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#lisa watches football

d3l3t3d-deactivated · 5 months

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so the mistake i made watching season 33 of the simpsons was i watched all the highly rated/ranked/recommended/whatever looked good to me episodes first, and then i watched the rest, and i was like "damn this is pretty goo- oh yeah."

#just watched the episode where lisa raps about the economy.#also worth noting i skipped the treehouse of horror and the one about the football player just because i wanted to

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19burstraat · 1 month

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unbelievably specific modern things the crows would love. too bad they live in a late-1800s fantasy world

Kaz: screenshotting nfts, those web weaving posts about dog metaphors, leaving people on read, stealing from the self checkout in supermarkets, emo phases, wearing headphones but not actually listening to anything so they're just there just as a conversation deterrent, winding up scam callers, escape rooms, pretending to know nothing about pop culture in order to annoy people, playing solitaire online, Knowing A Guy for everything

Inej: social media sleuthing, posting goodreads quotes, strictly come dancing, snoopy, easily accessible climbing shoes, mr darcy, shouting at the screen when someone's judged incorrectly on a competition show, getting unbelievably competitive about wii sports/duolingo scoreboards/goodreads goals/animal crossing islands/air hockey, texting..... With loads of elipses... Like your parents.... and dropping unprompted wisdom in them.....

Jesper: neon clothes, the 💯 emoji, making everyone as miis on tomodachi life but being so bad at it that kaz and nina's miis end up getting married, lisa frank art, scamming people on depop, cheap jewellery that makes you go green, complaining about how cottagecore videos don't correctly represent the Rural Farm Life, shitty 2000s club bangers, the kitsch movement, giving your car a name, hoiking your novelty socks really high so everyone can see them, shitty christmas films, first person shooters

Wylan: speedpaint videos, joe hisaishi, being judgemental about other people's spotify wrappeds, djungelskog, that gif of the japanese mascot costume running through a bunch of explosions, watching weird low-budget adaptations of shakespeare plays with kaz, those arcade crane games, piercing your own ears with a needle and a lighter then being somehow surprised when it gets infected

Matthias: making an instagram account in-character for your dog, posting low-quality graphics of inspirational or biblical quotes on facebook (yk the ones w the landscape or sunset behind them), taking frowning selfies from below like your granddad does, viking media of any sort, buying dozens of identical t-shirts from big tesco, mixing up celebrities all the time, perpetually caving and giving the scouts/guides/youth groups/football clubs/carollers/etc money for their fundraisers

Nina: making bait posts online in the style of 'why can't we just print more money', period dramas, wearing huge mother of the bride style hats to weddings, saving recipes/crafts/art ideas on tiktok and then never actually doing them, pink gin, tiktok edits of fit celebs/characters, 3 hour video essays abt pop culture, saying 'break up with him' in response to every relationship woe, buying cheerful tat from flying tiger

#the reason I say mr darcy is bc he's a big bitch who does grand gestures at the eleventh hour and Works To Deserve Her. familiar no?#six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc #grishaverse #my post #long post

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inknopewetrust · 2 years

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oh, baby.

Summary: You and Eddie raise a baby… however, you’re not a couple and the baby isn’t real. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader [WC: 7k ] Warnings: takes place at the beginning of season 2, language. Quick Links: Masterlist

"And this," Mr. Allen walked up and down each row with the most serious face. Everyone else, all the students, were plagued with potential trauma at the preface of the assignment; "this is your only priority for the next week—including this weekend and the next."

You felt a cool breeze waft as he walked past your desk, continuing on forward as Steve Harrington audibly protested his instruction. The supposed "King of Hawkins High" wasn't impressed with having to take care of a child… well, a plastic one at that.

"Mr. Allen," he began from his spot in the second row from the door. All you could see was the brown poof of hair that he had become notable for. "I don't see why we can't just start this on Monday. We've got plans… there's a football game tonight!"

There were a few agreeing hums, mostly from the said football players in the room, but it wasn't as though they would be taking part in the assignment when they were on the field. Their partners would be left alone to deal with an unpredictable toy while they tossed pigskin for three hours for fun.

"And besides," Steve continued as Mr. Allen walked back to the front of the room, setting the baby down on his desk and grabbing two plastic bowls he had scavenged from home, "Halloween is next weekend! I bet we all already have plans…"

Steve turned around in his seat and looked around the room. He saw his peers watching him carefully, some in support and others in vague concern that he would get them in further conflict by having the task take up the whole month instead of a week and a half. He glanced over you hoping that being Nancy's childhood friend would spur a call within you to support him but alas, you would not give him the satisfaction.

In the back of the room, Steve's eyes landed squarely on one sole person. He chewed on his lip before turning around.

"Hell, I bet even Munson's got plans. You know we're all busy when he's actually doing something."

At that same moment, Eddie Munson had been sitting with his legs extended through the empty chair in front of him and his arms crossed against his chest. Even if he didn't want to be there in the slightest, Steve Harrington going on a tangent in the middle of senior health class intrigued him. And when his name slipped past the hair's lips, Eddie's face contorted. Eyes narrow and slightly offended. The new kid, Billy Hargrove, laughed as he twirled his pencil. He had been there for two weeks and had swept Eddie’s weed supply clean in a matter of days.

Eddie actually didn't have plans other than Hellfire on Friday, but he couldn't say that out loud. In fact, he didn't say anything. He had an inkling someone would call him to deal at whatever party everyone was going to, but unless it happened, he was staying in and getting stoned himself.

Everyone's head turned toward him and he forgot the real reason he didn't skip that hour. They were all judgemental. He was an oddity to them. You even glanced over your own, three rows in front of him and to the right.

When he caught your gaze, you were the only one to look at him like a real human being, a person, not a freak. Just simple curiosity because everyone else had. You gave him a tiny, empathetic smile before turning back around and he found himself staring at the back of your head after it happened. It made his heart skip a beat.

"Mr. Harrington," Mr. Allen placed one of the bowls he was holding onto Steve's desk, "Nothing's changing. I've conducted this role-play for ten years and it is not changing because you, or anyone else in this class, has plans that don't fit the lifestyle of what it means to be a parent."

He pointed to the bowl before placing the other on a girl named Lisa's desk, "Steve, you pick the boys and Lisa here will pick the girls," he turned his attention back to the room as Steve ran a frustrated hand through his hair. A couple of the girls around you groaned, whispering to one another that the system was rigged because they knew they could no longer pick their partners.

"No picking partners. I'm letting the magic bowls choose them for me. No debating, no arguing. I don't care if you think your partner is bad or not, you will complete this task together. Who knows," he laughed at the looks of the students, "maybe you'll find a new friend through all of this."

“Go ahead, Steve,” he ordered, leaning against his desk with ankles crossed and an amused smile playing at his elderly lips. Glasses perched near the end of his nose, Steve huffed at him and tucked his hand away into the bowl and ruffled the slips of paper.

And like luck, Steve Harrington pulled his own name first. Eddie smiled in satisfaction at that–knowing that there was a chance Steve would most certainly be paired with someone he didn't want after he called him out in class. He hoped Billy would have the same fate too. Hell, everyone who looked at him like he was a fucking Martian from planet Mars.

The irony that Hargrove listened to the same music, smoked the same dope, and drove his car just as recklessly but remained at the top of the food chain at Hawkins High hadn’t escaped Eddie. Girls liked Billy; he played basketball, gave them cheeky smiles, and certainly did not play a fantasy game for fun. He was the antithesis of Eddie’s existence–but a bully and raging asshole too. Billy Hargrove was a piece of shit and it had taken Eddie two days in class to figure that out.

“And Steve will be paired with…” Mr. Allen waited for Lisa to mimic Steve’s draw and she unfolded the paper.

Lisa drew Tammy Thompson's name which could have been worse for Steve. It took 3 minutes for Steve to pull Billy Hargrove's name who was then paired with Kennedy Walker, the school's future valedictorian. The look on the poor girl’s face was sadly hilarious. Hargrove winked at her and she turned such a shade of red that she looked like a balloon. But before Eddie could ponder what an interesting pair that made, Steve sighed and pulled another name from the bowl.

Steve crinckled the thin strip of paper in his hand before tossing it onto his desk, "Munson," he looked at Mr. Allen who nodded as he did with each name.

"And the lucky partner?" Mr. Allen had to have been joking except there wasn't an ounce of teasing in his words. Lisa picked the name out of the bucket and unfolded it with her candy red nails. Then, she laughed. Her eyes crinkled at the side from what you could see as she sat in the first seat beside the door. She looked over her shoulder, directly at you in her line of sight and smiled like a wicked wench.

"Y/n L/n." Shit.

A few of the girls giggled, a couple of the guys whistled which had bristled the compass within you south. You didn't care that you had been paired with Eddie because of what people thought of him–the primary reason they were all bemused with the pairing–but rather at the possibility that he couldn't give two-shits about the assignment. It may have only been October but you had already caught him before two different classes being chastised by teachers for not doing his work. If he kept it up, they said, he wouldn’t graduate with his class.

"Off the hook, ladies," one of the girls on the cheer squad laughed, "Y/n's got him."

Lunch could not have arrived fast enough.

You rushed to the front of the line, grabbed your tray, and made a straight shot for the table you had taken an unassigned assigned seat at. Nancy wasn't there when you arrived so you just picked at your food, rolling the grapes in the small section they had been dumped into and watched the entrance like a hawk. Your leg bounced under the table with a tinge of nervousness, but the aggravation of failure was starting to eat you alive and it had only been an hour since Mr. Allen screwed over your grade. Slowly, the lunch room came to life and Nancy held her calculus book in one hand and purple lunch bag in the other.

Even she had a sour look on her face. Lips pursed and brow furrowed, her hand tightly clenched around the bag as the small gold promise ring from Steve shined in the harsh lighting of the room.

"You'll never believe who Mike gave my number to," Nancy huffed as she sat down; her lunch bag filled scarcely with a peanut butter and jelly and a bag of Cheetos. She had four sticks of cut up celery that you gagged at, not understanding how she could enjoy the stringy vegetable for fun.

"You'll never believe who I was partnered with for Allen's baby project," You stopped pushing around your food and she looked at you with heeded interest, her eyebrows drawn together and her wide eyes concerned.

"You first," you pointed a finger at her as she shifted in her seat. The others at the table started to sit down and engage in their own conversations–you had totally forgotten about watching the doorway to the lunchroom. "Keith?"

"From the arcade! The one who always," she scrambled her hands in front of her in frustration before letting out a groan, "he's always got his dirty fingers on the buttons and offers the kids soda way past a normal time."

There was not a day that went by where you did not think that Nancy Wheeler lived with the silver spoon, nay, stick, up her ass.

"All because of someone who broke Dustin's record of Dig Dug. Who does that!?" Nancy unzipped her bag and sure enough, a PB and J with a bag of Cheetos as a side with sticks of celery tucked in a plastic baggie.

"Maybe he's just playing matchmaker…" You stabbed a grape and popped into your mouth with a smile. "Steve was being an annoying shit in class today, so maybe, just maybe, you should be searching for someone else."

"When isn't he like that?" She laughed, "He's Steve Harrington for God's sake."

"Well, I think he's to blame for the luck I had in class today."

"Luck? You were just on the verge of complaining," she glanced quizzically at you, looking over your shoulder when a paper ball went flying in the direction of the table. "left," she said and you tilted to the left as the wad went flying past both your heads and ended up by the science club's table. It was a daily occurrence. "So, who's your partner?"

"Eddie Munson."

Nancy stopped trying to open the bag of Cheetos. "What?"

"Be glad you're not a senior yet, Nance… this project is going to be the death of me, I swear," your head found a home in your hands as you pushed the tray away from you.

"I'm going to fail it! There is no way I can get an A without a capable partner and then what? Will I have to repeat senior year because I failed health? HEALTH?" You exclaimed.

"You won't fail," she conceded. Placing the snack onto the table, she reached out and patted the side of your arm. "If it really gets bad you can always ask Steve."

"He's partnered with Tammy Thompson. There is no way he'd help me with what Allen said about these babies."

"What did he say? Where is the doll anyway?"

"Eddie's got it. Maybe I'll never see it again if I'm lucky," you removed your hands from the table and folded them in your lap as you told her the assignment requirements and what Mr. Allen had said to expect about the baby. As you talked, she picked at her food and the fruit off your tray as some of the girls from newspaper filled the seats around you.

"At least it doesn't actually, you know, pee or anything."

"But the sensor doesn't know that it isn't real. I don't even know how he got dolls so advanced… I had a flour baby when I was a kid and this is as close to a real baby as possible except it doesn't blink."

"Creepy," she mumbled before picking the bag back up.

"Very," you agreed and took a second to glance around the room. Some of the partners were already facing their first challenges. A few were trying to quell the crying, a couple sat together planning their week out so they could work together and have equal time, but when you looked at the table that normally held Hellfire, Eddie wasn't there.

"They all laughed when my name was called," Nancy's head quirked back up at you, "I don't care that he's my partner; that's not why I'm complaining, but this isn't going to be an easy week."

That was the truth—you didn’t care that Eddie was your partner because as a person, Eddie was not as bad as everyone labeled him to be. He was actually, in an admission that you’d take to your grave instead of tell Nancy, fairly handsome and interested the hell out of you. It was the work ethic and motivation that concerned you.

"People are just mean, Y/n," you nodded in agreement, "you just need to focus on the assignment and if you're lucky, like you always are," she peered into your soul with that jealousy, "everything will go swimmingly."

Nancy Wheeler knew she spoke too soon when the doors to the lunchroom flung open with flair. She jumped and turned around in her seat when she saw your soul escape from your eyes.

"Hey! Mama!"

Jesus Fucking Christ.

He was holding the doll by its back leg, letting it dangle from his hand as if it were that black, metal lunchbox you convinced yourself had drugs tucked away in it. Eddie was looking directly at your table as though he had been searching for you for hours.

“Did he just—“ Nancy cut herself off as she watched him make his way toward the table. A group of preps flipped him off on the way and he gladly returned the bird with glee.

“He just called me ‘mama.’”

You put an arm defensively covering your face, shielding your eyes away from him as the Hellfire table furthered his amusement by cackling at him. Nancy whipped her head back around to you and felt the embarrassment roll off.

“It’s only a week,” she reminded you, “only about a week.”

Eddie’s feet landed at the end of the table and the girls at the end went silent. He was standing there, holding the doll by its hind leg, and quirked his head to the side. His eyes were entertained at the way you had blocked yourself away from him. The call of ‘mama’ making your skin crawl and elating him from far away. He could push a few buttons without feeling bad about it.

“You embarrassed of me, L/n?” He feigned hurt, “what’s our kid gonna think when he learns his parents don’t get along?”

“It’s a doll, Munson,” your hand that had been blocking your face hit the table hard. “It has no memories and will certainly, never, ever, grow up.”

“If Allen heard you say that he’d give us an F,” he walked around the table and took a seat beside you, legs spread as they caged you in from the side and he plopped the baby on the table with a thud. Its head face down on the table as its poorly drawn on strands of hair faced the ceiling. He was wearing double denim. A jacket filled with pins and patches, a chain hung from one loop of his pants to another and the red flannel he wore underneath it was left open to reveal a t-shirt for a band you had never heard of—holes littered the neckline that sat beneath a silver chain.

Across from you, Nancy sat rigid as she watched the way Eddie’s eyes watched you. A small smile playing on his face as one of his hands found themselves in his lap and the other elbow perched on the table beside the doll.

“We should probably talk about this, huh?” He asked, surprising you by actually wanting to talk about the assignment. You turned your head and looked at him, eyes bemused by his willingness to do so. Eddie recognized that, scoffing and reaching inside of his jean jacket to grab a pack of cigarettes before tapping one out. He slipped them back in and stuck the one he plucked from the pack between his lips.

“You know,” he glanced at you, then Nancy, then back at you, “when a teacher tells us we have to work together, I don’t expect to do all the talking.” He lit the cigarette with a puff and the girls at the end of the table began to complain. No one was allowed to smoke in the cafeteria—only the teacher's lounge and well, that was reserved for teachers.

“How do I know you actually want to talk about this?” You countered. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you turn in an assignment before.”

“You been takin’ notice of me, L/n?” He smiled wide, grabbing the cig with two fingers and tapping it onto the floor. “If you wanted to talk to me you could just do it, ya know? Don’t need to stare at me.”

“Wheeler,” he looked at Nancy who drew her brows together, the tight contortion of her face judging him without words. “You know your friend has been watching me? Should I put an ad in the paper for a bodyguard to protect me from my stalker?” Nancy didn’t reply because she had never held a conversation with Eddie before. She didn’t understand his humor, let alone the levity of his words as he blew smoke in her face and sat next to her best friend like a suave Casanova.

“Eddie,” you sighed, letting your gaze drift around the cafeteria and caught a few interested stares along with way. One teacher, Ms. Kirch–the freshman biology teacher with a hard-on for students willing to press her buttons—was walking around the perimeter on the other side. If she saw Eddie smoking, they’d both make a scene.

“I know you think school’s a joke but I’m not failing this just because you don’t want to do it.”

“Who said I don’t want to do this?” He furrowed his brows, shaking his head at you as he put the cigarette back to his lips. The red burning as he breathed in.

“Oh I don’t know… your attendance record, report cards, all previous group projects that I’ve never seen you show up for.”

“Those are all Ms. O’Donnell’s,” he defended, pointing a finger at you, “She’s a bitch and has it out for me.”

“I just want to know for sure that if we do this together, I won’t be left to do all the work at the end.”

Eddie saw the honesty in your eyes as you admitted it. He never truly understood what it meant to be an academic because it felt superficial. The attachment to good grades and praise that he never got, so, naturally, he never comprehended. You were a good student—a good person, rather. When he heard your name called after his and the snickers that followed, Eddie was reminded of the fact that you didn’t treat him like a ‘freak’ but a person. And hell, there was a first time for everything when he wanted to try something new. Completing a project because his partner didn’t treat him like dirt? Eddie could at least try it out.

“Why do you think I’m here?” He tapped the cigarette and the ash fell to the floor again. “If I’m going to graduate, I’ve gotta get this done too.”

You nodded slowly in observation. Eddie did not appear to be lying. That blasé attitude he had walked in with gradually decreasing the more you talked. Glancing again at Ms. Kirch who was directly across the room from you beside the table of jocks, the details of the week would be limited to a few seconds before she came charging over and causing a scene. You turned to the small stack of one notebook and history textbook that laid next to your tray. Ripping a paper out of it, you stole the pencil from Nancy’s stack and wrote down your address on it.

“Here,” you handed it to him and he looked over it with a smirk, “that’s my address and phone number. Kirch is going to bite your head off in a minute and we don’t have time to go over all the details so if you’re free later, stop over after school and we can divide everything out.” He knew where you lived. Three doors down from Gareth—his friend and band mate and also, another one of Hawkins’ finest on their way to repeating their final year of school and he was only a sophomore.

“Your parents aren’t gonna beat my ass or anything when I get there? I know I have a bit of a…” he clicked his tongue, tipping his head to the side, “reputation.”

The shrug you gave did not ease his concerns right away. However, the comment that followed made him realize that actually attempting to complete this project with you was a good thing. Maybe luck was finally giving him a chance.

“Not everyone in this town thinks you’re a freak, Munson,” you gave him a small smile, pointing your own finger to one of the buttons on his jacket, “besides, my dad’s favorite band is WASP. I think he’d like someone to talk about it with—even if just for a second.”

He smiled and Nancy Wheeler was taken aback by the scene in front of her. Seven minutes ago, you were in distress with the idea that Eddie Munson was going to be the worst partner imaginable and the cause of failure in senior health class. Now, you were offering him kind smiles and an invitation to your home with so much as his own words being enough to convince you that he wouldn’t leave you high and dry with an unpredictable doll.

Eddie grabbed the doll by its leg again, ready to escape before Kirch made her way but you could already hear her footsteps coming barreling your direction.

“I’ll take it now and bring it over later,” he nodded, sticking the cigarette between his lips again and letting it dangle there, “we should probably give it name instead of referring it as an ‘it.’”

“Mr. Munson!” That shrill voice made him cringe.

“Think about it. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He rose his eyebrows at you as if asking you to agree. You nodded, giving a small ‘yeah’ in response before he shot out of the seat.

“Mr. Munson, smoke outside if you must! Do you not understand the rules of this school?”

Behind you as he stood, Eddie turned toward Ms. Kirch. He let out a puff of smoke between his lips as her hand batted the fumes away from her face. The doll hanging on its one limb and swinging left to right as Eddie taunted her.

“Ms. Kirch,” he swooned, a few amused giggles sound from the tables around you as your head tipped over your shoulder, Eddie’s eyes flashed to yours as he played into her hand. “If you wanted to compliment my ability to break those so-called rules, you could at least have sounded excited to say it.”

“You put that out right now or you’ll be spending after school in detention and it’s going straight onto your record!”

“On my record!?” He laid his free hand on his chest, slowly backing up from where he was standing. Eddie was going to bolt because the old woman wouldn’t run after him. “Ms. Kirch, you know how much I respect my record,” he shook his head dramatically, hair vibrating with the shake as the bud sizzled again. “But, I have plans tonight so…”

The cigarette fell to the floor from his lips, cooling against the white tile as she went to protest. Eddie’s shoe squished it, extinguishing it, and once his foot lifted from the flattened cig, he ran. Ms. Kirch walked no more than two feet as brief laughter erupted in the area—sure they all made fun of Eddie and ostracized him from normal high school life but hell, if he didn’t bring a bit of joy to them when he pissed off the old lady that watched them all like a hawk in their freest period. A chuckle slipped out of you and she turned to you with a glare.

“Do you find this funny, Ms. L/n?”

She smelt like stale flowers and her lipstick was pearled in some spaces on her lips. Kirch was haggard and growing older every day.

“No, ma’am,” you shook your head at her and turned back around. Nancy was sitting with wide eyes, scared of the woman who lingered for a moment behind you before running off to find a janitor to clean up.

“Shit,” Nancy muttered quietly.

“What?”

“He’s deranged, Y/n. Deranged.”

“It’s only about a week, right, Nance? Only about a week.”

And that week would be the most interesting week of your life.

Eddie came over as he said that afternoon after school. At your kitchen table before your parents got home from work, you both devised a plan on how to go about taking care of the doll—and as Eddie had asked, you tried to think of a name but that was harder than it proved to be. He said the first thing that popped into his head and that was unfortunately, Bilbo.

Bilbo. A doll named after Bilbo Baggins from The Hobbit was the baby you had to take care of together.

It did not even matter that the doll was plastically formed with female anatomy because he said: “What’s in a name, anyway? It’s just a doll.”

So, Bilbo it was.

And Eddie offered to take it for the night because he had Hellfire on Friday’s when you had nothing, therefore you could swap in the morning and you’d go about the plan when the weekend arrived. The plan, however, was more than what you had originally believed needed to take place for the assignment. Nancy called you Thursday evening after Eddie had left to complain that Steve would be spending all of his free time helping Tammy with the doll and was blowing her off until Halloween—a whole week later. You hadn’t fully realized that what you and Eddie had planned to ensure that you’d both pass health this semester was essentially spending all of your time together [sans Tuesday when his band played at The Hideout and Friday when he had Hellfire].

You slept well Thursday with those thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. Nancy’s concerns were her concerns. She had confided in you that she and Steve were having issues anyway, so one more nail in the coffin did not appear to be as detrimental as she complained it was. If Steve and Nancy were on their final string, the end was imminent. When you woke on Friday, the first thing on your mind was how the night had gone for Eddie and if what Mr. Allen said was true about the babies, had he had an absolutely awful night being a ‘parent’ for the first time?

That question was answered rather quickly as you entered the hallway at seven-thirty.

“Mary! You can’t just leave me with the thing!”

“I am not taking it tonight!”

“It wants food and there’s no way to feed it!”

There were ‘couples’ fighting at every turn. As you passed Tammy Thompson’s locker, Steve looked like he wanted to pull his hair out.

“I can’t do it! I can’t do it!” He complained to her as he held the baby on his hip. It was a sight. Steve in his tight jeans and blue jacket, striped polo, to have a doll perched on his hip like it was real. Everyone was taking it seriously which made the entire situation feel less awkward and daunting.

You reached your own locker, twisting the combination while trying to snoop on Steve’s conversation five lockers down on your left.

“This thing never shuts up! I got no sleep last night and I don’t think I’ll even be able to go to the game tonight because I’m dragging ass!”

“Steve, come on…” Tammy trailed off because she had to sing the national anthem and could not bring the doll with her. But she should have—the doll could probably sing better than her.

“It’s not fair, Tammy!” Steve’s voice began to dwindle as he looked around and noticed people staring at him. He locked eyes with you over Tammy’s shoulder and sighed heavily.

Suddenly, the textbooks and folders in your locker became interesting—far more interesting than all the arguing going on in the hallway. Mr. Allen had made everything difficult intentionally. Splitting up groups so one person cared for the doll at a time before each group realized they couldn’t do it alone. The tactic was good, great even. The responsibilities of childcare and parenting obvious to those who had terrible nights and to those who hadn’t had realized it yet, the feelings were inbound.

As was Eddie. Charging down the hallway after barely hitting a gaggle of kids heading to the middle school in the parking lot and the doll, Bilbo, once again hanging from its hind leg as it swung. He called out your name so loud that even Steve had shut his mouth and stopped talking to Tammy. Eddie had one of those bad nights too. He strode right up to the side of your locker and had a crazed look on his face.

“What the fuck!?” He exclaimed, bags under his eyes. You couldn’t answer the question because you weren’t sure what had gone on.

“What?”

“What do you mean, ‘what’!? This thing,” he held it up like a captured possum, “kept me up all night with its relentless screaming and I couldn’t figure out how to turn it off!”

“I don’t think you can turn it off,” you commented, grabbing your science book and folder as your bag hung from the hook. “That’s not the point of the project. The point is to learn how to care for it, not turn it off.”

“Well,” he laughed cynically, “we were given a devil child. Literally the spawn of goddamn Satan because it doesn’t want to be cared for.”

“I thought we weren’t calling it ‘it’ anymore. Bilbo, remember?”

“Bilbo is too kind of name for this thing. It’s Lucifer… fucking… Sauron!”

“I can’t get on-board with Sauron,” you bit back a smile at his suffering, “But your duty is over now, right? Just leave Bilbo with me and we can meet up tomorrow and swap.”

“You’re not going to be able to do it alone,” he said it honestly, like he was terrified of the watermelon sized piece of plastic. You glanced around the hallway and saw all the partners having conversations similar, but all the same different, like the one you were having with Eddie. He was having an internal battle with himself—realizing that he actually had to do this and that when looking back on his own life, if this is what having a child was like, he could not imagine how his parents got through high school having him at sixteen. He had just turned eighteen and could barely keep it together and it was a doll named after a character from a children’s book.

“Do you not believe I can?” You questioned him yet he shook his head, taking note of the things in your locker instead of looking at you.

“That thing is a monster and if it’s not waking you up, it’s eating away all your free time. If it’s not eating away at your free time, it’s taking up all the time spent doing things that matter. It sucks the joy out of life without even taking a real breath.”

“Those are harsh words, Munson,” a sigh left your lips as you gripped your locker door. He was looking at the two Polaroids that were stuck on the door with tape. You and Nancy on the Fourth of July and then you with a group of little kids a few Halloween’s back dressed as character’s from Star Wars. You were hugging a curly haired Han Solo that had no teeth. “But maybe you just don’t have the parental touch that it needs.”

“What are you saying?” He narrowed his eyes, “That I’m neglecting Bilbo’s needs?”

“Maybe,” you shut your locker, “But either way, you have Hellfire and I agreed to take ‘em off your hands today so,” you grabbed Bilbo from him and perched him like Steve had perched his doll. Something stuck inside Eddie in that moment. It was a goddamn doll and he was sleep deprived, so he conflated his bubbling feelings of whatever the hell spurred inside of him to that. You looked cute holding the doll like that.

“We can talk about it tomorrow, alright? If anything needs to change, we have time to discuss it. Don’t get all worried.”

Eddie shook his head, running both of his hands through his hair and over his bangs before bringing them back down.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into, mama.”

And then he walked away. You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into, but, certainly it couldn’t be as bad as he was making it because sometimes, people could be dramatic—and Eddie Munson was the dictionary definition of the word. Always had been, always would be, and maybe, he was playing with the truth.

For three hours it had gone swimmingly. Bilbo made no noise.

But the minute Mr. Grosso put the Spanish test on your desk, the doll wailed so loud it made a girl scream from the other side of the room and you missed the test because it cried for thirty minutes in the bathroom before you could calm it down.

You swore you could hear the popping of his muffler three miles away. The blinds on the living room window comically split into two by your fingers, you peered out in anticipation you had gone to sleep feeling. Not quite butterflies but a nervous, anxious energy that kept you tossing and turning through the night. Along with Bilbo—the baby had kept you tossing and turning to the point where you felt crazy.

When you got home, you realized that the doll had smelt like weed and cigarettes but the distinct smell of Eddie’s cologne tried to cover it up. He had sprayed that doll with so much liquid that it had become ingrained into its clothes and soft body. You ripped off the onesie it was wearing and dunked it in the laundry immediately. And again, for the first few hours you managed to get your homework done for the weekend without much interruption until your parents got home.

They were utterly amused with the project and kept repeating that it was good for “skill building and responsibility.” You rolled your eyes and told them what Eddie had said about his night, expecting the same for your own and sure enough, it was like walking through the pits of hell.

Bilbo’s journey, Frodo’s journey… neither of them had the same horror of the screaming baby doll sitting on your comforter at two in the morning. Hour after hour, all you wanted to do was cry because it wasn’t responding to any of the tactics you had used when you would babysit. No rocking, no shushing, no gentle strokes, and just as the others complained in the hall, you couldn’t change its diaper or feed it. The solutions to ease its complications were non-existent.

Eddie rung you at eleven thirty saying he’d be over ‘in a bit’ and you stood at the window in your living room while your dad watched TV and your mom cooked lunch. The doll laying quietly on the sofa beside him for the first time in a half hour.

“So,” your dad cleared his throat as the program changed at noon, “what’s Eddie Munson like as a partner? I know his uncle Wayne from the plant.”

“He’s fine thus far,” you muttered, not tearing your eyes away from the window.

“You know this doll smells like a skunk.”

“It’s weed, dad,” you said so casually his eyebrows rose, “and it’s Eddie’s, not mine. And no, I don’t smoke.”

“I wasn’t going to ask,” he laughed but he would have. Not that he cared in the slightest if you did, that was all mom. Mom cared about reputation and manners and whether or not you’d have yellow teeth by the time you’re fifty. “But is he treating you alright?”

“What do you mean?” You looked away from the window and back at him, “We’re not really a couple, you know. It’s just a project,”

“I know, I know,” he clarified, waving you off like you had taken the comment too seriously, “as a partner. Not making you feel uncomfortable or anything?”

He might know Wayne, but the label of ‘freak’ extended beyond school. Eddie Munson flew around town in his beat up van playing his metal music at the highest level, smoked and loitered outside of stores, and very frequently, jested with the people of Hawkins to amuse his merry band of oddities.

“Eddie’s a good guy, dad,” you lamented, “so what if he likes metal and plays D&D.”

“D&D?”

“Yeah,” you furrowed your brows at him, “what did you think he did? He literally named the doll after Bilbo Baggins.”

“I thought Hellfire was…”

“What the mothers at the grocery store say it is?” You scoffed and turned back to the window, Eddie’s van turning the corner at the end of the block. “It’s a D&D club. I told him he’d probably get along with you too so try not to accuse him of worshiping the Devil, ‘Kay? That’s like… the furthest thing from the truth.”

He just nodded as you defended Eddie, a little smile on his face because he knew you so well. You were a good kid, a smart kid, but oblivious sometimes. If Steve Harrington had been your partner and he inquired about Steve’s role as a partner, you would have rolled your eyes and ended the conversation there. Eddie pulled into the driveway and you grabbed the baby off the couch, marching to the door. Opening it wide, he hadn’t even exited the van before you were standing there. Split between the wooden door and the glass one, pumpkins littered the small deck and a wreath rested on the door behind your head.

You had a cute house. It was simple and friendly, something his trailer was not. Eddie saw you standing there with a flat face and Bilbo in your hands and he laughed in his car. You could see his elated face burst with laughter; it irritated you but you couldn’t help thinking the sight was special. How often he had been smiling and laughing in your presence and a little butterfly sprouted in the pit of your stomach.

Eddie tossed the keys between his palms as he lazily approached the door, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Looks like someone had a rough night,” he commented a few feet from you as you unlocked the glass door and propped it open. “Didn’t believe me when I said it was Satan?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, putting on a face for him to prove you could handle the stress of taking care of a plastic doll. “Bilbo was a saint. Slept through the night.”

Eddie reached the door, holding onto the silver handle so you could let go.

“Yeah?” He questioned, “tell that to your face, sweetheart. You got no sleep and you look like you walked through Mordor.”

“Do you always reference Lord of the Rings or is it just to prove you read?” You squinted your eyes at him.

“One, I do read,” Eddie entered your house and stood across from you in the small doorway. The doll separating you, he looked down, you looked up. “And two, Bilbo likes it when I talk about familiar things,” He gave a wide, toothy smile before grabbing the doll out of your hands and moving into the entryway.

“You know, this kind of feels like how I’d imagine kids of divorce feel.”

“Like being pawned off by their parents every other day because rules told them to?” You shut the door behind you, pressing it closed with the thud. You pointed to his shoes and directed him to take them off to where a mat sat beside the wooden table with a mirror hanging above it.

“Mhm,” he hummed as he slipped them off. He was wearing matching socks. “Poor ‘lil Bilbo Munson-L/n… separated by the rules written on the back of Mr. Richard’s history test.”

You scoffed, walking past him and down the hallway as he struggled with his right shoe. In a matter of seconds, his socked feet patted against the wood flooring and caught up with you.

“My parents are home so don’t be weird or anything,” you muttered and he caught himself nodding at the direction instead of responding with the sarcastic remark because of the way you said it. ‘Don’t be weird or anything,’ as if he was not already labeled that way or saw himself as ‘weird.’ Yes, Eddie was unique and full of a million things you weren’t sure fit a narrative of ‘normal,’ but it didn’t mean he was weird. He was just Eddie.

You rounded a small archway that revealed a living room and an older man sitting on the couch watching the tv. His eyes left the screen and met Eddie’s—who was immediately more reserved than he had thought he’d be. He was nervous, suddenly. Standing in your home, with your father in one room and mother in another, with the task of caring for a baby together looming over his head like a cloud. It was ridiculous and confusing but all the same exciting and challenging for him.

“This is, um,” you glanced at Eddie to put him on the spot. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out at first. He was holding the baby like a real baby and moved it to extend his hand to your dad.

“Eddie. Eddie Munson. Thanks for letting us use your house,” he said as cool as he could. Your dad looked at his hand, taking not a second later to grip it strongly and shake it.

You noticed the way Eddie’s eyes lit up at being welcomed. His hesitancy dissipating as your dad asked him a question, yet all you could do was watch him. The feeling was odd. Watching Eddie interact with your father was like watching a significant other be terrified to meet the parents for the first time. It was terrifying how quickly that idea not only came to your mind, but felt normal.

Conversations between the two of you before being assigned partners had been totaled at three.

And now Eddie Munson was talking to your dad about their shared connection to Wayne Munson in the middle of your living room.

And for some reason, the sight of it was something you wouldn’t be mad about becoming a normal occurrence.

“I hear you play D&D?” He asked Eddie who glanced at you, already looking at him, before nodding and turning back to your dad. He hadn’t expected you to have talked about him at all.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You know,” Rising from the couch, “She babysits some kids that play it. They’re quite the rambunctious bunch but have nothing on that… what did you say its name was?” He asked you, but Eddie answered at the same time you did.

“Bilbo.”

He laughed, repeating the name as he turned toward another archway that led to the kitchen and tipped his head in that direction.

“We never had to do a project like that but I think it’ll do you both good.”

Your mom was standing in the kitchen making grilled cheeses and stirring tomato soup on the stove. She turned her head over her shoulder and gave Eddie a smile. He returned it as his eyes flicked all over the space. He took in the pictures on the wall, the types of plates your family used, the way the sink had a window overlooking the backyard and there was a dog outside on a leash laying on the brick patio. Eddie didn’t have this life. He walked to the patio door and looked out at the yard.

“You gotta pretty nice house here, L/n,” he mumbled as you came to stand beside him. His fingers digging into the plush body of Bilbo as a bit of his hardened shell began to tell him he was out of place.

“It’s nice, yeah,” you admitted, “but it’s a carbon copy of all the houses in this neighborhood.”

He hadn’t put two and two together and noticed the layout was similar to Gareth’s down the street.

“You con your parents to be nice to me too?” He glanced at you as if looking for a conspiracy. That somehow, nothing in his life was this easy. That there was a superficial reason talking to you came easy; that there was a mysterious reason your parents accepted him even if he wore a leather jacket and Motörhead t-shirt and a spattering of rings on his fingers. You weren’t necessarily friends in any way, but he felt comfortable. He looked into your eyes and felt secure because of what? Kindness? The noticeable attention of a girl finally making him soft?

“No,” you said honestly, “just told them a bit about who you were. That’s all. Are you going to stay?”

“Stay?”

“I just thought,” you felt your mouth go dry with his question. Perhaps you were being too forward or not thinking clearly because the sight of him being domestic with a doll had awakened a sleeping giant inside of you. His big, brown, cow-like eyes scanned over your face as you stuttered. “I just thought it’d be easier for both of us the longer we did it together.”

“Oh,” was the sound that escaped between his lips and you immediately began retracting your words. Your parents watched the two of you from the other side of the counter with knowing looks in their eyes.

“It’s fine!” You laughed nervously. “You don’t have to stay. I was just shooting the shit; you know? I’m not trying to keep you from your plans or anything… my mom makes a real mean gc and—“

“—I’ll stay.” Eddie cut in and you stopped rambling, letting the words fall from your lips as he nodded. “I want to stay.”

“O-Okay, um,” you looked into those brown eyes a second longer than you should have before peaking past him and to your parents who tried to appear occupied with cooking. “Eddie’s gonna stay for a bit, if that’s fine.”

“Yeah, hun,” your mom kept her back turned to you and stirred the pot. “He’s always welcome.”

Always welcome.

He had to have hit the lottery with this one. A good, pretty partner and a space to escape to that welcomed him without judgement? He was either in the first circle of Hell or ascending to peace yet his feet were planted on the ground—not a foot from your own.

Eddie spent the entire afternoon there. When the sun fell and the moon rose high, you yawned on the floor of your basement and he knew that it was far past a normal time to spend sitting around, laughing and trying to sooth the unexplainable outbursts of Bilbo. His face hurt from the stupid smile that he couldn’t wipe from his face once the two of you had figured out that the doll had sensors under its arms and swaddling helped stop the crying until another unexplained outburst required attention.

When he walked to his van with the doll swaddled in his arms like a real baby, he turned back as he opened the door and shot one last look to the house where you were still standing to bid him goodbye. Eddie didn’t want to leave. He felt his heart squeeze when you gave him a small wave, illuminated by the yellow lighting of the hallway behind you. Shit. He got into the van and sped off before pulling into Gareth’s driveway and pounded on the door.

You shut the front door and with a lock, your dad turned off the tv in the living room before walking into the hallway to meet you there. Both headed to bed, he put an arm around your shoulders and squeezed.

“We gonna talk about that or no?” He asked.

“About what?”

“That!” He laughed as you felt your face heat up. Rising on the Kelvin scale, you felt a spotlight shrink itself onto you. “You gotta little crush there, darlin’ and to be frank, I think he might too.”

“Dad!” You complained, jostling out of his grip and walking more quickly toward your bedroom. “I don’t like Eddie!”

“Yeah, sure you don’t,” he chuckled as you pushed opened your bedroom door and slammed it closed in embarrassment. “But really, you do.”

Eddie pounded on Gareth’s door for three minutes but no one was coming to the door. Desperate, he put his ear to the wood and heard the distinct thumping of drums echoing throughout the house and contemplated for a moment. He could keep knocking and draw the attention of the neighbors and get the cops called on him for suspicious behavior, or, he could go around to the back and knock on Gareth’s window in hopes that it was closer and louder.

He jumped off the stoop and made for the window. Inside, Gareth was head banging as he played Iron Maiden on his drums and had a literal lava lamp reflecting off the symbols. Eddie put his fist to the glass and waited for a break in the beats to thump. Gareth jumped, a scream emitting from his mouth as his sticks went flying across his room and Eddie waved a hand at him from the other side.

“What the fuck, man?” Gareth opened the window and nearly shivered at the cool, October air. “Why are you here? The cops after you?”

“I just spent eight hours in Y/n L/n’s basement taking care of a goddamn baby and eating her mother’s food.”

“Shit,” Gareth laughed, “that sounds like a fuckin’ dream if you ask me.”

“It’s a nightmare, Gareth. A fucking nightmare.”

“Why?” The floppy hair Gareth had been sporting fell into his eyes as they contorted in confusion. “She’s a nice girl. Her old man helps mine when the cars busted.”

“Of course he does!” Eddie pushed off the windowsill and put his hands above his head, breathing in deeply.

“What? He threaten you or something?”

“No, they were,” Eddie’s face scrunched as if it pained him to say the word, “perfect.”

“Then…” Gareth motioned with his hand for Eddie to continue.

“That’s it! They were perfect! She’s perfect, man!” Then, he let a slew of curses leave his mouth and disappear into the night sky. Gareth laughed, letting a long ‘ahhhhh’ direct itself toward the guitarist.

“Eddie Munson,” he leaned into the bedside table by the window, “in love with the girl next door.”

“FUCK!” Eddie yelled with his hands in his hair.

And he still had a week left to take care of Bilbo with you.

Part 2 Here

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things 4 #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x female reader #joseph quinn #stranger things 2

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fan-a-tink · 1 month

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Young Royals Finale reaction

EP6

Can’t believe the episode is 57 minutes long!!! That is such a blessing!!!! 57 MINUTES!!!

Chucking us right back in there… Simon just left that night? Like…?

„And Simon is right. I have to take responsibility for my own problems. I can’t drag him down with me.“ Pfffuuuuuuhhhhhh that hurts… Like I know he is right.. They are both right…

Love that jumper that Simon is wearing

Seeing Sara and Simon be friends again is so so soooooo healing for my soul.

I love that pep talk that Sara gives Simon about their dad. And maybe the second chance will also apply to Simon’s relationship with Wille?

That poem is by Karin Boye - that’s the one Lisa posted with the trailer....!

Is this the first time Wille and Sara actually spoke to one another? Season 3, episode 6? 😅

So Hillerska is closing down. Even though it shouldn’t be, that is still a shock! But a good one! I love that as a resolution for everything

August having a breakdown in front of everyone after calling them to reason. He is like the only one who can’t stand the discord. And I love him for it

„But everything around here still reminds me of him.“ AAASDIH OIFHAIEFH ASDFV SDF

I’m sorry, but everyone calls their parents or talks to their best friends. Only Wille’s fucking parents don’t bother calling their son. He speaks to fucking Farima again! (Sorry, I love farima, I’m just sooooo over Wille’s parents being shit parents)

Wille looking at Simon through the bookshelves before going up to him… 💜💜💜💜

It breaks my heart that they can’t even say how they feel, they are so broken by this breakup.. But also weirdly, this also feels like one of the first really honest conversations they have

Henry interrupting them is soo funny…. He just has noooo radar :)))

„We could stay here and feel like crap together“ 😂

HE CALLED SIMON THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE!!!!!!!!! I mean, we all knew that, but still - THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE!!!!!!!

Love that Felice called him ‚Party Prince‘ :))) also, it feels like Felice has her personality back :)) Nice to see the real Felice again :)))

Simon lying on the football field and playing with the fake sand…. My heeeaaaaarrrtttt!!!!!

Lol Simon did you really think you got closure? From what?

REVOLUTION IS PLAYING!!!!!

„Erik would’ve loved you no matter what“ - this is the moment where I start crying.

This is such a good apology, August.. And Malte is giving it everything… I love this scene. This is so so so important… Also, I’m crying now, and I probably won’t stop now that I’ve started..

„Yes, I have feelings for August. But I have stronger and more important feelings for you. And for Simon, and for myself.“ As an aroace person, this made my heart sing. FRIENDSHIP!!!!! PREACH!!!

„That was the best day of my life.“ Oh Saraaa….. I love you… I know you and Felice will be fine.. You will be fine, I can feel it!!

Nils officially coming out to Vincent and August 🏳️‍🌈 love it :) even Vincent has a good side, hidden somewhere very deep deep down, but it is there :)

„I see you, but I don’t think you see me. You’re in love with the person you become with me.“ She is soooo right. So right. And it breaks my heart that they won’t be together, but…. She is so right about this

Malte, you are such an incredible actor - how have we all not seen this before?!?!?!?!?!

„It’ll pass“ - that is such an iconic line that I will forgive you for stealing it from fleabag :))

It’s so brave of Simon to go up to Wille.

I cannot even begin to write down my feelings about the next few scenes. I was crying the whole time, shaking, sobbing, all over the place. They are sooo beautiful. The way they look at each other. Cherishing the moment. AND WHEN WILLE STARTED SINGING ‚IT TAKES A FOOL TO REMAIN SANE‘ ökdfn oäwiAFGBNÖOUERBGTÖAOIRBSYDÖFGOXVABN I can’t watch this be the end of them. I can’t.

Also, the song Alice is beautiful for all of this. Poetic cinema.

Frederika & stella :)

WHEN IS THAT SONG GOING TO BE ON SPOTIFY? I WANT TO LISTEN TO THIS FOREVER AND EVER AND EVER.

I love the slight change of the lyrics too.. „Cause we were a revolution“ from „I can be your revolution.“

Wille is looking at August like he has a plan. I SMELL AN ABDICATION :)))

And they sing Simon’s Song? This is toooo much!!!!! I love it!!!! But also why did no one tell Simon about that?

The way they fade that song over the next few scenes… Have I already mentioned that I am crying my eyes out?

So, the queen had a serious health concern. And now she is just fine? She has sought out therapy for like one day and apologizes to her son? Like, how does that work so quickly?

But also, I love it. Wille deserves parents who are there for him.

Wille, what are you thinking? What are you going to doooooo???? Abdication is coming, I can feel it…!!!

Why are they having a conversation about how it was in vain, or not? This is not going in the right direction.

„I never gave up on you. I gave up on the royal family.“ - Wille, your path is clear!!!!! You HAVE to take it!!!

Goodbye? Nooo? Why???? „I hope you have a nice summer.“ What the fuck? That is not the throwback I needed? Hello? Why are you walking away? Noooo, come back!!!! Simooooooon!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAHHHH!!

„They were friends who threw money at the problem instead of listening.“ THANK YOU!!

Just ride off into the sunset together, you two 💜

The Queen saying she’s proud of Wille is such an empty thing.

He is fumbling his collar. He is getting out of that car.

„One day you will be a fantastic king.“ - Say it! Say it, Wille!! SAY IT!!!!!!!!!!!!

„What happens if I don’t want to?“ YEEEEEEESSSSS, REVOLUTION BABY!!!!!!

This is the growth that Edvin talked about. Talking about his issues calmly, productively. Putting it simply. Being heard. Understood. He is fucking abdicating here and it is working. I LOVE IT!

„The thing with Simon“ - the disrespect!!!! I am done with this woman. He is the love of his life, ok?

„I don’t want this.“ - The smile when he says this.. 🥰 The first signs of the actual Wille coming out from all that pressure

The harmony theme starting to play as he leaves the car and the monarchy behind This is so freaking good!!!!! I freaking love this show

Haha, Simon waiting a minute before having Sara stop the car… Let him run :))

The music. The sunshine. The full trees. The fucking smiles on both of their faces. Fucking finally.

„For my own sake. … I want to be with you, Simon.“

The cheeky smile on Simon’s face just before he says, „what the hell do you think?“ nsyöljdnföojansAKENF KASJDNF LKJANSD

THEY ARE SMILING!!!! THEY ARE HUGGING!!! THEY ARE BOYFRIENDS!!!! THEY ARE ENDGAME!!!!!

I WILL NEVER EVER RECOVER FROM THIS HAPPINESS - THESE TWOOOOOOOOOO 💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

THE MONTAGE…. 💜💜💜💜💜

THE WAY THE CUDDLE IN THE CAR - I AM FALLING IN LOVE WITH THEM ALL OVER AGAIN 💜💜💜💜💜

Also, I am in tears. Sobbing, shaking, laughing, crying. Truly, I have felt all the emotions this episode. I freaking love this show.

#young royals #young royals season 3 #young royals season 3 spoilers #young royals s3 spoilers #yr s3 spoilers #yr season 3 spoilers

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

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(If you're still accepting blurbs !)

‘I was looking forward to seeing you all week.’

You're just starting to go to the beach (for 2 weekends now) and it's usually the same day the Dagger squad plays dogfight football. You and Rooster been secretly yearning for each other and at this point you've given up using this time to read (just using the book and sunglasses to hide that you're thirsting all over him 😶‍🌫️). Rooster caves and sweeps you off your feet and (๑>◡<๑) ！！！！

you have your sunglasses high up on your nose, not chancing any of the sweaty, oily men playing a strange game of football seeing you practically eye-fucking them.

this is the third weekend you've come to the beach at the same time as them. the first two were total accidents--they just happened to be there at the same time you decided to set up a little reading nook in the sand.

but now? oh, you're absolutely here at the same time as them on purpose.

there's one in particular, one with a ridiculous mustache and ridiculous tan skin and ridiculous muscles, who's caught your eye. there's a distinct feeling in your gut when he looks in your direction--a jolt of something between excitement and fear. it makes you feel like electricity is coursing through your veins.

but right now, as you're "reading" your book, you're trying to hide the disappointment in your gut. you've timed your glances perfectly, making sure no one can see you, and you haven't seen your man.

what a waste, you think. now I'm actually gonna have to read Animal by Lisa Taddeo.

you sink back into the towel you're on, soaking up the hot sun as perspiration gathers on your hairline.

as you stifle a frown, you try to read a sentence, a pit of frustration growing in your belly.

but then the sun disappears.

brows knit, you look up, sunglasses falling low on your nose. and then he's here, standing just before you, grinning down at you. he has on the sweetest denim cut-offs you've ever seen and ark aviators--and that's all.

"hey," he says with a grin like the two of you are old friends. "I've been looking forward to seeing you all week."

you almost choke out a desperate me!? but then you think better of it. you let the book fall closed, push your sunglasses up on your head, and give him a sweet smile.

there's that familiar jolt in your gut--right on time as he digs his toes in the sand and awaits the sound of your voice.

"did I look like I needed some shade?" you ask.

"you were looking awfully hot," Rooster says with a a flush across his chest.

"you the protector of the beachgoer's then?" you ask, biting your lip.

he nods.

"well, as a Navyman, I take it upon myself to do my part," he says with a hand over his heart. "wouldn't want anyone getting burned. not on my watch!"

"ahh," you say softly, trying to keep your heart regular. "I'm feeling a bit special that I was chosen out of everyone here."

Bradley shrugs, still beaming at you.

"I can only do so much."

honestly, he noticed you the very first time you came to the beach. it may have caused him a football to the gut and a roll around the sand with Coyote, but he just couldn't get himself to tear his eyes away from you. he absolutely had to see what book you were reading, which he may or may not have read reviews for--strictly to get a feel of what you must be interested in. and he would be remiss if he didn't catch those little stolen glances.

"well, thank you for your service," you tease with a mock salute. "how can I ever repay you? apple pie? white bread?"

he laughs--a big and booming thing.

"how about your name?" he asks.

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isak-og-even · 1 month

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That last scene, showing us and showing them how far they've come. I'm blown away. This show has been the most beautiful time, from the first time I've watched all of season 1 in one night to tonight, finally finding the time to watch the final episode.

There are so many things that I think they have done right, but one of them - and perhaps the most important one - is that, in the end, Wille decides to abdicate for his own sake and not for Simon's. Yes, he says he abdicates because he wants to be with Simon, but I think what weighs more heavily is how he has realised that playing a role for the rest of his life, standing in the public eye, is not what he sees for himself (how Simon reminds him of the metal football players!). Wille has slowly started calling everyone out on being fake, has tried to be more honest and open himself. And Simon helped him in this - he was his revolution. And Wille was Simon's - about second chances, about what really counts, forgiveness.

Talking of forgiveness: the way August apologised to Wille, and not just in one sentence but in a detailed way, really acknowleding everything that had gone wrong. And it's in that moment where they are similar, both hiding from the crowd, looking for some calm inside the storm. And I do think Wille starts to forgive him. And then August sees Wille run away and he knows it's his turn. and he accepts. (Love how his friends told him being king is not all fun!)

The Queen finally apologising to Wilhelm! Telling him she'll be there for him, trying to be a better mum, then letting him finish what he wants to say - and finally telling the guards to "let him go". Yes. They're all on their way.

and what a road trip for Felice, Sara, Simon, and Wille.

just. tusen takk. to Lisa, Edvin, Omar, Nikita, Frida, Malte, everyone.

#they own my heart #young royals #young royals season 3 #yr s3 spoilers #spoilers #wilmon #my thoughts #tankene

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kayhi808 · 3 months

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Collision

I feel the sweat trickling down between my shoulder blades, as the sun beats down on me as I round the bend by the reservoir. I concentrate on the rhythm of my shoes hitting the path & not how fast my heart is beating. Just let me get through this final lap & I'll head home. This summer has got to be one of the hottest I've spent in the city. I never get tired of the beauty of Central Park. The people enjoy the little bit of nature that they can, in this crazy city. The families enjoying picnics in the park. The dog walkers with their army of canines.

Of course, my day must be ruined by the meatheads playing football near the jog path. I'm thrown forward by the force of whoever plowed into me. The hit alone left me breathless; it doubled as I hit the ground trying to break my fall with my hands. The sting of my palms scraping against the ground made me collapse completely, hitting my chin.

"Oh, shit!"

"Fuck, I'm so sorry!"

I roll over, throwing my arm across my eyes to block the sun & to hide the tears that are already falling from the 2 idiots above me .

"Sweetheart, don't move." A third voice joins in to witness my humiliation. Feeling a gentle hand on my shoulder, which only makes me want to cry harder. His deep calming voice makes me take a deep breath, trying to get myself under control.

Muttering a soft, "Assholes" I move my arm & stare up at the hottest guy I've ever seen. Dark windblown hair, brows furrowed with concern, pouty lips turned down in a frown. Fuck my life. Sitting up, I flinch at the sting from my hands.

"Easy," his arm wraps around me helping me ease up. I assess the damage. My palms and arms are bloody & dirty but I'm able to move my fingers & wrists, nothing broken.

A woman with her daughter runs up to the semi-circle of stupid men surrounding me. "Frank! What did you guys do?" She shoves one of the meaner looking guys out of the way. I'm amazed at how the others all back out of her way. "Aw, Honey!" She gently takes my wrists in her hands & tilts my head up to look at the scratch on my chin; her daughter starts pulling grass & twigs out of my hair. Great! My eyes dart quickly to the handsome guy, and I feel my cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"We can take you to emergency. I'll take care of the expense," Bill offers.

"I...I'm fine. I don't need to see a doctor. Nothing's broken. I'm scratched up is all."

"We have a first-aid kit, let us get you cleaned up, at least," she gives me a gentle smile. "I'm Maria. My daughter, Lisa." Lisa gently pats my head as she continues to pull grass & leaves out of my hair. "That's Billy."

I give them my name & Billy squeezes my elbows as he lifts me to my feet. "We're really sorry about this."

*****

She called us assholes. I want to smile at that, but we really did a number on her. She's banged up but she could have seriously been hurt. I walk her over to our picnic area and sit her at the picnic table.

Maria is in mama bear mode grabbing the first aid kit & getting her some water. Curtis makes his way over to us and I whisper down to her, "This is Curtis, he was a medic, so he'll be able to fix you right up." She gives me a shy smile. "Hey man, we had a football accident. Could you give us a hand?"

"Jesus, Bill. You could have simply asked the girl out, you didn't need to tackle her."

*****

Knowing it was the other 2 guys that knocked me down, I'm surprised with Bill's reply. "She was running too fast. I couldn't let her to get away."

Curtis cleans up my chin, which didn't hurt too badly. I watch him frown as he examines my hands. He shakes his head, "This is going to sting, but it really needs to be cleaned." I cringe inside, but I know, so I nod in understanding. Bill straddles the bench behind me, angling so I face Curtis & pulls me back against him. He rubs his palms from my shoulder to elbows trying to soothe me. Yet I still hiss & jerk my arm back, elbowing Billy in the ribs.

"I'm so sorry! I'm..." Turning to look up at Billy.

"It's ok. I know it hurts."

Now that I knew what to expect, I let Curtis clean & bandage me up without pulling away. I made it through with a soft chant of "shitshitshithshit." I relax back against Billy once my hands are bandaged and his velvety voice is in my ear, "You did so well, sweetheart."

I softly gasp & break into goose bumps at his whispered praise. I hear his chuckle as he rubs my arms warming my skin to make the bumps disappear. I quickly stand to move to Curtis, "Th...thank you so much for tending to me."

"You're welcome. Keep it clean & keep an eye out for infection. If it gets red or warm to the touch, see your doctor." You nod again.

"How were you getting home?" Bill follows me.

"I'll just walk home. I usually use it as a cool-down."

Bill's shaking his head before I can finish my sentence. "Let me drive you home."

"I don't know you. You told Curtis you knocked me over so I couldn't escape you. No thank you." Bill let out a laugh that makes me smile. "Seriously, I'll be fine."

"You can't even use your hands. Look, here's my card." Bill fishes out his wallet & gives you his business card. "I have a car service. I can have a driver take you home, and you have all my info there, you can send it to your...boyfriend?" Narrowing my eyes at him which only makes him smile bigger.

"Friends."

"Or friends. Family. Whoever. You'll be safe."

Eventually, I give in because I really don't want to make that trek home. My adrenaline is waning & my muscles start to ache.

He calls his service and waits with me until a car pulls up and he settles me in the backseat & closes the door. He gives me a short wave & returns to his friends as the car pulls away from the curb. I give the driver my address and settle into the soft leather seats. I pull out his card; Bill Russo, Owner & CEO of ANVIL. Thick cardstock. Expensive. Impressive.

@imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @e-dubbc11

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine

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e-dubbc11 · 4 months

Note

Be careful what you wish for…

Here I am, wondering…what were little Raven’s favorite things about thanksgiving? I really love that Billy is getting another chance at a loving family with his wife & baby. They have lots to be grateful for. 🥰

Well, I know it’s way past thanksgiving but this was so much fun to think about. It started out as a bunch of headcanons but sort of morphed into a little ficlet. I hope you like it and thank you for sending this in! ♥️

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Tattoo artist Billy Russo x F! Reader with their little Anna Raven.

• Anna Raven goes to daycare a few days a week and I remember when my little miss was in daycare and holidays would come around, her teachers would always have them make little art projects to go along with those holidays. So of course, the hand turkey is always a popular art project for little ones and little Raven would be SO happy and excited to give that to her parents. Billy may even take it to the studio to hang on the wall or put on his desk.

• A smile stretches across Billy and Reader’s face when they tell little Raven that you can make pie out of a pumpkin. The confusion in her narrowed eyes going from a pumpkin on the table to the pie that just came out of the oven. Watching her work that out in her little mind would definitely makes her parents chuckle.

• I can see her wanting to toss around the football with her Dad, Uncle Frankie, Lisa and Junior even though she’s still a little too young for it but they include her anyway. Anna holding the football while her Uncle picks her up and runs past everyone for a “touchdown.”

• And maybe she’s not quite steady on her feet to run and hold a big football at the same time so she stumbles and falls, her face hits the ground and when she sits up, one of the leaves that has fallen from the tree above is stuck to her cheek. They rush to her side to see if she’s ok but she’s a tough cookie, she doesn’t cry easily but has two tough marines wrapped around her little finger, fawning all over her and making sure she’s ok.

• I can picture Billy slinking around the kitchen with Anna on his hip while dinner is being cooked to see what he can taste. “Billy Russo, you put that pumpkin pie bar down right now!” You playfully shout at Billy while he holds little Raven in front of his face. “The baby wanted to taste it.” He says as Anna licks the pumpkin off of her chubby little fingers. You try to bite back a smile but it doesn’t do any good; little Raven’s eyes are wide like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. “Don’t use the baby as a cover for your sweet tooth, lieutenant.” You say pointing your finger at him, trying your best to not let that perfect smile of his get to you but it always does.

• Watching Anna’s face as she struggles to eat a green bean, her eyebrows pulled together while trying to chew it enough to be able to swallow. “Those are good for you, little Raven. They make you strong.” Frank says, popping one in his mouth. Anna hands her Uncle the rest of her green bean as if to say “Ok, well you eat it then if you like them so much.”

• During dinner, Billy leans in slowly to kiss your temple. He whispers in your ear how thankful he is for you, how much he loves you, and how much he loves Anna. Side note: I want to get back to these two as a couple. I love their little family but I think they’re due for some alone smexy time, what do ya think?

• Everyone is very amused watching little Raven eat her dinner. Mashed potatoes smeared across her face, her lips puckering when she tastes cranberry sauce, biting into a dinner roll and saying, “You a good cook, Mommy.” You let out a laugh, shake your head and thank her for the compliment. “Well, thank you very much, Miss. Don’t forget to tell Auntie Maria she’s a good cook too, she helped me put those rolls in the oven.”

• After everyone has finished eating, you all move into the living room to relax on the couch or a comfortable chair. Football is on the tv. Frank and Billy are on opposite ends of the couch with little Raven going back and forth between them before her eyes start to get heavy and she crawls into Billy’s lap and rests her little head against his chest. She tries to fight sleep but she doesn’t last very long before she’s out like a light up against her dad with her wild dark brown hair tickling his nose.

• Looking around the room, they appear to all be asleep except for you and Billy. “You and Maria really nailed dinner, my love.” He whispered. “Thank you, handsome.” You whispered back. “The little miss stole my spot.” You said with a warm smile. A slightly wicked smile stretched across his lips. “Ah, your spot is a little further south, sweet girl.” He said with a wink in a low sexy voice. You could feel the warmth rise to your cheeks “Bill, what have I told you about poisoning my goddaughter’s ears with your filth?” Frank interrupted and you let out a soft laugh. “She’s still asleep, Frankie. Relax.” Said Billy.

• With the lights dimmed low, you all sit around the coffee table, eating desserts while trying to keep quiet as Anna is still fast asleep on the couch. Pillows surround her so she won’t fall off. Noise doesn’t bother her either; she could sleep through anything. You and Billy enjoy the rest of your Thanksgiving with the Castle’s; they are more than just good friends…they are family.

• Billy brushes the top of your hand, the one with the rose tattoo, with his long slender fingers, kisses your forehead, and whispers in your ear the things he wants to do to you when you get home. He always knows how to make you blush. “Are we keeping little Raven for the night? You two look like you could use some alone time.” Maria said with a kind smile. “You wouldn’t mind?” You ask. Frank glanced down at a sleeping Anna and said, “Nah, we don’t mind. But when you come back tomorrow, you’re makin’ me some of those Thanksgiving leftover eggrolls, y/n. Yeah?” You smile at Billy, gaze into his endless brown eyes and lean in to give him a gentle kiss. His beard tickles your chin as you pull away and reply, “It’s a deal, Frank…and thank you for taking care of her tonight.”

• Frank gazes at Maria, then down at his own children and back to little Raven. “Anything for family, kid.”

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialams @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #tattoo artist billy russo #billy russo au #billy russo x y/n #billy russo x you #the sweetest pain

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mcytcares · 10 months

Note

Helloo, just found your blog and the writing is really great, I love blogs that write platonic x readers :'D

Could I request maybe a Karlnapity x child reader (not modern AU or anything, just normal DSMP)?

Take care of yourself and take your time <3

so sorry for posting once in a blue moon </3 im starting to get back into writing so here you go anon!

KARLNAPITY AND CHILD READER

Type - Headcanon

Familial

Dream SMP

Note - This involves the DSMP characters only. Also this is written with a gender neutral reader in mind :]

Warnings - N/A

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Fun dads! Karl is definitely the softest for you while Sapnap is the most attentive.

Karl is very playful and gets you all sorts of toys. He encourages you to play outside and just enjoy your time, leading you on tame explorations around Kinoko. He forages with you and helps you identify different kinds of mushrooms and plants.

Karl occasionally tells stories of times long past with foggy eyes and an odd tone.

He makes soup with you and makes you breakfast. He's not the best cook in the house but he does make good mushroom soup.

Sapnap likes to play rough, encouraging games involving sports or physical activity of any kind. You wanna play knights? He makes you a cardboard sword to swing around (no matter if you're a knight or princess), and he's the big bad dragon you've gotta defeat! He enjoys picking you up and swinging you around– of course he's never too rough but he tends to throw you around a bit.

He also likes lots of sports– soccer, basketball, football, etc. If you're an active kid, he'll play whatever you want all day.

Sapnap also makes sure you can defend yourself, and teaches you how to fight against mobs. He always keeps a watchful eye on you whenever you're out and about, but he knows you can handle yourself when night falls.

Quackity can be distant and quiet at times, but when he's around he showers you with gifts and praise. He gives you toys, expensive clothing, trinkets– basically whatever you want, he'll get.

He also tells you stories and brings back souvenirs whenever he goes to Las Nevadas. He often reads from books but also talks of his colleagues and any humorous incidents that have happened to him.

His softer side comes out in these moments– he loves making you laugh, seeing your face light up makes his whole week.

Quackity is banned from the kitchen, thus your days with him are spent going out and shopping or meeting up with Quackity's friends. He spoils you with anything you have your eye on, even if you don't ask for anything.

If you're more creative than active, Quackity gets you lots of books for you to read, on whatever subject you like. Space? Dinosaurs? Nature? He can get those. Fiction books, fantasy, horror? Sure!

Karl will gladly color or draw with you, taking great delight when you show him your drawings and making a big show of it.

"Oh, what's this?? Oh, [Name], this is amazing! Literally, like, Mona Lisa quality, what the heck! I'm putting this up on the fridge!"

Every drawing is posted on the fridge with little magnets, proudly displaying your creativity. Sapnap and Quackity both compliment your skills, Sapnap ruffling your hair or giving you a noogie.

"Look at our little artist!"

"Woah, the world's gotta watch out. We've got a master in the works."

Days where the whole family is together can be chaotic. Dinners are lively and you get a lot of attention. Sapnap is the main cook of the household, and food cooked by him is full of love for his family. If you're a picky eater, he caters to your needs, but encourages you to branch out if you ever want to.

If you fall ill, they're all there to support you. Sapnap tends to you at every complaint (albeit telling you not to be so dramatic), Karl makes you some soup, and Quackity gets your medicine.

Nightmares are similar-- Sapnap and Quackity both advise you to fight back against whatever scary monster is in your dreams. Quackity tries to comfort you by telling you it's not real, or by reading you a story. Karl offers to sit and listen if you want to talk about it, and gives nice, warm hugs.

#karlnapity #karl jacobs #quackity #sapnap #familial #headcanon #anonymous #fluff #dsmp #child reader #dsmp x reader #dream smp x reader #familial x reader #karlnapity x reader

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callsign-phoenix · 1 year

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I wrote this as a part of my advent calendar fics, I hope you like it!

It is a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x gn!reader imagine.

Thank you @marvelandotherfandomimagines for proofreading!

Day 20: meeting the family

Warnings: none

To be honest you had doubts about meeting your boyfriend’s family.

It wasn’t that you were scared that they were mean or anything.

But Jake was such a perfect specimen that you felt like every one of them had to be an overachiever, and there were at least six of them.

Jake’s mother seemed normal enough from what he had told you while his father was a politician, aspiring to climb higher and higher on that ladder of opportunity.

Jake had an older sister, Lisa Anne, who was expecting her first child with her husband while being one of the top partners at a law firm, Jake’s younger sister Anne graduated top of her class and studied medicine in some prestigious college.

The youngest Seresin, Thomas, was a gifted football player and aimed for a career in the field.

Every one of the Seresins had a list of accomplishments that far exceeded anyone you had ever met.

You had told Jake that you were nervous to meet them but Jake had only laughed it off, telling you that you had nothing to worry about.

You didn’t quite believe him, so when Jake asked if you wanted to meet his family for the first time around Christmas time you reluctantly agreed to it.

Jake drove the two of you to a small town near Beaumont, where the Seresins had been born and raised.

As expected the outside of the house looked as meticulous as you had imagined, the perfect American family house with the perfect Christmas decorations put up.

It wasn’t too much or too little, just the perfect amount, and you looked over the clothes you had chosen for the event to see if you had chosen well.

“You look great, baby, don’t worry,” Jake said softly as he moved to hold you closer, wrapping his arm around your waist as he rang the bell.

You held your breath as you waited for the door to open and let out the air you were holding when an older, small woman with a Christmas sweater stood in front of you.

“Oh darling, how we’ve missed you,” the woman said as she made her way to embrace her son, a wide smile on her face as her arms wrapped around his middle.

You smiled too as you watched their loving exchange, before the woman turned to look at you.

“Love, it’s so good to finally meet you! My name’s Cecily, but most people call me Celia,” she smiled as she moved in to give you a hug that was at least as welcoming as the one her son had gotten, shocking you with how welcoming she was.

“I’ve heard so much about you, dear, you’ll have to tell me more,” she smiled, taking your forearm gently but determinedly as she pulled you along into the house.

“Don’t be shy, we’ll all get along so well, I know it! Jake can take care of the bags, he knows where to go,” she went on, she looked excited as she accompanied you into the living room.

“Frank, darling, they’re here,” she shouted, and a tall, broad man appeared in the doorway.

You slowly realized that the Seresin family looked very similar, the two sons looked almost exactly like their father, and the daughters took after their mom.

Frank Seresin looked like a politician, he was wearing a pullover above a checked dress shirt and khakis.

“Good to meet you,” he said as he reached out his hand to shake yours instinctively, greeting you as if you were someone he’d undergo a business deal with instead of his son’s significant other.

Celia made sure you were well taken care of and Frank engaged you in a conversation about politics, the main field of his interest and expertise as you realized.

Jake hurried to join you to be by your side and after a while he stole you away to show you his room, even if it was just to get some peace and quiet without his parents in the same room.

“Your parents are amazing,” you said softly and Jake chuckled, holding you close on his childhood bed to relax a bit.

“They’re a handful though,” he chuckled, and you smiled as well.

You were about to say something else when you heard his mom yell from downstairs.

“Loves, I’d like you to help with this batch of Christmas cookies I’m making!”

While you were happy that his family was so accepting you slowly realized that you’d have to come up with a lot of energy over the course of the next few days.

tagging: @wildbornsiren @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @hederasgarden @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @softromantist @malindacath @oliviah-25 @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @glowingtree @natasharomanoffisbaebby @luckyladycreator2 @blue-aconite @tipsykeen @airedale17 @iangiemae @dempy @princessofglitterland @teti-menchon0604 @butaneandthebeast @katesmadness @call-sign-hurricane @kajjaka @kkrenae @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @starkleila

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin x you #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #hangman top gun #top gun hangman

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1lostsoul0fishbowl · 6 months

Text

Time for some Grant (Freak) and Jeff headcanons!

I’ve been neglecting these sweet boys lately so here’s a few random tidbits I came up with for them…

Full name: Grant Raymond Alexander

Has four little sisters…

Lisa— same age as the Party. Doesn’t run in the same circles as them, because she’s a cheerleader and plays softball, but Grant asked her to kind of watch over El in school so Lisa made a point to befriend her.

Ida— same age as Erica Sinclair and they are sassy besties. Erica is constantly trying to get her to join Hellfire, but Ida doesn’t want to admit to Grant that she thinks something he likes is actually cool.

Annie— a couple years younger than Ida and Erica. She’s a shy little bookworm and often gets kind of lost in the shuffle of her big family.

Beth— same age as Holly Wheeler, they’re also besties. They terrorize Eddie on a regular basis by demanding he play beauty parlor with them and let them “style” his hair.

Grant’s dad owns some stuffy corporate accounting firm and he expects Grant to follow in his footsteps and join the family business. Grant is studying accounting at college, but he hates it and dreams of being a rock star or a pastry chef— or both! He wants to create beautiful things. (Full credit for the pastry chef idea goes to @moonchildreads - we ❤️ Donny!)

His dad also is the director of the church choir. Grant likes being in the choir but after spring break ‘86 he started enjoying church itself a lot less. He’s thinking of quitting but doesn’t want to disappoint his father.

Grant goes to the local community college because he wanted to stay close to home to help take care of his sisters— he didn’t think all the babysitting, cooking, etc should fall to Lisa just because she’s a girl.

Just because he’s chubby doesn’t mean he’s slow. Grant is super strong and agile. He played football during his freshman and sophomore years, but HATED the toxic attitude of the jocks and the constant pressure from the coach. When he didn’t come back to the team junior year, most of them viewed it as a betrayal. But they can’t bully him because he’s bigger and stronger than all of them.

Full name: Jeffrey Dean Collins

Middle kid of three, all brothers…

Julian— two years older. Star athlete who now coaches football at one of the state colleges.

Jonathan— two years younger. Total math and science nerd. Dustin calls him the smartest kid in the school (and is totally jealous of that fact).

Jeff is majoring in education, and his first year in college he did a minor in some music related field (producing or sound or something). He wants to be a music teacher. Initially he was thinking he could use what he learned to help corroded coffin make it big, but heard enough horror stories about trying to get into the music biz that he decided teaching would be just fine with him.

Jeff loves his brothers, but they’re all so different he feels like he has nothing in common with either of them. He also feels like the “underachiever” of the family since his talent isn’t in a school-related thing like sports or science.

However, Jeff does get along GREAT with his mom. Sometimes he feels like she’s the only person in his family he can actually talk to. They have the same wildly eclectic taste in music, both of them love reading, and she understands his moods better than anyone.

When Jeff and Eddie first decided to start Corroded Coffin, his dad and his brothers didn’t get it and were a little mean about it. “Why do you wanna play loud angry white music with that trailer trash boy”, etc etc. But his mom saw in Eddie the same thing she’d always seen in Jeff, that they were outsiders just looking for a place to fit in and a group to belong to, and she defended him. She informed the rest of the family that Jeff could make any kind of music he wanted, with any kind of people he wanted, as long as it made him happy. Eventually the rest of the Collins fam came around, and Jon even asked Jeff to teach him to play guitar.

If you have any headcanons for them you want to share with me, please feel free!!!

#jeff stranger things #grant stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things #corroded coffin #losty headcanons

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ellieaka · 1 month

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Unpopular opinion: I have realized I overestimated Lisa's ability of script writing the day season 2 aired. The unmatched high quality of season 1 can be attributed a lot to edmar's chemistry and the directors on site. Remember, Edvin and Rojda basically improvised the most famous lines in the whole series, the football scene. I was sooooo disappointed when season 2 came out because it was so messy and poorly paced, and contained so many filler plots that I don't think is necessary at all. I had such a bad feeling when Lisa was announced to also be the producer for season 3. So I came into season 3 with very very low expectations but it turn out ok, at least I don't have to watch 2 hours of Sargust making out and Marcus being annoying so I'm not really disappointed lol.

I have came to accept the fact the the majority of TV series only get worse season after season, and the first season usually has the highest quality of all. So to speak, I believe in the death of the author, and the moment I finished season 1 wilmon is mine and mine alone. No matter what the ending turn out to be, I think I'm mentally prepared.

#young royals #young royals season 2 #young royals season 3

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