Latest Posts by vitzi9 - Page 12

i doubt anybody on this app get bitches anyway sorry guys i love you

i am the most hoeless whore of France

i think im bitchless because im french and i think that is mean of you all because i litteraly can whisper in your ear sweet french words such as bonjour and paris. if a girl is interested or even a boy or even non-binary cuz eh yk wont refuse anybody you all are cute anyway im here baguette

Show Me

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Best Friend!Eddie Munson is more experienced than you and you ask him to help you out. 

Word Count: 6.8k

Note: in this fic you and Eddie are both 18 and Eddie hasn’t failed (yet? Maybe in this au he won’t? I want that boy to be happy).

Dedicated to @millenialcatlady and @theoncrayjoy ♥️

Also, as of when I post this at 6pm PT on 7/1 I have yet to watch the final two episodes of the season which have dropped so PLEASE DO NOT SPOIL FOR 24 HOURS AT LEAST LOL. 

Warnings: NSFW, drug use, fingering, dirty talk, self-doubt and a lil teenage awkwardness (both are 18 though), PIV sex

~*~

“You ever touch yourself?”

“Excuse the fuck out of me?” Your response comes out as an incredulous chuckle.

You’re sitting on the bed of your best friend Eddie Munson, hand frozen outstretched to take the blunt he was offering you. You look down at the girly magazine in your lap, the one you had just been lazily criticizing him about. A centerfold gazes back up at you teasingly, her abnormally round breasts jutting out without shame as her back arches up from a tacky cheetah skin rug.

“Touch yourself. Do you?” Eddie waves the smoking blunt in your face till you pluck it from his hand. You busy yourself taking a long drag - longer than usual - to buy yourself time. As you hold the smoke in your lungs, Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. “Easy there, tiger.”

You exhale harshly with a cough, immediately feeling your head begin to rush.

Afficher davantage

Pushing It (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist   Part 2

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: None

Synopsis: Eddie is surprised when popular cheerleader Y/N comes up to him with a favour to ask; pretend to be her boyfriend

Y/N notes: shorter than Eddie

Got a quiet reader request from an anon so I came up with this!

DM me if you wanna be on the Eddie tag list!:)

Afficher davantage

paul dano art i made for his birthday C:

EDDIE MY LOVE WHY

Youth - Chapter 2

Ship: Eddie Munson/Reader Rating: Mature Warning: Vomitting & very brief non-graphic nudity Tags: Hurt/comfort, sickfic, touch-starved Eddie, pre-canon Summary:

You take care of Eddie when he's sick.

Text below!

Chapter 1 here.

You wait until he’s slept for a good three hours (roughly the length of Lord of the Rings) before you get up. Taking extreme measures to slip out from under him and replace your body with a pillow, you pause, watching him make sure he keeps sleeping. When he doesn’t stir, you breathe a sigh of relief. Rewinding the tape to roughly where he fell asleep, you put it back on for him before swiftly exiting his room. 

It’s late, you know that. So you head to the phone and dial-up your home number. It takes two rings before your mother’s voice is coming through the phone:

“(Y/N)!? Where have you been!”

“Sorry, mom, I know, I should’ve been home but…” you take a really deep breath, facing away from Eddie’s room so you don’t wake him. “Eddie got really sick at school. Throwing up sick. I was the one to get him home, and I thought since I’d been in close contact with him it was best not to bring whatever bug he’s got home. I’m gonna stay here a while until he’s recovered, just to be safe so I don’t get you contagious.”

“Oh thank God, I thought something awful happened to you. What with the disappearances not too long ago. Yes, hon, I understand if you want to stay there - I can stop by with something to eat for the both of you if you’d like.”

“That would actually be amazing,” you say with a soft laugh. “I know it might be too much to ask but could you grab the movies from my room? Just pick out whatever so I don’t go insane with my own thoughts. He’s not that big of a talker when he’s like this.”

“Will do. I’ll see you in about… how does an hour or so sound? I’ll defrost that chicken broth in the freezer and get you something proper to eat. Don’t want to overwhelm his stomach now.”

“You are seriously the greatest. Say hi to dad for me, I probably won’t be back for a few days just to be safe we’re not contagious.”

“I understand, sweetie. I’ll see you in a jiff.”

“Bye, mom,” you say, hanging up the phone. 

Taking a deep breath, you lean against the counter and stare at Wayne’s hat collection. You were lucky to have a mom who could see past Eddie’s whole… Eddie. Especially since she could bring you food as you didn’t have three days worth of takeout money. Eddie might, judging by the wrappers everywhere, but you weren’t about to make him put out while he’s sick. He can just pay you back later with some weed and jam sessions. 

You check on him every so often, leaving the door open just a smidge so that you can make sure he’s still in fact, breathing. He’s out cold (thankfully). 

So, you grab a bit of weed from his stash and your bong from his room. You left it here as it was easier than having it in your own house. Your parents were tolerant, but not that tolerant. 

With one final glance back at Eddie, you open the door to the trailer and take a seat on the steps. It’s still early evening as you pack the bowl and click on your lighter. It's not quite the same as smoking with Eddie. It lacks his signature conversation and excessive hand gestures. To be honest, it feels a tad too alone for your tastes, dragging down your mood and impacting your high. He’s barely a few feet away and yet he feels so out of reach.

You persevere anyway. You need something to take the edge off the flutter in your chest when he looked at you with those puppy dog eyes. Now was absolutely not the time to go about suffering over a crush.

Leaning back, your head hits the trailer door, a smoke ring drifting through the air. 

You sit on the steps until you see your mother’s car out of the corner of your eye. Forcing yourself to stand you set the bong on the counter inside the trailer and step back outside. She’s grabbing something from the passenger seat as you walk up to her.

“Hey, that didn’t take long,” you say, holding out your hands to take the containers. 

“It took an hour and a half,” she points out, passing you a thermometer. “Here, because I doubt he has one.”

“Thanks, thanks. Times kinda weird when you’re taking care of someone sick so forgive me -” she nods her head - “Anyway, should probably get this into the trailer. I don’t really want to get you sick so uh…”

“(Y/N) I’ve taken care of you while sick countless times. A brief moment in the contamination zone won’t affect me,” she chides. You swear if she didn’t have a box of VHS tapes in her arms her hands would be on her hips. Spiritually they’re definitely there. 

“Right, right,” you mumble to yourself, letting her into the trailer. 

You’re immediately reminded why you hate trailers when the sound of Eddie taking a leak provides “ambience” for the two of you. You set the leftovers down on the counter, shaking your head. To you, it’s normal. Not that you particularly want it to be, but there’ve been plenty of times where he’s paused a movie and gotten up to piss, gracing you with the sound as you try and ignore it until he’s back. 

“Forgive him, he was supposed to be asleep,” you dismiss, baffled that he even had anything left in his system to be turned into urine. 

“I’m a grown woman. I’ve changed your diapers. I’m sure I can handle hearing your boyfriend pee,” she says, setting the VHS tapes down on the coffee table. 

“He’s not my -”

“Hey, (Y/N), I know this is going to sound pathetic but could you make me some soup? I kinda… I don’t feel like vomiting anymore. Starvin’ actually,” Eddie says, cutting you off as he wanders out of the bathroom, using the wall as leverage. “Mrs.(Y/L/N)?! What are you doing here?”

Your mother simply smiles and nods her head.

“Sure he isn’t,” she chirps to you before heading for the door. “Eddie, dear, I hope you get better soon. If you kids need anything else I’m a phone call away. Oh, and remember to wait at least three hours after the last time you puke before eating.”

“Thanks for everything, mom!” you call as she shuts the door. “You’re welcome, dear,” she chirps.

With that, the trailer door shuts and she’s gone. Leaving you alone with a very confused Eddie. 

You sigh, shaking your head before turning your attention to Eddie. He’s deflated against the wall, scratching his stomach with his shirt pooling around his wrist. He can barely keep his eyes open and you're fairly certain if the wall wasn’t there he’d have fallen over. 

“Come here, let’s check your temperature,” you hum, taking out the tiny thermometer. “Then we can get some food in your system. My mom brought chicken soup.”

He grins at this, wobbly and lopsided:

“I always liked your mom’s cooking. Makes me feel like home.”

“You’re delirious,” you say as you shake the thermometer down. “Open wide for me.”

He grins and sticks his tongue out in a sluggish version of the Devil’s naked tongue. You sigh and shake your head, still shaking the thermometer down. 

“No this goes under your tongue you goof, come on, work with me and you get to pick out the next movie,” you insist.

“Thought next one was Indiana Jones,” he slurs, putting his tongue away.

“You have to corporate first. My mom brought a bunch of my old ones,” you inform him, setting the thermometer under his tongue. “There, now, stay here for two minutes. Think you can handle that?”

He nods diligently and you accept it, turning your attention to reheating the soup. You watch the clock to make sure that he’s not just standing there, though you hadn’t anticipated him to be watching it as well. It’s barely been two minutes when he rests his head on your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist. 

“Someone’s impatient,” you laugh, praying he can’t hear your heartbeat as you take the thermometer out of his mouth. 

“Hungry,” he mumbles, watching you read it.

“Yikes,” you mumble. “One-hundred and two degrees Fahrenheit. One more and we’d need to call you a doctor.”

“Can I still get soup?”

“Yes, you still get soup,” you assure him, patting his hand. “Come on, let’s get you to the couch and so you’re not overexerting yourself.”

He allows you to lead him to the couch, settling him down with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders so he won't get cold. You leave him in a bundle to return to the stove, reheating the soup for him. You can feel his eyes on you as you work, unsure of what to say and knowing he won’t be much for conversation. So you let silence permeate the trailer until you settle down next to him, the bowl in your lap. He’s turned his whole body to face you, still snuggled in his blanket.

“Open,” you request, filling the spoon with broth.

He looks from the spoon to you, nervously. 

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah… I just… is it weird that you’re feeding me? Shouldn’t I do that?”

“Think you can do this or do you want me to? I promise I won’t tell anyone if you don’t,” you ask, offering him the spoon. 

He considers it for a quiet moment, curling in on himself in the blankets. You can see he’s still shivering despite the fuzzy fabric. 

“... you. Too cold.”

“Alright,” you say, keeping your tone neutral and level.

You’re actually hoping that he’s going to keep it down. He’s gotten three spoonfuls in, going back for his fourth. Even if he takes really long pauses in between, he’s showing promise. 

You know the instant he puffs his cheeks out a little that this isn’t going to end well. Quickly setting the bowl on the coffee table, Eddie groans. 

“Need help to the bathroom?” you ask tentatively, reaching to take his blanket. 

“Mmm,” he says while shaking his head. 

You arch an eyebrow, taking a seat back on the couch. You’ve barely sat down when he’s bolting for the bathroom. Without a second thought, you go after him, making sure his braid isn’t near his face while he rejects the soup. It feels like forever before he finally stops, and you’re not even the one throwing up. You rub his back, letting him rest his head on his arm currently wrapped around the toilet. 

“Please… make it stop,” he whimpers, his eyes squeezed shut. 

“I wish I could, Eds. Let’s get you a cold shower, see if we can bring the fever down and get some of ick off,” you say, standing up to turn on the shower.

“Again? I just had one though,” he mumbles without moving. 

“Eddie, you are super clingy right now and I am not letting you cling to me while covered in toilet germs and sweat,” you point out, reaching to help him stand. 

“Fair point,” he mutters, stripping out of his shirt. You pull the elastic out of his hair to let him wash it. 

“Mhm. Let’s get you nice and cool, then we can watch Indiana Jones,” you remind him, helping him to step out of his pants and into the shower. 

“You’re too good for me. Don’t deserve this,” he mumbles as you shut the curtain. 

“I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t whole-heartedly disagree,” you point out. “Now get clean. I’m going to go eat something and then I’ll come help you out.”

“Go eat, ‘can wash myself,” he dismisses you, waving his hand behind the curtain.

“Just call if you need me,” you say as you step out of the bathroom, leaving the door open. 

You opt to wash your hands in the sink before getting your own dinner ready. Thankfully you can just pop it into his microwave, wait two minutes, then have a hot meal. Your mother's cooking was always the best, even if you ate it quickly so as to not leave the smell lingering through the trailer when you got Eddie out of the shower. 

The sound of vomiting interrupts you twice, and you plug your ears until it’s over. Not once does he call for you, and you feel bad, knowing that he wants to let you eat. Or perhaps he just doesn’t want you to see him naked more than you have to. Which is entirely fair. 

Either way, you finish your food, knocking on the open door:

“Ready to get out yet?”

“Yeah,” he slurs as the water shuts off. 

“Think you can dry yourself while I get you some clean clothes?” 

“I got it,” he confirms.

You dip into his room, grabbing more comfy clothes and bringing them back with you. He’s slow to dry off, still trying to get his hair when you return. 

“I’ll do your hair after, just dry the rest of your body,” you encourage him, holding his clothes. 

He does as he’s told without a fight (which is so very rare for him it’s uncanny). Once he’s dry and dressed you’ve gotten him back to bed, Indiana Jones in the VHS player as you sit on the edge of his bed. There’s a bowl next to the bed just in case he vomits again.

“Can you braid my hair again?” he asks quietly, barely able to keep his eyes open. 

“Are you just trying to fall asleep on me again?” you question, fidgeting with his hair tie. 

“... please?” 

You really need to learn how to say no to his puppy-dog eyes because they have you sitting behind him once more, running your fingers through his hair. 

“Your hair is an utter mess. Do you own a comb?” you ask incredulously, knowing he does, just not where. 

“Desk,” he grunts.

You grab it from where it’s pressed between a DnD module and a music notebook. You pick up the notebook, setting it down on the bed. 

“Oh, no, don’t look in that. It’s just shitty lyrics I’m working on,” he immediately says, piquing your curiosity. 

“Oh? Any new songs I should be aware of?” you question as you sit down behind him, taking a comb to his messy hair. 

“No,” he says quietly, tucking his knees to his chest. 

“Nothing?”

“Nothin’.”

“If you say so…”

You know he’s definitely hiding something from you, but, his hair takes top priority. So you comb out every knot you come across, letting him stay quiet and watch the movie. You know talking isn’t the greatest when you’re nauseous. 

He falls asleep before you can even finish braiding his hair, drooling on your shirt with his arms around your waist. You have a feeling this is going to become a regular occurrence, which you don’t exactly mind. He’s always cuddly when he’s high, no matter who he’s with. You’re not surprised he’s the same way when sick; even with a fever that high, he’s still shivering. 

So you let him sleep through Indiana Jones and Fantastic Planet, and the Outsiders, waking up part way through the Empire Strikes Back. He blinks a few times, squinting at the television as he watches the movie. You only notice he’s awake when he snuggles closer to you.

“Woke up for the good part,” he mumbles, watching the battle rage on. 

“Hey you, sleep well?” you hum, your attention immediately on him; brushing his bangs from his face. He still feels like he’s on fire, which isn’t surprising as it’s not even ten yet.

“Ask me tomorrow. Do… do you think we can try more soup?”

“You’re going to have to let me get up for that,” you point out, watching as he lazily redirects his gaze to you. 

“You gonna come back?”

“Just need to get the soup reheated.”

“Okay,” he huffs, shuffling off of you to let you off the bed. He pushes himself to sit up, resting his head on his knees with droopy eyes and a frown.

“I’ll be right back,” you assure him, patting his head.

You try to be as quick as you can. You know that he’ll be distracted by the movie, yet, you hate to leave him like that. Standing in the kitchen you press your lips together with a frown. You shouldn’t reheat soup if you’re not sure if he’ll waste it again. So, instead, you get some of the ice from the freezer and add it to a glass. Then you head back to the room.

“I know it’s not soup, but let's see if you can stomach this first,” you propose, sitting down next to him. 

“Okay,” he nods, opening his mouth.

You laugh, rolling your eyes as you set an ice cube on his tongue. 

The whole glass is gone quickly. You wait fifteen minutes, letting him rest against your side as you watch the movie with him. When he doesn’t puke it back up, you get up and return with soup.

This time you only give him three spoonfuls, and you wait again. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Fifteen. The soup stays down.

“Progress,” you hum, filling another spoon. “Think you can eat another?”

“Absolutely,” he grins, as proud of himself as you are.

i love having online friends . hello university students from europe . hello childrens show enthusiasts from the united states . hello baby gays from oceania . do you want to talk about soup

percolator

warnings: 16+ smokin weed, mentions / talking about sex (no actual sex)

a/n: i attempted to unlock every bit of stoner knowledge i had from my high school days, but the weed fucked with my memory so don’t mind the weird writing. i am not dumb my brain is just the fried egg from the DARE commercial!!!! also my parents (born:1972) claim that everyone called weed pot back then so im rolling with that. u call it dated i call it historical accuracy.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈•ﾟ｡

you knocked on your boyfriend’s front door, giddily bouncing from foot to foot. the plastic bag held in your opposite hand brushed against your thigh as you were waiting for him to answer the door.

seconds later, you were met with the face of your mulleted boyfriend. cheeks flushed and eyes a shade redder than the usual look of acute sleep deprivation. he was probably high.

Afficher davantage

✧༺♥༻∞

“eddie,” you said, pushing his head out from your neck. “we’re in public.”

“babe.” he pouted, grabbing onto the belt loops in your jeans and hoisting you on his lap. “we’re in a trailer park, that’s hardly bein’ in public.”

“wayne can probably see us from your living room window,” you said, pushing his chest but still not moving from his lap.

“tell me to stop then.” he smiled and pulled you in by your waist, flushing your chest to his own.

“baby, i don’t know what your angle is here, but you’re not fucking me on a dirty picnic table.” 

“still not sayin’ stop.” he started massaging your jean-clad thighs. “i think you’re into this.”

you didn’t say anything, just continued looking at him while his hands scattered all along your waist and legs.

“you’ve got pretty eyes, eds.” you said, cupping his cheeks in your hands. “they’re like kaleidoscopes.”

“they’re just brown.” he replied moving his hands up to the top of your waist. “yours are prettier.”

you laughed. “mine are the same color.”

“so you’re really just complimenting yourself?”

“no.” you said. “we’re just both pretty.”

his hands began gripping your wasting and moving you back and forth over his lap. despite the two layers of jeans between you, you couldn’t help but let out a soft whine.

“not so worried about making a scene now, huh?” he laughed.

“shut up,” you said, eyes closed while your arms were now wrapped around his neck. “you’re still not fucking me on this picnic table.”

“we can do whatever you want, baby.” he said, fully expecting you to pull him back into his trailer and into his messy bedroom. 

instead, you let out a (sadistic) giggle and pulled him up on his feet. confused, he let you guide his hands back around your waist and propped your own on his shoulders.

you started swaying back and forth, and eventually eddie took the hint and started repeating your motions with you.

“if you wanna dance we can go inside and put on a record-”

“no.” you said. “i wanna dance outside with you.”

he left it at that and continued silently dancing with you. the only noise was both the sounds of your quiet breaths and the buzzing of cicadas. at one point your head fell on his shoulders and the evening dusk faded into the night sky.

“love you, eddie.” you said.

“love you too, baby.” he repeated, kissing the top of your head. “more than you’ll ever know.”

“yeah?” you asked.

“yeah.” he said. “the day we met was the best day of my fuckin’ life. still can’t believe you let me have you.”

“shut up.” you mumbled into his chest. “i didn’t let you have anything. i was always yours.”

you could feel his teeth on your scalp from his grin. he planted another chaste kiss on your forehead before continuing to sway with you.

Caught dancing with the devil | Eddie Munson x Hopper!Reader

Summary: You get the tremendous idea of sneaking Eddie in your room while your dad is home. Things escalate under the belt  - naturally - and Hopper gets suspicious

Word count: 0.8k

Request: Could you do an eddie munson x female reader smut with prompt 21 where the reader is hoppers daughter and her and Eddie are trying to be quiet but then hopper sees that the readers door is closed so he catches them in the act.. (‘’Shh. There’s people in the other room.”)

Warning: smut, fingering (reader receiving), swearing, mention of murder (?)

-

Sneaking Eddie through your bedroom window while your dad was home was bound to end horribly. You thought you had been smooth by having Eddie park his van somewhere in the perimeter of your house to not risk Hopper hearing the engine and getting suspicious, but you didn’t think of the other noises he could hear that would raise suspicions.

Eddie’s hand was in your panties, coaxing sweet little sounds from your mouth as he trailed his finger down your slit toward your opening, groaning himself when he discovered that you were soaking wet. 

‘’Shh. There’s people in the other room,” you reminded him.

Afficher davantage

Quite The Gentleman

SUMMARY: The day has finally come for Eddie to meet your parents.

GENRE: fluff, Wheeler!Reader

"Mom, she's not a kid anymore. It's not like Eddie is.. terrible." Nancy says with a supportive tone that slightly falters at the last word. Nancy wasn't necessarily approving of your relationship, but it wasn't like she had a say being your younger sister.

Mike was a different story. Part of him was secretly stoked because he worshipped Eddie in a way. The other part, the majority, was absolutely pissed at him. So, mike rolls his eyes while setting the table.

"I know. I'm just-" Karen sighs and puts a hand on her hip.

"I worry about her judgement sometimes. I heard some not-so-great things about this Eddie Munson." Ted clears his throat and pours a glass of wine. Karen eyes him, frustrated with his lack of concern over your dating choices.

"He's not all bad, you'll see." Nancy gives a reassuring smile. You come down the stairs wearing a dress nancy had never seen you in befo- was that hers? Nancy silently groans at you and you stick your tongue out at her.

The doorbell then rings and you run to it, excitedly opening up to see a moderately cleaned up Eddie. His hair was brushed, sort of, and he wore a button down he'd bought at a second hand store with jeans. He smiles wide, cupping your cheek and giving you a quick peck.

Your mom drags everyone to the door to greet poor Eddie. She's taken aback by the metal head's hair but quickly pushes the thought to the side.

"Mr and Mrs, Wheeler! It's a pleasure." Eddie says with excitement, shaking both of their hands. His gaze travels down to a shy Holly, hiding behind Karen. He reaches out his hand with a genuine grin.

"M'lady." She giggles and shakes his hand shyly.

Karen ushers him inside. Nancy gives a polite wave and Eddie ruffles Mike's hair. You hold Eddies hand and guide him next to your spot at the dining table, but he pulls out your chair for you before sitting down.

"You've got a wonderful home." Eddie compliments, his hand settling on your thigh. He was doing great. You knew he would, he was nervous but not enough to throw off his charm. Your mom thanks him, clearly surprised by all of his manners.

"I'll set out dinner now, help yourself to some water or w- how old are you again?" He answers, 20, and she shakes her head.

"No wine then, excuse me." Eddie stands up.

"Should I give you a hand?" Her face lights up, not even Jonathan had been this polite when she'd met him. She nods and smiles, showing him to the kitchen. Mike gives you a tired look, clearly not happy with the show Eddie was putting on. You scrunch your nose at him.

-

The night could not be going better. Well, maybe he'd be better off without a few of the jokes he made, but other than that, perfect.

"So, Eddie. You're head of the club Mike is in?" She takes a sip of wine.

"Yes ma'am, the Hellfire Club." Karen and Ted pause, looking at Mike who had a guilty look on his face.

"You didn't tell us it was called that, Micheal."

"You would have never let me join if I did!" He defends, looking frustrated with Eddie.

"You're right! It sounds like some kind of cult..." Karen looks questioningly at Eddie. He starts to sweat, so you set your hand on his in attempt to calm him down a bit. Mike's gonna get an earful from you later...

"It's not ma'am. Just a silly name for a D&D club." He calmly states with a lighthearted chuckle. She looks slightly relieved.

"Do you often play children's games?" Your dad says sounding disapproving of this newfound fact. You can see your mom kick him underneath the table.

"Sometimes. I think we all need to nurture out inner child." Karen smiles and nods.

"You know, that is actually very insightful, I like that"

-

Your parents and you walk Eddie to the door, wishing him a safe drive home while he tries to block the sight of his beat up van.

"Dinner was delicious, thank you. Have a great night!" He says his goodbye and you step outside with him.

"You think they liked me?" He asks. You just pull him in for a long kiss.

"Absolutely." You say, brushing your lips against his.

"You're right. I nailed it!" He replies cockily and kisses you again, promising to meet you at your window tonight.

All in all, your mother still did not fully approve. She had to admit, he was quite the gentleman. However she couldn't get past the fact that he flunked his senior year, twice. Ted seemed indifferent but secretly liked him a lot and cut him some slack in the discussions proceeding the dinner. Mike was not looking forward to seeing him around the house, especially not after getting his mom upset at him.

Eddie Munson has INCREDIBLY strong “survives off of cheap microwave dinners, gas station jerky, school fruit cups, and loose handfuls of sugary cereal” energy. Look at that dude’s face and tell me he has ever eaten a vegetable. He doesn’t know what an eggplant even looks like. Can’t cook for shit. If you say “gnocchi” he’ll say “bless you”.

Do I read my own fics? Yes and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I am a very talented writer

Eddie Munson x Henderson Sister!Reader

Warnings: Hint of sexual content. Minors DNI

Eddie cleared his throat and looked away. His cheeks flushed.  

“You okay?” Y/N asked. 

His grip tightened on the bathroom counter he leaned against. “A pretty girl is kneeling between my legs with my jeans around my ankles. I’m peachy.” He shrugged with an awkward grin. 

Afficher davantage

hello danonation, tonights a fine night to talk about parasocial relationships, internet etiquette, and just common fucking decency???

do: take inspiration from dano and kazan, watch their movies, take screenshots, write fanfiction about their CHARACTERS, maladaptive daydream about them literally fucking whatever okay go wild within reason.

dont: dont stalk them. dont leak their private, intimate photos online. dont repost said intimate photos. think fucking critically when you see a picture that seems off or a little too private. dont publicly post deranged shit about dano on social media where theres a chance he or his relatives (his DAUGHTER someday?!) could see it. dont do this shit to ANY person, celebrity or otherwise! how would you feel? this is common sense people i cant believe i have to tell you this…

i cannot expect people to censor themselves in private conversations, in diaries, in sketchbooks, on writing software, but i urge you all to keep these things PRIVATE. have some fucking decorum if you must do any weird shit. celebrities are human beings just like us. if you wouldnt say it to their face, or to your neighbour, then you should keep your mouth shut period.

Im here to ask for some Riddler hc with a male s/o

Please all of the ones in the tag are just fem or just an extremely feminized reader. I just want to kiss the incel and not get dysphoria orz

I hope this is good! ^^

---

In the dim, neon green light, your eyes adjusted to your surroundings. You had once again been ordered over intercom to move from room to room into whatever hideout or safe house or riddle nightmare dungeon The Riddler had squatting in.

You hadn't known what had made the man pick you. You weren't necessarily out of the ordinary, didn't stand out more than any other citizen of Gotham. You weren't especially wealthy or powerful. The Riddler should have had no real reason to target you. In fact, you couldn't even recall having seen him before, outside of news reports.

The only thing you could call back to was the strange feeling that you had been watched for the past few months. You had waved it off as a paranoia, and now you had come to regret it. This was Gotham, after all. If someone felt as though they were being watched, there was at least a chance of it being true.

Though luck hadn't been on your side in that matter, it had at least been in your grasp during the riddle trials he subjected you to.

You awoke here, in the dark, in one of the seemingly endless rooms you found in the building Riddler stuck you in. It had taken a few minutes for you to truly wake, to shake the grog from your mind as you adjusted to the dim light.

Feeling your way around the room, you had found a letter. Squinting your eyes, you made out the message.

It is priceless, but it comes to you for free. What is it?

Your heart sunk, your eyes going wide and mouth dropping open in horror at your circumstance. Your heart radiated in your chest, breathing becoming shallow and fast as panic and adrenaline overtook you. It took everything within you to keep your legs from going weak and slumping to the floor in hopelessness.

Oh, God. Oh, God, why you? You hadn't even seen the guy in person before! What did he want from you?!

Trying to get your breathing under control, you read over the riddle again. It is priceless and comes to you for free...

Glancing to your side, you could spot the outline of a door that hadn't been visible to you before. And beside the door was a receiver, most likely in which to give your answer.

Slowly, you approached, note still in your shaky hands.

Priceless and free. Was it... Silence? Silence was golden, and it was free.

You took a shaky breath, slowly breathing out. "Silence?"

The speaker fizzled to life as you heard a voice imitating a buzzer. "Not quite! Try again."

If your mind could have made a noise at that moment, it would most assuredly be the sound of an old dialup computer as it tried to process what just happened.

The Riddler. The Riddler had spoken to you. Bad told you that you had gotten his answer wrong. And you were still alive. Not that you were complaining, but this was normally the part where he started killing people.

Try again. He wanted you to try again. Well, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, you thought over the riddle again.

It is priceless, but it comes to you for free. What is it?

Your eyes practically burned a whole into the paper, as though hoping it would reveal some sort of secret. This wasn't even fucking fair, anyway. You could know every riddle on Earth, but put someone in a life-or-death situation, and it's no wonder they forget everything!

He was probably running out of patience. He could kill you at any moment.

Licking your lips, you decided on your answer.

"... Love?"

Almost immediately, you heard the sound of a lock being opened, and Edward's voice flooded into the room.

"You got it! I knew you would...~"

For a moment, you simply stared at the door, unblinking. You took in your situation, at what the criminal had just said, at the both terror and relief at still being alive.

Eventually, taking a deep, shaky breath, you forced yourself forward, hoping that once you stepped out of the door, you'd be free.

Of course it couldn't be that easy. You barely made it through the other trials Edward had put you through.

You were placed into another room, with another note.

I am round, thin and shiny, and often studded with stones; I am one symbol of a relationship. What am I?

A timer began to tick down as you took in the room. You knew you needed a ring - but which one?! The dark room was littered with them. On the floor, on tables, hung up on hooks. Metal rings, copper rings, rings that toss at carnival games. Throwing yourself to the floor, you dug and sifted through the different rings that were on the floor.

30...

You pawed at any of the rings on the floor, hoping that touching them would count as an answer.

25...

But what if that doesn't count? Did you need to wear them?! You began fumbling with them to put them on, sliding the bigger rings onto your wrists like bracelets.

20...

Your hands shook with adrenaline as you looked over the rings on the table. Your anxiety and the low light made all the circles blend into one blobby shape as you tried to figure out which one was the right one. You held back sobs as you tried to deduce which one was right - if there even was a right answer.

15...

You jumped, hearing a clicking noise to your left. Whipping your head about, you spotted it: One of the rings that were hung on a hook, suddenly illuminated in green lighting.

10...

You flung yourself over to it, your whole body shaking as you wrestled the other rings off a finger.

5...

You couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't hold the thing without dropping it, your vision going fuzzy with tears. This is it, you were dead!

5...

You managed to pick it up on your second near-blind swipe at the ring.

5...

Had... Had the timer stopped?

You never took your eyes off the timer as you put on the ring, unblinking.

Another unlocking noise.

"Such a smart cookie!" The Riddler spoke again. "And Batman has the audacity to say he's the smartest man in the city!"

You were pretty certain Batman had never said anything like that, but weren't exactly in a position to argue.

Another room, another life-or-death riddle.

When it comes to both you and matters of the heart, it can break you under the wrong amount of pressure. What am I?

Luckily, the walls closing in on you steadily lead you toward the answer rather quickly.

"A crush!" You screamed.

In an instant, the walls returned to their original positions. As the door unlocked, Riddler praised you once more.

"It's incredible how witty you are in dire circumstances. It seems we have a lot in common!"

And the final room. You head felt fuzzy as you tried to recall what happened before you lost consciousness.

A knife. And a note that read, What is mine, but only you can have?

A body on the ground. A woman. You felt sick. You knew that riddle. The answer was "my heart", but what was thr body for?

"My heart!" You announced.

"You're very close, dear."

You swallowed, turning your attention back to the woman's body. God, you felt like you were gonna vomit. Slowly, you searched the woman's pockets. She felt deathly cold even through her clothes. Pulling out a wallet, you opened it.

Maya. Maya Hart.

Your eyes flicked back to the knife, and an image flashed into your mind that made you retch.

No. No, no, no, no, please, God, don't let him make you do this. You didn't want to. Even if she was already dead, she was still a person...!

But, he'd never let you out of here if you didn't solve it.

You didn't even recall picking up the knife. Just the feel of it in your hands. The flash of metal in the dim light. The sick sounds and how her blood looked so black in the light. The feel of the already cold organ in your hands as you barely kept yourself from becoming sick.

My heart.

And then... You couldn't recall the next moments after that. The Riddler had probably stuck up on you, attacking from behind and knocking you out somehow, and here you were. Tied up in another room, restrained in a chair. Waiting for death. Or worse.

You kept your head hung, as it had been when you awoke, waiting for the inevitable. Or maybe stalling the inevitable. Either way, you waited in the darkness until the weight and strain of your position grew to be too much.

The cracking of your back hadn't made you gasp, but it sounded like someone else had. Someone in the same room as you.

Him.

He was here with you the whole time.

"Ah, finally! I've been waiting for you." The Riddler cooed as he looked upon you, helpless in your restraints.

With all the courage you could muster, you locked eyes with him. "What... What do you want from me?"

"Just one final riddle, my love. I promise."

Your eyes shot open wide, stuttering out a barely formed series of sounds. His... His love?

Before you could even process the previous sentence, he continued. "What is the fabric of your shirt made of?"

The fabric of your shirt? What the hell? You could barely even remember where you had bought the thing, let alone what it was made of! What were shirts usually made of? Cotton? Polyester? A mix of both-

As you feverishly wracked your brain for an answer, The Riddler used that distraction to swiftly move in, swooping down to your sitting position to press his lips against yours. A gloved hand rose to cup your cheek, a thumb stroking softly at your jawline. He hummed into the kiss, pressing even deeper into it, before pulling away.

Edward chuckled at the shocked look on your face, grinning wide ad he gave you the answer.

"One hundred percent boyfriend material."

Dungeon Master Eddie Munson STRANGER THINGS (SEASON 4) Chapter One: The Hellfire Club

loml

12 and 90 from youre eddie prompt list? :)

i hope this is good! thanks for the request!

"Alright," Eddie said, sitting himself down heavily next to you. "Friday night; the movies are showing Chopping Mall, it's supposed to be wicked."

"Um, no," you replied quickly, staring down at your unfinished homework.

Eddie scoffed, and he looked at Dustin with a 'what's-up-with-her' expression, like you were an in-joke between them. "Alright," he said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Why not?"

You tried to articulate your feelings fully before speaking. You and Eddie had been dancing around the idea of dating for a few months, ever since having shared a kiss on a drunken night after DnD, endlessly flirting and acting like a couple without the commitment, but the idea of getting tied down to someone just before leaving for college kept you from fully committing. You rejected him every time he tried to ask you on a proper date, and you could tell that he was getting tired of the chase, as much as you hated the thought that he would move on. "I just don't wanna date you," you told him. "I'm happy with things the way they are."

"Bullshit you are," Eddie chuckled. "What the hell do I have to do to get you to go out with me? Just one date, princess."

"Nothing, because it's not gonna happen," you said simply.

"One kiss?" Eddie offered. "One kiss, here and now."

"No!" you chuckled. You wanted to act as if Eddie was annoying you, but you knew that he could see through your fake annoyance.

"If I ask you to kiss me in front of all these people, will you do it?" Eddie asked, and you rolled your eyes.

"You don't have the balls," you told him, narrowing your eyes jokingly. You fully knew that Eddie did in fact have the balls to do a very public declaration of love— he had done a speech to the lunchroom for less than this— but you didn't think he would actually do it.

He instantly proved you wrong. He stood up, shoving himself away from his chair, and he jumped up onto the table nimbly. "I'll do it!" he announced, and the tables closest to you turned first. "Don't think I won't!"

"Jesus, Eddie!" you hissed, and you moved to smack his leg. "Get down from there!"

"One kiss!" Eddie said loudly, extending his hand out to you. "If you, fair princess, give me one kiss, here and now, I'll never bother you about it again!"

"Shut the hell up, Munson!" someone on the other end of the lunchroom called, and someone else added, "If you weren't a freak, she'd say yes!"

"What d'ya say, princess?" Eddie asked, casting his big eyes down at you.

You sighed. "Why do you want this so bad?" you asked him, and Eddie jumped down from the table and sat back next to you, turning his chair around so he could rest his chin on the back of it.

"I just really like you," Eddie said, and his hand reached forward and gently took yours. "And I've never felt this way before about anyone. I... I think I love you, and that terrifies me, because you're about to move off to college and I'm gonna be in Hawkins for the rest of my life... It scares me to love you."

You looked at him for a few quiet moments, seeing the quiet contemplation in his chocolate-colored eyes, and you pulled him forward by his hand. You laid a quick kiss on his lips, just long enough for him to stiffen in shock, and, when you pulled away, his eyes had widened. "Chopping Mall on Friday, right?" you asked.

"Yeah," Eddie mumbled. "Holy shit. Yeah."

this is the funniest thing I’ve read in my LIFE

i want him.

I'm going through the most recent tumblr posts on here in the ao3 tag and it's so funny because it's like a family reunion but we're all the mentally unstable gay cousin

ao3 crashed and the people are suffering

Locker Room (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist 

Eddie Munson x Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: Swearing

Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries​ @ruhro7​ @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski​ @gh0stm3g​ @lagataprrr @spencersbookbag @ygrworld @ambernicole90 @alwaysbeenfamous @angelsarecallin @voteforevilthoughts @iameddiemunsonshair @hellf1reclub DM me if you wanna be on the Eddie tag list!:)

Synopsis: When Y/N realises that Eddie was hiding in the girls locker room, she has the decision to out him or believe him that it was all just a big misunderstanding

Afficher davantage

Doodles and Dates (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist

Eddie Munson x Artist! Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: None

Tag list: @mikinyi DM me if you wanna be on the Eddie tag list!:)

Synopsis: Eddie has fallen for the quiet girl he sits next to in class who’s always drawing.

Afficher davantage

Hello 😊

How about Eddie having a huge crush on the reader but he’s unsure if she feels the same. when one day he comes in early to set up for hellfire and he finds her reading the players handbook like taking notes and stuff trying to learn more about D&D so she can surprise him and play the game he loves. Things get fluffy and it leads to a big confession and kiss 😭 I hope you have a wonderful day!!

ok but this. i love this. i swear you guys come up with the best damn ideas for fics <33 and i just hope i can deliver. (also shit, i completely forgot about the kiss etc. but if people want a pt.2 to this, i am more than happy to oblige, just hmu)

no explicit warnings. swearing.

Eddie Munson requests open // support your local writers and reblog+comment

_____________

Eddie made his way through the hallway. The chain on his jeans clinked with each step– steps, which in turn echoed through the empty corridor. It was an hour before Hellfire would start, so obviously, none of the other members had arrived at the school yet, and everyone else was most likely across campus, on the bleachers watching whatever sports game was happening that evening. So no one would be in this part of the school. 

That’s what Eddie thought, at least. 

He opened the heavy doors to the drama room. It had become an unofficial meet-up spot for Hellfire, primarily because of all the props that the Drama club had left behind from earlier productions. His favourite, of course, had become the large throne he liked to sit in whilst in the game.

Most days, whenever he could, Eddie would be sure to come at least an hour earlier just to finalise the specifics of the upcoming session. Of course, he had planned the entirety of the campaign months in advance, as he liked to put details in to bring back in the later sessions, but he was a perfectionist. He would spend the upcoming hour setting up his place at the table with all the books and files he had made for the forthcoming story. He would reread his notes, perhaps add in something he had thought of at the moment or cut something out he had doubts about. So, easy to say, he needed that extra hour before game time. 

But when he walked into the drama room, he noticed something was off, as the lights in the room were on. Not the usual dimmed ones the club uses, but the bright overhead lighting gave the entire room a yellow and artificial glow. 

He noticed you. Sitting on the ground against the wall, a large book in your lap, absolutely absorbed in it. To the extent that you didn’t see or even notice him walking up to you. Only when he said “Hi” did you scream and jump up. 

‘Woah, sorry,’ he chuckled, ‘didn’t mean to scare you.’ 

‘No, it’s fine,’ you coughed, closing your book quickly, trying to stuff it into your bag. But Eddie had already seen the title, and his interest peaked. 

‘Is that… the Basic Set?’ He pointed at the Dungeons and Dragons rulebook you were holding, the giant dragon on the cover not really allowing you to deny it. 

‘Uhm, yeah, I was just… I don’t know.’ You pushed it into your backpack, zipping it up quickly. ‘I should go anyway; the game is gonna start soon, so…’ you trailed off, not having anything else to add. You just got up, threw the backpack over your shoulder and walked past Eddie, leaving him dazed and confused. Only when you were almost at the door did he speak up. 

‘What’s your name?’ 

‘y/n,’ you answered. You didn’t need to ask him back. If the Hellfire Club shirt and the untamed hair hadn’t been enough of a giveaway, maybe the smell of weed would have been. Though no one would admit it, everyone at Hawkins High knew Eddie Munson. One way or another. Maybe just in the passing of conversation, but that guy was infamous around your school. You had never talked to him before that moment, for various reasons, mostly because of what you had heard about him from your friends. It was better to not hang around the likes of him and his other freak friends. 

So, when he walked up closer to you, you could feel your heart pounding faster and faster. You told yourself, there was nothing to be scared of. He was just a guy… a very attractive one, at that. You couldn’t lie to yourself. Something about him appealed to you; even if every cell in your body told you it was wrong, you were attracted to him. And maybe that was the reason your curiosity with this game of his had started. 

It started, to be exact, during a certain lunch period. You were walking towards your locker to put away your books from the earlier classes and retrieve your lunch to eat outside. Eddie had been standing only a few feet away when you reached the spot. He was talking to someone, both of them wearing identical Hellfire shirts. As you unlocked your locker, you couldn’t help but listen to what they were talking about. Now, you couldn’t remember what the conversation was about anymore, but they had mentioned stuff that sounded just like a fantasy book or movie. Something that, unknown to your friends, you had seen and read a lot of. It was such an easy way to escape from the hell living in Hawkins. 

Hearing them talk about it for the extended time needed to get your lunch out of your locker was enough for you to get hooked. You weren’t sure what exactly, but you were intrigued by the idea. A quick search in the yearbook for their little “Hellfire Club” told you enough. It was a Dungeons and Dragons club.

A few weeks later, when you finally made an excuse for your friend not to hang out, you went to the library and to your surprise, found an entire dust-covered shelf filled with manuals and rulebooks. You had no real intention of playing, but just wanted to know what the whole thing was about. 

That led you to the Drama club classroom an hour before the big game, catching some alone time to read a few more pages of the book. You hadn’t even realised you had trespassed into the unofficial Hellfire lair. 

Eddie had crossed the room now. He had his arms crossed, tapping his fingers on his bicep. 

‘Would you– are you interested in playing?’ 

‘No,’ you said, probably too quickly. Not intending to insult him, you corrected yourself, ‘I just… was just reading into it. Don’t really know how to play.’ 

‘I can teach you,’ he smiled. ‘It’s not that hard, especially if you’ve got the background information already,’ he cocked his head in the direction of your backpack. 

‘No, I don’t want to bother you–’

‘I didn’t mean now, if that’s what you were going for. I’ve got a campaign to run.’ He said, and you noticed his backpack left on one of the larger tables in the room. 

‘You’re running for class president?’ you asked, to which he started laughing. Then you remembered: a campaign was the game, the story they played. ‘Wow, ok, that was dumb of me,’ you laughed at yourself. 

‘It’s almost finished though,’ Eddie continued once his laughter died. ‘Maybe another session or two, depending on how much the rest decides to wise up. Then we’ll be starting a new one, and it might be easier for you to get started… if you’d like.’ He spoke slowly, cautiously, as if the wrong word would scare you off like a hunter who’d step on a twig while looking for deer. And perhaps, you would have ran of. The door wasn’t a foot away from you. At any given time, you could have told him to piss off and you could have walked away. Who did he think you were? Trying to get you to join his cult. 

Well you were the person to do exactly that. You had already read enough to see that nothing the media was saying was true. It was a harmless, pretty fun looking, game, that clearly had a very strong community around it. 

But it didn’t matter what you wanted. If your friends would ever find out that you were spending your evenings with Eddie “the Freak” Munson and his squad of cult members, playing some game where you would kill monsters with dice… you would never see the light of day again. 

‘I don’t even have a character sheet,’ you tried to use that as an excuse, but Eddie wasn’t buying it. Instead, the corners of his lips tightened in a smirk. 

‘The fact you even know what a character sheet is, sweetheart, tells me more than enough.’ He was findings his very amusing. There you were, one of the most preppy students in all of Hawkins High, holding tight on to your backpack strap hiding what most of the people you knew would almost consider illegal contraband. He could practically see the gears in your head turning, fighting the urge to join him on the dark side… not that you would even know what it meant… although, you had already surprised him aplenty in the few minutes you spent together. He wasn’t against one more revelation. 

‘How about my house, over the weekend? I got nowhere else to be.’ 

‘I-’ you didn’t know what to say. 

‘Scared your boyfriend will be upset if we hang out?’ He looked up at you from behind his eyelashes, reading your face for a reaction. 

‘I don’t have a boyfriend.’ You were earnest in your response, maybe too earnest. But Eddie didn’t seem phased. Nothing of his following reaction sounded as if you had just past some kind of test or trick he tried to put up. He just nodded, maybe shrugged a little. 

‘So, what do you think?’ He held his hand out for you to shake. You stared at it, probably for too long, inspecting the rings on his fingers. 

‘I really got to go.’ And with that, you pulled the door open and ran off. It was true, you had agreed with your friends to meet at the game, and you were most likely running late, but your sudden exit had more to do with the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. You didn’t know what to do, so– you ran away. 

You were almost at the exit leading to the fields, two corridors away, when you stopped running. It was ridiculous, and extremely rude. Eddie had been so nice to you, so welcoming, and you just shut him down and ran away as if he was some psycho trying to lure you into a dark basement. 

Eddie sat down at the table, trying to replay everything that just had happened in the room. Little made sense of it, but then again, when did things in his life ever make sense? 

He pulled his campaign folder out of his back. A thick and black dossier, with the Hellfire logo scratched onto it with marker. Inside, a collection of scraps of paper with millions of his ideas scribbled into them. A system that would only make sense for the craziest of minds: his own. 

He flipped through the pages, when the door of the room opened again. He met your eyes, saw how out of breath you looked but how you tried to keep your composure. But most importantly, he saw your smile, your excitement. 

‘You should probably give me your address,’ you said, still in the threshold, ‘you know, if you want to meet up.’ 

actual footage of jeon jungkook becoming the nation’s 47th president and achieving world peace his first day in office

my brain the past month: PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DANO PAUL DA-