twisted chips are the best
@huntermischa

seen from Spain

seen from Germany
seen from Spain
seen from TĂŒrkiye

seen from Germany
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from Germany

seen from United States
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany
seen from Germany

seen from United States
twisted chips are the best
@huntermischa
Swing, Swing
*Eddie Munson-centric
Inspired by this prompt list (I don't know how or why I found this-- I know it's super old! I also know that it's meant for March, but the story took a wintery turn) @deity-prompts
Also minorly inspired by this song
Prompt: Swing set
Eddie watched as your car rounded the bend, disappearing down the road, away from Hawkins, away from him. He listened to the voices of his friends surrounding him, everyone whoâd come to see you off on your grand journey to college. After two years of waitressing at the diner and picking up odd shifts at Family Video, youâd finally scraped up enough to continue your education. Not only that, but youâd found some scholarships, renewable ones, that could carry most of the weight of your four years.
The cloud of dust cleared, and the road before him was emptyâ you were officially gone. Sure, youâd promised that you would come back and see everyone during your breaks. But he knew you. Once you got out there, youâd feel cramped in whatever dorm room or apartment the university shoved you into, and youâd find a job or two to keep you busy in your off-hours. You would claim that it was to help keep your finances in order, but he knew it would mostly be your way of stopping yourself from being alone with your thoughts. You were going to run yourself ragged, and he wouldnât be there to help keep you sane.Â
Eddie turned and headed back towards the trailer park, trying to keep his thoughts light. You wanted thisâ youâd always been good at school, and youâd had lofty dreams of getting a degree in journalism or creative writing or just English in general. Something to maybe give you a little more promise of a future outside of Hawkins, away from the monsters and general bad vibes. Sure, he would miss you, but he wanted to be a supportive friendâ thatâs why, when youâd raced over with the unopened letter from the college, heâd watched with bated breath and felt a surge of excitement when you read âWe are pleased to welcome youâŠâ.Â
He kicked at a rock in the road, watching it bounce and skitter a few feet away. If he was being totally honest with himself, it wasnât the fact that you were leaving, necessarily, that was bothering him so much. It was the idea that there would be other guys there, people he didnât know and couldnât vet or intimidate. While the two of you had never officially âdatedâ, youâd often exchanged flirtatious words, looks, smiles. Your friendship was solid, but dammit all if Eddie hadnât wanted to make it more.Â
The road turned, a familiar path, taking him towards Hawkins Park. It was pretty much dead center between his trailer and your house and because of that, it had been a favorite meeting spot for the two of you. Countless nights, youâd snuck from your homes and met each other under the cover of dark, spending an hour or two on the swings, each one trying to go higher than the other, or lying back on the cool metal of the merry-go-round, staring up at the night sky, counting the stars. The playground equipment had seen its fair share of your emotionsâ the tears youâd shed after a bad breakup, Eddieâs frustration at another failed test, the despair felt by both of you that this godforsaken town was going to swallow you both whole, keeping you trapped like a mosquito in amber. It had also held the echoed brilliance of your laughter, ringing out in the stillness after one of Eddieâs horrible jokes, the whispers of dreams that seemed too big for Hawkins.Â
Eddie took a seat on one of the swings, the rubber squeaking with his weight. He began to sway, slightly, his boots scuffing the well-worn trench beneath the swing. With each movement forward, he focused on the goodâ you were happy, you were getting out of Hawkins, you were doing something with your life. Each movement back, however, gave voice to one of the more negative feelingsâ youâd left him, youâd eventually stop coming back, you were going to find a new circle of friends, a new guy, perhaps, and there wouldnât be room for him in your life anymore.
____________________________________________________________________________
The first week passed; Eddie found himself wanting to call you, hear your voice, update you on the weird things Steve was doing with his hair, or the funny story Robin had told him at Family Video. But he didnât have your new number and the phone sat like a dead fish in his hand: cold, lifeless, and a little slimy thanks to the humidity in the trailer.
Heâd just barely set the phone back in its cradle when the shrill ring filled the trailer. Eddie snatched it back up, cutting the ring off partway through. âMunson residenceâ fortress of anguish and despair.â
âPick one,â your voice said on the other end of the line. âLeave the other for someone else. Iâve got dibs on despair.â
Eddie felt a chuckle bubble up in his throat, despite the earlier pain heâd been feeling. âWhatâs the matter, college kid? All your hopes and dreams not being realized in the first week?â
âI donât know.â The tone of your voice was familiarâ it was the same one you used to use when the two of you would bemoan the horrors of high schoolâ slightly overdramatic, but hiding a kernel of sincerity. âItâs⊠different here.â
âIsnât that the point?â Eddie leaned one shoulder against the wood paneling of the living room wall. A finger looped through the curly-q cord. âTo go see what lies beyond the great Hawkins horizon?â
âI guess.â You sighed. âI guess I just⊠didnât expect to miss⊠everything this much.â
Eddieâs heart skipped a beat. It had almost sounded like you wanted to say something specific, perhaps a name, perhaps his name, instead of the generic âeverythingâ. He cleared his throat. âHawkins⊠misses you, too.â
____________________________________________________________________________
Days, then weeks, passed in a blur. Afternoons seemed to drag out, the sun beating down and baking the trailer park. Nights were somehow longer, the still, unmoving air a heavy blanket in the dark.Â
Your phone calls were steady, at first, every Saturday afternoon. Then, you skipped a Saturday. When you called the next week, you explained that youâd gotten swept up in an assignment. Then the pattern became permanent, only calling every other week. Then, only once a month.
During the now-rare phone calls, Eddie tried to ask when you planned on coming back, when that promised visit would arrive, without sounding too pushy or desperate. You kept telling him âsoon,â but the day never arrived. Just like heâd thought, you managed to snag a job in your new city and had volunteered to stay and work over your Thanksgiving break, since every other college-aged employee was going home.Â
âBut Christmas,â you promised. âIâll be there. Weâll still do our annual screening of Gremlins while drinking your horrible concoction of hot cocoa mixed with eggnog.â
âSure,â Eddie said, his voice somewhat hollow. âItâs a date.â
____________________________________________________________________________
The December days ticked by without so much as a whisper from you: December 15, December 16, December 17⊠soon enough, it was the 23rd.
Eddie, bundled in only his typical leather jacket and denim vest, found himself walking that familiar trail to the park. The sky was dark, showing off the green, red, and yellow lights on the decorated houses. No snow yet, just crisp cold. He tucked his chin into the jacket which was zipped up all the way. His hands were shoved in his pockets, balled up to maintain a semblance of warmth.
Heâd just made it to the park when he saw a figure on one of the swings, moving back and forth minimally. Despite it being hunched over against the wind, despite it having been months since heâd seen them, he knew immediately who it was.
Eddieâs boots crunched over the dead grass as he approached. âY/N?â
The slight movement of the swing stopped. Your head lifted. âEddie?â
The air between the two of you was cold, and not just because of the temperature. âYouâre back,â he finally said.Â
You nodded. âYeah. Just got in today.â You sniffed. âI was⊠going to call. Or just⊠come over.â
Eddie nodded once. He sank into the free swing, looking out at the dark, empty park. âSure you were.â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âI donât know, Y/N. I justâŠâ He shook his head. âI get that things are different now, but⊠I didnât expect them to be this different. I havenât seen you in months. We barely talk. And now, on the day you get to town, I find out by accidentally stumbling upon you in the park.â He was quiet for a moment. âI donât want to sound⊠melodramatic, or childish, but⊠it really feels like youâre avoiding me.â
Silence sat between the two of you for a few minutes. âI am.â Eddieâs head snapped over to you, eyes wide. You were looking at your feet. âBut to be fair, Iâm avoiding⊠everyone. I just⊠donât want to have those conversations yet.â
âWhat conversations?â
âThe ones where I answer the same questions over and over: how are you? How were your classes? What were finals like? What are you taking next semester? Whatâs been the best part of being there? Do you miss it?â
Eddie shrugged. âPeople want to know. They care about you. Theyâre⊠interested in your new life.â
âI know, but⊠I canât lie to them.â
âWhat?â
You looked up at him. âI hate it over there, Eddie. I hate everything about it. AndâŠâ Now it was your turn to look out over the park, teeth digging into your bottom lip. âIâve decided Iâm not going back.â
âY/N,â Eddie said, your voice barely more than a puff of white in the dark, cold air.
âI canât do it, Eddie. I canât⊠be there, pretending to give a shit, that everythingâs great, when Iâm miserable.â You gave a watery chuckle. âIâm a small-town girl, Eddie. Not made for big city living.â
âBut⊠you worked so hard to get out there. You always said you wantedââ
âAnd I did. At least, I thought I did. But once I was there, everything just seemed⊠flat. And I missedâŠâ The two of you sat, staring at each other in the darkening park, the only light the single yellow streetlamp nearby. Eddie felt like his heart was in his throat. He couldnât tear his eyes away from you. âYou.â
He sighed, the weight on his chest diminishing but not disappearing. âY/N. I⊠I canât ask you to stay here. I canât be the reason you donât achieve your dream.â
âYouâre not,â you said forcefully. âEddie, Iâve had a lot of time to think this through. What I want isnât out there. Itâs⊠right here.â Your eyes trailed over his face. âIt always has been.â
Eddie let your words wash over him. He reached out, fingers wrapping around the cold chain of your swing. He pulled you towards him, the two of you mere inches apart. His eyes bored into yours, looking for any flicker of uncertainty. âTell me you want this,â he said, his voice low. âI need to hear it.â
âI want this,â you swore, eyes unwaveringly on his.Â
That was all he needed. Eddie leaned forward, closing that minuscule gap. His lips were solid and warm against yours. As the kiss deepened, both of you could feel all of the bottled-up emotions pass through in your wordless conversationâ the months of desperation, loneliness, want, the weight of holding true feelings back.
The kiss eventually broke. Eddie slowly unwrapped his now stiff fingers from the swing chain, but your planted feet kept you in his orbit. âCome on,â he said quietly, holding his cold hand out to you. âLetâs go. Someone promised me a date with Gremlins and hot cocoa nog.â
The two of you made your way through the night, hand in hand, towards the trailer park. While one chapter of your life was done, closing as a failure, a new one had started. And while you might not have a college degree, you would always have the swing set.
Did you think that I would cry
On the phone?
Do you know what it feels like
Being alone?
I'll find someone new
Swing, swing, swing from the tangles of
My heart is crushed by a former love
Can you help me find a way
To carry on again
to receive his ancient serpent deceiver... đ x
swing swing swing from the tangles oooooof my heart is crushed by a former loooooveeee
The All-American Rejects - Swing, Swing
Swing swing swing from the tangles of
My heart is crushed by a former love
Can you help me find a way to carry on again /lyr