#hellfireclub

eddie’s tag dump !

elevcnhops·:

xx

Steps faltering, within approach the other obviously easily startled. So… this was ‘ Eddie ‘. Returning back to Hawkins to hear her friends regale her with stories of the one whom considers appearing at the scene of their crime so terrifying. El did have to accept his accusation of creeping. Years of living in mostly seclusion and the constant fear of being tortured by the government is good practice for slinking around. Poor guy, that twinge of guilt tickling her stomach. Increasingly aware of a clear trauma response from the other.

He was spoken so highly of by her friends, he helped them. Therefore El must be trust him - even if he was on edge ever since they first met. She did promise someone special that she would… and she wasn’t about to break that promise. Shuffling under his gaze. Unable to gauge him, or at least feel a sense for him. “ I was not creeping. “ scoffing to hide the embarrassment that she was in fact creeping. Turning the accusations around on him, “ And you are out here alone too. What are you doing? “

Before he could answer she realized his question, Hopper Junior? Unconsciously grimacing before looking away. Tapping her chest with her index finger, symbolism of her identification over the years. The better alternative than pulling up her sleeve to show ‘ 011 ‘. Though, she had noticed the tattoos inking his skin. Eddie’s were more extensive and El wondered if those hurt just as bad as her. Was he strapped down to the chair like she was? “ My friends call me El. And they say I should give you a chance. “ 

+++

he nodded, feelin a little caught. “fair. i was just ... i don’t know, man. looking for those things, i guess? i don’t even - i don’t even know what they were, i don’t think i wanna know, to be honest...”, eddie trailed off, one hand on his hip, the other dragging down his face. he made a mental note not to agree to hang out with nancy anymore, at least not before she told him what she had in mind, in detail.

and there he was, standing in front of the burnt out shell of beloved family owned diner ‘benny’s’, hoping and praying to god that whatever they’d stumbled upon had burned down with it. the image of the cracks in the shell burned into his mind, he squeezed his eyes shot for a moment, shook his head, as if to shake the thought out of him. 

and to think this wasn’t even the weirdest thing that happened to him in hawkins. fucking unbelievable. quirking a brow, eddie turned back to her. “el - oh, shit. you’re the el. like, the superpower girl.”, he blurted out, a wide smile tugging at his lips.”sorry, i’m, like, out of it today. ‘course i know you. i probably know, like, a little too much about you, actually - mike wouldn’t shut up about you, always going on and on about how cool you are and how he has a girlfriend. gotta say i thought he’d made it up for a hot minute.”

What personal space?

zccming·:

.

max squinted in eddie’s direction, communicating all she didn’t say. the main take away being, are you stupid? “i do do this for myself, like most nights out of the week.” her mom worked the night shift most days, it had been that way for years, max had learned how to fend for herself. sure, it wasn’t always a hot homecooked meal, but she did know how to feed herself, and she definitely knew how to use a knife without nearly losing a finger. “but you have a point.” max sighed, carefully avoiding the words you’re and right. “next time i’ll cook for us.”

at the end of the night, it didn’t matter whether or not eddie had made a five star meal or the inedible mush on their plates. the principal of sit down dinners was never about the food served, or each participants etiquette. they were about spending quality time with one another, and making an effort to connect. 

she hadn’t grown up with the most functional family and max never had a halting revelation that she wasn’t miss american pie and they weren’t the brady bunch. it was known in the same way she learned to walk or talk. she was born into chaos, from her parents divorce, to having billy hargrove and his insufferable dad as her new family members, then moving to hawkins. max seemed destined to walk a rocky path, but with eddie around, the idea of family stopped feeling so painful. it wasn’t how she always pictured it to be, but it felt nice when there were nights like these. 

unsolved mysteries prompted max to wonder if all of them were real, but that wasn’t of concern right now. she dismissed eddie’s thanks man with a, “shh! … you’re welcome.” as her eyes glued to the screen. it was going to be a long wait for their food if she couldn’t immerse herself into the show. at eddie’s assessment of incompetent law enforcement, max gave him a look, “if it seems that way then it definitely is that way.” she rolled her eyes, “we’d know living in hawkins… did you know they tried to give me a traffic violation for skateboarding on the side of the road?” groaning, max had to admit, “i’m so jealous that you don’t live here anymore. and you know, it’s only getting worse the older i get.”

+++

eddie rolled his eyes, over-dramatically but hummed in agreement, carerful not to let his pleased grin show because thats what he’d hoped max would suggest. not that he wouldn’t help her prepare the mayfield-munson-found-family-tv-dinners, he’d definitely help! just not...do them all by himself. because, as it turned out, he sucked at it. 

he settled further into the couch, idly sipping on his beer, dragging his upper lip mindlessly across the rim of the can as he let himself be engulfed by the storyline. eddie was a bit of a restless spirit, always fidgeting, never quite able to direct his attention on one sole thing for more than a few minutes. always looking for another distraction. it had been like that for as long as he could remember, though it had worsened significantly after their trip to the upside down.

as if on cue, he felt a phantom burn where his scars were located. a constant reminder that he’d been through hell and survived. “huh?”, he frowned, tore his eyes away from the screen to look at max. “for skateboarding? jeez, man. whats next, tickets for walking down the street? breathin?” eddie threw his hands up in theatrical mock outrage. “alas, we keep being oppressed by the man! sickening.”

he took a pointed gulp of his beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “you know, you can always get outta here, max.”, he said, mood a little sobered now. “offer still stands, kiddo. come back to chicago with me. i mean, yeah, my apartment’s like half the size of this trailer and a fucking shithole but we’ll make do. we can figure something out.”

where: where do we think

what: eddie’s making his rounds at the hospital ig

who: @backtowheeler​ + eddie.

coming to see that steve was doing semi-okay, that he was awake at least and well on the road to recovery had calmed his jangled nerves signifcantly. however, it had done nothing for the rest of his sleep-deprived being,truly, he must’ve looked like a ghost, roaming around the painfully brightly lit hallways. he felt like it, too, felt like he could very well collapse with every step he took.  but it was fine, he’d catch some shut eye later, maybe a quick nap in that awfully uncomfortable plastic chair next to steve’s bed. eddie wasn’t leaving him out of his sight again. not a chance in hell.

surpressing a yawn, he pulled the door to what he suspected to be steve’s room open with considerable effort - had it gotten heavier in the last then minutes ? - clutching the cup of ice chips he’d left the room in search of. “your delivery, my lieg- oh.” eddie stopped, blinked and frowned as he wasn’t greeted with the sight of steve but rather nancy. a couple of beats passed in silence as eddie stood there, waited, so he could be certain that this was real and not some sleep-drunk hallucination. “wheeler, hey. i was just -” just what? ‘paying your ex-boyfriend who i’ve been sort of secretly dating for the past two weeks or so a visit and got lost on the way back?’ he pressed his lips together. “checking in on people. uh, steve.” clicking his tongue, he gave her a sheepish smile. “how are you holding up?”

my brain in social situations

steve & company - 001/???

001 - the fruity four @rcbinbvckleys ; @eddiemcnson ; @backtowheeler

mmuscles·:

.

“the fuck is your deal?” thad responded in turn. there were some people he could feel were up to no good, and there were some he could just tell. well whoever this random was fit the bill to a t. he let go of the stranger’s shoulder, shoving him back slightly on release, then folded his arms across one another, laying them flatly over his puffed out chest to prove that he was not one to mess with. from the other guy’s hair, to his clothes, and even the look in his eyes, thad wasn’t going to let him detect any sort of weakness. 

it didn’t help that almost immediately after, thad was all but laughed at. which really pushed at his buttons. “what’s funny about that?” he asked flatly, nose twitching. “i’m trying to buy my girlfriend flowers, sure you know all about that, pal.” he breathed out. unsure of why he was even listening to this guy’s suggestions, thad still looked around. where was melvald’s? what was melvald’s? uncomfortable with the whole situation, but wanting to walk away with something suitable for nancy. reluctantly, thad asked, “what the fuck is a melvald’s? where is it?”

+++

eddie’s brows shot up, looking the other up and down with a bemused and bewildered expression on his face. everything about him screamed ‘preppy’ and eddie scrunched up his nose. a scoff drawn out of him as he was shoved back. not that he was too surprised, of course, still plenty enough people in town who’d love for him to meet a gruesome end, he was sure. but he’d never seen this... perfect carbon copy of a ken doll around town before. eddie thought he even saw the other puff out his chest and he snorted.

“well...no, i don’t know ‘all about that’ but i don’t see how that’s, like, relevant here ? “, he asked cautiously, pressing ‘stop’ on his walkman. “i mean, you’re the one who approchaed me, in need of my services. but whatever.” as much as he liked to press people’s buttons, rile them up, he wasn’t looking for a fight, either.

“melvald’s. it’s a store, mike brady.”, eddie said and frowned. “down the main street, turn left when you see the church. think you can manage that?”

thequeenofhawkins·:

𝐖𝐇𝐎: Chrissy Cunningham & @eddiemcnson····

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓: Eddie said “Chrissy, wake up” and she did just that!

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: Forest Hills Trailer Park. The Munson Trailer if u will

Chrissy had been home for a week. One whole miserable week. She felt like she was losing her mind. Hazy memories mixed with confused glances. She had missed out on two years of her life, two years of college, she missed out on senior graduation. Did she even have a diploma? She would have to figure that out later. Right now, her education didn’t matter to her. All she could focus on was the how’s and why’s and where’s that led her to the forest commune that night. Chrissy didn’t think it was uncharacteristic of her and she believed that she went of her own volition, despite what Melissa had theorized.

But that didn’t change that Chrissy couldn’t remember much. She remembered standing in Eddie Munson’s trailer, watching him run off to get Special K, having the worst nightmare ever, and then waking up in the forest two years later. Before that day, she had never had an ounce of anything illegal in her body. She had never even drank more than a sip of beer. That kind of stuff would just ruin your body, Chrissy, her mother would say to her, and Christians are supposed to protect their bodies. 

That’s why she couldn’t tell her parents the events of what happened that night, other than she had merely gone to Eddie’s to study and then left to the commune. Unfortunately, that did nothing but convince them to believe that Eddie Munson had been a part of a cult and dragged their innocent daughter into it. So, Chrissy went to the source. Eddie knew what happened, or at least, whatever he gave her. 

The first time she knocked, no one answered, so Chrissy waited around the trailer park (like an idiot). The second time, Eddie finally opened the door. Then Chrissy mustered up the most accusatory voice she could,

“What the hell did you give me that night?”

+++

jesus h christ, it had been an eventful couple of weeks in hawkins, eddie mused to himself as he lazily strummed a few chords on his guitar, cigarette dangling loosely between his lips. between freak outs about the paranormal making a reappearance in town and making out with steve fucking harrington, eddie had barely had any time to himself, to just... wrap his head around what was happening.

though he'd been back in town since the beginning of summer, eddie still woke up startled every day, and it took him a few deep breaths until he made note of his surroundings. the trailer. hawkins. his room.

yeah, eddie stayed mostly in his room when inside the trailer - he'd made the mistake of accidentally passing out on the couch around the second night he'd been back, woke up in a cold sweat, eyes widened and glued to that spot on the ceiling where some two years ago, chrissy cunningham had floated to her death. god, how he resented vecna for the fact that even the trailer, the only home he'd ever known, gave him the creeps.

ever since that night, nightmares of chrissy cunningham coming back from the dead, blaming him for what happened to her, haunted him. same as the guilt haunted him, about the fact that he hadn't been able to save her. that he'd chosen the cowards way out - running away, leaving her there.

however, it seemed as if his nightmares slowly seeped into reality. plucking aimlessly at the chords, eyes closed, eddie had overheard the first knock. the second one however was louder, more aggressive, and with a roll of his eyes and a huff he laid the guitar aside, climbed off his bed and made his way to the door.

a loud, annoyed "what?" followed by stunned silence as he opened the door. he was dreaming. hallucinating. maybe he hadn't lit a cigarette, maybe it had been a joint. either this was a dream or he was tripping because there, right in front of him, stood chrissy cunningham - and she looked okay. alive. no broken bones, no garish look in her face.

a shaky inhale, eddie could feel his heart beating in his throat, whole body shaking as he stumbled backwards, away from the door. he quickly grabbed whatever was nearest - the tv remote, as it happened - and pointed it at her. for self defense, of course.

"no, no, no, no, no. go away. you're not real, you hear me? you're not real! leave me alone, go away, please.", eddie yelled between nervous breaths, cautiously stepping backwards. heart beating faster, breath coming out shallow and hitched, eddie felt a few wayward tears run down his cheeks before his back hit the wall.

and with a last slurred "please", dark spots started to appear in his vision and the world faded to black. fuck this.