𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔞𝔩 𝔬𝔣 𝔶𝔬𝔲

[munnson]

#MUNNSON [...] an independent, mutually exclusive and highly selective EDDIE MUNSON of netflix’s STRANGER THINGS. dm’d by shadow ( she/her, 28, canada) [...] advanced literate, novella/multi-para, plot and headcanon heavy. triggering themes and mature content ahead, minors dni. read rules before interacting.

links: carrd | memes | promo

[eddie]

❝ THE SHIRE IS BURNING, SO    MORDOR     IT     IS. ❞

𝙴𝙳𝙳𝙸𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽 of netflix’s “stranger things”

adored and dm’d by 𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜

carrd |  blog  |  ask

[munnson]

MOVING!

THIS BLOG IS NOW AN ARCHIVE! you can now follow me on @eddie

[eddie]

❝ THE SHIRE IS BURNING, SO    MORDOR     IT     IS. ❞

𝙴𝙳𝙳𝙸𝙴 𝙼𝚄𝙽𝚂𝙾𝙽 of netflix’s “stranger things”

adored and dm’d by 𝕾𝖍𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖜

carrd |  blog  |  ask

[munnson]

MOVING!

THIS BLOG IS NOW AN ARCHIVE! you can now follow me on @eddie

[munnson]

MOVING!

THIS BLOG IS NOW AN ARCHIVE! you can now follow me on @eddie

[munnson]

kingrove​:

no one can mind their own damn business in this place ;; whether it´s tommy fucking h. and the other gaggle of fruit flies flitting around him because he´s still the biggest and brightest new attraction in this hick town or it´s the teachers, always nagging and nagging. harrington this, harrington that  - did you see the shiner on his face ; that was you , right? that´s why your face also looks like shi                don´t smoke on school grounds, hargrove. i won´t tell you again ;; he can´t fucking hear it anymore. the bruises on his jaw have just started healing, some of which have nothing to do with the grand king steve, not that he tells that to tommy - no he just gets a generous warning to fuck off because he´s not in the mood ; and the teachers get a nod and a grunt until they´re gone and he´s straight back to lighting up a new cigarette just out of spite. 

this day get´s on his nerves ; everyone´s stares sets him on edge - like an animal in a zoo           billy needs to get away from it all before he blows up ; he feels the energy simmering right under his skin, sizzling. so he goes to the one spot he discovered by accident not long ago ; this one lone table and bench - old and decrepit in the woods right behind the fields where no one in their right mind would hang out when it´s so damp and unpleasant outside. just his fucking luck that today out of all days, someone apparently is. he doesn´t reckognize the guy, doesn´t care to        he´s already made his way out here and he´s not gonna turn around to walk back without getting what he wants out of this place.  

moving over to sit on the other bench he lets himself fall, his hands already moving to light up another cigarette - the need for nicotine to calm his nerves almost overwhelming. his full intention on just ignoring the other guy completely, but this day proves to get shittier and shittier by the second when his zippo doesn´t catch flame ; sparks flying off into thin air, short lived and useless and billy slams it down onto the old wood with a muttered curse.   ❝  fucking               ! stupid.  ❞   fuck this day. he rubs the bridge of his nose, looks over to the mess of dark hair - flicks the cigarette in between his fingers with his thumb.     ❝  hey @munnson​, you got a light for me ?  ❞

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ THE SCHOOL DAY HAD CAME AND went, passing mundanely with few junctions of significance—aside from the test that Eddie had completely and utterly BOMBED, of course, but even catastrophic failures like that had become mundane these days; a benchmark in his frequent patterns. Considering the piss-poor reputation that he had around town though and the consequences that often resulted from it, a failing mark seemed minor on the list of possible misfortunes that could have befallen him. Maybe his uncle Wayne wouldn’t agree, but adding another F to his report card seemed better than taking a black eye from another brawl with Jason Carver or any of the other members of his brainless circle of goons. He wouldn’t have to find out though . . . Not tonight, at least, as he planned on killing just enough time in the woods to make sure that their paths wouldn’t cross. His uncle would leave for work in a couple of hours, and by the time that he drove home, the trailer would be vacant again.

           After Eddie had completed a cash transaction for a routine drug-deal with a regular customer, he was left alone at the old, weathered picnic table, his hands pawing through the disorderly accumulation of muddled clutter in his bag to locate his sketchbook and a useable pencil. The edges of the book were tattered, the cover adorned with faded stickers and trite with the obvious signs of heavy usage—much amassed during the myriad of classes that he’d spent daydreaming in, rather than focusing.

           Ring-clad fingers flipped through an abundance of used pages before settling upon a blank canvas, the tip of a dull pencil quickly beginning to christen it with the haphazard linework of a busy mind; the early concepts of a new CORRODED COFFIN logo. Sure, he could have been studying a textbook to absorb some information that could spare him from another blemish on his GPA, but alas, he found himself lost, once again, within the vast expanses of his imagination, the muted pulse of heavy metal music that drummed through the headphones that sat upon the tabletop coaxing him further from reality.

           The equanimity was short-lived and fleeting, however, the solitude of the reclusive space quickly fading out to the sound of approaching footsteps and the sudden intrusion of one BILLY HARGROVE. Eddie had looked up from his sketchbook only briefly to catch a glimpse of him before he’d diverted his gaze back to his uncompleted task, but the short glance had been enough for him to pin the visitor’s identity. He recognized him; heard his name and seen him around town here and there when he’d whip around in his noisy Camaro, but that was the extent of his knowledge on the supposed new KING. He hadn’t really been eager on a formal introduction.

           Before Eddie even had the chance to wish for him to simply be passing through, he was being joined at the table. He tensed. The motion of his pencil ceased for a moment and his gaze raised, settling temporarily on the other male who had yet to even acknowledge his presence with so much as a nod of his head or a glance. A faint frown began to crease his features, his confusion more outwardly visible than it had been before as his mind sifted for an answer that could help to make sense of the situation. His first thought had been that he was there for drugs, but the lack of an introduction aided quickly in his decision to assume otherwise. ‘ O-kay . . . ’ He only mouthed the words with the uncomfortable raise of his eyebrows before he lowered his gaze back to the second concept in his sketchbook.

           It wasn’t as though Eddie particularly wanted to converse, but a part of him was relieved to hear the slamming of the lighter and the question that came after it—something to break the ice. His dark gaze didn’t leave his sketchbook, however. ❝ I don’t know. Probably, ❞ he answered ambiguously, as he made no immediate effort to check while he continued to scribble idly away at the edge of a bat wing. The moment was drawn out, as though he was really going to solidify that remark as his final answer, before he finally lifted his gaze, chocolate browns settling on pale blues. ❝ Yeah, ❞ he confirmed at last, setting his pencil down to reach for his denim vest and jacket. ❝ So, uh, what’s got you so . . . ❞ He made a faint one-handed gesture towards him.  ❝ —rattled?  ❞

            ❝ Trouble in paradise? ❞ He asked through the hint of a smile as he fished through the pockets of his garments for the lighter, sliding it across the table once he’d located it. It wasn’t as though he really believed it though; PARADISE. He knew better than to assume that everything was really as peachy as it appeared, even for the guy with the cool car and all of the girls falling at his feet.

[kingrove-a]

CALIFORNIA DREAMIN´      ON SUCH A WINTER´S DAY   ©

[jcnathan]

                                               𝕀𝕊 𝔸𝕎𝔼𝕊𝕆𝕄𝔼

[munnson]

[munnson]

hcwkinsqueen​:

♡ ┈┈ ꔫ ┈┈ ♛ → CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM – queen of Hawkins High School ; it’s a title she always unceremoniously twiddled with in her spare time. A compliment by the other students or a sarcastic quip about her as a person, depending on the group. Often times, whenever she passed by the group of DND players, she wondered just how much of them hated her, spat insults she’d seen hurled across the lunchroom at Jason countless times (the insults were easily hurled back like they were having a pissing contest), but she could only wonder…how much of them hated her before getting to know her? How many did the same to Eddie? Just based on the interactions with Jason, she had assumed he would be terrifying, tearing her down about her interests and jamming her full of quips about how she was TOP OF THE SOCIETY for just waving her pompoms around. Yet…Eddie was kind ; he didn’t insult her nor did he take any Jason-related anger out on her…

        Even when she failed to fit into his usual crowd of people, Eddie seemed to relish in her company ; she didn’t need to be like him at all to be near. She let him listen to Madonna, he let her turn on Billy Joel, no matter what she turned on in the background, his judgment never met her ears. Maybe he thought about it, but he never put her down for it, or maybe she thought that was the truth because she couldn’t mentally handle it the other way.

        Their cheers out the window, she could hear them but were they for her? Only Eddie could inform her ; she had turned away so fast after the call that she didn’t even want to know – she feared the judgment that could be thrust at her. It’s why she chose to turn a blind eye to anything Eddie might be throwing at her, though she hadn’t noticed it, which was maybe her in denial or her thinking he was a true gentleman, someone who knew her troubles and didn’t make her feel like she had to be someone different – she was a freak. CHRISSY CUNNINGHAM WAS A FREAK. It was enough to leave her smiling after they parked the car and he prattled on to her about it, shoulders shrugging up and down, though not out of dismissiveness over his claims.

       ❝ I’ve never been allowed to until I met you, ❞ she admitted. Actually, she thought about it, wondering if there was some kind of legitimate FREAK FLAG, like those that flew above the proud states. Maybe if she had one hidden in her room, she could lay awake at night, reminding herself that she had others who knew the real her while she messed with the frays, picking it apart in her comfort zone as she listened to her mother and father move about downstairs, believing she’d fallen asleep ; they sometimes spoke about her, but they mostly just stayed to themselves and pretended love was there in public.

        Fingertips traced along the side of the car door. The handle wasn’t her excuse to leave, but she’d take hold of it anyway ; this was mostly to ensure she didn’t dilly dally on him when he wanted to leave the car for the actual concert. ❝ I don’t even know half of what being a freak is like, but…I kinda like it. Is it always just…being yourself no matter what? ❞ God, how many questions was she going to throw at him today? With a quick shake of her head, she’d giggle, waving a hand before her. ❝ I’m sorry! I keep asking you questions like you’re some kind of teacher! ❞

        For the briefest of seconds, she let her gaze meet his before flushing it away to glance at the window, unsure of herself ; it was so strange how she’d dated Jason for so long but never noticed how…out of tune with her issues he was until she talked to Eddie. Although, it wasn’t exactly Jason’s fault ; she never mentioned the most grueling things that bothered her, but she didn’t want him to tell her she was being crazy or dumb or to just stop it. If it was that simple, she would have years ago… ❝ Thanks – you know, for, uh…dealing with me these last few…blurry, blurry days. It’s probably so freaking high maintenance and you might have lost sleep, but – but you know…it…it means way more than anything. ❞

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ IT WAS NO EXAGERTATION TO SAY that Eddie had developed a bit of a soft spot ( a massive crush ) for Chrissy Cunningham, but despite the glaringness that he felt towards his own affections, he still outwardly denied the claim whenever someone would bring it up—namely the annoying ducklings in the Hellfire club. They liked to quack a lot, always catching and pointing out each time that he would smile around her unnecessarily, or when his cheeks would turn red during their conversations. His denial of his feelings was only for the sake of his own sanity, however, because admitting that he was actively falling for what could only be defined as a DEAD END only made his heart sink. Jason Carver was still standing between them, and he couldn’t see that changing anytime soon . . . least of all for Eddie THE FREAK Munson.

           The way that Chrissy had caught herself before she’d rambled off more questions brought an even wider smile to Eddie’s face, although he’d done his best to stop it from growing by pursing his lips. Despite his feeble efforts, a soft chuckle slipped out from between them anyways, his grin once again reaching his dark eyes. Her apology was nothing short of endearing, as was the way in which she’d so sweetly delivered it.

           Eddie watched her, chocolate eyes shifting their gaze towards her fingers and her polished nails as they traced along the car door and eventually settled on the handle of it. It seemed as though he was always absent-mindedly studying her . . . The way she moved, the way she talked, the way her nose crinkled a little when he said something goofy to make her giggle, the way she stopped looking down at her feet whenever she was finally at ease in his company . . . He wasn’t sure when he’d started noticing so many little details, or when he’d started caring so fucking much about them, but he knew unequivocally that he couldn’t make himself stop. Whether she was building him up with the innocent batting of her eyelashes or tearing him down by holding another boy’s hand, he was beginning to fear that he might be perpetually doomed to be patching self-inflicted wounds for the rest of his life. It wasn’t like he could walk away after everything they’d been through together . . . They were in too deep now.

           Eddie’s smile softened some, but only because the shift in the tone of Chrissy’s voice and the words that she spoke tugged on his heart strings in a different way; in a way that made his own flutter and melt in the hollow of his chest. She was speaking to him as though he didn’t owe her just as much gratitude for all of the late nights and the comforting conversations that they’d shared, but the verbal expression of her gratefulness was met with warm welcome nonetheless.

           The note of a soft chuckle was carried out on the wave of an even softer hum, his gaze averting once again, continually defaulting to the keychains that dangled in the ignition. ❝ It’s, uh, it’s all good, ❞ he answered her, the accent of laughter carried out in the inflection of his coy response. ❝ I wasn’t too attached to my shitty sleeping schedule anyways, so . . . ❞ He tilted his head in her direction. ❝ Don’t mention it. ❞ The modest shrug of both of his shoulders was accompanied by the forward-lean of his body as he found her face once again in a search for her doe-eyed gaze, the smile growing at the corners of his mouth.

           For a moment, Eddie was quiet, the sweet smile on his face never wavering. It wasn’t long before he broke the brief silence with a soft tone and an expression that looked akin to a puppy dog, however. ❝ Not that you haven’t humored me enough by, y’know . . . like, showing up here with me in the first place, ❞ he laughed, making an open-palmed gesture at the surrounding, bustling parking lot. ❝—but, Chrissy . . . ❞ He pauses, deliberately drawing out the question. ❝ —do you think you could do me a solid and humor me just one more time? ❞ He quirked a brow, raising one ring-adorned index finger.

[joequinns]

EDDIE MUNSON + features

[micro-usb-deactivated20230625]

I love jaywalking with strangers. They can’t kill all of us!!!

[munnson]

wheeling​:

      It was hard not to feel guilty over having played such a small role in something so important. It hadn’t been within his control, because there was only so much he could do, but Mike wished more than anything that he’d been in Hawkins to help the team out. Whether he was helping Lucas and Max, hunting down Vecna, or fighting off demobats with Eddie and Dustin—anything was better than being separated. ❝ What you did was really brave. Just, be careful. Playing the hero is cool and all, but you got lucky. We still need you. And—Okay, I get there are more important things right now, but we haven’t finished our DnD campaign, ❞ he reminded him, a playful smile returning Eddie’s own. It was fleeting though, and shoulders would rise and fall to shrug at the following question.

      ❝ Yeah, I guess so. I just wish I could’ve been here to help, you know? ❞ Being someone who always took initiative to help the party, who always helped his friends and put them first, it was frustrating to not be able to make it back to Hawkins. ❝ Maybe…Maybe then things would’ve turned out different. Better. ❞ It was entirely possible that Max would still be in the same condition she was in now, and Eddie would still be chained to a hospital bed after almost dying, but he couldn’t help but think of how it could’ve gone differently.

      ❝ I just want all of this to be over. ❞ How many more people would have to die before this finally came to an end? It was terrifying to think about, especially with the state Max was currently in, and he didn’t want to lose any more of his friends. ❝ Whatever comes next, we have to defeat it. For good this time. But first…❞ Mike trailed off, nodding towards the handcuffs. They’d have to do something about that. Eddie couldn’t be behind bars. What if Vecna targeted him? Nobody in there would know what was happening or how to help him. He’d be done for.

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ THE WORDS THAT MIKE SPOKE reverberated in the forefront of Eddie’s mind as he fought with his own disbelief to allow them to sink in, the echo resonating against the walls of his chest like the faint drumming of a heartbeat . . .

           WE STILL NEED YOU.

           Eddie couldn’t say that he’d ever heard those words before, and he’d certainly never been on the receiving end of them. It was a strange, foreign feeling to be needed when all of his life he’d only known being unwanted; always struggling to feel a sense of belonging in a town that wanted nothing more than to rid themselves of his disruptive presence, and dealing with the hurt of having a mother that had no interest in being in his life. He’d found a family and a sense of purpose within the Hellfire Club and the small circle of friends that he’d recently found himself in the company of, and the fact that he was laying in this hospital bed was a reaffirming testament to that truth. There was a point in time, not long ago, that he would have tucked his tail between his legs and ran away in the face of so much danger, but it seemed that he’d only needed to be given a purpose, something to fight for, to awaken his lionheart. As much as he would have loved to have promised Mike that he would be careful from now on, he knew undoubtedly that it would be a hollow agreement on his end. When it came down to it, he would throw himself on a blade for Mike and the other kids.

           It was hard to find the words to convey what he was thinking but luckily, he was taken off the hook and spared the embarrassment of stumbling over his emotions when Mike raised a playful concern about the critical significance of their unfinished D&D campaign. ❝ Shit. ❞ Eddie’s right hand lifted to settle over his face, his palm raking over his features and revealing an ear-to-ear grin once it had slid off of his chin. ❝ What is the world coming to, man? ❞ He’d asked rhetorically, playing along sarcastically. He would have been lying if he said that the idea of never finishing it didn’t weigh heavy on his heart though. There wasn’t much that he wouldn’t have done to have things go back to normal . . . To be perched on his throne at the head of the table, playing make-believe with his friends and laughing like they didn’t have a care in the world. The thought of never going back to that was terrifying, to say the least . . .

           It seemed as though guilt was a prominent theme in everyone’s lives these days, traces of the burden playing across every face that he’d seen so far that day. Mike was no exception. Eddie could hear it in the boy’s tone and see it in the way that he hung his head, and the way that he seemed to gloss over the legitimacy of his feelings by changing the subject. It was all too relatable. It pulled on his heart strings and resonated within him, as he’d always been the king of SHOULD HAVE DONE MORE’S.

          ❝ Nah, man. Don’t you start talking like that, you hear me? ❞ Eddie told him, promptly dodging Mike’s casual attempt at a shift in topic ( although the issue of his handcuffs and his impending imprisonment weren’t exactly unimportant. ) With his unshackled hand, he reached up, settling his palm on the back of the other’s neck to give him a subtle shake. He held his gaze, his head tilting forward in the younger male’s direction and he offered a lighthearted but scolding frown.

           ❝ If you wouldn’t have been there with that superchick of yours, none of us would be here. Your role might not’ve been as, um . . . glamorous, ❞ a grin quickly began to crack on his face and he gave a small nod of his head. ❝—as mind powers or, y’know . . . solo’ing a swarm of demon bats like a badass, ❞ he laughed. ❝ But we couldn’t have done it without you. Don’t sell yourself short, kiddo. ❞ His grin widened almost mischievously and he fell silent for only a moment before delivering a playful slap to the side of his face, as though he was finalizing his assertions with a stamp. Without waiting for any sort of verbal response, he continued. ❝ Now, about this pretty bracelet I’ve got on . . . ❞ He rattled the chain of his cuffs, his head tilting to one side as his smile became almost satirical.

[cdplayer]

i love musicians and also albums. can’t fuckign get enough of songs

[munnson]

kingrove​:

   it´s back, it´s back, it´s back, he´s back                     it´s the only thought running through his panic as he stumbles across the street ; the soles of his shoes slapping clumsily against the asphalt in the desperate attempt to get away from the claws moving up his spine. from the goosebumps breaking out on his neck, from the breath he feels against it. billy is trapped again, helpless to watch himself unravel and choke on nothing as he´s dragged underground again. dozens of voices explode in his head and he wants to scream, but all that comes out is a broken gasp from the lack of air in his lungs. 

he needs to breathe, none of this shit is real ; he just needs to get his breath under control and calm the fuck down - none of these voices are real, they´re gone ; they´re dead.    d e a d  b e c a u s e  o f  y o u.   billy had been the first domino to fall, the one to push over all of the other stones; dragging them down with him because he´s a fucking coward. weak.  p a t h e t i c.  the blood keeps dripping down onto the pavement below and he can hear his fathers voice behind him, calling his name.  b i l l y   ?  - so that´s why you´ve been staring at yourself in the mirror like some fagg               ❝    STOP!  ❞    they´re GONE. neil is GONE, he´s run off because he couldn´t deal with the embarrassment of having a failure like billy as his damn son ; a failure who can´t do anything right. can´t take care of his sister, can´t show any respect, can´t do his job, can´t gather enough people, can´t listen to orders and in the end;  can´t even fucking die properly when he´s supposed to. 

why did you get to live? why are you the only one, billy? i just wanted to help you and  y o u  b r o u g h t  m e  t o  H I M.   y o u  k i l l e d  m e. 

heather´s voice is cold in his ears, nothing but a cold echo to match the paleness of her skin in the moonlight in front of him. she´s an empty husk, reaching out toward him. y o u  k i l l e d  t h e m  - miss american pie. the clock chimes two.   ❝  get          get away from me   ❞  billy tries to flinch away, needs this to STOP ; but heather is staring down at him, frozen and unfeeling - and vines are wrapping around his back pulling him towards something - towards whatever is breathing down his neck and he can´t. don´t you do it, hargrove.   W I L L I A M.  i swear to GOD.

❝   i said        get the FUCK AWAY FROM ME  ❞

the burst of adrenaline is quick and violent - his elbow thrown back into a solid body, using all of his strength to shove the weight away from himself ; the surprise that it actually goes, that the pressure falls away like a rock tumbling from a cliff is what finally reels him back to this earth. it startles him back into awareness, blinking away the darkness that had closed in on him throughout the entire time and for the first time he feels like he can actually see the road he´s standing on - the forest surrounding him, the light of the moon filtering through the tree tops.     ❝   what the          ❞     the breath hangs heavy on his lips after being denied for so long, the quick change of mood and terror leaving him with a whiplash - reeling to try and catch up what the fuck just happened. 

seconds stretch into minutes while billy just stands there, gathering his thoughts while the world around him slowly filters back into focus  ; until the gentle rumble of an idle engine in the distance reminds him that he´s not alone. fuck. fuck. fuck. fuck - humiliation races through him, dares to set him on fire as he finally turns to remember the body he´d shoved away from himself just moments before and his gaze settles onto eddie munson who´d just seen billy hargrove fall apart like a tower of flimsy playing cards. who´d seen him lose his mind like a damn lunatic. 

walls are thrown back up quicker than lightning; the hargrove mask slipping over whatever mess might still showing on his face - stupid, he´s so fucking stupid. there´s no way the other is going to let him get away with acting like nothing happened but that doesn´t stop his tongue from running away from him anyway. ❝   not a fucking word, munson.  ❞

billy doesn´t make a move to reach out and help him up from the ground - wouldn´t have even if he wasn´t still shaking ever so slightly; instead he turns away to hide - to pretend to look down the streets for any other living soul or dead apart from them. anything to not look at the judgement, fear, disgust or whatever the hell else was going on in munsons head right now. billy doesn´t have the stomach to deal with this now without it escalating. what he needs is to walk, to breathe fresh air and remind himself that he´s still alive, remind himself that he´s stuck with the other guy for better or worse. that anything is better than being alone right now.

he takes a deep breath, counts to three while his fingers itch for a cigarette. he imagines the smoke filling up his lungs, imagines it filtering out through his nose when he expels the breath forced and slow.  ❝   go get your shit and ditch the car. ❞  billy needs to move, to move on and get away from this fucking place. lovers lake isn´t that far anyway.  ❝   we´re walking. ❞

⛧˖ ‒‒‒‒‒ THE CONCERN THAT HAD ETCHED itself into the features of Eddie’s face continued to deepen with each passing moment, the gaze of his dark eyes never leaving the shaking mess of a boy that was coming undone at the seams beneath the weight of his arm. After everything that he’d witnessed and learned of that night, he had every reason in the world to believe that this sudden spiral was just the tip of the iceberg of what was yet to come; a looming harbinger of the next imminent calamity on what was likely a long list, if the past was anything to go off of.

           ❝ Whoa, man, ❞ Eddie spoke, flinching away for only a moment at the first sign of Billy’s protests. ❝ Chill out! ❞ He snapped, although the wavering inflection in his voice made him appear far more diffident than it did assertive. Once again, he draped a leather-clad arm over his form, his own posture slumping forward slightly to get a better view of his face. As he gazed into the vacant stare of pale irises, however, it was almost as though there was nobody behind them—like Billy was looking past him, or rather . . . like he was looking at someone else? The sight made Eddie’s blood run cold, a fresh wave of dread washing over him and weighing him down into near-paralysis.

           Before he could even utter another word or process the next distraught thought in the queue of his frenzied mind, Eddie was knocked backwards by the sudden blow of Billy’s elbow as it slammed against his ribcage. Perhaps a scream would have followed the abrupt outburst if the wind wouldn’t have been knocked from his lungs, but instead he could only struggle silently for a gasp of air as erratic footsteps carried him backwards in a frantic stumble. His body fought and lost a slow battle to stay upright, his back eventually making contact with the ground with a loud thud and a quiet groan.

           ❝ Jesus FUCKING CHRIST! ❞ The words erupted in an off-pitch shriek as soon as he’d inhaled a breath, the overwhelming influx of emotions causing his remaining composure to temporarily dissolve. It was hard to say if he’d ever gotten it back in the first place though.

           Eddie’s chocolate gaze snapped quickly back onto the other boy once he’d sat himself up, his brows furrowed but his eyes still wide as he clutched his aching side with both of his hands. It was hard to tell what was going on anymore, but from what little evidence he could gather, Billy had snapped out of whatever trance he’d been in, because his stare wasn’t so vacant anymore. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disquieted by it, but he didn’t look away despite the other’s obvious aversion to eye-contact, his attention entirely focused on his every move.

           NOT ANOTHER WORD, MUNSON.

           Eddie wished like fucking hell that he could find some words to begin with, but his utter disbelief forced a transitory stillness in his vocal cords. From start to finish, the entire night had left him bordering on being speechless—a rare occurrence for someone that liked to run his mouth the way he did. He’d had enough. Two hands were raised palms-forward in the way of surrender after he slowly pushed himself to his feet, his head shaking and his lips pressed tightly shut as though he was fighting back a brewing assault of fiery curses. And then, finally, he spoke. ❝ Yeah, uh, ❞ the words came out in an almost sarcastic snort, a brief pause following. ❝ You know what? Fine. Whatever you say, Hargrove. Whaaateeever you fuckin’ say, ❞ he told him, his tone sharp despite the slight melodic note in it as his footsteps carried him backwards a short distance, his body eventually pivoting to head towards his van. While genuine frustration was a major factor in the driving force behind his retreat, the shaking of his legs made it all but impossible to pretend that fear didn’t make up the primary reasoning.

           There were a lot of questions that needed answering, but even he was beginning to feel as though he was barely skirting around the borders of overdrive now. He was exhausted, both mentally and physically, and the mere thought of trying to converse with BILLY FUCKING HARGROVE about what had just happened made his energy levels plummet into non-existence. He needed to get inside. He needed to sit down. He needed to somehow remove himself from this situation. He needed to find a single moment of fucking peace.

           Bitterly, Eddie threw two middle fingers up towards the sky, shaking them almost aggressively at an invisible recipient before finally allowing them to fall limply back to his sides, his palms slapping haphazardly against his thighs. It wasn’t as though he believed in God, but if there was someone up there looking down on him, well . . . he figured that now was the perfect opportunity to give him a piece of his mind, just in case.

           The concept of having to walk the rest of the way to Lover’s Lake was far from pleasant, but Eddie knew better than to argue the notion. The van would only serve to give away their location later on, and so it was in their best interests to hide it pre-emptively, as inconvenient as it would be for the time being . . . After throwing the old vehicle back into first gear, he drove it a short distance off of the road and then left it near the edge of the woods, grabbing a few of his belongings from within the glove box before he turned off the ignition and headed back over towards his regrettable travel companion. There wasn’t much to grab—an extra pack of cigarettes, a Walkman, a couple cassettes and a set of cheap headphones—but they were invaluable to him now that he essentially owned nothing.

           Without a word, Eddie slipped the headphones on over his ears, a still-trembling finger pushing the play button on his Walkman to allow it to begin booming out whatever cassette he’d happened to have left in the compartment at the loudest volume possible. IRON MAIDEN. This would do nicely, although it would do little to distract him from whatever the fuck he’d just witnessed, nor would it take the edge off of his nerves. Anything to keep him from needing to hold a conversation though—not that he thought that the other wanted to talk much anyways. It was more so a spiteful act of principle than genuine prevention.

[munnson]

Okay, but my first impression and current impression is basically the same. You are an insanely talented writer, ridiculously sweet and wickedly funny. Not gunna lie, I was super intimidated by you when we first started writing together way back when, because holy shit, you were and are AMAZING. You put so much thought into your writing and into your characters and I am so glad that we started interacting and that our babies have clicked so well, and I'm so lucky to have you as a friend! <3 <3

from here

omg i will literally break down and cry right here in public. gonna cry and snot everywhere and embarrass us both ;__; for real, i can't believe how long you've stuck with me for, and i can't thank you enough for it. it's been like 8 years or something ridiculous like that??? HECK we're getting old man through all of my blog changes and every hiatus and all of my muses, you've always been there and you've always been so kind and warm and chill. i never fail to have a blast when i write with you or when we ramble about music and nerdy shit. i'm just so grateful to have you as a writing partner and a friend, and i appreciate and adore you more than i can say <3