#Jeff shouts at his Grandma | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munson-blurbs · 1 year

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2

Summary: You're determined to figure out why Eddie hates you, and he's more determined to avoid you at any cost. But confrontations with Jeff and Wayne may have him reconsidering all of his choices--including the one to become a father. How long can he run from his demons before they catch up to him?

Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, mentions of drug dealing, mentions of Eddie's dad, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 5.9k

Chapter 2/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

“He called you what?” Jess screeches, and you have to pull the receiver from your ear to avoid losing your hearing. “Oh, he’s a dead man.”

You place the phone back between your shoulder and cheek so you can stir the pot of marinara sauce while talking to your friend. She’d called to ask about your first day of work, and of course you’d mentioned Eddie’s frigid bitch comment. “I shouldn’t have expected anything less from a grown man who promises to call and then basically drops off the face of the Earth,” you say, trying to keep your anger at bay. There’s murmuring in the background coming from a voice deeper than Jess’s. “Do you have company? Because we can talk later–”

“Nah, I’m just at Viv and Jeff’s place.” Before you can tell her not to say anything, you hear her spreading the news to her sister and future brother-in-law. The girl’s a sweetheart, but she spreads news faster than the New York Times.

There’s the sound of shuffling and the phone being exchanged between parties, followed by Jeff saying, “Please tell me that you’re joking.”

“About being called a frigid bitch? I’m afraid not,” you confirm with a terse chuckle, draining a pot of spaghetti into the colander. “But, honestly, it’s really not a big deal. I’ve been called worse.”

Jeff’s quiet for a moment before he replies. “He’s such an asshole. Christ.” You detect a note of sadness in his tone, almost grief, like he’s mourning someone he thought he knew.

“Look, I shouldn’t have called him out on that stupid Cat and Mouse thing,” you say. “I should’ve just let it go, put a smile on my face, and acted civilly. I only said it to piss him off, and it worked.”

“No, this is more than you,” Jeff protests, letting out an exasperated sigh. “He never used to be like this. He used to actually be a great guy.” It sounds like he has more to say, but he just blurts out, “I gotta go,” and quickly hands the phone back to Jess.

The two of you talk for a few more minutes until the sauce on the stove starts to bubble, indicating that dinner’s ready.

“Grandma,” you call out, “it’s dinnertime!”

Your grandma pads out of her bedroom, hair disheveled even though you’d just combed through it this morning, and wrinkles her nose. “Not hungry,” she mutters, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, you gotta eat so you can take your medicine,” you tell her, keeping your tone even and patient, “otherwise, you’ll feel sick. C’mon, you love pasta.”

“I don’t have to take any goddamn medicine,” she snaps, scowling at the three pills at her table setting. “These aren’t even mine.”

Well, then, whose are they? Do you think I robbed a Rite Aid? You want to snap, but you bite back the retort. “Yes, Grandma, they are. This one,” you point to a small, white pill, “is for your blood pressure. And this one,” you point to a larger yellow one, “is your multivitamin, and this little yellow one is for, um…” you hesitate, “for Alzheimer's.”

“I don’t have Alzheimer’s!” Grandma shouts, swiping the pills to the ground. They fall with a clatter, bouncing underneath the table. “And I’m not eating shit.” She storms off to her room, muttering a slew of swear words under her breath.

You take a deep breath, feeling the oxygen fill your lungs. This isn’t the first time she’s had an outburst like this, and you know to just leave dinner on the stove, and she’ll come and eat in a few minutes when she forgets that she’s “not hungry.” In the meantime, you pick up the fallen medication and place them back on her napkin before digging into your own bowl of spaghetti.

Sure enough, she joins you about fifteen minutes later, exclaiming that “something smells good,” and eating her dinner happily. She only asks you twice where you’re from and when you’re leaving, but your heart still sinks with each question. The grandma who never missed a birthday and brought your favorite candy when she visited had all but been erased by a vicious disease. All you can do now is keep her safe and enjoy the brief moments when she’s smiling.

There’s only silence when Eddie shows up at Gareth’s house after dropping Harris at Wayne’s trailer. He’s usually greeted by the sound of everyone warming up and tuning their instruments. For a second, he thinks that he has the wrong night, or he forgot that they canceled practice, but he finds the guys sitting in Gareth’s garage. They all look up guiltily when they hear him walk in.

“Who died?” Eddie asks with a nervous laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “Seriously, guys, what’s going on?”

Gareth bites his lip, wordlessly turning to Jeff. Eddie stiffens a bit at the silent shift to Jeff’s newfound leadership. Since when does Gareth look to Jeff to speak up?

“Ed, we need to talk with you,” Jeff says, sitting up a bit taller. “We, uh, we think Corroded Coffin needs a bit of hiatus.”

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and gives a disbelieving snort. “Oookay,” he says sardonically. “And why are you telling me that we should break up the band I founded?” He walks closer to his bandmates, challenging them with the fury behind his eyes.

“It’s not fun for us anymore, man,” Danny admits. “This is supposed to be something we do to relax, blow off some steam and get a break from the real world. But lately, it’s been more of a chore.”

“A chore?” Eddie echoes, scoffing loudly. “What the hell does that even mean?”

Jeff stands up, ready to bulldoze through whatever counterattack Eddie concocts. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you’re a miserable person to be around. When you first moved back, when Harris was a newborn, we figured it was just a lack of sleep. But your kid’s four now, Munson,” Jeff says pointedly, “and you’re still a dick.”

“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Eddie mutters with an incredulous laugh. “Let me get this straight: I have a couple of bad days, and you shut shit down? Without even talking to me about it first?”

This ignites a spark in Jeff, and he puffs out his chest and takes another step towards Eddie. “You wanna talk about it? Fine; we’ll talk. What should we start with, hm? The way you can never be happy for any of us unless it benefits you? The way you act like an immature teenager, selling drugs instead of getting a real job? The way you treat women like they’re disposable?” He looks Eddie dead in the eyes and says curtly, “I heard about your little ‘frigid bitch’ comment. And at her job, too. Real nice.”

“Why do you care whether or not I still sell? Or how I treat women?” Eddie shoots back. “Did I get you in trouble with your old lady or something?”

“That’s the other thing,” There’s no mistaking the bitterness seeping from Jeff’s pores. “I tell you–one of my oldest, closest friends–that I’m getting married and having a baby with the love of my life, and you couldn’t be bothered to give a shit.”

Eddie feels his mouth dry up, knowing that everything Jeff’s said is true; he clears his throat and tries to play it off. “You cool with this, Gareth?” he asks the drummer, hoping no one caught the waver in his voice.

Gareth can’t even let his gaze meet Eddie’s as he mumbles, “I used to look up to you, man. You were my honest-to-God hero. But now, I…I don’t want to be like you anymore.”

The confession is a total knockout; Eddie stumbles back as though he’s actually been punched in the gut. “Whatever. You can all choke for all I care.” He slings his guitar case back over his shoulder and starts towards his car.

“Let us know when you decide to grow up,” Jeff calls out. Eddie just flips him off, slamming the car door and speeding down the road.

Fuck them, he thinks, barreling through a stop sign without even noticing. Who the fuck do they think they are; breaking up the band because they don’t like my attitude? They didn’t mind my attitude when it protected them from all the assholes at school, or when it got them into clubs when they were underage. But now they’re complaining about it? Fucking pricks.

As he turns into the trailer park entrance, a thought occurs to him: how the hell did Jeff know that I called her a “frigid bitch” at work? What did she do, call him up and snitch on me? Trying to ruin my life all because I didn’t call her? He grips the steering wheel even tighter, throwing the car in park and stomping out to Wayne’s trailer. He knocks impatiently, as though he’s been kept waiting.

“What are you doing back so soon?” Wayne asks, concern written all over his face. “And why do you look like you’re about to punch a wall–Jesus, Ed, take a breather.”

“They kicked me out of the band,” he mutters through gritted teeth, walking over to where Harris is eating a bowl of macaroni and cheese in front of the TV and sitting down next to him, pressing a kiss to his curly hair. “Gave me some BS about taking a break, how I make all of them miserable, blah blah blah.”

“What’s ‘BS’?” Harris pipes up with a mouthful of cheesy pasta, but Eddie just mumbles, “don’t worry about it,” under his breath, and the boy goes back to watching a rerun of The Flintstones.

Wayne sighs, scratching at the scruff of his beard. “They said that you make them miserable?” he asks, wincing slightly. He knew that his nephew’s demeanor had changed considerably over the years; what was once teenage cynicism had slowly morphed into a constant state of anger and unhappiness. Wayne thought maybe it was just in his head, or just around him, but if Eddie’s best friends noticed it, too, it was more serious than he’d initially thought.

“More or less,” Eddie chuckles tersely. “And then they threw something in there about my–my job, about how I, um, pursue lots of different women, how I don’t support their choices when we all know it’ll take away from the band.”

“Support their choices?” Wayne echoes.

“Jeff’s girl is having a baby, and he wants to marry her,” Eddie explains, biting his thumbnail as he shakes his head incredulously. “So he’s gonna have less time for Corroded Coffin. How are we supposed to make something of ourselves if he’s gonna flake?”

“I don’t know if that’s flaking–”

“I mean, let me get this straight,” Eddie interrupts, standing up to pace. “Jeff’s a goddamn superhero for knocking someone up and taking time away from the band, but I’m the one who’s ruining it for everyone? Because I actually act like a rockstar?”

“Well, Rockstar,” Wayne crosses his arms over his chest angrily, “have you ever stopped to consider that maybe they’re right? Stopped to think about how your actions impact them? How would you feel if Jeff berated you for wanting to start a life with someone you care about?” He pauses for a moment, glancing at his grandson. “I’m not saying you have to get married or settle down, but if you aren’t gonna have a maternal figure in your boy’s life, you should at least show him how to respect women.”

Eddie snorts, grabbing his keys from his pocket and walking towards the door. “Like how women respected me? How all the girls at school called me a ‘freak’ or a ‘loser’?”

“You’re not in high school anymore!” Wayne shouts, snapping Harris from his Fred Flintstone-induced daze. “You’re a grown-ass man! With a kid! And if you spend the rest of your life jumping from girl to girl because of how you were treated fifteen years ago, you’re gonna continue to be one miserable son-of-a-b–gun.”

Ignoring his uncle’s rebuttal, Eddie waves Harris over. “C’mon, Har-Bear. We gotta get home. Say good-bye to Grampa Wayne”

“Ed, you don’t have to–”,

“I’m really not interested in what you, or anyone else, has to say about my life,” he snaps, taking Harris’s empty bowl and tossing it in the sink with a clatter. “I’m doing the best I can; my kid is fed and clothed, and the lights and water are on in my place. Harris, I said, let’s go.” He takes his son’s hand and walks him to the car.

“Daddy!” Harris whines as Eddie buckles him into his carseat. “I didn’t get to say goodbye to Grampa Wayne!”

Eddie lets out an exasperated sigh. “It’s okay, bud. We just gotta get home. Grampa understands.”

Harris bursts into tears, screaming and wailing at the top of his lungs. “I! WANT! GRAMPA!” he shrieks, kicking the back of Eddie’s seat over and over. “I don’t like you anymore, Daddy! You’re mean!”

Eddie tries to ignore the sting of Harris’s insult, reminding himself that he’s just a kid, but the words are like a thorn in his side. “I’m mean?”

“Mhm,” Harris says with another heaving sob. He tries to catch his breath between his words. “You…m-made…Grampa Wayne…yell. A-And th-then you…didn’t let me…say…goodbye!”

A dull ache thumps behind Eddie’s frontal lobe. “I’m sorry, Har. I should’ve let you say goodbye. We can call him when we get home, and you can say goodbye then.”

This seems to quell Harris’s tantrum, and his soft hiccups slowly fade out as he drifts off to sleep. Eddie gingerly unbuckles his seatbelt and lifts him. There will be a day where he won’t be able to lift him anymore, but he can’t bear the idea right now.

He carries his son up the three flights of stairs and places him in his tiny race car bed. Eddie’s frameless mattress is right next to it, and he lays down and watches Harris’s chest expand and contract with each little breath. His bow-shaped lips are slightly pursed, and there’s a smudge of dried mucus under his nose, a remnant from when he was crying earlier. Eddie makes a mental note to wash off his face before he goes to school tomorrow.

School—the thought of seeing you, really—had his stomach twisting in knots. Everything was fine until you waltzed into town, getting so bent out of shape over a one-night stand that you ratted him out to his bandmate. And now he looks like the asshole.

He’ll sort it out tomorrow. He’ll march into the school and ask for—no, demand—that Harris is transferred to another classroom. And then he’ll never have to deal with you again.

“I’m sorry, but all of the classes are full.”

Eddie raps his fingertips on the school secretary’s desk impatiently. “They’re…full?” He sputters, unable to believe his shitty luck. “Nah, there’s gotta be space for him somewhere. Can you check again?”

The secretary peers up at him over her coke-bottle glasses and rolls her eyes. “Mr. Munson, in order to remain in compliance with Indiana state standards, we are allowed a maximum of ten students per class. All of our classes already have ten students.”

“For fuck’s sake,” he hisses, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “Can’t we just swap him with a kid from another class? He can have their teacher and they can have his.”

“If a student from a different classroom moves or requests a transfer, we can discuss allowing Harris to switch. For now, we can just make a note of it in his file and let you know if that opportunity arises.”

Harris looks at his dad with a puzzled expression. “But, Daddy, I like my teacher! She’s really nice and she doesn’t get mad at me if I forget the rules.”

Heat creeps into Eddie’s face as he feels the secretary’s glare–a mixture of bewilderment and irritation that he’s wasting her time with his asinine request. He gives a resigned sigh and takes Harris’s hand as he walks him towards the classroom.

“Have a great day, Har-Bear!” he says, feigning enthusiasm as they reach the door. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Harris frowns. “You’re not gonna walk me inside like tomorrow?”

Eddie pauses for a second, brows pinching together in confusion before he realizes what Harris means. “You mean yesterday?” Eddie corrects him, the corners of his lips tugging into a small smile at his son’s error. “I, uh, I think it’s better if I just stay out here.”

He waits for the impending tantrum, but to his surprise, Harris just shrugs and says, “Okay, bye!” and swings the door open, backpack bouncing as he speedruns into the room excitedly. Eddie can hear your voice, calm and patient, saying, “Harris, we use our walking feet in the classroom,” and his son replying with a chipper, “Oh, yeah! Sorry!”

He’s halfway down the hallway when you call out, “Mr. Munson?”

“Ya?” He stops walking, but doesn’t bother to turn around and face you. He stares at a bulletin board that reads Welcome Back to School in glittery red cut-out letters. Framing the message are little cardboard apples, each with a student’s name written on them in permanent marker. He spots the one that says Harris in the top left corner, and an unfamiliar twinge of pride sets in his chest.

“I need you to sign Harris in,” you say, trying to keep your tone as even as you do with your students. “It’s school policy.”

“Christ on a cracker,” Eddie grumbles under his breath, spinning back on his heels to head back to the room. So much for avoiding you. You’re standing outside the door, and he immediately notices the way your maroon pants hug your curves in all the right places. If only her personality was as pleasant as her ass, he thinks bitterly, dragging his gaze to the clipboard in your hand. “I didn’t have to do this yesterday.”

“It was the first day of school. I forgot,” you admit. You’re not exactly sure why you’re giving him so much ammunition; perhaps it was the way he just conspicuously drank in the sight of you. “Kinda crazy around here.” You will yourself to shut up, practically clamping your lips together so you’ll stop talking.

Eddie scoffs, yanking the clipboard from your grasp. “Well, aren’t you Teacher of the Year,” he sneers, clicking the pen and scribbling his signature next to Harris’s name before jabbing the sheet back at you.

Ignoring his insult, you force yourself to make eye contact as you inform him, “You’ll need to come back in later to sign him out.”

He bites back an irritated laugh, shoving his hands in the pockets of his torn black jeans. He’s equipped with another comment ready to launch at you, one related to your rendezvous a week earlier, but he stops when he sees Harris tugging on the hem of your shirt with urgency.

“What if I’m with my new teacher?” he asks innocently, eyes wide with concern.

“What new teacher, honey?” you ask, crouching down to his level. “You mean Mr. Will?”

Harris shakes his head fervently. “Daddy asked the lady at the desk if I could have a new teacher instead of you.”

You expect Eddie to be embarrassed by his son’s candidness, but he doesn’t even appear to be fazed. “It was your idea, Sweetheart,” he says with a sly grin. “I’m only making good on my word.”

“Well, look at you, keeping your promises,” you bite back instinctively, silently cursing yourself for snapping at him when you’re on the clock. He might be a total asshole, but he’s Harris’s dad first. At least while you’re at work. You turn your attention back to the little boy. “I’m sorry if we confused you, Harris. I’m your teacher, okay?”

Harris nods slowly, indicating that he doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, but he doesn’t press the issue further. His gaze flits between you and his father. “Why’d you call her ‘Sweetheart’?” he questions Eddie. “Are you boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Eddie nearly chokes on his own tongue. “Absolutely not,” he insists at the same time that you chime in with a firm, “no.”

“Then why–”

“It’s a nickname,” Eddie interrupts before Harris can say anything else. “Like how I call you ‘Har-Bear,’ or how I call Grampa Wayne ‘Old Man.’”

“Oh.” Harris chews on the answer before seemingly accepting it, giggling when he thinks of the way his grandpa grimaces at the name ‘Old Man.’. He smiles up at you. “Can I call you Sweetheart, too?”

You smile back at him, ruffling his curly hair. “That’s Ms. Sweetheart to you,” you tease, but as a four-year-old, he doesn’t pick up on your sarcasm.

“Okay, Ms. Sweetheart!” he laughs, and he mimics your movements and ruffles your hair right back before you stand up. How is this kid so precious when his dad is a complete and utter douchebag?

“Well,” Eddie says finally, crossing his arms over his chest, “I won’t forget about signing him out when I pick him up.”

“Try to get here on time today,” you retort, guiding Harris over to where Will is playing with the other students. “Really makes my job easier when the parents do what they’re supposed to do.”

He walks away with a haughty laugh. “Bold of you to assume I’d want to make anything easier for you.”

The rest of Eddie’s morning proceeds as normal. He picks up the product from Rick’s place and gives him his cut of what he made yesterday. Carefully separating it into small baggies, he delivers to his usuals: the guys who work down on the loading dock, the supergenius stoner who allegedly works as some top government official, the young teacher at Hawkins High who, more than once, has paid for her share with decent head behind the football field. Of course, Eddie keeps a bit hidden away for himself. Whoever coined the phrase don’t get high on your own supply never had a seemingly never-ending stash of weed.

He arrives back at his apartment just before noon, ready to crash on the couch and watch some mind-numbing TV. Opening the door, he kicks off his muddy sneakers to find his uncle sitting on the couch, twiddling his thumbs anxiously.

“Jesus, Wayne!” Eddie shouts, putting a hand to his chest. Giving him a key to the place suddenly didn’t seem like such a great idea. “Scared the shit outta me. What’re you doing here? Don’t you have work?”

“Took the day off,” Wayne explains, reaching for the manila envelope that he’s placed on the cushion next to him. “Had, uh, an appointment.”

Based on the serious look on his face, Eddie assumes he’s talking about a doctor, and the blood drains from his face at the thought of Wayne battling a terminal illness. “Shit, you okay? Are you sick?”

“Sit down, Eddie.” He hands him the envelope without another word. Eddie does what he says, flipping up the edges of the silver fastener and taking out a small stack of stapled papers. He scans the documents, expecting to see some kind of medical test results. Instead, his eyes widen as he reads the opening lines:

TEMPORARY CUSTODY AGREEMENT:

I, EDWARD JOHN MUNSON, the custodial parent of the following child(ren): HARRIS WAYNE MUNSON, do hereby give custody to WAYNE ALBERT MUNSON.

“What the hell is this?” Eddie snarls, clenching his fists and crumpling the papers. “Are you trying to take my kid away from me? Is this some kind of sick revenge because of our fight yesterday?”

Wayne shakes his head. “Ed, this has nothing to do with what happened yesterday. I’ve had this meeting with the lawyer for a while now.” He lets out a long, tired sigh. “When you got arrested a couple months ago, it made me realize how much I was turnin’ a blind eye to your…business.”

“You mean when Hopper let me off with a warning?” Eddie reminds him. He rolls his eyes impatiently, but his bouncing leg gives away how nervous he is to have this conversation. “The Chief isn’t gonna let anyone lock me up just for selling pot. I won’t sell the hard shit anymore, and Rick knows that.”

But the older man presses on, ignoring his nephew’s rebuttal. “When your dad got arrested, I was lucky that the state gave you to me instead of sticking you in foster care. But we were both twenty-odd years younger; I don’t know they’d be so willing to let an old man take care of a four-year-old without it in writing.”

The mention of his father has Eddie seeing red. “I’m not my dad.” he spits. “My dad didn’t fucking take me to school. Couldn’t even be bothered to make sure I had everything I needed. Food, water, shelter? That piece of shit didn’t give a rat’s ass.”

“But he did sell drugs. And that’s how he got busted,” Wayne points out, voice rising a bit. “And Hopper’s nearly as old as I am. He’s gonna be retiring soon; we can’t keep countin’ on him to cover for you.” His eyes are misty with tears as he says, “all I want is for Harris to have the same kind of protection that you had. Just until you get a job that doesn’t put you at odds with the law. It’s all temporary, see?” He motions to the first bolded word at the top of the document.

But Eddie’s too enraged to care, tearing up the papers and letting them fall to the floor like legal confetti. “I’ve gotta go,” he hisses, grabbing his keys so quickly that they clatter among the sea of document scraps. “You should go, too.”

“I could get you some work at the plant,” Wayne offers meekly. It’s not the first time he’s extended the opportunity, but he figures it’s worth a shot. “Just somethin’ while you look for what you really wanna–”

“I said, leave!” Eddie shouts. “I don’t need you poking your nose in my life anymore. My life works for me, and it works for Harris, and there’s no reason to turn everything upside down.”

“You think his dad gettin’ thrown in prison won’t turn his life upside down?!” Wayne snaps, finally unloading everything onto Eddie. “You think being torn away from the people he loves won’t hurt him? I’d do anything to keep that boy safe, just like I did for you, you ungrateful sonofabitch.”

Eddie’s response flies off of his tongue before he can bite it back. “And look how that turned out for me.”

A pained expression crosses Wayne’s face, but he recovers quickly. “I’ll always love you, Ed. No matter what.” He pauses. “But I don’t like who you are anymore. Ever since you moved back here, all you’ve done is push away the people who care about you.” He starts towards the door before briefly turning back. “When you’re ready to let people in, to be happy again, you let me know.”

Eddie scoops up his keys and flings open the door, letting it slam behind him. His fingers tremble as he fumbles for the pack of cigarettes in his back pocket. It takes a few tries before he can steady his hands enough to light one, and he inhales deeply to try and calm his nerves. How could Wayne possibly think that Harris wasn’t safe with him? After everything Eddie had sacrificed for his son; the dreams he gave up, the life he let go of…

Did anyone actually believe that he still wanted to be here, in Hawkins, the town bursting with haunting memories? Every time he drove near the high school, he could practically hear the echoing taunts of freak and loser emanating from its hallowed halls. No; he was only here because he couldn’t raise a kid alone. Apparently, Wayne thought he was incapable altogether.

He goes through another three cigarettes on the ride to the preschool, snuffing out the last one with the toe of his scuffed Vans outside the entrance.

“I need to sign out my son, Harris Munson,” he tells the secretary, who gives him a bemused glare. “Family emergency.”

The secretary nods, picking up the phone without taking her eyes off of Eddie, as though she’s concerned that he’ll bolt if she lets him out of her sight. He hears her relaying the message that Harris’s dad is here to pick him up early, but he’s too busy pacing back and forth to eavesdrop for a response.

All he can think about is how it would feel to sign those papers, basically admitting defeat. Admitting that he couldn’t handle fatherhood. Just because he stepped up when Harris’s mom wasn’t able to be a parent didn’t mean he was a good dad. It just meant he stuck around.

Maybe his presence in Harris’s life was doing more harm than good.

“Mr. Munson?” Your voice draws him out of his rumination. You’re holding a now-empty Tupperware that once contained a salad; dressing smeared on the inside, and your eyes hold nothing but concern. Nothing in your body language demonstrates any sort of contempt, and Eddie has to wonder how bad he looks for you to not hate him, even briefly. “Is everything okay?”

It’s then that he realizes that his lip is bleeding from biting it so hard, and his cheeks are wet with tears.

“Don’t you have a classroom of kids to watch?” he sneers, watching as you wince. “Really vying for that Teacher of the Year spot, aren’t ya?”

“It’s my lunch break…” you start before realizing that you have no need to defend yourself to him. “Why are you so mean to me?” You keep your tone as hushed as possible, not wanting to attract any unwanted listeners. “Seriously, what did I do to you?”

“Besides ruin my life?”

You scoff incredulously, annoyance creeping back into your posture. For some reason, this bothers Eddie less than seeing you worried about him. “What are you talking about?”

“Your little gossip session with Jeff?” he spits back. “The one where you told him I called you a frigid bitch? Or maybe the one where you painted me to be some asswipe womanizer all because I didn’t call you?” He rakes his fingers through his long brown curls. “I have no one now; are you happy? Christ, you’ve lived in this goddamn town for two minutes and you’ve managed to turn my best friends against me.”

“I didn’t do shit,” you fume, whispering the last word in case children are passing by. “I told Jess, and I didn’t know she was at her sister’s place. And the only reason Jeff even knew about our night together was because I needed a ride after you basically kicked me out of your apartment.”

“You weren’t supposed to sleep over,” he murmurs so softly, you can barely hear him.

“Why not? What would’ve been so bad about that?”

He doesn’t have the chance to answer–or come up with a half-hearted excuse–before Harris is flinging himself into his legs, wrapping his arms around his waist in a tight hug. “Daddy! Mr. Will said I’m going home, but none of my friends are going home.”

Eddie scoops up his son, resting him on his hip. “That’s because you and I are having a super-special, super-secret Daddy-Son Day at the zoo!” he whispers in his ear, and Harris beams in response. Eddie’s own father never took him out of school and brought him on fun outings. The only time he got out early was when they were on the run from the cops or evading an eviction notice over unpaid rent. Zoo trips? Unheard of. So there, Wayne.

“Have fun!” you chirp, swallowing your anger for Harris’s sake, and for your own. “I can’t wait to hear all about it, Harris.” You rub his back gently and walk back to your classroom. Like most of your encounters with Eddie Munson, you leave with more questions than answers.

“Daddy, look at that!” Harris shouts happily, pointing to a flamingo stretching and flapping its pink wings. “Look how fluffy it is!”

Eddie squints in the sun to get a better view. “Yeah,” he agrees with a laugh, squeezing Harris’s hand. “Fluffy like a teddy bear.”

Harris frowns, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “No, Daddy. That’s a bird, not a bear.”

“You’re right,” Eddie says, trying to hold back his laughter. “You’re really learnin’ a lot in school, huh?”

“Mhm,” Harris says, leading his dad to the next exhibit. A hippo pops its head out of the water and glances around curiously before lowering back down. “Ms. Sweetheart is the bestest teacher ever! She sings songs, an’ reads to us, an’ she’s even helping me write my name!”

At the mention of your inadvertent nickname, Eddie’s jaw clenches. It’s my own stupid fault for bringing up school, he thinks bitterly, but brushes past it. “Are you having fun on our Daddy-Son Day?”

“Most fun ever!” Harris jumps up and down with each syllable. “Did you and Grampa Wayne do Daddy-Son days?”

Eddie shakes his head. “Har, remember? Grampa Wayne is actually my uncle, not my dad.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harris says, slowing his pace slightly. “But he was kinda like your dad, right? He took care of you like he’s your dad?”

“Y-Yeah,” Eddie nods. “Yeah, he took care of me like a dad.”

“Where is your dad? Why didn’t he take care of you?”

“He, um, he couldn’t,” Eddie offers lamely. “He didn’t know how to be a dad. So Grampa Wayne decided to raise me.” As he says the words, he feels sick. He’s tried so hard not to be like his old man–his biological one–and yet he’d basically become a carbon copy. Just a guy in way over his head, failing to be the man his son needed him to be. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” Harris chirps happily. “Daddy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we go see the penguins now?”

“Sure thing, bud.”

On the way back from the zoo, with Harris nodding off in the backseat after the self-proclaimed “best day of his life,” Eddie pulls into the record store parking lot. It’s changed quite a bit since his younger years, but the music selection is still the best this town has to offer. He peruses their metal section, a snoozing Harris resting his cheek against his chest. Plucking a few cassettes from the bin, he places them on the counter and digs into his back pocket for his wallet. A handwritten HELP WANTED sign catches his eye.

“You guys hiring?” he asks the bored teenager behind the register.

“Yup,” comes the monotone reply, not making eye contact as he rings up the tapes.

Eddie waits a beat before continuing. “Is there an application or something?” The cashier pulls a sheet of paper from behind the sign and hands it to him. “Cool. I’ll drop it off tomorrow.” Eddie takes the bag of cassettes and shuffles back towards the car.

The application feels like it’s staring at him from where he’s set it on the passenger seat. The idea of being a minimum wage employee makes him cringe; it’ll probably take him weeks to earn what he makes in a day for Rick. He glances in the rearview mirror at his peacefully sleeping son.

“Only for you, Har-Bear.”

@littlepotatobeansworld @kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @definitelynotecho @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday @breezybeesposts @tlclick73 @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @krahk @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @theactualf0ck @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights @eggo-segual @rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff

@meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea @fckyeahlames @chaoticgood-munson @rachofficial @poofyloofy @girlintherubyslippers @shotgunhallelujah @thirddeadlysin @sinczir @vintagehellfire @ieatmunson @behind-thebrowneyes @southblizzard @ilovetaquitosmmmm @blueberry--lemon

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

2K notes · View notes

assortedseaglass · 1 year

Text

Come Back To Me

Billy Washington x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Trigger Point (TV) Spoilers, Language

18+. This series will eventually contain violence, specifically related to terrorism; it will be depictions of what happens in the TV series, so those who have seen it will know what to expect. This series will also contain smut.

Author’s Note: Recently rewatched Trigger Point with my family, and I know I’m not the only one here with Billy Washington thirst. First chapter is just setting the scene, in a chapter or two the plot will link up the TV series.

Word Count: 2K

“Mean machine’s seen better days.” Ida slumped into the passenger seat of her best friend’s car, kicking aside an empty crisp packet to make way for her bag. Billy simply hummed in acknowledgment, reaching to turn the radio dial down and turn the ignition.

London, late June. The typically gentle English summer was transforming into a more formidable beast; on the radio a news reader announced that by mid-week the temperature would reach into the 30os. All the windows of Billy’s battered Vauxhall were down, his sandy hair already plastered to his forehead with sweat. Heat bounded off the high rises and bore down onto the street. Curtains flapped through open windows, people trudged wearily along the scorching pavement and the car rumbled towards a red light.

“How’d it go then?” Billy rasped, eyes focused on the traffic. “Fucking tosser,” he added in an undertone as a driver cut across the lane.

“Yeah, ok,” replied Ida. “First years are keen to learn, but they won’t say boo to a goose.”

“To be fair, I’d be terrified of you too,” Billy said with a smirk. “Wouldn’t cross you in a month of Sundays.”

Ida tutted at him but smiled nonetheless. “What’s the plan then, Wash?”

“Park and a pint? Got dinner at Becky’s parents’ tonight so I’ll drop you home around 6?”

“You and Becky back on then?”

Billy winked in response, and Ida tutted again.

“Ah, tune!” Billy ignored Ida’s chiding and turned up the radio.

Cranstead Fields at mid-afternoon was full of the typical fare. Young men playing football, dog walkers and a few of what Ida’s grandma called “shifty types”: druggies lurking under the shade of the trees. Billy and Ida sat with their backs against a tree trunk, watching the men kick around the football. Occasionally, it was kicked their way and Billy made a show of kicking it back.

“Go join them if you want, I don’t mind.” Ida’s bag was full of reading she had fallen behind on.

“Nah, you’re alright. Don’t wanna show them up.” He plonked himself back on the grass and lay next to her.

They had been coming to Cranstead Fields since they were kids. When Ida’s grandma grew tired, she offloaded her onto the Washington’s next door. Not that they minded, Billy had too much energy and Ida seemed to anchor him back on earth. Each Saturday, she watched from the side lines with Val or Jeff while Billy was at football club. If they were lucky, they’d get ice creams on the way home. Back at the house they’d bounce on the trampoline, waving to Ida’s grandma over the fence as she sat with a cup of tea and the cat in the sun. Inevitably, when Billy’s rough and tumble got too much for little Ida, she’d wander indoors and hover in Lana’s doorway. Billy’s older sister by ten years, Ida would watch as Lana put on make-up, or listen to whatever she had in her CD player.

Since the day she moved next door with her Grandma, Ida and Billy were inseparable and Cranstead was their playground. It was where their guardians sent them for a run around in a last-ditch attempt to rid them of energy before dinner. It was where Ida followed Billy as he screamed and shouted about Lana being their dad’s favourite after a particularly explosive argument. Where they sat on the swings, downing tinnies as Ida cried about a boy that Billy, quite frankly, didn’t think was worth it. Today, Cranstead served as common ground, somewhere to catch up as adulthood pulled them in different directions. Ida, a PhD student, teaching and researching to make her way. Billy, well, who knows?

Ida’s eyes were distracted from the football by the sound of tearing. Billy was pulling up clumps of grass. She reached out and put her hand on top of his. “Stop that.” He threw the last clump over her, which she wiped from her hair before asking what was wrong.

“This dinner thing tonight. Becky’s parents don’t hide the fact they hate me-“

“That’s not true!”

“Don’t interrupt. They’ve never liked me, Ida. And let’s be honest, who’d want their daughter with someone on the dole?” Billy sat up and put his elbows on his knees, eyeing the flats on the horizon.

Ida sat up and patted his back a moment. “Everyone’s struggling to get a job these days, something’ll come up. And if they say anything about it tonight, send em my way.” She nudged his shoulder, he huffed a non-committal laugh and they both looked at the horizon.

“Why don’t you talk to Becky about it?” Ida said. “Surely she can have a word with her parents? Mustn’t be nice for her to have them slag off her boyfriend!” The ball flew back towards them, and Billy stood to kick it back. He didn’t sit down again.

“Think she agrees with them to be honest.” He rubbed the back of his neck and Ida tutted. When Billy smirked down at her, she felt her cheeks burn.

“What?”

“I love that sound,” he said.

THWUMP

A wayward kick sent the football soaring into the back of Billy’s head.

“Watch it!” Ida shouted at the men, standing up. Billy grabbed the football from the ground, and instead of kicking it back, ran towards the car, laughing wildly.

“Wash! Billy Washington! Christ!” Ida grabbed her bag, heavy and full to bursting with books, and sprinted after him. The sound of the men shouting at them was muffled as her breath roared in her ears. Ahead of her, Billy dropped the ball, got in the car and started the engine. Ida flung herself into the passenger seat once more and they sped out of the car park and towards home.

Billy kept the engine running when they arrived outside Ida’s flat above the florist. The lights were already on. Sofia was home then. “Come in for a cuppa?”

“Nah, best be off to beat the traffic.” Billy leant his arm on the open car window and looked at her. Bright, deep and blue, his eyes gave the impression of one trying to hide that they had been crying. Above them were eyebrows set in one of two states; a frown or perplexment. A man with his heart on his sleeve. A flush of red always adorned his nose and the high points of his cheeks, even when he wasn’t embarrassed. When he was, he’d look down and freeze.

They had always been opposites. Where Billy was tall and lithe, Ida was short and soft. He sun-smattered and rosy, she pale and freckled. Ida was uptight, Billy was relaxed. She enjoyed being alone, he craved other people. Her smiles were broad and her laughter small, his were the other way around. Where Ida’s hair was dark and curly, his was like flaxen straw and in desperate need of cutting. A few tendrils were sticking to the nape of his neck, and Ida was just close enough to reach out and curl one around her finger…

“Ida?” Billy was grinning lopsidedly at her, the early evening light catching in his messy hair and bestowing him a halo. Ida laughed at that observation. Billy raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Well, good luck,” she said awkwardly, fumbling with her bag and keys. Recovering herself she added, “And if they say anything, tell em to do one. Text me later, yeah?” Billy saluted in response and without another word, pulled away.

Ida waited until he’d turned the corner, waving as he did, before turning the key and dragging her sun-weary body up the stairs of the flat. She was right, Sofia was home - muffled giggles could be heard from her room.

A few minutes later, Sofia appeared in the doorway of the kitchen as Ida rooted around the fridge. “You been with Billy?”

“Yeah,”

“He got a job yet?”

“Nah.” Ida retrieved a squash from the back of the fridge and waved it at her friend. “Gonna make dinner, you want some?” Sofia nodded. “Does Faisal want feeding too?” Ida continued.

Sofia blushed. “How do you know!?”

“It’s that post-coital glow,” Ida winked and Sofia laughed.

“You could have it too, if only you invited a fella round once in a while.”

“Hush, you, do you want feeding?” Ida waggled her finger. Sofia gave her a knowing look and left to fetch Faisal from the bedroom. What Sofia didn’t know was that Ida couldn’t invite any old “fella” round. Not when one was already stuck in her head.

Billy wanted a beer. Why did he drive instead of getting the train? Becky’s parents had opened a bottle of Merlot to lubricate that evening’s interrogation, and he was feeling horrifically sober. When they asked him for the hundredth time whether he regretted not going to university, he looked to Becky but she avoided his eye and became very interested in her empty plate.

“I didn’t get the grades.” He said. Don’t lie to make them feel better. Ida’s voice echoed around his head. For a moment, no said a word.

“Your friend Ida is doing well, isn’t she.” Mrs Walters said, though it was a statement more than a question. “Funny that, really. How different two children with almost identical upbringings can be?” Did they really think him so stupid that he couldn’t pick up that thinly veiled insult? At least they’d presented him with a change of subject.

“Yeah, I picked her up from the uni today actually. She’s been teaching some of the first years.” Both of Becky’s parents looked to her instead of Billy, gauging her reaction. She looked at her father pointedly and continued to ignore Billy.

“Teaching undergraduates is a lot easier than teaching primary school though.” Becky’s dad chimed in. “Becky’s got the responsibility of early years progression on her shoulders. Not to mention all those bloody colds she gets from the little rascals!”

What could he say? Billy downed his water and putting on his bravest smile said, “I’d better be off. Up early tomorrow.”

“For what?”

Billy didn’t reply, only kissed Mrs Walters on the cheek, shook Mr Walters’ hand and followed Becky to the door. Her blonde hair was tied tightly in a ponytail, her arms folded over her crisply ironed blouse.

“Coming back to the flat?” Billy asked, snaking an arm around her waist and kissing her deeply.

“Not tonight,” she said between kisses. “Going to stay at mum and dad’s.”

Billy nuzzled and nibbled at her neck. “What’s the point of paying the rent if you’re always here? Come on, come back tonight,”

“Billy.” She put her arms on his chest and lightly pushed him away.

“Ok. Ok.” He said it more to himself than anyone else. He span around before he left, and kissed her quickly on the cheek. She giggled, then shut the door on him.

His phone was out in a flash. Without thinking, the same way your feet carry you home before you have even realised it, he sent a text to the last person in his messages.

Middle class wankers.

Seconds later, his phone pinged.

Went well then. Meet at the Swan tomorrow? 3ish? x

Starting the engine of his battered car, Billy Washington smiled for what felt like the first time in hours.

#ewan mitchell #billy washington #ewan mitchell x reader #aemond x reader #trigger point #trigger point series

149 notes · View notes

skymaiden32 · 7 months

Text

Brothers and Enemies

Read on AO3 here

Fandom: Thunderbirds

Tagging: @dragonoffantasyandreality @thundergeek59 @janetm74 @katblu42 @liseylou @amistrio @uniwolfcorn @idontknowreallywhy (Please ask if you would like to get alerts when I update or post new stories.)

Thundertober Day 6: Spiritual

Kyrano gives three feuding brothers a few words of advice.

Continuity: TOS

------

It was a beautiful day on Tracy Island. An array of tropical wildlife thrived in the trees of the jungle and the reefs of the surrounding sea, all vibrant and colourful. Kyrano inhaled deeply as he watched it all from the sanctity of his garden. Days like this, when the world was at peace and all was still, were what he lived for.

So of course, the powers that be decided it was high time for some chaos. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!!” The shout carried from the main house across what must have been the entire island. Kyrano immediately recognised the voice as Virgil. He sighed, wondering who was responsible for the second brother's anger. And what the reason was. It took a lot to make Virgil angry, but when he was, the entire house knew within seconds.

“Then next time,” a second voice replied to Virgil. Alan. “Don’t steal my cheesecake!” Kyrano chuckled. A trivial disagreement between brothers. Seemed like this would get resolved by itself fairly quickly. At least hopefully. With Grandma on the supply run with Scott, and Jeff away on business, there was no-one to keep them in check.

“That doesn’t mean you can just do that, Alan! I could’ve really gotten hurt there…” Of course, Kyrano thought, he could be proven wrong about it being resolved quickly.

Alan scoffed. “Really? By slipping on some spilled water?”

“Spilled water from an ice bucket,” Virgil explained. Kyrano could practically see him getting angrier from here. “That YOU kicked over while I was walking past!” Kyrano’s interest was definitely piqued now. He moved closer to the house to hear a little better, and to intervene if need be.

“Yeah…” Gordon’s voice was nervous as he joined in. “It was going a bit far for a slice of cheesecake, if you ask me, Al…”

“Well nobody did ask you, Gordon.” Alan replied harshly. “So you can stay out of this!”

Virgil gasped as if what Alan had just said had been directed at him. “Don’t talk to Gordon like that! Or me for that matter!”

Just as Alan was about to retort, Kyrano decided it was high time he stepped in. “What seems to be the problem, gentlemen?” He walked over the threshold. “It sounds like quite the argument.”

Virgil argued against the intervention. “Oh, it’s nothing, Kyrano. Don’t worry. Just a normal brotherly spat.”

Gordon chuckled without humour. “Sure, let’s call it that...”

Alan glared at his immediate brother. Kyrano raised his eyebrow. “Oh? Well, I happen to have had my fair share of these ‘brotherly spats’. I am happy to help where I can and offer advice, if you so desire.”

“It’s fine-”

“I insist, Master Alan.” Kyrano stated matter-of-factly, giving his daughter’s boyfriend a pointed look. “Come sit, all of you,” he pointed to the chairs outside. “And we will discuss over a nice cup of tea.”

The mere suggestion calmed the three enough that they exchanged a puzzled look, before nodding. Gordon and Alan sat on the balcony, looking out to the sea, with Virgil offering to help Kyrano with the tea. Soon, the four men sat in a circle, calm, but subdued given what had just happened.

“It is not easy,” the manservant started, causing all three brothers to look up at him from their drinks. “To get along with your brothers at all times. In fact, it may well be impossible. Believe me, I understand that perfectly. After all, it is simply what happens when you live and work with people who are so similar to you for so long.” He sighed. “But Master Alan, your brothers were right when they not only said someone could’ve gotten seriously hurt, but it was also a step too far.” They all listened, attentively. “My own brother hurt me, and continues to hurt me near daily.” Three pairs of eyes flew wide open at the statement, all of them knowing exactly who Kyrano was talking about. “We were as close as you five were, once.”

“What happened?” Alan’s voice was quiet when he asked that question. “How did he become…” He hesitated, but he didn’t need to finish that sentence. He tried anyway. “The Hood…?”

Kyrano sighed again, sipping his tea. “I wish I knew when it started. All I do know is that one day, he went too far. My wife…” He shook his head. “Forgive me for not being as forthcoming as you would like.” Kyrano looked at Alan again. “It may seem trivial to you, but it was not to your brothers. I will not let your family be split apart like mine was.”

Alan sighed, reading between the lines, and turned to look at his two older brothers. “I’m sorry. I really am…”

“We know sprout. Just don’t do it again.” Gordon ruffled his hair. The radio in the lounge beeped urgently. “That’ll be Grandma and Scott. I’ll guide them in and you meet them on the runway, okay?”

“Okay.” Alan nodded in agreement, and the two left, leaving Virgil and Kyrano by themselves.

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you, Kyrano. You always know just what to say. Guess you’ve learned a thing or two from the spiritual lifesyle.”

“That, and being old.” Kyrano smiled, and Virgil laughed. “I was just happy to help.” He made his way back down the steps to the garden, only stopping to say one last thing. “Remember to finish that tea. It wouldn’t do to let it get cold.”

Back down in the garden, he breathed in and out, taking in the new but familiar sounds as one more Tracy brother and their grandmother joined what was soon to be a cacophony once again. Kyrano didn’t mind. It was a beautiful day, and he could feel at peace anywhere.

#thunderfam #thunderbirds #thunderbirds 1965 #thunderbirds fanfiction #kyrano thunderbirds #virgil tracy #alan tracy #gordon tracy #thundertober #thundertober 2023 #sky writes stuff

16 notes · View notes

allexthakatt · 2 years

Text

Dance of Death

Okay, so I've been (like everyone else) absolutely in LOVE with Mr. Eddie Munson! And I just needed to join the fanfic party.

Also yes I know Dance of Death came out in 2008 but for this fic let's just pretend it came out in 1983 with Peace of Mind, okay?

Anyone that knows me, knows that my all time favorite band is Iron Maiden. And a certain song popped in my head while thinking of storylines. I hope this is adequate, it's very late 😅

PAIRING: Eddie Munson x FEM! HISPANIC! Reader!

WARNINGS: A mention of racism, but nothing explicit. Jason, because he needs a warning 🙄. Bullies are ew.

CONTENT: ANGST, Seemingly unrequited love, Dustin being the very bestest friend ever! Ending in fluff!

---------------------------------

There was something about him. Something that made her lose all brain function to act normally. There isn't a thing he could do wrong in her eyes. Edward Munson. The name alone made her blush. How could she not? There's just something about him...

Could it be his messy long hair? His rock and roll style? His sense of humor? His love and care for his friends? The was he defends her so easily and so often? Who knows, actually.

She'd hadn't known him that long. The beginning of her second senior year (not meeting requirements to graduate the first time), his third. Right off the bat she wasnt accepted in most friend groups. Her coming from a whole other state, well away from the tiny secluded town that is Hawkins, Indiana. Not to mention she's one of the only Hispanic people in the high school in general. It also didn't help that she dressed all in black all the time. No one really cared enough to look her way, outright avoiding her to some extent. She's the new kid on the block, she understood that much. Why no one bothered to befriend her was a whole new experience.

Her pervious town was just outside Juarez, Mexico. Her whole neighborhood was so welcoming, never letting her feel left out of the festivities that went on in school. Here? In Hawkins? It felt like she was ghost. A ghost no one liked or wanted around. A certain Jason Carver particularly wasn't fond of her. Him and his petty group of friends would go out of their way to make her day worse. Shouting names, "accidentally" bumping into her in the hallways, going as far to spill his drink on her occasionally. She still keeps a change of clothes in her locker just in case.

She had been on her own those first two months. Hating every minute of it, wishing she could just go back home. It had been a particularly rough day with Jason when two freshmen had seen enough. Jason and his bully buddies had just pushed her to ground, kicking her backpack before laughing and walking away. She'd been humiliated, defeated, just wanting to cry in the bathroom. The two young boys bent down to help her pick up her things, introducing themselves as Dustin and Mike. The boys were her first friends. Sure, they were younger, but they'd been the only ones to show her kindness so far.

It had been a week after that they'd introduce her to the Hellfire Club. Jeff and Gareth welcomed her right away, interested in her culture and language. Lucas didn't mind her really, being a little preoccupied trying to get on the good side of the basketball team. Eddie, however, was absolutely smitten. She was everything he'd want in a woman. Someone he related to in many ways. She didn't live with her parents, her grandma taking her in after a falling out between the family. She loved rock, she played the drums, and was so. fucking. funny. Why hadn't he noticed her before?

Now, all those months later, they were all good friends. She finally felt like she found her people. Her little family in this swarm of assholes that flooded the school. Sure, Jason and his stupid gang still messed with her. But nothing could truly brings her down if Hellfire could pick her back up.

Senior prom was coming up, and although she didn't have a date, she was secretly hoping Eddie would ask her. The one person she'd put up with prom for. She'd do anything for him, honestly. There was a million reasons not to go to prom, but if Eddie was going? That was the one reason to go.

Her hope was dwindling, however. She'd noticed earlier that day a miss Chrissy Cunningham slip a note in Eddie's locker. That was out of the ordinary, considering she was a part of Jason's little clique. She was nice, Y/n guessed. Never joining her past boyfriend in the harassment toward her but never putting a stop to it either. Eddie had mentioned once or twice that he used to have a liking for Chrissy, but that was in middle school. Y/n was hoping the little note was for anything but prom.

Lunch came, and everyone was sitting at their claimed table. Everyone except for Eddie. Something Jeff caught on to first. "Where the hell is Eddie? Lunch is halfway done." To that everyone looked around. "Maybe he had a deal going on today." Jareth added in. "Doubt it. It's the middle of the school day, he wouldn't take the risk." Jeff and Gareth continued going back and forth, Y/n getting too lost in her head to keep up with what they were saying. He's never late for lunch. Where could he be?

"Speak of the devil. It's about damn time, man. We need to plan for tonight!" Dustin spotted him walking up to the table. There was something about him that was different. She'd never seen that smile before, a light flush on his face along with it. He shrugged off Dustins complaint. "We'll get to the planning in a minute, Henderson. I got big news right now!" Everyone at full attention, egging him to tell the big news.

"I'm going to prom!" Y/n's jaw dropped a little. Going to prom? With who? "Really? Who's the lucky lady, huh? Who?!" Mike was eager to find out who, just as she was. "Chrissy fucking Cunningham. She just asked me like 10 minutes ago!"

She was happy for him, really she was. But in that moment she couldn't smile. She couldn't congratulate him, applaud him, nothing. She felt... Broken. Falling, falling so fast; plummeting to the cold, hard ground and no one could catch her. The only person who noticed her fall is Dustin. He'd been the only one she told about her not-so-little crush on Eddie.

Dustin looked at her with a sympathized expression. Knowing full well she wasn't okay with this. She turned to him, too. Waving her hand with a notion that she's okay. Even though they both know she very much wasn't.

"Damn! That's awesome, man. Congratulations, didn't know you had it in you to pull something like that." The boys were proud of him. Of course they were, it's Chrissy fucking Cunningham. Little miss perfect of Hawkins High. The head cheerleader, straight A's, a slim body, nice personality. Everything that Y/n was not. Nothing made her self confidence shoot down faster than this.

No wonder he'd never ask her to prom. She didn't have anything he wanted. Chrissy did.

She kept her head down. Not having enough emotional energy to keep up a conversation. Just wanting to go home. Perhaps she'll just go home after lunch.

Wait. But then she'd have to just come back anyway for Hellfire tonight. A very important campaign to not only Eddie, but the rest of the boys too. Not to mention Dustin's lecture he'd give her about skipping it. She'd never hear the end of it.

The boys never stopped talking about Eddie "The Freak" Munson going to prom with Chrissy Cunningham. Not really having the heart to hear anymore of this, she stands up to throw her food away. She barely ate. "I'm gonna head to the library, kay? I have some catching up to do on Mr. Kellins paper." Without another word, she makes a bee line to the door.

"Mr. Kellins has a paper due?" Jeff not really getting the hint that she just wanted to leave. Dustin opted to follow her, knowing she'll probably want to vent. He looked up to her, like the big sister he never had. He was protective, odd as it is. To be protective of someone 4 years older than you. She wasn't blood, but he considered her family nonetheless.

Eddie noticed her change in behavior as well. He saw the rush she was in to leave, and Dustin's departure after her. Figuring Dustin would tell him later, he turns back to Jareth, who's bragging how he also got a prom date.

"Y/n? Are you okay?" She was in the back of the library, sitting on the floor with a random book in her hand. A book she probably grabbed just to have a reason to be here. "Honestly, Dust? Not really." Her legs are shaking slightly, trying her very hardest not to cry. What's her problem? Its not like she and Eddie are dating, he can go to prom with whoever the fuck he wants.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. He's an idiot for taking Chrissy and not you. A huge one." He tries his best to make her smile, but to no avail. "See that's the thing, Dust. He hasn't seen me. He probably just thinks of me as his sister or some shit. I'm nothing more than one of the boys. That's all I'll ever be." He could hear the heartache in her voice the tears she's kept in for so long. She'd let slip a couple months ago that all the boys she ever liked never liked her back. She called herself 'not traditionally pretty.' He assumed she meant like she wasn't like the pretty girls that got all the dates. Her skin was darker, her body was fuller, her hair was crazier. Boys never looked her way, it had been chipping away at her self esteem for years, Eddie was just the icing on the cake.

Dustin sits next to her, his back leaning on the bookshelf behind them. "Y/n, like I said. He's an idiot. He needs shit spelled out her him to even get it through his head. I know he likes you. Not like one of the guys, either. He really likes you. I know it." Y/n wants to believe him. But there was a voice in the back of her head. If that was true, why was he going with Chrissy and not her?

"Are you going to prom?" Dustin asks. She shakes her head. "What, and see them dancing all close together? Seeing them be like a couple? No fucking thank you. I'm gonna stay home. I wanna practice a new song." Figuring changing the subject to something she loved to do, he asks "What new song?" She perks up a bit and the question. "It's not really new, but Iron Maiden has a song called Dance of Death. I've been wanting to try it out for some time now. What better time than now?" They continue chatting for a bit more until the bell rings, signalling lunch was over and to head to class. Before they went their separate ways, Y/n game Dustin a hug. "Thank you. For checking up on me. I really appreciate it." Dustin hugs her back, "of course, Y/n. You're like a sister to me. I'm not just gonna leave you to cry in the library all alone." She laughs a bit at this, giving him one last squeeze. "I'll see you later, Dust."

It was right after school. Dustin, Mike, and Eddie were preparing for Hellfire. "So, you wanna tell me what was wrong with Y/n earlier?" Eddie started up the conversation. He'd tried to track her down after class, but to no avail.

"No." It was fast and a little bit venomous. Dustin was furious as him. How could he not be?! Eddie was tossing aside treasure to get with a nickel. He had no idea the pain he'd been causing Y/n. Even if he did, would he care?

Eddie looks up from the table. "What? Why not?" Mikes listening intently from the side, trying not to intervene. "Because it's her privacy. She's going through something right now and it's not my place to spill the beans. If you wanna know so bad maybe actually talk her." His attitude was showing through, and he didn't mean for it to come out so mean. He's just protective of his best friend.

"Hey, dude, I'm just asking. Kay? No need to get your feathers ruffled." Eddie tries to make the room fun again, cracking a joke at the end. He can't seem to shake this feeling, though. One he can't really pinpoint as to why. There's something wrong with Y/n? She always goes to him about her problems. Why can't she just come to him now?

"Hey guys!" Y/n was the first to arrive, slight red eyes with makeup piled on top of it. Enough for Eddie and Dustin to pick up on it, but not enough to say anything.

"Hey Y/n, we're just setting up now. You're pretty early today." Mike wants to break free of the tension that was currently in the room. "Yeah... I wanted to get here before Jason found me in the hallways again." She internally cringes at the remembrance of what happened last week when he saw her. He tripped her, calling her some racist name he could think of in the moment and then laughed in her face. She didn't think Jason was actually racist, but just wanting to hurt her in any way he can. Or maybe he was, she didn't really care enough to know.

"Carver can choke on a dick. He has no right to harass you the way he does." He's angry, of course he is. The way he's so quick to defend her makes that sparkle of hope shine once more. That is until she remembers that prom is in literally two weeks and he's going, but not with her.

"What can you do, huh? Let's finish setting up, kay?" She sets her bag down and avoids eye contact, ignoring the strange looks she gets from Eddie throughout the night.

That was probably the worst end to a campaign ever for her. She was thrown so off her game she died 15 minutes in. Spending the rest of her time just following along and giving advice when needed. God, she just wanted to go home.

Finally walking to her car, she was stopped by a concerned metalhead. "Y/n! Are you okay? You've been... Distant today." He desperately wanted to know what was wrong without pushing her too far.

"I'm fine Eddie. Just wanna go home, okay?" She tries to leave the situation as soon as possible, but Eddie refuses to leave it at that. "But Dustin said you're going through something. Whatever it is you know can talk to me too, right?" Y/n pauses, contemplating her answer. "I'm sure I can, Ed. Please just let go of my arm." He didn't even realize he had a hold on her, quickly letting go. "Just... Y/n don't leave me out of it, okay? I'm here for you, whatever way you need me."

Yeah but the way I need you you don't even want.

"I'll see you later, Ed." She gets in her car and drives off. Leaving Eddie in the parking lot alone.

The two weeks flew by like nothing. Eddie and Chrissy spending more time together alone, Y/n opting to take her lunches in the library, not wanting to see the boy she loved with someone much prettier than her. Dustin tries his best being there for her, spending every other day in the library with her.

"She actually changed my grade from a D- to an A! Can you believe that?" Dustin's blabbing about something Suzie did for him, she wasn't really paying attention. "Hey! Y/n! Are you even listening to me?" He claps his hands in front of her, snapping her out of her head.

"Sorry! Sorry! Just zoned out over here." She looked to the side, avoiding eye contact with the freshman. Knowing he'll know exactly what's on her mind. "Is it Eddie again?" Slowly she nodded, not wanting to cry. "Prom is in two days and all Eddie can talk about Chrissy. Chrissy this, Chrissy that. That's all I fucking hear about and I feel like I'm losing my mind. Imagine if Suzie kept talking about some guy that you thought was so much better than you. Wouldn't you be hurt too?"

Dustin nods slowly. Of course he would be. He really likes Suzie, and the the thought of her fawning over someone else made him sad.

"I don't think I'm gonna make it to Hellfire tonight, Dust. Not given what's going on. I think I just gotta get over him. How? I have no clue." The younger boy stands up, "What? But the ending of the cult of Vecna is tonight! What about the campaign?" She looks up at him sadly. "I promise you guys can do it without me. I just don't think I'd be much help tonight." Her voice drops, and it's then and there that Dustin realizes the full extent of her situation.

She's completely in love with him. And he's got his eyes on someone else.

He knew he had to do something. What that was? He didn't know. What he did know was that he hated seeing someone he cared about crying alone in the library. She was broken, lost. Not knowing where to go from here.

"sigh... Promise me you'll try your best to feel better okay?" She smiled softly at him, ruffling up his hair. "I promise, Dust." From that moment, he knew he couldn't keep quiet about this anymore.

Hellfire had just finished, not ending on a very high note, but hopeful nevertheless. The only ones left were Eddie and Dustin, deciding it was how or never.

"You're a idiot, Eddie." That caught him off guard. Sure, Dustin had been a little off today, but Eddie figured it was some freshman puberty thing. Not an Eddie thing.

"Excuse me?" Eddie stood up, approaching the younger boy with a confused look on his face. "You heard me. Do you even want to go to prom this year?" Prom? This whole thing was about prom?

"I mean not originally, no. But Chrissy really wants to go so.. Why the hell not, ya know?" Dustin was having none of it, his patience running thin. "You told me you don't even like Chrissy anymore. Why are you so damn hung up on her now of all times?" The room was getting tense.

"Hey. She asked me. I just said yes. It's not like I had bigger plans anyway." It wasn't a lie. He guesses he'd probably be in his room alone that night anyway. Unless Y/n would've wanted to do anything, in that case it was a whole new situation.

"What about Y/n? Do you even are about her anymore?" Dustin stood up from his chair. "What are you talking about? Of course I care about her!" The freshman scoffed, "You have a pretty funny way of showing it. You've been practically ignoring her since Chrissy came in the picture. I bet you barley even noticed she didn't come to hellfire today, huh?"

Of course Eddie noticed. It was the main reason team morale was down, the reason they'd all had retreated the fight. Their best girl and fighter wasn't there. "I did notice actually. I also noticed she hasn't been coming to lunch with us either. AND that no one seems to know the real reason except you. So why don't you just tell me what's really going on, Henderson. Enlighten me."

"She's in love with you, dumbass!"

Quiet. Neither of them breaking the deafening silence that engulfed the room. Dustin was mad, furious even, that Eddie had been so oblivious to the pain he'd been causing her.

"What?" Eddie couldn't believe it. Love? She actually loved him back? Why hadn't she said anything before? Why didn't he say anything before?

It all made sense. Chrissy. Prom. Y/n. That's why Y/n was so distant. He was going to prom, but with Chrissy. Not her.

"Y/n has been heartbroken the last two weeks! She can't even go to lunch because all you talk about is Chrissy. Chrissy Chrissy Chrissy. We get it, you wanna get in Chrissy's pants. But for gods sake, man, think! She sits in the library all alone because that's where she'd rather be than sitting in the cafeteria listening to how much she isn't what you want."

Dustin was about to explode. All the pent up anger was coming out. His brotherly protectiveness showing full scale, and Eddie deserved it all.

How could he be so blind? So stupid?

"Why... How come she never said anything? I-" His thoughts getting jumbled in his head. "She said she didn't wanna destroy the friendship. But Eddie, I'm gonna be honest, I think that's happening anyway." Eddie's heart shatters. The girl of his dreams, the person he'd do anything for. His very reason to keep coming to school! She's hurting, broken, thinking he doesn't care for her, love her.

And it's all his fault.

How could he fix this? It wasn't like he could just snap his fingers and change back time to before Chrissy asked him to prom. Oh how he wished he could do that.

"You're wrong about one thing, Henderson. She is what I want. Hell, she's all I want! Chrissy... I said yes because I didn't think Y/n would want to go, let alone with me." Dustin shakes his head. "Okay? You should've at least made sure before putting her through all of this shit. This is stuff you need to be telling her. Not me!"

"I know! I know! Shit, I don't know how I'm gonna fix this..." Eddie deflates, sitting down with his hands in his face. "I really fucked up, didn't I?" Dustin sits next to him, patting his friend on the shoulder. "Yeah, you did. But on the bright side, you know she likes you back now, right? Now figure out the next move."

The night of prom. Tonight. A night full of excitement and adventure for most. But for Y/n, it'll just be a regular Saturday. She'd skipped school the day prior, Opting for a quiet day in to collect herself. Mostly to avoid Eddie at all costs, not sure if she could really handle it.

Eddie had waited in the library for her to show up for lunch that day, hoping to explain everything, but she never showed. He instead got weird glances from the scattered students and librarian, not used to seeing Eddie in a place like a library.

He also waited after school, but gave up after noticing her car nowhere to be seen. Chrissy had found him instead, confused as to why he'd been standing sadly in the parking lot for ten minutes. It was there Eddie told her everything. Why lie? She'd deserved to know the truth too.

Chrissy had initially been disappointed, but came clean as well. Confessing she still had feelings for Jason, and was hoping to just make him jealous by showing up to prom with Eddie. They then had the mutual decision to just stay peers, nothing more. Something that took a huge chunk of weight off of Eddies chest.

Now prom was merely hours away, and Eddie was thinking of a plan. Best case scenario, he proclaims his love and sorries, she forgives him, and they get together and live happily ever after. Worst case scenario, anything other than that.

Y/n had been in the middle of the song when Eddie comes bursting in the room. Her grandma had taken quite a liking toward Eddie, Y/n guesses she's the one who let him in the house.

"Y/n! Please I need to talk to you." He was nervous, anxiety ridden. Hoping for the best but preparing for the worst. Y/n stands up from her drum set, walking past him to her water bottle. "I'm a little busy right now, Ed."

Eddie approaches her, hoping his confession would work. "Just... Hear me out, okay? Please?" She nods at him, praying this is just something that has to do with hellfire.

"I'm not going to prom with Chrissy." Her ears perked up at this. "Okay, so? You came all this way to tell me just that?" She didn't mean to keep up the attitude, but she didn't want to get her hopes up, either.

"I also know why you've been so distant. I know... Everything. I know you're feelings for me and I know how hurt you've been these past weeks. And Y/n I'm so so sorry. I wish I would've seen it sooner." He was staring in her eyes, searching for any kind of response.

"How do you know?" Tears were filling her eyes, she had no idea why. Raw emotion was building up without her consent.

He smiles at her softly, "A little birdie told me." She backs up, tossing her drumsticks on the chair. "Fucking Henderson, man. He can't keep a secret for shit." She'd confided in him, told him all her fears, insecurities, worries. All with the hopes of him keeping it between them. She felt a little hurt, but she can't help but feel a weight lift off her shoulders. Now everything was out in the open, and she could face rejection head on.

"Hey don't be mad him, I needed to know. Boy did he let me know, too. He'd probably have my head on a stick if I wasn't here right now." She laughs slightly. Dustin always acted like an older brother, despite her being 4 years older than he was. Never stopped their bond as family, though.

"Why are you here, Eddie? You couldn't tell me you didn't like me back on Monday?" He grabs her hands, holding them together, close to his chest. "That's the thing, Y/n. I do like you back. Just as much if not more than you like me." He's pleading with his eyes for her to listen, to understand. She shakes her head, looking anywhere but him.

"Eddie, that makes no sense. If that was true why were you going with her to begin with? Why wait 'til two hours before prom to confess your love for me?" He holds her tighter, "I should've told you all this a long time ago, and I'm so sorry, baby. I was scared. Hell, I still am! You're so beautiful it's intimidating. Why would someone as drop dead gorgeous as you like a freak like me?"

She laughs and looks down, tears falling freely now. "We're both freaks, dummy. I was planning on spending the whole night right here on the drums." He places a hand on her cheek, softly stroking it. "If you'd let me, could I join you?"

Their foreheads inch closer together, both of them being highly aware of the distance getting smaller. "What, you don't wanna go to prom?" Smaller. "Not if you're not there, babe." Smaller. "Then stay here with me." Smaller. "Gladly."

The distance is gone, her lips finally on his and it's. fucking. amazing. Nothing had been as sweet as her, or soft as him. It was like 2 pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly together like they were made for each other. Hands starting to roam, but before anything else could happen, breathing was a necessity.

Their foreheads leaning on each other once again. The tension now completely gone, all that's left is a room full of love and adoration. Both of them waiting so long to finally be here in the moment, neither of them wanting to let go just yet.

"So... Wanna show me what song you're playing?"

---------------------------------

Ahhhhh I'm so proud of this tbh I love Eddie so goddamn much I've never related to someone so much honestly.

Let me know what you think! Love you 😘

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie my beloved #eddie x reader #stranger things

110 notes · View notes

1lostsoul0fishbowl · 5 months

Text

“Move it, Weirdo Girl.” A rough elbow jostled El aside as Jimmy Peterson, the meanest kid in the entire tenth grade, pushed past her. He was of course closely followed by his equally nasty sidekicks, Thomas and Paul, who also made a point to shove El even though she was no longer in their way.

If you wrong Losty or Losty’s favorite sibling, you will end up in a fic with a bully named after you. All three of these bullies’ names came from Dudes Who Done Us Wrong.

Oh, no. El’s heart sank. Thanksgiving with the Wheelers had been awful. It had felt like the longest day of her entire life. She was a little afraid of Ted Wheeler; he was always grouchy and he didn’t seem to like her very much, and he definitely hadn’t liked it that she was intruding on what was meant to be a day for family.

I definitely headcanon El as being more than a little afraid of Ted Wheeler! His constant sarcasm would make her feel so unbalanced and insecure.

But then, to El’s complete astonishment, Mike shoved aside his lunch tray and jumped up so abruptly that he knocked his chair over backwards. “Fine. Whatever,” he shouted. “Do what you want. You guys all saw me try, though, right? So this time when you run and tattle to Steve”— he directed this at Dustin— “make sure you tell him I don’t wanna hear any more of his fucking lectures. Tell him that I tried to be nice and she said no. I’m sick of this.”

Poor Steve will never escape Wheeler relationship drama!!! 😂

“Janie, please talk to me,” Gareth begged. “What can I do to make you feel better?” She looked up to study him as if seeing him for the first time, taking in his sweet chubby face and his kind anxious eyes, so full of concern, and she didn’t want to tell him there wasn’t anything that anyone could do to make her feel better.

“What can I do to make you feel better?” appears for the first time here, but quickly becomes a recurring theme throughout Gareth and El’s relationship— in direct contrast to Mike, who’s never particularly bothered about what’s upsetting El and if there’s anything he can do to help.

(Also I had to sneak in a “sweet chubby face” there because omg the cheeks on that boy. Gareth totally brings out my inner southern grandma.)

“Say that again,” he hissed, stepping closer, and much to El’s surprise the mean boys were actually retreating in the face of this direct challenge. “Go ahead, I fucking dare you.”

Jimmy tried to rally. “What are you gonna do about it, Junior Freak?” he retorted. “Gonna put one of your satanic curses on me?”

—chapter seven

I had a whole thing about Eddie being the original Freak and then gradually his followers being given derivative Freak nicknames by the jocks and bullies of the school. Bullies aren’t known for being creative, though, so Grant and Jeff were undoubtedly just Fat Freak and Midnight Freak, and then later Gareth as the baby of the group got the most uncreative name of all, Junior Freak. It didn’t really make sense once the other guys graduated, but it stuck regardless.

#next time i fall: directors cut #el hopper #mike wheeler #the cracks in their foundation are getting too big to repair #gareth emerson #i’m weirdly obsessed with his pudgy little face i’ll admit it

2 notes · View notes

cg29fics · 1 year

Text

Gone

Had issues with previous updates, so if you’re reading along you may want to check out the links for previous chapters. The full complete fic is also available via FF.Net & A03 - CreativeGirl29

Tagging 🔖 Sorry if I’ve missed anyone - If you would like to be tagged in these updates then please let me know and I’ll add you to the list.

@janetm74 @drileyf @katblu42 @psychoseal @weirdburketeer @alexthefly @misstb2 @thundergeek59 @burningcowboyhoagietaco @dragonoffantasyandreality

NOTE: Medical details were researched with additional help coming from a friend who worked in a hospital.

Previous. Chapter 35

Chapter 36. Arrested.

Scott looked at his brother lying unconscious on the bed. “Virg, don’t do this!” He begged, shaking him. “Please wake up!”

“Scott, I need you to move now!” Dr Sylvia ordered.

Scott quickly moved to where the rest of his family were now standing and watched helplessly as his brother's face began to turn grey. Upon gaining clear access, Doctor Sylvia immediately felt for a pulse with his one hand and pressed the emergency button with the other.

Within seconds, two nurses immediately rushed into the room. “What happened?” The one asked, grabbing an emergency bag and handing the doctor a Guedel’s airway.

“Respiratory arrest!” Doctor Sylvia stated, inserting the airway into Virgil’s throat. “Call the MERT team now!”

“On my way!” The other nurse said running out of the room.

“And call security!” Doctor Sylvia shouted after her. He grabbed the air-viva bag from the nurse, placed the mask over Virgil’s face, and rhythmically squeezed breaths into Virgil’s lungs. After a few seconds, although he was currently still lifeless, Virgil’s colour began to slowly improve.

“Do we know what happened?” The nurse questioned, as they continued to work together to keep Virgil alive.

Doctor Gerry Sylvia indicated the discarded syringe that had been abandoned by Virgil’s IV. “This man,” Doctor Sylvia replied, indicating the unconscious Hood who was still slumped on the floor, “he was seen injecting an unknown substance into Virgil’s drip.”

“His he okay?” The nurse asked beginning to move towards the Hood.

“He’ll be fine, Virgil's the one not breathing… We can deal with him later!” Doctor Gerry Sylvia ordered.

The nurse nodded, snapped on some gloves and placed the syringe in a kidney dish. Meanwhile, the other nurse hurried back into the room and quickly informed them that the MERT team were now on their way.

Gerry glanced worriedly at the family as he continuously worked on Virgil. “Nurse, can you take them into the hallway?”

“Of course!” The nurse replied observing the family, who were now in various stages of shock. “Can you please follow me?” None of them moved, oblivious to the nurse, as they all remained transfixed on Virgil. “This way!” She repeated.

Scott was the first to awaken from the haze he was under. “No, I’m not leaving him!” He stammered, beginning to shake from the shock at seeing his younger brother looking so lifeless.

The nurse smiled sympathetically. “I understand that you don’t want to leave him, but the doctors will need the space to work on your brother, okay?”

Scott bowed his head and with tears in his eyes moved out of the room, his brothers and his grandma following closely behind, each of them in a dazed state.

“Sir, this way.” The nurse requested, noticing Jeff hadn't moved, and was now staring furiously at the Hood. “Sir, you really need to come with me… Don’t worry about that man, we’ll make sure that security deals with him!”

“This man,” Jeff growled, “this man, is the reason my son is in this hospital. He’s tortured him… And put him through so much physical and emotional pain! And now… Now he’s gone and hurt him again… And this time… My son might actually die!” Jeff’s voice trailed off as he felt tears of rage beginning to swell up in his eyes.

“Sir, please come with me!” The nurse urged once more.

Reaching down Jeff grabbed the Hood by the scruff of his collar. “Oh, I'm coming nurse… And so is he!” Jeff snapped, flinging the Hood into the hallway. Jeff began charging towards him, coming to an immediate stop, when he saw the MERT team making their way into Virgil’s room with the resuscitation trolley. “Oh, God… No!” Jeff cried sinking to the floor.

The MERT team raced into the room and within seconds they had immediately pulled the bed away from the wall, removed the bed head, and ensured that Virgil was lying flat. Doctor Sylvia gave a quick synopsis of Virgil’s condition to the ICU doctor, who had arrived with the MERT team, while continuing to bag oxygen into Virgil. The ICU doctor began listening to Virgil’s chest, while the nurses placed electrodes onto him, took his obs, inserted extra fluids into his IV, and checked his pupils.

“Okay, let’s intubate! Give him 10 of Vec.” The ICU doctor ordered.

The nurse drew up some fluids into a syringe and injected it into Virgil’s drip, she then opened some draws on the resuscitation trolley, taking out numerous pieces of equipment and handing them to the doctor. Within seconds, the ICU doctor inserted a clear plastic tube into Virgil's throat and immediately attached it to another machine.

As soon as the MERT team had gone into Virgil’s room, the nurse who had taken them outside helped Jeff to his feet, leading him and the rest of the family further up the corridor, and away from the distressing scenes. “The doctor will come out and talk to you as soon as he can. Will you be okay while I just check on these two?” She questioned, indicating the two security guards who were now waking up after being knocked out.

“Yes,” Ruth Tracy nodded, taking a comforting hold of Jeff’s arm.

“Good.” The Nurse replied.

Scott glared at the two Security Guards, instantly stopping when he saw the glazed look in their eyes. “They were hypnotised.”

“Doesn’t surprise me!” John frowned, glaring at the Hood, who was now beginning to regain consciousness. “Hey!” He yelled when he noticed the Hood starting to get up. “Where do you think, you’re going?” John stormed towards the Hood, seized him by the throat, pinned him against the wall, and leaned aggressively into his face. “What did you give my brother?” The Hood remained silent, shocked at the suddenness in which he had been grabbed. “What did you give him?”

The Hood let out a chilling laugh. “That would be telling!”

“Tell me!” John threatened, clutching the Hood's throat even tighter.

“Can’t breathe!” The Hood gasped, struggling against the tightness that was now being applied to his neck.

“Neither can my brother!” John roared, delivering a sharp punch to his stomach. “Now, what did you give him?”

“Come on Sir, I think he’s had enough!” The nurse ordered, trying to pull John away from the Hood.

“Yes, and so as my brother!” John retorted back, delivering another sharp blow to the Hood’s stomach. “He’s all yours!” John grunted, throwing the Hood back onto the floor, before making his way back over to his dad, grandma and brothers who were all staring at him completely stunned by the reaction the normally placid man had displayed.

The nurse began examining the Hood, while another security guard, who had just arrived, made sure he didn’t try to run. A few moments later, Doctor Gerry Sylvia made his way out of the room and headed towards Jeff.

Upon seeing the Doctor, the Hood let out a chilling laugh. “We did all that we could!” He cackled.

Doctor Sylvia stared at the Hood, shook his head, and focussed his attention on Jeff and his family.

“How’s my boy?” Jeff asked, terrified at what he may be told.

“He’s stable for now!”

“What?” The Hood snarled. While Jeff, his mother and all four boys released an intense breath of relief, each one trying to hold back the tears.

Ignoring the Hood, Doctor Sylvia continued. “As you know Virgil stopped breathing and because of this the ICU Doctor had to intubate him. Basically, he’s put a tube in his throat and a ventilator is now breathing for him and he will be taken to the Intensive Care Unit shortly. Thankfully, his heart rate and rhythm are still normal, and his pupils are also reacting as they should. This gives us a good indication that we managed to get oxygen to him in time and that his brain function will be okay. Unfortunately, at this stage we don’t know what he was given. However, once he’s in the ICU ward they will be able to investigate and see what further treatment is required.”

“When can I see him?” Jeff questioned.

“They are just prepping Virgil to be moved now, you will be able to see him as he goes past, but they won’t be able to stop. Someone will show you the way to the ward, and once you are there you will have to remain in the waiting room while they set everything up. As soon as Virgil is settled then you will be able to be with him then.”

Jeff shook Doctor Sylvia’s hand, thanking him for all that he had done.

Doctor Sylvia turned towards the nurse. “Have you seen Doctor Sanderson and Nurse Andrews anywhere? When the nurse shook her head Doctor Sylvia frowned. “If you do can you please tell them I would like to see them both in my office?”

The Hood released a mocking laugh which resonated down the hallway. “Oh no! Looks like the game is up!” Everyone looked at the Hood in confusion. “Oh, come on!” He started. “The doc here's obviously worked out something is going on with that doctor and nurse!”

“What are you saying?” Jeff demanded.

“Do you really think I managed to gain access to the hospital and Virgil’s room without any help… Think about it?” The Hood let out another mocking laugh. “Nurse Maria Andrews or Doctor Emily Sanderson… One of those two women helped me… She was even in the room before you showed up… And she certainly wasn’t hypnotised… She’s been very willing to help me this entire time! Don’t you think it’s weird that they are not here right now? Obviously one of them as got a genuine excuse… But the other… Well, I’m sure she will come up with something convincing!”

All of them gazed at each other, surprised at the accusations that had been made against Nurse Andrews and Doctor Emily Sanderson who they had all trusted. The Hood grinned to himself when everyone’s focus, including the security guard who had been watching him closely, shifted. Sensing his only opportunity, the Hood attempted to make his escape.

“Quick… He’s trying to run!” Alan warned.

The security guard darted after the Hood, grabbed him around the waist and pulled him to the floor. The Hood began struggling, eventually freeing himself from the man’s grasp, and tried to run in the opposite direction, coming to a sudden halt when he saw the barricade that had been quickly formed by John and Alan. Swinging himself around with the intention of trying again in the opposite direction, the Hood now found Jeff, Scott, and Gordon with the guard blocking the other exit.

“You're not going anywhere!” Gordon snapped, knocking him to the floor.

The Hood picked himself up and snarled at Gordon, spinning himself around in a full circle desperately searching for an escape route. Eventually, the Hood charged at Alan, believing that because he was the youngest it would mean that he was the weakest.

Alan however, proved him wrong by delivering a sharp punch to his face, causing the Hood to fall backwards onto the floor. “That’s for my brother!”

“Wow… Nice left hook there Alan!” Scott remarked.

Alan grinned. “No one hurts one of my big brothers and gets away with it!”

The Hood sluggishly pulled himself to his feet and stumbled in the opposite direction, only to be stopped by Scott, forcibly pushing him back to the floor. “As my brother said… You're not going anywhere!” Scott hissed.

The Hood now glared at them all. “You will never stop me!” He taunted, clambering back to his feet and quickly spinning around again. This time he propelled himself forwards straight through John and Alan. Unluckily for the Hood, Ruth Tracy had been standing behind them, and when she saw him make his mad dash she prepared herself, and swung her heavy handbag around his face causing him to topple backwards and fall once more! Wearily pulling himself to his feet the Hood began to stare down Jeff. “I will destroy you Jeff Tracy! I’ve already done it before… I killed that precious wife of yours… I will take the life of that damn boy… And then the lives of each one of your sons… You will pay Jeff Tracy!”

Jeff shook his head as the Hood continued to babble on, making all kinds of further threats against him and his family. Finally, Jeff had simply had enough. “Oh, shut up!” He stated, delivering another blow to the Hood’s face, which rendered him unconscious once more.

The nurse, who had hidden out of arms way, scurried forwards and quickly checked the Hood over, confirming to the security guard that he was okay to be moved. The guard pulled the Hood up into his arms and carried him away. Stating that he was going to place him somewhere more secure until the police finally arrived. Jeff, his boys and mother all exhaled in relief. Glad that the Hood had finally be taken out and would soon be back in prison.

Gordon looked up and down the hallway. “Where's the doc got too?”

“I'm here,” Doctor Gerry Sylvia said stepping out of Virgil's room. “I wanted to make sure that Virgil wasn't brought out during all that commotion.” Doctor Sylvia popped his head back in the doors and said something to the team inside, then after a few seconds the doors swung open.

The family all grew silent as they watched the MERT team slowly wheel Virgil out of his room, each one of them shocked and distraught at what they were observing. Virgil was covered in wires and there was so much equipment placed on the bed and around him. These included, an oxygen cylinder, the discarded syringe which was still in the kidney dish, and a chart. There was also a monitor which was beating in time with the rhythm of his heart and another machine hushing with the movements of his chest. Amongst all this machinery lay Virgil, his eyes tightly shut. He looked small and completely helpless with the tube protruding from his mouth, and the breathing apparatus taped into position with some form of cloth, which was also wrapped firmly around his head.

In desperation to be at Virgil’s side, Jeff stepped towards him but was immediately held back by Doctor Sylvia. “Don’t worry, you can be with him soon!”

Jeff stopped himself and pushed his hands through his hair, frustrated at not being able to escort his son to the ICU.

“Could you please escort the family?” Doctor Sylvia asked the nurse.

“Of course,” she confirmed.

Doctor Sylvia faced Jeff. “Okay, the nurse here will be taking you to the ICU… I will make sure you are kept updated on when the Hood is taken into custody and I’ll let you know what's happening with Doctor Sanderson and Nurse Andrews.”

“Thank you.” Jeff replied, looking anxious to leave.

The nurse smiled at the family. “Are you all ready?”

Jeff nodded, took his mother’s hand, and signalled for his boys to follow the nurse.

… …

Meanwhile: The Hood’s Hideout.

The woman stood watching the monitors, that had previously been set up for the Hood. She had decided to retreat here after the family had shown up. Safe in the knowledge that the Hood would get his revenge, but now everything that could have gone wrong, had! She breathed out in frustration, gazing at her now bandaged hand, that Virgil had bitten. Not only had the Hood's plan failed, he had gone and got himself arrested, and had also suggested that either herself or her work colleague were an accomplice. “How could he do that?” She growled. She should have guessed that he would betray her. The man was notorious! The amount of people who had helped him in the past, who had ended up either dead or in jail was exceptionally high. Although, the small percent that had come through for him had been handsomely rewarded. So, she had decided to take the risk, believing that she had the potential to pull things off! But she had failed, spectacularly, and had come out of it with zero monetary gain. Continuing to ponder her thoughts, she reflected on her past. She had pulled of other schemes before and managed to get away, free of any information regarding her involvement being known. This time however, it was entirely her own fault! She had not followed her usual protocols and because of the cockiness she had displayed at allowing him to see her face there was a strong possibility that she would be arrested. Pacing the room, she continued to reflect over what needed to be done. She knew that she needed to make sure that any plan she did form succeeded. The easy part would be securing her innocence with everyone. Well, ‘manipulating and lying to people were her speciality.’ The second part though, that wouldn't be so easy to implement! Now that Virgil was on the ICU ward, it would be difficult to gain any sort of access to him, but she knew that she didn’t have a choice. She didn’t want to go to prison! Eventually, a beaming smile spread across her face. Whatever she did, she knew that she could and would turn things around. Virgil, may have had the audacity to go and survive but she would make sure that she finally silenced him once and for all!

Next C37. Waiting Room

NEXT: Chapter 37.

Next. Chapter 37. Waiting Room

Next. Chapter 37. Waiting Room.

#thunderbirds fanfiction #cg29fics #thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds original series #tagficgone #Whump #thunderbirds fandom #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderwhump #tag fic

13 notes · View notes

nunesbytko · 1 year

Text

Netflix- Dahmer- Monster- The Jeff Dahmer Story- Episode Eight- “LIONEL”

Episode Eight- Lionel

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Trigger warning [Suicide mention]

Back to Lionel crying at the station.

He asks to see his son, they permit it.

Jeff apologises, his dad as you can imagine is in bits. He tells him that he needs help. He believes his son can get better.

Lionels trying to pick his brain, asking him why. He doesn't know.

Jeff tries to tell him about the roadkill and Lionel gets triggered and completely takes it the wrong way. He's clearly blaming himself.

Joyce Jeff's mother is getting hounded by the press.

She's working with LGBT men, introduces herself as "Joyce Flint" gets emotional at work.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lionel can't sleep. He hasn't slept in 5 days. He's blaming Joyce for all the pills that ruined Jeff. He's raging, blaming Joyce for everything. Shari comforts him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The police have closed off Jeff's Grandma's house. She has dementia now and Lionel has to go to help her. Police and press are outside and inside.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Reverend Jackson does a march of solidarity with the victims families.

The Reverend is preaching the truth. But I used he's being coached by the police as well? He knows how to get a crowd going.

The Konerack cops, Balzerack and Gabrish are both put on paid leave. They complain and say they are going to fight this [ Really, they should have been FIRED, FIRED, but hey what do I know?]

Victims are going on TV,

A blacked out guest makes an accusation that Jeff was abused by Lionel.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lionel meets up with Jeff and his lawyer to try to convince Jeff to put through an insanity plea. Jeff said that he knew what he was doing, that he wasn't crazy. But his dad pushes for this change, telling him about the Ed Gein case. He's already read about Gein in a comic book.

Lionel is blaming comic book culture now

The Judge turns down the insanity plea.

Outside of the courtroom Joyce and Lionel have a shouting match.,

Joyce goes to the Grandmother of one of his victims [Curtis Straughter] to ask them to put in a good word for Jeff???

Whaaaaaatttttt???????

----------------------------------------------------------------

Victims impact statement are read out.

I feel for Glenda

Lionel meets Jeff and breaks down finally blaming himself in part for what happened.

Joyce tries to kill herself.

Lionel gets the news, but he's not too bothered. But he'll call David soon. but right now he's busy typing his book on everything he's been going through.

The Konerack officers get re promoted and repaid.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes

Acting off the charts as usual

Joyce is Self centred AF!!! How dare she go to the families of the victims!!!!

Even in jail, Lionel doesn't really listen to Jeff

The Konerack police officers getting reinstated did make me sick! This did happen in real life. These officers ruined lives and nothing really happens. They get their jobs back. BACKPAY. They just go back to the force like nothing has happened. They should have been BANNED AND I mean BANNED from any type of umbrella term Law work.

It's just so disturbing to me!

As always Richard Jenkins makes me cry lol. This actor is frigging amazeballs. Every scene!!!

My favourite scenes.........

#Dahmer on Neflix #Dahmer #episode 8 #Episode Eight Lionel #Lionel feels the guilt #Joyce feels the heat #The Trial #The blame game #Molly Ringwald

2 notes · View notes

sullys-nose-hair · 2 years

Text

Jeffy weffy uwu boi x quirky reader @xxcha0t1c-racc00nxx @tinitortellini @oreosplease @nonotthebasement 🥺🥺🥺

Taking my Shrek picture out I slapped it on the wall and looked at it.

My little Jeffy Weffy is out killing so I could finally put up by Here pic, for how at least.

For some reason Jeff never really liked me even glancing at other men🥺🥺🥺🥺 but he just gets a little quirky sometimes like me🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪

God I'm so brockean and quirky, all the girls at my school make fun of me for being emo while all the guys wanted to put their badussy destroyers in my guak guak 2000.

They girls were all but jealous of my PERFECT personality and my BIG FAT ass that made bomb noises everytime I walked and my BIG breasts that made the guys kouths water and my skinny 0000000000.1 cm waist and flat stomach🥺

They was all just jealous of how PERFECT I am, Jeffy weffy was the only one that understood me😔

Even if he killed my parents I could care less. My sister, brother, mother, father, grandma, grandpa, bed, fish, dog, cat and my floor all abused my SEXY self anyway. They was just all jealous of me🥺🥺

But a jeffy weffy took them away which made me scream and shout out of sadness sbc even if they all abused me I loved them🥺🥺🥺

Moaning in my CUTE voice as I shifted on my place on the floor I gasped CUTELY AND FEMINENLIY voice we the door burst open, revealing Jeff in his full crusty Glory, crusty falling to the floor as he stood there towering over my 00000.1cm frame with his tall 100000000ft tall form that made my toes curl. I've always been sentive.

I had gotten to the point where I would cum a billion times when I were to take a shower, especially when I was cleaning my 15 fr look booty hairs. 🥺

Men always wanted to pull and pick the shit out of my booty hair but me being the PERFECT person I am rejected them🥺🥺 only I should do that.

That was until my Jeffy weffy came around, now only he can itch, touch, braid and pick the shit out of my 1000 ft long booty hair.

Glaring down at me HANDSOMELY AND SEXILY he SEXILY smirked down at my 000000.1 cm frame, laughing in his SEXY, DEEP, EASY BUT SMOOTH voice that had me cumming, my booty cheeks clapping together making that bomb sound go of as tears were brought to by my eyes from the overstimulation.

"Bebeh growl, what did I say about Shrek?"

CUTELY looking up at him I responded in my cute, perfect, feminie voice.

"N-n-n-n-n-n-n-n-not t-t-t-t-t-t-t-t-tto e-e-e-e-e-e-e-e-even l-l-l-l-l-l-l-look a-a-a-a-a-a-at h-h-h-h-h-him" I CUTELY said in my submissive and breed able voice as he fmgrinnung down at me, the mile of grease and crusty below him getting bigger as he did so.

"Tha what I thoug bebeh growl, na get on dat bed" he handsomely replied, laughing with that sexy voice that made my toes curl and my legs shake as I came again, some if the cum getting in between my ass cheeks and getting my cute blonde booty hair wet.

"O-o-o-o-o-o-o-ok d-d-d-d-d-d-daddy j-j-j-j-j-j-j-j-jeffu w-w-w-w-w-w-weffy." I SEXILY said in my BEAUTIFUL submissive voice and made my way to the bed.

(This is ur guys bed btw)

Anyway cliffhanger🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

#yall im so srry #creepypasta #creepypasta meme #homicidal liu #jeff the killer #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta thirst #eyeless jack #im a simp #laughing jack #obsesión

39 notes · View notes

assortedseaglass · 1 year

Text

Come Back To Me - Chapter Five

Billy Washington x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Language, Trigger Point (TV) Spoilers.

Author’s Note: We’re mostly with Ida for this chapter. A Washington (or three) may appear...

Word Count: 2.6K

Billy and Ida hadn’t spoken since their argument. She ran down the stairs from his flat, hunched over the steering of her car and let her hot tears spill over. Violent, full-body sobs ripped through her body. He’d said she looked nice. That she was perfect. That he didn’t want her anymore. Bitter anger mixed with her heartbreak and she looked up to his flat. There he was, silhouetted against the window, looking down at her. She jerked back and started the engine. Fine. If he wanted to shut her out, she’d make it easier for him. The streets were quiet. Ida pulled away from the curb and sped away.

A little over a week later, she was staring at her desk. Her grandad’s guitar, perfectly wrapped in dark blue paper, leant against the chair. While looking through old photos, months ago in her grandma’s loft one afternoon, she had come across the guitar in a tattered leather case. A few coats of varnish and a set of new strings later, it was as good as new. Better than that battered charity shop one of Billy’s anyway…

“I hope he gets as much enjoyment out of it as my George did,” Gwen had said. “And I hope you enjoy listening to it as much.”

It had been wrapped and ready for weeks. With ten minutes left until she had to leave, Ida was still undecided as to whether she should go. Whether he would want to see her.

“Come on, honey,” It was Sofia, who had offered to drive Ida to Billy’s. “Just pop in and say happy birthday. If he’s still being foul, I’ll be outside waiting to whisk you away! And if he’s realised what a knob he was, even better!”

“And if he needs is head knocking against something, let me know.” Faisal called from the lounge.

Ida looked at Sofia, all bright and sunny in her favourite summer dress. She stood up and put her arm around the taller woman’s shoulders, placing a gentlest kiss to her temple. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Come on,” Sofia replied, nodding to the guitar. “Let’s get this over with.”

The late morning sun was heavy and oppressive and, after a week of feeling little other than despair, Ida welcomed it. The girls drove around the outskirts of London with the windows down and their hair flowing. Sofia blasted classics through the radio; Britney, Shania, Aretha, Destiny’s Child. For a brief moment, Ida wondered if Billy had been listening to Oasis, Nirvana or Radiohead. Then she thought, fuck him, and carried on singing at the top of her lungs.

By the time they pulled up outside Billy’s flat, Ida’s hair was wilder than usual, her heart was hammering and she felt like she could conquer the world. Val and Jeff Washington were sat in the car opposite, and Val gave Ida a little wave. Lana pulled in, her black brick of a car blocking the sun from Sofia’s. Sofia patted Ida’s leg. “You’ve got this! I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Ida greeted the Washingtons; Lana with a hug and Val a kiss on the cheek. Jeff pointed to the guitar and said, “Let me guess, bottle of wine?” He chortled to himself and moved to unlock the door. Ida followed them up the carpeted stairs into Billy’s flat, careful to avoid hitting the guitar on the walls of the narrow stairway. She took a shaky breath and stood a little taller. Here goes…

“Billy? Wake up.” Lana shouted into the flat, already assuming he was still be in bed. “What a shit tip,” she added, glancing at the kitchen.

Val, carrying the cake into the lounge, said in a sing-song voice, “Where’s the birthday boy?” Ida followed and set the guitar by the sofa.

“I’ll wake the lazy sod up,” said Lana before calling his name.

“If you can’t lie in on your birthday, when can you?” Ida said, and Val nudged her shoulder with a smile.

“Oh look, he started the party without us,” Jeff kicked a beer bottle with his foot, his voice somewhere between pride and disgust. Ida imagined Jeff at Billy’s age; a boring young man with an old head on his shoulders, trying to woo sweet Val with cheap aftershave and flowers from the garage forecourt.

“Well, that’s typical,” Lana entered the lounge. “He’s not here.”

“I told you we should have called first,” Jeff said to Val, who in turn held out a placating arm to him.

“He’s obviously had people round,”

“Maybe him and Becky have gone out for a birthday surprise!” Val said cheerily.

Ida and Lana’s eyes snapped to each other. As if reading the hatred Ida held for Becky in her eyes, Lana spoke quickly. “I doubt it mum. Think them two have split up for good now,”

“What?” Val seemed genuinely upset; she always saw the best in other people, which Ida admired. “He never said,”

“Well he wouldn’t, would he?” replied Lana. Ida sighed.

“His car’s gone and all-“

“Oh, that’s a shame about Becky.” Val said as Ida bristled. Not noticing, Val continued to Lana. “How did he seem when you last saw him?”

“Er, mardy? Confused?” Lana scoffed. Ida glared at her.

“No change there, then.” Jeff added. Ida caught him under her eyes too, and he turned back to the window. Each of them was silent for a few moments, unsure of what to do. Ida didn’t want to speak. Never before had she felt so uncomfortable in Billy’s flat. Without Billy here, and without the warmth she usually felt at coming to see him, Ida felt she was intruding in someone else’s life. The only thing anchoring her to reality was the other Washingtons and their whinging. She took a deep breath.

“Bloody hell, what’s that!?” Val pointed to the floor. The bandage that Ida had replaced around Billy’s knuckles lay amongst a pile of dirty clothes.

“It’s a bandage,” Lana grabbed it before her mother could reach it. “He cut his hand a couple of days ago.”

“When?”

“A couple of days ago.”

Christ. The only thing worse than listening to your family argue, is listening to other people’s families argue. Ida fiddled with the hem of her skirt, thinking of excuses to leave and get back to Sofia.

“It was after Nut’s funeral,” Lana said, defeated. “He got absolutely battered. He’d had too much to drink, and he ended up smashing a window and he got arrested-”

“Arrested!?” Ida shut her eyes. Imaginary images flashed through her mind. Billy, drunk and angry, slamming his fist through the glass of the butchers’. Slamming his fist into the wall by her head. Leaning his body against hers…

“Yes dad,” said Lana. “But he didn’t want you to worry, so I promised I wouldn’t say.” Ida smiled.

“You promised you wouldn’t say.” Val said. It wasn’t a question.

“Come on, mum,” Ida’s eyes were dashing between the three Washingtons.

“What’s going on?” Val straightened and narrowed her eyes at her daughter.

“Nothing, mum. Please, stop worrying. Billy’s not turned up to his own party, what’s new?” Jeff laughed in response and a pulse of electricity jolted Ida.

“Shut up.”

All three Washingtons stared at her, stunned into silence.

“Ida?” Whichever one of them said it, Ida didn’t know.

“Just shut up!” she hissed from her seat on the sofa.

“Now just a minute, Ida. What’s brought this on?” Jeff took a step forward.

“It’s no wonder Billy’s not here,” she gestured around the flat. “I’d have run a mile too if I knew you lot were coming over. Some fucking birthday party you make.”

“Ida!” That was Lana.

“Lana.” Ida replied sarcastically, standing up to face her. Val laughed in uncomfortable disbelief and looked at her husband. Jeff took an awkward step forwards, hands out, seemingly scared of making any sudden movement in case Ida attacked him.

“It’s not the first time he’s not told us what he’s up t-” Jeff tried, but Ida cut him off.

“Can you blame him?” Ida whirled round. Billy was the tallest of the Washingtons by a long way. Her face was level with Jeff’s as she stared him down. “When was the last time you took the remotest interest in him? And not about whether he has a job or not!” Ida added as Jeff opened his mouth and shut it again like a goldfish. Not one of them answered. “WELL?”

Silence.

“Shall I tell you how he is, seeing as you asked earlier, Val? He’s not feeling ‘mardy’ or ‘confused’, for a start. He’s scared and hurt and angry. If you paid any attention to him, you’d know that bitch and him haven’t been good for a while.” Val gasped at Ida’s language but she carried on. “He’s applied for job after job. No one wants him apparently. Not work, not Becky, not you lot. All he’s ever wanted to do is make you proud! He never wanted to join the army, you know? He only tried because he saw how happy it made you when Lana did!”

“He could have gone his own way,” said Jeff.

“Yeah, he didn’t have to do exactly what I did-” added Lana, but Ida bent double and roared into her fists. They didn’t get it.

“Do you know who could tell you about Billy, Jeff?” Ida was shouting now. “Hm? My grandma could. Do you know how many times he came over after you’d given him a bollocking? Billy knows that Lana is your favourite. We all do. He’s not stupid, and you’re fucking SHIT at hiding it.” She jabbed a finger at him, her hair whipping around her red face. Jeff was too stunned to speak. Clever, quiet little Ida had never risen her voice to anyone. Well, what the fuck did he know?

“Don’t you shout at them,” Lana bellowed. Ida turned on her the second she spoke.

“I know you’re used to bossing people around and getting your voice heard, Lana, but you can’t do that with me.” Lana looked like she’d been slapped. “He idolised you! He thought you’d always have his back, but you’ve been a fucking shit sister these last few years.” Tears were beginning to prick at her eyes. Ida knew she must look mad but my God this family brought it out of her. When she continued, her voice wobbled with years’ worth of hurt and anger.

“Do you know what I’d give to have a family? For gran to have her kids back? To have my parents back, and maybe some siblings too? Some fucking family you lot are. When was the last time you took an interest in him, Lana, and stopped treating him like a child?”

“Well, maybe if he didn’t act like one-” Ida laughed madly at Lana’s reply. “He’s been charged with racially aggravated assault, Ida.”

“I’m not excusing him, Lana!” she shouted over Val’s gasp. “But I’m the only one that’s tried to help him, rather than cast him out further.” Val was crying now and Ida could not bring herself to feel any pity. “CHRIST! THIS FUCKING FAMILY!” She screamed, grabbing her bag and heading to the door. “In the unlikely event that you see Billy before I do, tell him I’m gonna kill him, yeah?”

SLAM

The sound of the door slamming behind her rang around the building as she tore down the stairs and out the front door. Sofia, the legend that she was, already had the engine running.

“Thought I was gonna have to come up,” she said as Ida sat in the passenger seat. “Billy not a fan of the guitar then?” She added as a joke.

“He’s not in,” Ida rubbed her face. “Is it twelve yet?”

“Pub it is.”

After a pint or three with Sofia in the pub garden, Ida made her way to the nearest tube station and caught the train to her grandma’s. She let herself in and, a little drowsy from the heat and alcohol, poured herself a glass of water. It was then that Gwen entered the kitchen.

“Hiya, love! This is a nice surprise.” She kissed her granddaughter’s cheek and set about making sandwiches, as though she knew Ida hadn’t eaten yet. Ida watched her move about the kitchen, apron tied around her waist, gardening gloves left on the table.

“Cuppa?”

“I’ll do it, Gran.”

In silence, the two went about their tasks. That was until Gwen spoke again. “Something on your mind, Ida?”

“It’s just the heat,”

Gwen hummed. “Billy popped over this morning.”

Ida placed the mugs on the kitchen table as her grandma did so with the sandwiches and looked at her. How did she know? Ida didn’t speak, only waited for her grandma to continue. The older woman removed her apron and sat down. “I wasn’t expecting to see him on his birthday,” Gwen said.

“We went over this morning but he wasn’t there. Didn’t realise you’d stolen him from us.”

Gwen laughed a little and said, “Well, not to worry, I didn’t tell him about the guitar.”

They cheersed their mugs, and Ida took a bite of her sandwich. “Did he say what he was up to today?” she asked, trying to sound casual though her heart burned to know.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful. Said he’s off to see some mates, maybe catch the footie?” Gwen watched her granddaughter, and when she didn’t say anything, added. “What’s happened with you two, hey?”

Ida coughed and set her sandwich down. “Nothing,”

“Oh, don’t lie to me Ida. I know you better than you do.”

Ida looked at her grandma’s kind, concerned face, and her lips started to tremble. God, she was sick of crying. “He doesn’t want me anymore, Gran.” The heartbreak she had been carrying over the last week burst out of her and she lay her head on the table.

“Oh my darling,” Gwen cooed, standing to rub Ida’s hair. “Come on, come on.” She pulled her hand and led her into the sun of the garden. Change of scenery, change of mood, Gwen told Ida as a child. She dusted off the worn, wooden bench and patted the space next to her for Ida. Not long after they sat down Tiggy, Gwen’s decrepit tabby cat, came to sit on their laps and soak up the July sun. With each stroke of Tiggy’s mottled fur, and her grandma’s through her hair, Ida’s breathing returned to normal.

“I don’t think you’re right about Billy,” Gwen said gently.

“He told me!”

“Don’t interrupt. Shall I tell you why I think he came to have a cup of tea with the old biddy next door for his birthday?” Ida laughed lightly and nodded for her to continue. “I think it reminded him of when you were children. The amount of times you two were sat at that table, covered in mud from running around Cranstead, stuffing sandwiches in your mouth so you could get back to playing. I don’t think he wants rid of you, Ida. I think he needs you more than ever. He needs his best friend.”

Notes: Sofia, Faisal and Gwen are the miracles everyone needs in their life. Really enjoyed writing Ida going off at the Washingtons. That’s where the idea for this whole story started; a little scene of someone bashing their heads together.

Next chapter we’re back with Billy. Strap in because we’re getting to That. Point. very soon. I'm getting to writing it straight away because it's the only thing getting me through this sickness bug.

Tags: @jessssica1234 @anditsmywholeheart @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @aemonds-wifey @slytherincursebreaker @valerie977 @i-killed-ramsey

#ewan mitchell #billy washington #ewan mitchell x reader #trigger point #trigger point series #billy washington x oc #aemond x reader

96 notes · View notes

frank-a-mori-son · 3 years

Text

“Extremely detailed character sheet template”

Character Chart

Character’s full name: Frank Daniel Morrison Reason or meaning of name: The name Frank is after his Grandmother, Francesca and Daniel is his Fathers name. Character’s nickname: Killer, Frankie, “Hey asshole!” Reason for nickname: First for obvious reasons, second also, last one is just heard enough for it to be. Birth date: February 14th 1977

Physical appearance

Age: 19 years old How old does he/she appear: he could be confused for someone down to the age of 16. Weight: 65 kg/ 130 pounds Height: 173 cm/ 5′8′’ Body build: Lithe but athletic Shape of face: Heart Shaped Eye color: Brown Glasses or contacts: None, but he’ll need it once older Skin tone: White with neutral undertone Distinguishing marks: 2 visible facial scars, beautymark under right eye Predominant features: Large neck tattoo Hair color: Brown Type of hair: Straight Hairstyle: Currently an undercut Voice: Tenor voice Overall attractiveness: He’s got rouge-ish charms, so pretty attractive Physical disabilities: Hypermobility in his joints, unknown condition. Usual fashion of dress: Pretty casual, borderlining grunge and punk rock Favorite outfit: band tshirt, faux leather jacket and jeans Jewelry or accessories: He’d love piercings but has none, always wears some type of gloves.

Personality

Good personality traits: Resillient, loyal, brave and charismatic Bad personality traits: Bad temper, snarky, self critical Mood character is most often in: Agitated Sense of humor: Dick jokes and slap stick Character’s greatest joy in life: Making decisions for himself Character’s greatest fear: Becoming his parents Why? Due to how they ruined not only their lives, but that of an innocent child too. What single event would most throw this character’s life into complete turmoil? At this point that has already happened, making a grave mistake with unthinkable consequences... Character is most at ease when: With people he trusts/cares about or if completely unnoticed Most ill at ease when: Overwhelmed by attention from strangers, feeling judged by peers. Enraged when: Made fun of, harrassed, hit or when someone he cares about is hurt. Depressed or sad when: Thinking of past mistakes, regrets and worrying about present/future. Priorities: Himself and those closest to him Life philosophy: Enjoy while it lasts, they or you won’t be around forever. If granted one wish, it would be: Freedom for those he cares for. Why? They do not deserve to be trapped in this realm, but he feels he does. Character’s soft spot: Quentin, Susie and dogs. Is this soft spot obvious to others? Quentin is very obvious to most Greatest strength: His will to keep fighting Greatest vulnerability or weakness: His own mental health and trauma Biggest regret: Dragging his Legion down with him Minor regret: Failing at ending himself Biggest accomplishment: Accepting his own sexuality Minor accomplishment: When he made it onto the basket ball team Past failures he/she would be embarrassed to have people know about: The one time he got himself roofied on accident Why? he was trying to impress some older kids and failed badly. Character’s darkest secret: The fact he killed someone. Does anyone else know? His Legion and Quentin knows

Goals

Drives and motivations: Motivated to keep himself and those he cares for safe in the Entity realm. Immediate goals: Spend as much time with his boyfriend as possible, get many smooches Long term goals: Somehow, find a way out of the Entity realm. How the character plans to accomplish these goals: He has no idea, but he knows he can count on Quen to help How other characters will be affected: Hopefully, it’ll be a positive effect

Past

Hometown: Calgary, Canada Type of childhood: Rough and unstable Pets: None First memory: Being locked in his bedroom, the stench of sweetened smoke coming through the door crack and loud angry shouting from below. Most important childhood memory: His Grandma coming by on Christmas morning with a gift for him Why: because it was the first time he got a gift for xmas, it was sadly also the last time he saw his Grandma. Childhood hero: He really looked up to one specific foster dad, a good man. Dream job: Veterinarian Education: High School Dropout Religion: Christian but not practising Finances: Shaky at best, below poverty line.

Present

Current location: Ormond, Canada Currently living with: Foster dad, Clive Anderson Pets: None unless you count house flies Religion: Agnostic Occupation: Unemployed Finances: None existing.

Family

Mother: Lorraine Beatrice Morrison Relationship with her: Strained, disconnected Father: Daniel Patrick Montgomery Relationship with him: Tense and disconnected Siblings: Step-sister, Step-brother (both Fathers side) Relationship with them: None, he doesn’t know about them. Spouse: Quentin is his boyfriend Relationship with him/her: Good! very good, they’re very much in love. Children: None Relationship with them: Nothing Other important family members: Grandparents (Mothers side) who are still alive and miss their grandson.

Favorites

Color: Red, black and green Least favorite color: Pink and yellow Music: Death metal, Rock, Punk, retro Food: He’ll eat pretty much anything, has a huge sweet tooth Literature: He’s not a fast reader, so he doesn’t read. Form of entertainment: out with friends, listening to music, exploring and sports. Expressions: “Well, fuck” and “heck!” Mode of transportation: Other people’s cars, otherwise, his own two feet. Most prized possession: His faux leather jacket, as it’s bought with money he earned honestly.

Habits

Hobbies: Basket ball, art and climbing Plays a musical instrument? No, but he would’ve loved to learn Plays a sport? Basket ball! How he/she would spend a rainy day: Probably at a friends house or at their usual hangouts. Spending habits: he spends very little money as he rarely has some, but he does shop lift often. Smokes: Yes Drinks: Oh yes Other drugs: Usually just weed, though he has tried a few other things once or twice. What does he/she do too much of? Getting in trouble, drinking and smoking What does he/she do too little of? Eating, sleeping, bathing, just generally taking care of himself. Extremely skilled at: Most physical activities Extremely unskilled at: Reading, writing, maths.... Nervous tics: Foot bouncing, pacing, lip biting Usual body posture: Looks relaxed, but shoulders tensed. Mannerisms: Talks with his hands a lot Peculiarities: He’s a basic bitch in secret, he likes the big ass, sugary, cllorful and extra frappes but he’ll get them in secret like they’re illegal.

Traits

Optimist or pessimist? Pessimist, or realist as he would say. Introvert or extrovert? Ambivert! He can go both ways, depends on situation. Daredevil or cautious? Daredevil! Logical or emotional? A little bit of both, though most often ruled by emotion. Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? More like Disorderly neat, he doesn’t have enough stuff to make a mess and though he doesn’t enjoy it, he’s often the one to do dishes and laundry at home. Prefers working or relaxing? He really likes relaxing, but if he’d like working if he got a job he enjoyed Confident or unsure of himself/herself? He’s faux confidence most of the time. Animal lover? Yes. Very, very much so. Especially dogs.

Self-perception

How he/she feels about himself/herself: he considers himself damaged, unworthy and incabable of love. One word the character would use to describe self: Survivor One paragraph description of how the character would describe self: Out loud he’d call himself “a badass free spirit” What does the character consider his/her best personality trait? His ability to get up even when knocked down. What does the character consider his/her worst personality trait? His insecurity What does the character consider his/her best physical characteristic? He thinks he’s got a pretty nice bod, all things considered. What does the character consider his/her worst physical characteristic? His scarred hand, his big ears and his slight buck teeth. How does the character think others perceive him/her: As a bad boy, rebel, problem child and misfit. What would the character most like to change about himself/herself: Many things, though he really like to be taller

Relationships with others

Opinion of other people in general: They just want something from him and they’ll leave once they’ve gotten what they wanted. Does the character hide his/her true opinions and emotions from others? Often until he trusts them, then he’ll start opening up. Person character most hates: Clive, his parents, Ghostface Best friend(s): Julie, Joey and Susie Love interest(s): Quentin Smith, but Steve is handsome too. Person character goes to for advice: Depending on what it is, Quentin or Susie Person character feels responsible for or takes care of: Susie is like a little sister to him Person character feels shy or awkward around: Jeff, it’s all very complicated Person character openly admires: Jeff, again, complicated Person character secretly admires: David. He’ll never say why. Most important person in character’s life before story starts: Nobody. After story starts: His Legion and, the light of his life, Quentin.

Snatched from here

#Extremely detailed character sheet template #Frank Morrison #The Legion #DBD #dead by daylight #DBD hc #The legion hc #Frank hc #personal headcanon #this took FOREVER

193 notes · View notes

writingforyourpleasure · 3 years

Text

I have a thing for Car wash

Genre: NonIdol!AU, SummerJob!AU

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Summary: You do car wash as a summer job each year. But this year , 7 new employees are added to the mix.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: none

A/N: Thoses Butter's concept photoshoot are gonna be the death of me ...

______

Summer’s Job never been dreamy or appealing you always preferred to stay home and play games or hangout with your friends.

You were doing the same summer job from your high school’s years throughout your UNI years, this year was the last year where you could work at the same gas station you usually spent your summer’s at. You were quite happy about this news because your work there wasn’t really enjoyable to say the least.

You were working as car washer.

The staff was limited to you and Gladys. Gladys was an Australian grandma’ with an heavy accent and a loud voice.

You used to complain about the underpaid job and understaff issue to her each year , but even if she tried her best to pay you more each year, the problem of understaff was remaining.

Plus you had the marvelous advantage , note the irony, to be a woman. So of course you had some guy every now and then asking you for some porn kink including cars and water to you.

And of course as soon as you dared to say to them that it was not respectful of them to ask for such favors , well their ego feeling insecure will make them insult you ‘til Gladys will come out and try to dissolve any trouble. And if they didn’t leave… well then Tallulah will come help you out. Were Gladys was a true perfect cottage core granny , Tallulah her spouse, was a weightlifting Olympics coach. So she was , massive and looked very frightening.

But since she was often occupied most of the time Gladys would have to do the trick , and if too much persistent she would call her little brother Jeff a policeman always coming in and out of the shop to check on things.

It was nice, for a summer or two, but seeing as it’s been years since you were first introduce to this summer’s job to say it became painfully annoying was an understatement.

And this year would be the same…

Or so you though.

Gladys finally took your complains about the car wash job being understaffed and recruited a few people to help out .

When she said a few, you though she was talking about 2 to 3 people.

But no, no non no no no. Gladys took in 7 people !

She promised you your check wouldn’t take any damage by the presence of those new employees , but you sincerely doubt that.

And of course you’ll have to show them around and proceed to show them how to wash a car because of course it’s not like anybody could know how to do it by themselves.

You were moody when that tons of information’s felled down on your head, but now finding yourself in front of the 7 new employees changed everything.

Apparently Gladys misspelled car wash job for model’s photoshoot coz’ those 7 boys were for sure way too beautiful to need a car wash job.

It had to be a prank, right?

So being more self aware in what you’ve been for years you showed carefully those men of to do the job. And no it wasn’t cute or sexy, far from it.

You were dressed in your yellow hoodie and black jogging with flip-flop.

For once you wished you had were those fucking shorts looking like panties more than anything, and a crop top or something similar, like all those freaks watching too much porn often asked you to.

But no , and those guys were dressed in matching outfits in jeans and whites tee.

Even if they were very dreamy swoon over , you had more pressing issues to think about.

Like why one of them started a water fight with another one, and putting a stop to it before one of them put soap into their eyes.

“Okay guys!!! Please stop …? I don’t want to have to report you to Gladys on your first day okay? So keep that behavior for when you’re on your own okay?”

“Sorry , we didn’t meant to …” Said one.

“Huh sorry to interrupt , but none of us seems to have catch your name earlier ?” Said the guy with blue hair.

You liked his hair, it was nice, like blue waves , more darker on the edges and lighter on the center of his scalp. He had such beautiful eyes too, so sharp an-

Oh god , wait did you really lost yourself by admiring him?!

“Huh miss???”

“Y-Yeah !!! Haha my name’s Y/N !” You extended your hand , losing your mind for talking in a higher voice to him , good job at not being suspect Y/N….

And you hated yourself even more for being awkward by presenting your hand to him. But he, on the other hand sensed your discomfort and made your move seem completely normal shaking your hand lightly and giving you a cute smile showing off his dimples.

“Namjoon,…. And those two are Jungkook and Taehyung, and I hate to be the one breaking it to you but we’re probably gonna have a hard time keeping them calm.”

“Oh… Okay” You just ended , looking to the two guys involved in the previous water fight, and looking back to Namjoon’s face. He was calm and put you at ease. Hargh you were staring , good job on not being a freak Y/N .

The one all covered in jean from head to toe approached you, and ever so silently spoke to you.

“Hate to be a bother Y/N, but can I have a bucket to wring out my sponge, please?”

“Huh Yeah of course huh-hu….”

“Yoongi’s the name…”

“Oh huh well yeah let me get that from Gladys to you okay I’ll be back in just a sec Yoongi.”

He nodded very calm much to your dismay as you were starting to feel anxious about advising Gladys for more employees, maybe you should have just shut it.

You entered the store who basked in a sunny light as the morning was starting to begin for most of other people’s in the city.

At the register was one of the new employees, he wore a plaid skirt and converse’s with a white thee and jean shirt. You couldn’t believe how gracious his lips draw themselves on his face. They looked pillowy and as dreamy as the six other’s man out there waiting for you.

“Huh hello ? You might remember me from earlier ? Y/N the foremost employee?”

“Of course I do you’re the sweet mango! “

“I’m sorry what ?”

“The sweet mango ! The color of your sweatshirt look alike a mango!”

“I-I Yeah it does…”

“Would you like another nickname maybe? I’m sorry if this one doesn’t fit your style haha. What about little mouse ?”

“Do I look like a little mouse ?”

“No ,you look like a fucking rat”

Said another voice coming from behind you.

“I beg you pardon?”

You turn over to the masculine voice behind you to find yourself facing a chest. Your eyes flew up to the face of the stranger, ready to take down any bratty client. And you were surprised to face a smiling shit eating brunette man glancing down at you . He was snickering and looking at you like he was mentally undressing you with his eyes.

“Yah ! Jin ! Don’t be rude to our new friend!”

You look down to the content in his arms, some sandwiches squeezed between bottles of water.

“Wait your on job duty ! Why aren’t you with the others ?” You started to take over yourself and focus on your task, keeping everything organized.

“Some of us forgot to bring our lunch to work this morning , so I volunteered to go for it , but you’ve been blocking the line too preoccupied to talk to mister big flirt over there.”

He gestured at the cashier.

“We weren’t flirt-“

“You totally were!” Gladys interrupted you coming out from the back of the shop with several boxes of energy bars .

“Gladys I would ne-“

“Don’t lie to me girl ! Okay Jimin go fill up the shelves with those and Jin , you’re lucky you have a nice face, it’s on the house for today so go back to work will you now?”

“Sure thing Gladys! Thank you so much !” He offered her a wink before smirking down at you , going back to his devices.

“AND SHE DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A RAT! BUT YOU SURE TALK LIKE A BRATT!!!” Shouted Gladys at Jin, while a girl was approaching him to take care of her car and asking for his number. He was a blushing mess and Tae had to intervene to talk an eligible sentence to, the poor lost girl, after that.

“Now, Y/N what do you need sweetheart? I mean other than Jimin’s number of course?” She had said it loud enough for Jimin to hear it and bringing a cute smile on his face content of his accomplishments.

“Gladys please stop. “ You warned her with a tired face. She maybe looked old but she was fearless for sure .

“I need extra buckets for the boys, please.”

She leaved the register for what felt only two seconds before bringing over 5 extra buckets for you , to share.

“Thank you , you’re a life savior!”

“I know , should have started a sect when it was trendy.”

You left laughing to her dumb joke , but not before quickly glancing to Jimin. After that event you formed three distinct groups between all of you to get their heads in the game.

But with Jimin busy with helping out Gladys around the store, one of them was standing by himself.

“Okay since your alone I’ll help out for today.”

“Really? Thank you so much I was worried I’ll found myself alone when everyone’s having fun in groups.”

You looked around to indeed found them more busy playing around then actively work in silence .

“Yeah well normally having so much fun isn’t part of the job but I don’t want to kill the mood.”

“I’m Hoseok by the way but you can call me Hobi ! “ He said with a heart shaped smile.

“Y/N. Haha did you had to see Jimin assigning you a nickname too?”

“No this one’s for my crushes .” He said glancing up at you with stars shining eyes behind the comfort of his sunglasses.

“Yah! Hobi Does it mean I’m one of your freaking crushes?!” Yelled a not-so-speechless Jin , across the parking lot.

“Why don’t you come found out ?!” Yelled back a way too enthusiast Hoseok.

The day went by pretty quietly apart from those 7 agents of chaos you were stuck with from now.

Lunch came around pretty quickly and you all went to the back of the shop to have your break there , enjoying the nice breeze of the fan, while chatting.

“So , how come you’re all working here this summer?” You asked between bites of your meal.

“My aunt knows Gladys and told me she was recruiting , and since I was in need of a job I took it.” Said Jimin looking at you oh so charmingly.

“I have a thing for car wash.” Said Jin like it was completely normal.

“Your such a weirdo something hyung I swear… I was in need of a summer job saw the flyers by the campus and thought why not ? Here I am.”

Replied Jungkook slowly slurping down his noodles.

“We wanted to prove some sexist asshole that , no it wasn’t , a job only reserved to women.” Said a disgusted Namjoon swallowing quickly his part of the sandwich.

“I want to be a social entrepreneur.”

Said Taehyung leaving you with wide eyes.

“How is that related to bein-“

“If I succeed to make this place a rentable place from just the car wash then I could do anything.”

“And how would you do that ?” asked Jin dismissing his lunch to look over at Taehuyng.

“What about a photoshoot?”

159 notes · View notes

dippinginthe4door · 3 years

Note

Wait what’s on the “thanks to” section on Swan Songs I must know

Obviously there’s lots of the standard stuff, but I like how the guys added their touch to it in some lines.

Deuce:

Our fans for helping create this. Rita & Alex (Mom & Dad), Arina Erlichman, Angela Marie Young, Jeff Peters, Mike Renault, Riva, Zeda, My Grandma, Jim Milner & Ben Milner (Milner Bros.), Joel Foss, Marc Bosserman, Jeanie Ibert. Everyone in HU working hard with me. Tim from LADAY, Alex Sophli, Brian Weinberg. Everyone @ A&M/Octane Records …… and of course Merlin.

J-Dog:

Thanks to my parents, especially my Italian, ball busting Mom, my Mother Jennifer. All the band’s parents, especially Deuce’s. Science. The Phantasm. Truth & his Brother. Wes & his Brother. Everyone from JOR & EL. The whole Panther family. LA Pride Lauren. Jeff Peters, for putting up with our shit. Mike Renault. Desiree “money making, jerry maguire” Mandelbaum. Ann Murray. Steve Busch. Ben and Jim “Milner Bros”. Jimmy Iovine & James Diener, for making me rich for a hot minute. Ashlee and Asia for the awesome double dates. Glen Danzig, the real one who plays our drums. MTA workers for getting me around this city for so long. JLo and Steve from Tiny’s Bar ….and most of all of course, all our fans and everyone who likes our music and has supported it. No thanks to haters and the Glendale and Burbank pigs and MI and all it’s students, for not letting me in the building, you know who you are. Get the fuck out of my town.

Johnny 3 Tears:

Jeff Peters, the band’s manager, but more than that, my mate. Mike Renault for shutting Jeff up ….sometimes ! ! Desiree Mandelbaum. Jeff Kurtich, the Boston Brawler. My Mom for all her help. My Brother for inspiring me. Jim Milner, for all his hard work. Ben Milner, for being the light side of the darkness. Jack, J.K., Jake and Jesse Terrell. Fydor Dostoevsky. Don Gilmore. Danny Lohner. Tony Lavato, my first mate. James Diener, for that fat dollar ! ! Asia, for being so beautiful. Lauren Byrnes. Ann Murray. Steve Busch. Greg Ladanyi. “Biscuits”. Glendon Crain. The Mothers and Fathers of all the members of HU for all their support. The Mothers and Fathers of all the members of HU for all their support. ……...and much love to all our fans for the support.

Charlie Scene:

Jack Terrell, for teaching me everything I know, I love you Dad, To my Mom J.K. Terrell, don’t worry, I love you just as much. My funny Brother Jake and big ups to my Big Bro Jesse, raise yer hands if you hear me. Thanks to the rest of my family in Ohio and Florida. To all my friends. To my Managers, Jeff Peters, me mate and me manager, all together me mate-ager, and Mike Renault, both you guys are an unstoppable force. James Diener. Tom Anderson, my dick has more friends than you ever will. Ed Alexander. Don Gilmore. Danny Lohner, the porn star fucker. Shady Fizz, you know where you at dog. My 3 blonde buddies, Graham Noll, Sean Noll and Jared. Daniel “da big homie” Dingman. Jeremy Martiniano, for getting “lost” with me every Thursday. Tommy “T-head” Scribner, a.k.a Contagious. Gangster George, for always havin’ my back. Bully Shaun. Aaron Gfarm. Upright Radio. Lucas Macauley. The Milner Brothers. Nigel Smithwick, see ya at the pub. Brad Pitt, for letting me crash on the couch. The Hideaway Bar, where I go to hide away from Da Kurlzz. Debra Lee and the trigger happy. Joel Bennett. Jer Bear. Gsellman. Shadow Skillz. Sky, Glen “Biscuits” Crain , Drew Young, Jared Miller…...and to my glock, cause my glock is my hoe and my hoe go everywhere I go……..and of course, thanks to all the UNDEAD ARMY.

Funny Man:

I’d like to give a big thanks to my Madre Joanne, Paco, my Father, and my lil’ sis Mingo. To my Grandparents and the rest of my family, for the love, support and always being there for me, and being a huge impact on my life. Jeff Peters, for sticking his neck out for us and making this shit happen. If it wasn’t for you and Mike Renault, “we’d be wondering these streets so aimlessly”.

For all my homies, Big Badass T-HEAD, thanks for all the nugs bro. Snake The Coin Collecta and 3-B. Big E. SAUS MAN. Thug Life George. Felipe. Spazz Money. Gavin. Jesse. Cmar. Titts. Stanley. Shady Fizz. Dirty Jack. BULLY. Science. Big Worm. Cory The Champ, Obar and Big Luke Duke. A big shout out to everyone at A&M/Octane Records. Jimmy, thanks for the I-Pod. That lil’ monkey Dez, and that beautiful Latina Ann. The Snooge Bros. Danny “The Lone Machine” Lohner. Don G and his bitch ass crew. Glen a.k.a “Biscuits” , Lil’ Tony, Donland from Stonehurst Park, Ritchie Stites, Sleepy Brown, Bones. Thanks to G-STAR for making me look so damn good, And the Bitches with the big ol’ butts. . .and last but not least to the UNDEAD ARMY, this is for you, stay Undead, uno, dos, Ghost……..I’m Gone.

Da Kurlzz:

My Dad a.k.a. “The Frenchman”, My Mom, I thank you both for your love and support.

Jeff Peters & Mike Renault, for being there for me through all the crappy ups & downs, honestly the best managers I could ever have. My Sister and the rest of the Family, BEAR (RIP) ! ! ! Conner “CADE” Garrity, my best buddy @ Studio City Tattoo. Lemmer. Des & Ann, Glenn. Eric “FSUsXe” Curry. Erik “FSUsXe” Scandalous. BAJOS. Scott K. Tdogg. Murph. Lauren Byrnes @ LA PRIDE. Chris & PTW. BERM. Ms. Lupi. Bojesse Christopher. Ben & Jim Milner. Mark V, Sam and everyone @ Safari Sam’s. Steve Busch. All my good friends that have stuck around the past three years, who have been there and supported me (a small amount), the rest can fuck off ! ! Our fans the UNDEAD ARMY, you know this band only happened because of you. I love you. Tom Anderson, thanks for buying me smokes that one time. All the Girls that wasted their time with me. Last …...but most important of all, my five Brothers, Johnny, J, Deuce, Charles P. and Funny, for not only being my best friends, but amazingly talented fucks as well. I love you guys…...Now let’s fuckin’ party ! !

74 notes · View notes

tracybirds · 2 years

Text

Prompt Generator Ficlets #6 - #8 :D

#6 - Alan + John + Angst + Stunt - 708 words #7 - Jeff + Moffie + Humour + Storm - 604 words #8 - Virgil + Dealer's Choice + Opportunity - 432 words

These are fairly addictive to write :D I would apologise for working on zero other things but I'm having so much fun!

Alan grabbed John’s arm and dragged him to Thunderbird Three before Scott could get on the line to beg him to come home.

He couldn’t believehim, the way he’d so recklessly gambled with his life mere minutes after nearly dying.

The memories all jumbled together, John’s lifeless body hovering in the living room and then in his arms, the mooring claw grabbing at his ‘bird ready to kill him and then his brother, the old determination coloured with desperate understanding for this… thing.

And then he’d called it a friend.

“Alan, are you okay?”

A flare of anger shot through him, white-hot and leaping eagerly to devour the kindling questions in John’s eyes.

“Fine,” he growled, spitting the words through his teeth. “Strap in.”

John wavered, unwilling to let the fury slide or uncertain of how far he could push.

Alan didn’t know nor did he care.

“Hurry up,” he barked, infusing Scott’s most serious commander voice into his own.

John strapped in. He glanced uneasily over at Alan, staring firmly at the panel as he ran through engine checks.

His expression soured at the alert that beeped relentlessly as he examined the fins that stabilised their landing.

“It’s knocked it off balance.”

“She,” said John automatically.

Alan scowled.

“It,” he said, ugly emphasis painting his contempt, “has just ensured an ocean landing. There’s no way I can land her in the round house.”

“She didn’t mean t–”

“Yes, John, it did!”

Alan whirled around in his seat, glaring at John.

“Listen to me, she didn’t–”

“No, you listen to me. It tried to kill you, it tried to kill me. It stopped us from saving people today, just to play at some twisted game of vengeance, but–”

“That’s not what she was doing!”

Alan barrelled on, spurred by the image of John’s dead body floating behind his eyelids.

“I don’t know what kind of stunt you were trying to pull there; you were gambling with your lifeand now it’s a friend?”

“It was a calculated risk.”

“It was stupid,” insisted Alan. “What if it had been me in there? Or Grandma? Or… or… Scott?”

“I would have made the same decision,” said John firmly, but Alan could hear the creeping undercurrent of doubt and pounced on it.

“You’d have risked our liveson a hunch that the thing that spent quite literally all day trying to murder you?”

“No! I mean, yes! That is…” John dropped his head in his hands. “It’s not that simple, Alan.”

“Yes, it is!”

“I’d been studying her since Japan, I knew she was scared, I knew she only wanted to play.”

“She was playing with your life! I would have had to take your body home and that’s if she didn’t kill me in the attempt as well.”

He swiped at his eyes, revulsion clawing its way up from his stomach.

“Did you think about any of us when you said it?”

John flinched.

“I just… I had a feeling,” he said lamely.

The words were a hollow comfort, falling limp in Alan’s lap, and he swallowed back a hard lump that choked the furious response he wanted to shout.

“A feeling’s not much to go on,” he said instead, willing John to hear him, really hear him.

John’s lips quirked.

“Sometimes a feeling…is all we humans have to go on.”

There was no calculating the odds, no level of certainty about how EOS would act in the future. John was right about one thing – she was no mere computer programme. Alan knew what to do with computer programmes. EOS was an unknown entity, that John was trusting with his life and more. He couldn’t trust it, no matter what John said. And so, he was forced to ask himself a harder, more foundational question.

Did he trust John?

John snorted, leaning back in his seat as he scrubbed at his face.

“I’m not sorry, you know,” he said quietly.

Alan looked at him, eager and earnest in a way he’d never seen before, caution thrown to the wind and preparing for a battle to keep his new… pet.

He didn’t trust her, and nobody would fault him for it.

But he trusted John.

“I know.”

He stared. He knew it was rude, but he couldn’t help it.

A strange woman sat half-asleep at the breakfast counter, staring blankly out the window and paying him not the least bit of attention.

He cycled back through the vast stores of family history he’d had thrown in his direction in the past week and a half, searching desperately for an explanation for her sudden appearance.

His mind drew a blank.

She was surely too old for Gordon and Alan, John seemed as uninterested as ever, and try as he might, he couldn’t remember any mention of a girl attached to Virgil or Scott either. At least, not one that would turn up unannounced at their island home.

Still, he really ought to know her name if she was important enough to spend the night as she so clearly had.

He cleared his throat as he stepped up to the counter, plastering a warm smile across his features as he reached for the espresso.

“Oh, hello, Mr Tracy," she said, looking up at him with a yawn. “Early start, is it?”

She gestured outdoors at the rain lashing soundlessly against the windows.

“Storm’s keeping me here a while longer it seems.”

“Uh, yes,” said Jeff, his mind still spinning. “I suppose so.”

The desire for more context, for more information, burned inside of him but he shoved it down, not wanting to be rude to his unexpected guest.

“Did you have somewhere you needed to be?”

“Oh, nowhere urgent,” she said, waving her hand vaguely. “Switzerland can wait, they know I shifted to flexible hours following the gravity well.”

Jeff choked on his coffee. He’d been told a number of wild tales, and he remembered Gordon telling one on just that subject. He’d never really believed it had happened, and unless this woman was an excellent liar, he suddenly had a secondary source.

“Ah, when was that again?”

“Oh, two or three years ago now,” she said waving her hand. “Hiram and I have been working on practical applications of gravity disruptors for nigh on a year now.”

So, it was Brains who had invited her, thought Jeff, hiding his smile in his coffee mug. Good for him.

“I’d be happy to fly you home once the storm has lifted,” he offered but she waved her hand impatiently.

“I’ve got it,” she announced, leaping up and grabbing her tablet. “And, thank you, but no, Scott usually takes us out.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” he said.

He watched as she made to leave, fingers jabbing at variables on the screen and swerving around furniture like she’d done it a million times before, and before he could help himself, Jeff called out after her.

“What’s your name?”

She paused to look at him in complete astonishment.

“Professor Moffat. Hiram and I have kept up a consistent correspondence since your boys went public with the Thunderbird machines. Did he not tell you?”

Jeff shook his head.

Professor Moffat burst out laughing.

“So you found a strange woman in your kitchen and thought ‘no follow up questions needed’?”

“But you knew who I was,” he protested.

“Everyone knows who you are, Mr Tracy.”

She flashed him a grin.

“I thought Hiram had told you about me. Guess I’m not important enough after all, way to bruise my ego.”

Jeff chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I’ll be sure to interrogate him about all his friends in the future.”

“Excellent,” she said. “I’ll let him know for you. He’ll hate it, I’m sure.”

That he will, thought Jeff as Professor Moffat strode away. That he will.

Virgil collapsed in the pilot seat, exhaustion creeping over his features.

It was over. They could go home.

Staying awake would normally be a concern, but each time his eyes fluttered closed, he could see Marissa propped up by pillows and a hospital bed.

He’d spoken to her parents, and Thomas’s and Wing’s and Celia’s and Michael’s and Aroha’s and many more beside. Reassuring them all, finding out their stories, checking in on their children one final time, figuring out how they could reach out to them to ease the next stage of the journey as much as possible.

Rescues didn’t end once they made it to the hospital.

Leaning over, he punched Gordon lightly, curled up in his seat like a cat and definitely not ready for take-off.

“Huh?”

Gordon looked blearily around him and Virgil smiled dimly.

“Sorry kid, time to go home.”

“I’m not a kid,” muttered Gordon, pulling himself upright with a yawn.

He blinked as his took in the view from the cockpit for the first time.

“When did it get so dark?”

“About five hours ago,” said Virgil, scrubbing at one eye and biting back a yawn of his own.

“Five hours ago?”

“That’s what I said.”

“What took you so long? I thought the nurses had it all under control, you said.”

“They did. I waited with the kids until the parents started arriving.” He paused and then amended his statement. “Until they all arrived.”

Gordon looked distressed.

“I could have helped,” he said weakly, but Virgil didn’t need to look over to see the way the reluctant offer pained him.

“You know I don’t mind,” he said quietly.

Gordon sagged against the seatbelt.

“Thanks.”

Silence fell in the cockpit and Virgil began the take off procedures, longing for home.

“Why do you do it?”

Virgil didn’t need further clarification.

“It’s not premeditated,” he said quietly. “I don’t plan to do all that.”

“But you always do,” said Gordon. “It’s like you can’t help it. Me, I’m lucky if I even notice something’s wrong.”

“Give yourself more credit than that,” admonished Virgil, but Gordon waved him off.

“I’m not saying I’m a jerk or anything, but Virg you have to know you’re something special.”

Virgil’s cheeks burned.

“It’s not like that,” he said.

He waved a hand helplessly before sliding Thunderbird Two into autopilot and turning to face his brother.

“I just see opportunities to be kind. That’s all.”

Gordon leaned over, smiling fondly as he clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. Virgil grabbed it tightly.

“Surely you know by now, Virg – that’s everything.”

#alan tracy #john tracy #jeff tracy #moffie #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #sometimes i fic #i would like to be clear - i don't think i can write humour but that's what the prompt gave me so i tried :P

11 notes · View notes

avengedbiologist · 3 years

Text

Thunderbird Headcanons

Thunderbird headcanons I just kinda forgot to post.

Scott

Not a single brain cell.

Like 6’1”

Is like really not down with the kids as much as he thinks he is.

Fully believes he is cool.

Writes a letter to his Mum every year and just puts it in a drawer.

Did have a mullet at one point.

Dimples and some moles.

Hates strawberries.

He really loves pies (not made by grandma though)

Good hugs.

He was rebellious as a kid, still got good grades at school but skived a lot and smoked probably.

Wears double denim.

Close to all his brothers due to him helping his dad raise them.

Especially close to Alan as he was only 8 when their dad went missing and kind of hand to become a parental figure in his dad's place.

Wears crocs and socks.

If he needs support will go to Virgil or John, but since he feels comfort in physical contact he tends to go to Virgil.

Full on had grey hairs at 25 from taking over IR.

Really likes porridge.

Reads/watches something for an hour before bed, unless the rescue literally causes him to pass out as soon as he gets on the bed.

Favourite tic tac flavour is lime and orange.

Really bad with spice.

Not allergic to bees

Virgil

Mans built, a good mix of both muscle and fat, bulking him out more than his brothers.

Was a bug kid, used to draw them all the time, he still remembers bug facts.

Really interested in scarab beetles

Moles on face as well as scar near eyebrow.

Like 5’9”-5’10”

Probably could lift the sofa with one hand if given the chance.

Can easily pick up Scott and John at the same time.

Usually the brother Gordon and Alan hang around or ask for emotional support.

Close with Gordon as he was the main brother who cared for Gordon after his accident due to his medical knowledge. Was around when Gordon had his breakdowns and Virgil knows a lot of Gordon's fears or insecurities, he knows most of his brothers insecurities as well, and always checks up on them if they are faced with something that could bring up their insecurities.

Virgil covers up alot, he can be quite insecure about his body, it fully depends on the day, if there is a day where he is more confident with his body and shows more skin, his brothers make sure not to comment on it as that can throw him off and make him insecure again.

Best hugs ever.

Can bake okay, can kind of cook, nothing too hard.

Has his own soup recipe that tends to be used when one of his brothers is ill.

Gay.

Close with all his brothers but tends to end up hanging around Gordon and Alan.

Is allergic to ibuprofen and aspirin

Sarcastic humour.

Full on had a crush on Kip Harris and Tycho reeves.

Can fill a sketchbook in a week.

Landscapes and figures are his favourite things to draw.

Has a birthmark on his palm

John

Tall an lanky.

Good at gymnastics.

Light freckles all over face.

Very close to Alan due to their shared love of space.

John used to teach Alan about space when they were younger, and used Alan as an audience (as well as Jeff) for when he had to practice for a presentation.

Like 6’1”

He had a punk phase when he was a teen.

Has severe hay fever.

Social anxiety isn't good with crowds, unless one of his brothers is with him, they help distract him from the crowds. Alan usually does space talk. Scott and Virgil tend to talk to him about mechanics and coding, usually asking John to babble about it. Gordon usually makes jokes or asks him about what he did that day, half the time Gordon doesn't understand what he's talking about but he's respectful and listens.

Does not like physical contact as much, he will hug his brothers but he has to be in the right mood, his brothers always seem to know when he is in the right mood.

Always hugs Alan and Gordon though.

Tends to keep a level head but if someone were to hurt one of his brothers he would get angry.

Was a generally quiet kid.

Was good at getting a baby/toddler Alan to stop crying.

Has a mole behind his ear.

Gordon

Little, like 5’6” to 5’8”.

Big shoulder from all that butterfly swimming.

Jokes about a lot, not only because he is funny but he is insecure, he hates seeing family so sad, it reminds him of when he was in his accident.

Is actually kind of insecure about his body, he has a lot of scars from accidents and from being in WASP.

He is shaped like a dorito and has little body fat.

Bisexual

Massive crush on Penelope, eventually asks her out and they hang out as much as they can, which isn't much since they both have very busy lives.

Has a mullet.

Also wears crocs and socks but does it better than Scott.

Is a mess.

Military lad but if you didn't know him you would not be able to tell.

Suffers from depression but again you wouldn't be able to tell, he hides it well.

Nothing but bright clothes in his wardrobe.

At one point he did have a crush on buddy.

He did have a good relationship with Jeff but from ages 14-16 they just didn't get on, Gordon just seemed to get on Jeff's nerves a lot and also seemed to just keep making the wrong decisions. This all got better when Gordon talked about going to work with WASP. Too bad Jeff never got to see him there since the accident happened before Gordon started.

Gordon naturally feels relieved when Jeff comes back, they start again and so far they are getting on well.

Is actually a really good cook.

If not swimming or on a mission he will spend the day cooking if given the chance.

Likes veg more than fruit.

Catch him munching on a carrot whilst listening to the info on the mission.

Always has tic-tacs in his pockets, both suit and civvies.

Really good with spice and heat, he survived eating a carolina reaper pepper.

Knows how to do the hoedown throwdown.

Knows origami.

Alan

Was only 1 when his mum died, he blames himself sometimes due to him being the one his mum was trying to save in the avalanche. [All versions]

Pansexual [All versions]

Never had a good bond with his family until he was 14 and the hood attacks, sure he liked them and they cared for him they just never gelled as well. Despite this he is close with John. John was the main one to actually listen to him and actually let him speak through his issues and John never judges him [04].

He has a boyfriend who he meets at whartons, they meet before the hoods attack and get close whilst Alans in recovery via video calls and when Alans is allowed back into school they start dating. [04]

Freckles :)

Is very little, between 5’4” and 5’7” depending on the version.

When Jeff comes back Alan is iffy around him, Jeff manages to get back in to the father figure role quickly but Alan hasn't seen Jeff for years and has forgot a lot about him, Alan naturally goes to Scott with any issues, isn't used to Jeff being around. It takes a few months for him and Jeff to actually bond properly by themselves.

Has a prosthetic leg, the story behind it depends on the version, 04, his leg was severely injured after falling and catching his leg on the moving mole during his fight with the hood in the bank. In TAG it's a situation of explosion in space that nearly kills him. (Sometimes this is a thing sometimes it's not idk)

Has a bed full of stuffed animals.

His room is filled with rocket posters and models.

Has a shelf that's just the rockets in mission order.

Loves the mercury 7.

Alan's baking ability is making those cookies that you just add like milk into.

Used to copy Gordon a lot.

Still copies him sometimes, like him keeping sweets in his pockets at all times and sometimes copies his reactions in conversations cause he zones out a lot

Will tear up if someone shouts at him, usually he hides it and when alone he lets it out. His brothers know this and will usually try to prevent the shouting from happening.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #Scott Tracy #Virgil Tracy #John Tracy #Gordon Tracy #alan tracy #thunderbirds au #thunderbirds headcanons

37 notes · View notes