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rebelfell · 11 days

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the return of gym!eddie — or the neighbors AU that nobody asked for… cont’d from here. 1.9k 18+, MDNI

eddie munson x fem!reader (implied plus size)

Eddie was shit at checking his mail.

It was partly due to the fact that his apartment was tucked away at the back of the property, while the mailboxes were up at the front by the clubhouse and the pool and the leasing office. So the only time he checked it was if he made a special stop coming in or out of the complex.

Except if he was going somewhere, eleven times out of ten he was running late. He’d breeze right past them, telling himself it made more sense to check on his way back anyway. But then by the time he was headed back, he’d have forgotten all about it—his brain too fried, or too distracted by an epic solo performed on his steering wheel.

He wouldn’t even remember his mailbox existed until he was already at home, all settled in on the couch and lighting up a bowl while Gollum, Sam or Frodo dozed off in his lap. And he sure as shit wasn’t going to interrupt that just to fetch some junk mail and overly busy sales flyers.

Normally, he was pretty good about grabbing it after he’d finished up at the gym. But with the new year had come scores of new gym-goers all making good on their resolutions. Which was great and all, good for them, blah blah blah.

But it meant his usual quiet, alone time was suddenly...not that.

And he’s just not like Steve, you know? He doesn’t get off on people seeing what he can bench or strutting around in his sweaty tank and green shorts so everyone can take a good, long look at him. Reaching around the back of his own head and grasping at the hair there, squeezing it at his dampened roots until the tendons in his arms flex and his muscles bulge.

No. All Eddie wants is to sit quietly and do his reps in peace and (relative) solitude.

The only person he’s ever wanted to share the gym with was you…but it had been weeks now since your accidental meeting. And he was really hoping the only reason he hadn’t seen you around lately was because you too were also avoiding the resolutioners, and not because you were dodging him after your conversation.

He’d been playing it on a loop in his brain ever since. Not like, obsessively, or anything…

Okay. Maybe just a little.

He couldn’t help it, though. You could have set a world record by now with the way you’ve been running through his mind. Even little, silly things like eating his Cocoa Puffs in the morning has him wondering about you and what kind of cereal you liked. He imagined someday stocking it in the pantry and pulling it out as you emerge from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from your eyes, smiling and sated after a night of carnal bliss where he made you come like fifty times.

(It’s a fantasy, okay? Can’t a guy dream?)

Of course no part of his fantasy would ever come true if he never got to see you again.

Maybe he’d freaked you out? Maybe you’d given up on the gym completely because he was such a creepy, weird, weirdo and you were avoiding it to avoid him? Maybe he’d already ruined it.

That thought in and of itself was devastating, but Eddie couldn’t even bring himself to entertain it for too long. Because ultimately, he still felt like everything had gone pretty well.

He knew your name now, and you knew his. He knew you had lived here about six months and that you worked from home just like he did. He knew you had one cat and there were five dogs you walked at various times during the week, but the two he hadn’t seen lived in the complex next door. He also knew you used mango body wash, but not because he asked about it.

Eddie actually felt like he’d been kinda-sorta charming? Maybe? You’d smiled a lot—Ozzy help him, he’d started counting how many times he’d made you do it. And you’d laughed at some goofy little thing he’d said which truly, genuinely, nearly sent him into cardiac arrest.

These thoughts and about a million others all swirled in his head as he opened up his mailbox.

He grumbled softly to himself as he flipped through the underwhelming stack just to be sure he didn’t miss a postcard from Wayne or some overdue bill. He was so distracted, he didn’t even notice the footsteps of someone walking up to lean against the wall behind him.

“Anything good?”

Normally, Eddie didn’t scare so easy. Maybe it was because he was still on edge after his work-out with the way the big hulking dude next to him had been huffing so loudly, snorting and grunting like a bulldog doing blow. Maybe it was because he’d been so wrapped up in thoughts about you, he wasn’t remotely ready for you to just appear like he had conjured you.

Wait…had he conjured you?

Whatever the reason—he jumped violently at the sound of your voice. His head whipped around and pain radiated in his skull as it connected with the sharp corner of his open mailbox door. Your eyes widened in horror as you watched his face screw up in agony, wincing along with him as he let out a loud and not remotely manly yelp.

“Oh, shit! I’m so sorry!”

As you swooped in, the stinging pain in Eddie’s head was instantly tempered. Probably because his brain was now too filled with you for him to remember he was injured.

Holy shit you were so close. Holy, holy, holy fucking shit you were touching his forehead.

The brush of your fingertips along his brow, gently lifting his scraggly bangs—why had he not trimmed them in anticipation of this impossible to predict set of circumstances??—had his heart melting into a puddle in the center of his chest, as did the smile that spread across your lips.

“I just wanted to say hi,” you lamented. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Oh, no—you didn’t scare me,” Eddie’s lips vibrated with the raspberry he blew. “That, um. That was on purpose. I do it all the time. It’s like parkour…for your face.”

The laugh that burst out of you might as well have been made of gold, it felt so precious to Eddie. It filled him with a shimmery kind of feeling like on the rare occasions when he drank champagne or that one Fourth of July he watched the fireworks over the lake and they reflected in the water.

“Well, you’re very good,” you said, the words still tinged with your giggle.

It made Eddie grin all big and stupid in spite of feeling like a little bit of a loser. And, hey, maybe he was. But if you didn’t mind, he sure didn’t.

Your eyes then darted downwards and he felt that same familiar surge of excitement as he had the last time you checked him out…until he remembered what he was wearing.

He crossed his arms across his chest, filled to the brim with regret he’d chosen today of all days to wear one of the long-sleeve compression tees he’d gotten for Christmas from Steve. Because even with his chest and arms technically covered, the material was so thin and fit him so tight, it left virtually nothing to the imagination. You could probably make out the raised ink lines of his tattoos if you looked close enough.

Christ, she can see my nipples, he thought miserably as he tightened his grip on himself.

“Headed to the gym?” you asked, with something he dared to believe was hope in your eyes.

“No,” he said, deflating even more. “I just finished. You?”

“Nah,” you shook your head. “It’s been too crowded. Lots of people made resolutions for the new year, I’m guessing. I’ve been going at sort of weird times trying to avoid them.”

Eddie nodded in agreement, fingers now digging into his bicep. Fuck. What was a not-creepy way to ask what those weird times were? Or to ask if you wanted to run away together? Or where to go on your honeymoon? Maybe he’d find out if he could just open his fucking gob and ask.

The realization about his shirt had made a wave of self-consciousness wash over him and even though his brain was moving at about a hundred miles an hour, his mouth was frozen shut. His silence, as well as his abrupt shift in demeanor, had annihilated any undercurrent of flirtation.

“Well, I should get going. I’ve got a dog to walk,” you said when the silence went on just a smidge too long. “I’ll see you around, hopefully.”

Eddie made a sound somewhere between the word yeah and a grunt. You gave him a little wave and started to walk away, the sinking sun behind your body surrounding you in light like a fucking goddess. Eddie seriously considered bashing his head into the mailboxes on purpose. Was he seriously going to blow this again?

“You know…”

Eddie nearly choked on his heart as it leapt into his throat. You did a little spin on your heel and turned back towards him, your eyes glinting fierce with mischief and a smile curling across your lips. Lips that formed the most beautiful words he’d heard since, I just wanted to say “hi.”

“I was thinking,” you said, shifting slightly from one foot to the other. “If I’m ever at the gym and it’s not super crowded, I could let you know. Like…if I had your number?”

Oh, boy. Be cool, be cool, be cool, be cool—

“Are you, uh, asking me to ask you for your number?”

Eddie grinned at you, a little smug in spite of himself as he did. He could only hope his façade of confidence was enough to hide the fact that he was literally jumping up and down clicking his heels with glee on the inside. You smirked back at him, just as smug, if not a little more.

“I don’t know,” you said. “Are you asking me to ask you to ask me for my number?”

The both of you tittered at that, and suddenly he didn’t feel so bad about being kind of a loser. Because it seemed like you were kind of a loser too. He beamed as he put his hand up to lean on the wall, giving you a practically cartoonish once-over as though he was about to lay down the smoothest, most panty-dropping line of his life.

“Well, are you asking me…wait, what?”

Eddie’s brain stalled as he tried to repeat what you’d said and he looked away, glancing down at his feet, thwarted by his own hubris. But it made you giggle again and he thinks it might be his favorite sound in the whole fucking world. He wished it could be his ringtone, his morning alarm, the signal on his dryer—

He’s yanked out of his thoughts by the sight of your extended palm, motioning gimme with the fingers he can’t stop picturing laced with his.

“Let me see your phone, dork.”

@tomtomslongdong that shirt is just for you, bb 🥳

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson stranger things #eddie stranger things #gym!eddie #modern!eddie #neighbors!au

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jewishrat420 · 3 months

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Eddie realizes he's a boy when he's thirteen.

And it's not magical, nor is it mundane, nor is it anything else that the pamphlet he found in the back of the record shop told him it might be.

It just kind of... happens. A few times.

First, he's in the shower.

He's scrubbing himself down with the loofah Wayne bought him, and it tickles and itches and rubs him in all the wrong ways, but he uses it because Wayne spent money on it.

It feels the worst when he scrubs over his chest, but it also kind of feels good.

Feels like he's washing a part of himself away that's unclean. Scrubbing and scrubbing until the skin is raw and red, hoping and praying that it too will come off with the water, drip down the drain with all the other dirty parts of himself.

It doesn't, and so he forgets.

Until his twelfth birthday.

Because there are pink candles on the cake.

There are pink candles on the cake.

And he doesn't know why, and he won't know why until another year after this, but he cries.

He cries until his throat burns and his skin sings with defiance at the feeling of traitorous tears turning his cheeks flushed and blotchy. He cries because it hurts.

He cries because the candles on the cake are pink, and the last birthday party he went to (back in third grade, before his class realized he was a parentless freak) boasted blue candles. Blue for a boy.

He doesn't know why, but he finds himself nauseous at the sight of his own.

Pink. For a girl.

And he doesn't get it, doesn't put two and two together, but he can't stand the sight of them.

He throws the cake to the ground and storms to his room.

And somehow, even though he should be, Wayne isn't mad at him.

He just lets Eddie be for a few hours, and then he returns with a can of soda (even though Eddie's rarely allowed to have any) and a new copy of Lord of the Rings, and he sits at the edge of the bed and says nothing.

Eddie sniffles. Wipes his nose with his sleeve. Apologizes for ruining the cake.

Wayne brushes him off. "I'll do it right next year."

Eddie doesn't know what he means.

(The following year, when Wayne comes out with blue candles on a blue cake, he understands.)

Either way, the realization is neither magical nor mundane. It's not special and it's not not special. It just is.

It goes like this:

He's reading that same copy of Lord of the Rings, sitting in the same bed, wearing the same clothes, and he thinks that he'd like to be like Frodo.

Or Sam.

Or Aragorn.

And he doesn't quite know why, and it doesn't quite matter. He just sits there, and sips at his soda (that he grabbed from the cabinet himself, because Wayne let him), and thinks that he'd like to cut his hair.

(Later, he'll realize that he prefers it long.)

He starts wearing his t-shirts baggier, and his shorts longer. Throws away all the skirts and dresses that never fit him quite right, then later finds some that do.

It's not mundane, and it's not magical. It just kind of is.

Eddie realizes that he's a boy the same way that he realizes he's been breathing his entire life. Constantly, and without effort.

And so he continues on, being a boy and breathing, in that very same way.

He sips his soda, and reads his books, and feels a little sick when he sees the color pink.

Feels better, though, knowing that he belongs to blue.

original thread

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things eddie #eddie munson is trans #trans eddie munson #transmasc eddie munson #transgender eddie munson #eddie and wayne munson #good uncle wayne #ftm eddie munson

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acowardinmordor · 1 year

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Thank christ everyone in Hawkins already thought he was a freak. Freezing mid-word in a monologue while the memory of his own failing pulse faded from his ears was exactly as weird as the fact that he was delivering the monologue from on top of a cafeteria table. The students who were ignoring him continued ignoring him. The ones paying attention waited for whatever dramatic continuation he’d have after a pause.

Eddie waited on the table, staring across the room to look at Chrissy Cunningham for a few seconds, then hopped down, speech abandoned, with scattered jokes in the room around him.

“Henderson,” he snapped as a summons, then headed for the exit.

“What was that dude? You were just getting going.”

“No talking.” He spun, holding up a finger dramatically. “Come with me, I need your brain.”

“In a zombie way or in a Dustin is Always Smarter than Me way?”

That didn’t get an answer, and Eddie didn’t speak again until he got to storage room off the stage, flipping on the red gelled lights, and closing the door.

“Alriiiiight. Ed, this is getting super weird now. You planning on explaining why I don’t get to finish lunch? You gonna talk before I miss class? I know you don’t care, but I actually go to my classes, it makes it much easier to pass them you know?”

Unusually still, Eddie slumped against the wall, and fiddled with his rings.

“Do you think if Frodo knew what it was going to cost to destroy the ring -- Before it started and Gandalf showed up. Like. If Frodo knew that it was -- Or, no, wait, if Sam knew what was going to happen, do you think he could have stopped it? Everything that went wrong?”

“Uhhhh. What? This is why we’re here? To talk about Lord of the Rings?”

“Just do your thing, Dusty-buns. Be the smart kid in the room. If Sam knew what was coming, could he have made it better?”

“Okay, you gotta stop getting high during school, dude, but sure, I can indulge your random thought exercise for a minute. I think if Sam knew what was coming, he wouldn’t have let Frodo leave the Shire. No hobbits in the Fellowship at all.”

Eddie winced. “Yeah, probably true. Sam was the smart one. But say he didn’t... run away. Say he wasn’t a coward about it. Could he fix things if he knew about stuff, or would trying make it worse?”

“Eddie,” Dustin prodded suspiciously, “Did you actually read your homework about Oedipus and now you’re trying to make it about a book you like? Wait. Are you trying to make me do your homework for you?”

“Just answer it, you brat. If he could change things, does he go all out? Explain it to Gandalf from the beginning? Make sure they skip Moria? Does he wait until the last minute so things don’t do the butterfly thing and he has more control to help? Does he practice with a sword or fight the barrow wights or make Elrond send Glorfindel with them? What would he -- what should he do? If he knew what was coming.”

An eye roll. Christ, the attitude on this kid.

“Dude, you’re weird today. This is for the campaign, isn't it? Great. But you know I’m going to figure out your surprise early because of this, and it’s going to ruin it for me. So you owe me big time. I want to roll with advantage the entire session today.”

Dustin paused to think, but the response came fast enough that he must have thought about it before.

“Your question doesn't really matter. If Sam knew what was coming for some reason, before it all started, then he already changed everything. It doesn’t matter if he wants to be subtle. He already started the butterfly effect. Just knowing it’s coming would make it all different even if he didn’t mean to change things. Sam would trust Strider sooner. He’d try to keep them safe in the Barrow Downs. Or, I don’t know man, he’d pack extra waterskins to make it easier to get across Mordor and that would slow him down and get him killed before they left the Shire.

“Or the other option: it’s like Oedipus, and everything he does to save them ends up changing nothing. Fate and shit. But you asked about what he should do, dude, so. That’s an easy answer. He has to try. No choice. Either he can make things better or he can't. But he has to try. Spiderman and Uncle Ben, that’s the answer to this ridiculous scenario,” Dustin finished with a shrug.

“That was talking about having super powers.”

“Uncle Ben was talking about everything. With great power…”

“Comes great responsibility,” Eddie finished.

“And knowledge is power. No choice.”

“So Sam Gamgee should just yell fuck it, and go all out, huh?” Eddie muttered, flopping himself into a sprawl over a musty chair.

“You really gotta stop getting high in the bathroom during second period, man.”

The red gel over the lights was to stop spill during shows. One of the bulbs was dying, and making the glow flicker a bit. Not lightning, no switch to creepy blue-grey in between, no bats screeching or flecks of death lingering in the air. A reminder though. Enough of one.

Dustin glanced at the flicker, and the flinch Eddie would have ignored a week ago made sense now that Eddie knew what could follow. The exasperated look, and the bit of indulgence as he let Eddie have his dramatics made the memory -- Memory? Vision? Prophecy? -- of Dustin sobbing above him a sharper contrast.

“You done?” Dustin asked, “cause I’m still hungry.”

Standing up, cracking his knuckles against his jaw, Eddie snagged the kid into a tight hug. “Ah my good young adventurer,” he said as he pulled away to hold him by the shoulders, “We’re just getting started.”

Pretending to be normal and giving a performance made his skin crawl, so he went back to a serious expression.

“Okay dude, seriously, what is wrong with you today?”

Christ, Dustin was going to be insufferable when he found out that he was Eddie’s first choice when he had a life altering crisis over a shift in his understanding of the universe. That he was where he went for advice. And that Eddie followed his advice. He was going to be awful, and Eddie really hoped he'd be around to suffer through it.

“Go tell Hellfire that tonight’s session is canceled.”

“What!?”

“Then grab Robin and find out if Steve is at work today.”

“WHAT? You don’t even like--”

“Then get your radio, get the rest of the party, and definitely get Max. We’re all ditching out the rest of the day. Meet me at my van. Nancy can take some of you. I’ll get the rest.”

“...Eddie?” Dustin’s voice wobbled a bit that time. He was starting to put it together.

“Yeah, man,” Eddie confirmed on a loud exhale. “I’ve gotta go talk to a cheerleader and try not to get punched because of it. You gotta get the others.”

“Eddie,” the plea, the denial in his voice was fucking painful.

“Sorry, buddy. It’s Code Red.”

Part Two>>

On Ao3

#eddie munson #time travel fix it #at least this one'll stay a ficlet #flip the board

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velvet4510 · 4 months

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Yes Sam Gamgee is boyfriend material - we all agree on that. But remember that Frodo Baggins is just as much boyfriend material. Respecting Sam’s opinions and asking what Sam thinks of Elves when nobody else cares what Sam thinks, roughly yanking blankets off Pippin when Pippin acts condescendingly toward Sam, cutting off the hand of a freaking Barrow-wight before it can kill Sam, countering Sam’s self-deprecating “just a piece of luggage” nickname for himself with “luggage with eyes” to assure Sam that he is crucial to the safety of the entire group, insisting that Sam share watch duties with him so Sam can get some sleep, trying to go on a suicide mission all alone to keep Sam safe, forcing Sam to eat something before they escape from a dark tower that he (Frodo) wants to get out of ASAP after finding out Sam hasn’t eaten, begging Sam not to try to take the Ring because he knows he might lose himself and hurt Sam, allowing Rosie to share Sam with him so Sam can have the happy family he’s always wanted, leaving his entire property and possessions to Sam in his will to ensure Sam will never want for anything again… I could go on for days here.

#lotr #jrr tolkien #samfro #lotr books #lord of the rings #frodo x sam #sam x frodo #samfrodo #frodo x sam x rosie

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canyourfavesurvivecastledracula · 3 months

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I humbly submit samwise gamgee and/or frodo baggins. Time for the smallfolk to have a shot!

Frodo has been answered already, so let's tackle Sam.

So on the one hand Sam is an incredibly accomplished super spy. But on the other hand he is Down To Fight basically all the time. He's extremely dedicated but also the character most wracked by indecision - while occasionally being almost suicidally impulsive. He's terrified of wolves and of wizards... and he walks open eyed into things that terrify him all the time.

Sam is going to have a very easy time convincing Dracula he's totally harmless, snooping silently around the Castle, absorbing relevant information from his long historical rants, etc. But he's going to have a very hard time not constantly beefing with Dracula. He beefs with Aragorn while assuming he's a Black Rider! He gives Faramir a piece of his mind while he is his prisoner, knowing that this is Boromir's brother. He gets detained by cops and immediately starts insulting them. Every time he opens his big mouth he puts his foot in it.

On the other hand he is practical enough to know that there are some enemies too big even for him. He recognizes that Galadriel is out of his league. He knows he's no match for Sauron in his own domain, despite what the Ring is telling him. So the question is which category Sam sorts Dracula into: Guy Who Could Easily Kill Me or Unstoppable Force of... well not nature obviously because for both Tolkien and Stoker Nature is very good actually. Let's say Cosmic Horror.

Unfortunately I think Dracula reveals himself as an Asshole a lot faster than Dracula reveals himself as an Evil Wizard and Demon. (And like. Sam isn't that bothered by Evil Wizards either. He was gonna fight Saruman). There's no shaving incident because Hobbits don't shave. Sam is down to fight people holding him prisoner as a matter of course. Lizard climbing I don't think will freak him out that much - Gollum does that. It's not till May 16th that things Get Real. So do we think Sam can go ten whole days without telling Dracula what he really thinks? Given that he picks fights with both Aragorn and Faramir almost immediately upon meeting them I... don't think that he can. Or rather, I don't think that it would be immediately obvious to him that he needs to. Like, he definitely can keep his mouth shut. But that doesn't mean that he will.

Sadly, therefore, I think that Samwise Gamgee can not survive Castle Dracula.

#sam gamgee #samwise gamgee #the lord of the rings #servicepeople

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frodo-with-glasses · 22 days

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More Reading Thoughts: In the House of Tom Bombadil

BEHOLD! ANOTHER CHAPTER! We’re making it at a magnificent clip nowadays

Eyyyy it’s Goldberry!

Frodo surprising himself with the poem that springs out of his mouth when he sees Goldberry will never not be hilarious and adorable

It does beg the question of where the heck that came from. Does Goldberry just have that effect on people? Does it have serving to do with Elf magic, like she implies? Does Frodo just have that accidental rizz?? Who knows!

Frodo: “Who is Tom Bombadil?” Goldberry: “Well, he is, of course, silly :-D”

Mighty convenient that Tom has exactly four beds for the four travelers

They DO take a bath before supper >8-D (Don’t mind me, just a comic idea percolating in my head. Some of you know what I’m talking about.)

Tom was waiting for them. Tom was waiting for them. He’d heard word that the hobbits were coming. He wasn’t actively trying to find them, but he wasn’t surprised when he did. I don’t know why that enchants me so much.

Merry and Pippin like “AAAHH NO DON’T TALK ABOUT THE WILLOW TREE” is simultaneously hilarious and heartbreaking depending on how you look at it

Heeheehee nightmare time

Frodo has a dream about Gandalf and Black Riders. Hmm, pity. You’d think he’d have a nightmare about water, given his near-drowning and the way his parents died…but I guess this is important for foreshadowing purposes.

Pippin has a dream about being inside the tree. He feels surrounded and afraid. Understandable.

MERRY has the dream about water and drowning?? Shut up!! If I were him, I’d be way more disturbed that a freaking tree was IN MY HEAD and threatening to kill me!!

“Sam slept through the night in deep content, if logs are contented.” Hilarious 🤣

Much apologies to my girlies on the server who headcanon the hobbits with phobias corresponding to the four elements; sadly, Tolkien is not on the same page as us this time.

Tom: “You’d better not be late to breakfast, or you’ll get nothing but grass and water!”

See, Frodo gets it. Rainy days are awesome. They are beautiful and force you to slow down and admire the world.

“The trees were here before you, mind, and they don’t much care for your shenanigans!”

Ooh, so the Barrow-wights are the ghosts of dead kings that the Nazgul woke up. Fascinating.

Nothing makes the world of Middle Earth feel old and rich in history more than Tom’s stories

Goldberry’s hand being partly translucent is such a vibe

WAIT. Tom and Goldberry. Differences. Tall and short. Blonde and brown. One graceful and ethereal, the other down to earth and joyful. Working together, not in competition. Frodo and Sam. SHUT UP GUYS I’VE CRACKED THE CODE—

Tom is friends with Farmer Maggot!!

FARMER MAGGOT HAS SPOKEN TO GILDOR

Dang where’s my fantasy epic about Farmer Maggot you guys

And this is the part where Tom puts the Ring on his finger and doesn’t disappear, and if they’d ever included this in the movies it would’ve destroyed the gravity and mystique of the Ring altogether

Merry having to bite back a yell like “HOLY CRAP FRODO’S GONE” 🤣

WAIT I CAN MAKE THAT ANGSTY TOO aw heck the brainrot is setting in

“Frodo laughed (trying to feel pleased)…” Relatable, Frodo, relatable

Tom: “And remember, DON’T GO NEAR THE BARROW-DOWNS!” Meanwhile, the hobbits, in the very next chapter:

#tom bombadil #frodo baggins #meriadoc brandybuck #merry #peregrin took #pippin #samwise gamgee #lord of the rings #lotr #my writing #chapter review

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