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#barbie had a little lamb

munson-blurbs · 10 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Summary: A disastrous PTA meeting and an unfortunate grocery store encounter have you and Eddie questioning whether or not you deserve each other.

Warnings: a bit of dirty talk (18+ just in case), feelings of unworthiness, Carol Perkins and Billy Hargrove make appearances, mentions of bullying, small allusion to drug use and poverty, arrest, tiny allusion to Eddie's breeding kink

WC: 7.1k

Chapter 13/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special thanks to @girlwiththerubyslippers & @corroded-hellfire for helping with this chapter!

Your Thursday mornings at Hawkins Preschool usually involve a light tap on the door and a blink-and-you-missed-it wave from Eddie; maybe a wink if no one’s looking. Today, he’s stopped by the classroom with a steaming styrofoam cup in hand.

“I thought you only brought me coffee on Mondays,” you laugh appreciatively. You take the still-hot beverage from him, folding back the plastic tab and blowing on it lightly before taking a sip. It’s made just as you like it and warms you from the inside out.

Eddie smiles, crossing his arms over his chest an leaning in closer so his leather-clad shoulder grazes sweater-covered one. “Ah, but the PTA meeting is after school today.” As if you could forget forty minutes of unpaid work that could be spent reading, resting, snuggling up to your thoughtful metalhead boyfriend… “Figured you could use an extra boost of caffeine to help you power through.” He lowers his voice to add, “I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it. But Wayne’ll be there.” He squeezes your hand quickly just as Abby Carver approaches you.

You pull away so fast that you bang your elbow against the side of the desk, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a yelp. “What can I do for ya, Abby?” you ask, smiling through the throbbing pain.

“Joshua said that he’s taller than me!” she whines, messily swiping at her ruddy tear-stained cheeks. Her dad only dropped her off five minutes ago, and she’s already conjured up a crisis. Unsurprising, but exasperating nonetheless.

You peer over at Joshua Harrington, who is currently constructing a racetrack, unbothered by Abby’s distressed state. Your gaze flits back over to the little girl in front of you. “Honey, he is taller than you,” you gently explain, watching as her bright blue eyes begin to well up again.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t havta say it!” she protests, stamping her sneaker on the speckled tile floor. It’s one that lights up, little red and blue and green twinkles dashing along the side.

You nod, sucking in your lips in a feeble attempt to keep a straight face. “Well, you can just play somewhere else. And we’re gonna get started with circle time in a few minutes.” Time to sing the Good Morning song–again. If the kids didn’t beg for it every day, you would’ve scrapped it months ago, but it keeps them entertained.

Once she scampers off, already zeroing in on a group of girls dressing up some time-battered Barbie dolls, you turn your attention back to Eddie.

“We’re still on for Saturday?” you ask, a subtle reminder of your upcoming date at Enzo’s. It’s a fancier restaurant than either of you are used to, but Eddie had insisted on it.

He nods quickly, scratching at the back of his neck like he does when he’s nervous, though you’re not quite sure what’s on his mind. “Y-Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“I can’t wait.”

At 3:15, you and Will trudge into the classroom that’s serving as the meeting venue. It only takes a moment for you to remember that it’s Ms. Marion’s room, and your eyes scan the walls for Harris’s artwork. You find it easily; it’s the best in the class. It’s a drawing based on the saying, ‘March is in like a lion and out like a lamb,’ and each kid drew a picture of the two animals. Harris has meticulously added details to his. He’s drawn a zig-zag line under the lion’s pink nose to represent his aggression and given the lamb a puffy coat of wool, while the other kids just drew smiling lions and a circle to represent their lambs’ bodies. He’s also included a speech bubble hovering above each of their heads; the lion’s says “ROR!!!” and the lamb bleats “BAAA.”

Will’s gaze follows yours, and his lips turn up into a smile when he sees what you’re staring at. “He’s a talented kid,” he remarks. “We gotta have him sign something now so we can say ‘we knew him when.’”

You nod your head in agreement and return his grin. You’ll have to tell Eddie to have Harris swing by your classroom after school tomorrow so Harris can autograph some drawings.

Wayne comes in a few minutes later, taking a seat behind you and Will.

“How’s your day going, Wayne?” You turn around in your chair and greet him. Seeing the older Munson always lifts your spirits. He’s wearing a flannel, checks of olive green and white, over a white t-shirt that proudly proclaims: My Favorite Person Calls Me Grampa.

Wayne gives a little shrug; for him, it’s the equivalent of a beaming smile. “Can’t complain. Didn’t get too much pushback from Harris when I dropped him at the baby-sitter’s.” He explains that Claudia Henderson still has a bunch of the games her son had played with, and Harris loves going through the toy bin and finding something new. “Well, new to him. That stuff’s gotta be nearly twenty years old by now.” He scratches the white-gray whiskers on his cheek and chuckles. “Jeez, ‘m old. I remember buyin’ those kinda games for Eddie when he was a kid.”

More parents and teachers file in and, eventually, the PTA president stands at the front of the classroom and calls the meeting to order. The idle conversation gradually ceases, and Linda Wright presses her lips into a thin smile and smooths nonexistent creases in her khaki slacks.

“Welcome, everyone,” she begins, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Thank you all for being here. We have quite a few items to cover today, so let’s get to it!” She’s far too chipper for your liking, and you wince involuntarily as she excitedly announces the upcoming parent-child talent show. It’s an annual school-hosted fundraiser, and apparently a popular one; there’s a soft roar of discussion before Linda wrinkles her nose in irritation and shushes the group.

“Oh, Ed’s gonna love that,” Wayne leans in and whispers to you. “He’ll probably be more excited than Harris.” He sits up straight when Linda clears her throat and glares in his direction.

The president launches into a tirade about kindergarten readiness strategies, handing out little pamphlets to the parents and guardians. The cover displays an overly-enthusiastic teacher surrounded by a small group of students who are closely attending to a fake lesson.

You hear Wayne grumble under his breath: “What is there to be ready for? It’s kindergarten, Jesus Christ.” and you have to stifle a laugh.

Linda luckily doesn’t hear his lament. “I’m opening up the floor to any questions or concerns.” Now is the time that people typically start gathering their belongings and resume unfinished conversations. It’s precisely what you plan to do until you hear an all-too familiar snide voice from across the room.

“Yes, I have a question.” Carol Perkins stands up. She places her hands on her hips and pulls her lips into a smirk. “What is the school’s policy on parent-teacher relationships? Romantic and…otherwise?” Her gaze sweeps over to you, hovering there for a bit, and you realize with a sense of dread that she’s enjoying this. “Because, to me,” she splays her manicured fingers over the center of her chest, “it just seems completely unprofessional.”

The PTA members start whispering amongst themselves, eyebrows raised in excitement as they try to determine the culprit amongst themselves.

You want to crawl into a hole and die. You can feel Wayne’s eyes on the back of your head, as though he’s silently willing you to remain composed. The only other person who knows of your relationship with Eddie is Will, and you can tell that he’s doing everything in his power not to wrap his arms around you in a hug.

At the very least, the principal is not tolerating the dissolution of the meeting into a gossip session. “Ms. Perkins, we can discuss this at a later time. Privately.” Sue Sinclair’s expression is stoic, unreadable, and you’re not sure whether she’s angry at you or Carol. How would she know it’s me? But logic has no reason with emotion taking center stage, and you’re all too grateful when Chrissy Carver shifts the conversation to organize a ticket sale committee. For the most part, it seems like Carol’s little outburst has been swept under the rug. The meeting concludes as some parents leave while others stick around to schedule playdates, but you remain seated.

A hand on your shoulder startles you from your humiliated stupor, and you look up to see Will looking at you. Sympathy radiates from his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he softly reassures you. “I don’t think anyone knows, and even if they do, who cares? Harris isn’t in your class anymore.”

“I-I know.” But Frankie is, which means I’ll have to face Carol every day, I’ll have to deal with her smarmy expressions and backhanded comments. The blood drains in your face when you think about her spreading rumors to the other parents, their amused stares as they drop their children off to be in your care.

Wayne speaks up as he stands, leaning his gnarled knuckles on the seat of the folding chair for support. “Darlin’, you’ve got nothin’ to worry about. It’s no one’s business who you’re with.” He brushes some dust off of his dungarees and walks with a slight limp towards the door, the remnants of an old injury that flares up in the colder weather. “I gotta go get Harris, but you keep your chin up.” He gives Will a quick head bob that the younger man returns, having developed somewhat of a camaraderie with the elder Munson during the various post-graduation Hellfire sessions held at the trailer.

Carol says nothing as she leaves the room, deep in conversation with Steve Harrington and his wife. If they don’t know about you and Eddie yet, you’re confident that Carol will ensure they do soon. Dread pools in your stomach at the thought of small-town gossip flying, your professionalism being called into question, the possibility of you losing your job. And everyone will know why.

Eddie’s hands tremor with excitement; his whole body buzzes with energy as he grabs the receiver off of the glass countertop. He dials your number–his favorite seven digit combination in the world–and beams the entire time. As soon as he hears your, “hello?”, he’s practically shouting into the phone. Volume control has never been his forte, especially after years of blowing out his eardrums with loud music.

“Babe, guess what?” He drums his left hand fingertips on the counter, a rhythmic pum-pum-pum to keep his breath steady.

“What’s up?”

He notes hesitance in your tone, but chalks it up to exhaustion from your extended workday. “I applied for that manager position? The one I told you about on our first date?” He hears your soft “mhm,” before proceeding. “And I got it! Ash just told me now!” He smiles, pressing the receiver to his ear with his shoulder as he organizes paperwork into a pile. “Eddie Munson, getting the girl and the job? Never in Hawkins’ wildest dreams!”

There’s a pause on your end of the line before you reply. “I’m so proud of you, Eds. No one deserves this more than you do.”

Though there’s still an air of something Eddie can’t quite identify, it’s woven with genuine pride for his accomplishment. His fingertips keep busy as they graze up and down the phone cord. “Now we, uh, really have something to celebrate at Enzo’s.”

Another pause; this one is so long that he wonders if the line disconnected. “Um, about that…” you finally speak up, and Eddie hopes you don’t hear the gigantic sigh of relief that escapes his lips, “maybe we could just do something at my place? Grab takeout, watch a movie or something?”

His relief evaporates almost as quickly as it came, and he puts his weight on his forearms and lowers his voice. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just been a long week.”

It sounds too automatic, too rehearsed to be true. Eddie doesn’t believe you, but he needs to get to Wayne’s and pick up Harris before his uncle leaves for work. “I really wanted to take you out, show you off, y’know?” He clears his throat, scrambling for words. “We can talk more about it later. Try to get some rest, Sweetheart.”

“Mmkay,” you mumble, and Eddie hopes he’s not just imagining the smile in your voice. “I’ll try. Say hi to Harris and Wayne for me.”

He ends the phone call promising that he will, hanging up hesitantly. What happened between this morning and this evening that had you backing out of the date and retreating into your home?

I shouldn’t have tried to hold her hand, he grimaces, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road towards Forest Hills. That was so stupid; she was at work, and the kids were right there. Way to go, Munson.

Eddie continues to brood about his faux pas all the way until he gets to Wayne’s, slapping a smile on his face as he relays the news about his promotion. The smile becomes less forced the more he talks. He’s suddenly consumed with thoughts of buying a house with a yard, a pool–well, maybe not a pool; he’s not making that much money–but definitely space for Harris to run around and play.

And in this fantasy world he’s created, you’re standing on the front porch, sipping coffee out of a World’s Best Mom mug–possibly the only mug Wayne doesn’t already have nailed to the trailer wall–made just the way you like it. You’re laughing as you watch Harris sprint back and forth across the grass. Eddie imagines it neatly cut, but the reality is that it would probably be more than a bit overgrown.

He’d sneak up behind you, snaking arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses onto the back of your neck–

“That’s amazing, Ed!” Wayne claps a hand on his nephew’s back, drawing him out of his daydream and thrusting him back into reality. He pulls him into a quick hug, not overabundant in affection, but his delight seeps through. “You talk to your girl yet?”

“First person I called.” My girl. The first person I called was my girl. She’s my girl and I’m her man–

“Good.” Wayne responds pensively, smoothing down his unruly mustache whiskers and reaching for his pack of Camels. He shoves them into his side pocket, right on top of the lighter. “She could use some good news after that shitshow of a PTA meeting.”

Eddie’s brows crinkle, pinched together in non-understanding. “What are you talking about?” he asks before calling out his son’s name to bring him from the bedroom. He can hear the bed springs creaking, which can only mean that Harris is jumping on the old mattress. Apparently, breaking his wrist didn’t result in a lesson learned.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” He slams his palm onto the countertop as confusion melts into frustration. Weren’t you past this? Past keeping secrets and masking emotions?

Wayne sighs, weighing his options. Ultimately, his allegiance is to his nephew, so he divulges what happened that afternoon, heart sinking as Eddie’s face falls with each word. “She seemed real shook up,” he concludes the story, digging out the pack of cigarettes. Delivering news that devastates his nephew has him urgently craving a smoke. “I wanted to stay and talk to her, but Claudia had somewhere to be at five.”

Eddie chews on his lower lip, pulling off a bit of dry skin with his front teeth. “Yeah, no, ‘s fine.” He calls Harris out of the bedroom again, patience sufficiently thinned. Of course Carol Perkins would shoot off her big mouth about your personal life. It’s not like she had anything better to do. None of that is surprising.

What worries Eddie is why you didn’t tell him about it. Were you embarrassed that people knew you were together? Is that why you didn’t want to be seen at Enzo’s with him? Would you agree to a restaurant far outside the bounds of Hawkins, or was this shame rooted deeper than small-town gossip?

Wayne can sense his anxiety, and he scrambles to dam up Eddie’s flooding thoughts as he fumbles to put the cigarette between his lips. “It’s pretty damn obvious that you two care for each other. Dare I say, you lo—”

“Wayne!”

“Fine, fine,” Wayne chuckles and grabs his lunch pack. The ceasing of the bed springs indicates that Harris has stopped jumping, and Eddie can hear toy cars clattering into a bag. “But you should just talk to her. Make sure she’s okay.” He lowers his voice as Harris finally emerges. “I know it ain’t been easy to hear rumors your whole life, but this is new to her. Cut her a little slack.”

Eddie looks around the trailer at what was his first real home. He’d bounced from place to place with his parents, dodging angry landlords and their threats of eviction. From a young age, he’d learned to dread the end of the month, knowing that conflict was inevitable. Screaming voices, accusations of hiding money, when anyone with working eyes could see that they’d all but stuffed it in a pipe and smoked it. There was no love; only survival. Wayne was never the cookies and milk, family dinner, Leave it to Beaver type, but he offered Eddie something he’d never had before: safety.

Now, Eddie scoops Harris into his arms and follows Wayne out of the trailer as he locks up. There’s not too much of great value; possibly just the TV, but even that’s on the fritz. And unless a thief had a hankering for hokey mugs and baseball caps, they’d probably leave without taking a thing. “Thanks, Old Man.”

“‘S what I’m here for,” Wayne says, pressing a kiss to Harris’s mop of curls. He pauses, and then does something he hasn’t done in years: he kisses the top of Eddie’s head, too. “Not just a pretty face, y’know.”

On Saturday evening, Eddie finds himself at Bradley’s Big Buy, scouring the aisles until he locates the small refrigerator holding various flower bouquets. The chill hits him in the chest as he opens the door, crouching down to get a better look at the offerings through their tissue-paper wraps. He’s determined to take you to Enzo’s, and he’d hoping this small gesture will show you that he can be the man you deserve.

He finds a bouquet of pink peonies and grabs them from the display case, clutching them proudly. They’re delicate and beautiful, just like you. He raises them up, the petals tickling his nose when he inhales the fresh scent, when he overhears Billy Hargrove speaking in a hushed tone:

“Thought you were stopping by after that parent meeting thing.”

“My idiot husband came home early,” a woman–Carol Perkins, Eddie realizes–punctuates her lament with an irritated sigh. “But speaking of that meeting–I’ve been meaning to tell you: guess who’s also hooking up?” She doesn’t wait for him to answer before divulging the gossip, “Frankie’s teacher and Eddie Munson.”

“The teacher and the Freak? No way.” He sticks his tongue in his cheek and chuckles maliciously. “Didn’t know she was down for that kind of stuff.”

“Keep it in your pants,” Carol huffs, as though she’s not stepping out on her own husband. “But I’m serious! He brings her coffee and leaves her stupid love notes.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes together as he cringes. Billy’s second round of mean laughter transports him back to the time the jock grabbed his brand-new D20 off of the lunch table and used his basketball skills to chuck it into a far-off trash can. The ruby red die sunk into the mountain of discarded lumps resembling mashed potatoes and half-eaten meatloaf, forcing Eddie to trek across the cafeteria and fish it out of the pile of old food. “Love notes? What, is he in high school or something?”

Carol snickers. “Guess he’s making up for all the times he didn’t bother, since he knew no girl in this town would go for him.”

“Looks like he had to go for an import,” Billy jokes, drawing a hideous cackle from his friend. Eddie can practically hear the man’s ego inflating at the way Carol fawns over him.

“And a desperate one at that,” she snorts. “I mean, can you imagine lowering your standards enough to be with Eddie Munson?”

“Let’s hope she comes to her senses eventually,” he agrees. “So, is your husband home now…?”

All Eddie can think is to run, to get the hell out of there before anyone spots him and notices the pink tinging his cheeks and the tears welling in his eyes. He’s so focused on leaving and getting past the two bullies that he forgets about the flowers in his hand, until an infuriated voice calls after him.

“Hey! Get back here!” The manager rolls his eyes when he recognizes the culprit. “Eddie Munson. Of course. I should’ve known that shoplifting isn't too juvenile a crime for you.”

Eddie can hear Billy and Carol poorly stifling their amusement at his misfortune. He struggles to find the proper words to explain himself as his entire body is engulfed in the flames of embarrassment, burning him from the inside out. “No…I didn’t mean…it was an accident…”

The manager shakes his head with a biting laugh. He’s a graying man who should have been retired fifteen years ago when Eddie was actually shoplifting. The liver-spotted creases around his eyes are particularly visible when he sneers, “Heard that one before. Prob’ly from you.”

Anger burns in Eddie’s throat, but he swallows it. “Look, let me just pay for these, and I’ll get outta here.” He starts to fumble for his wallet, but the old man shakes his head.

“Nice try. I let you off easy too many times when you were a kid, and look where it got ya.” His cold hand clasps Eddie’s bicep as tightly as his feebleness allows. “I’m calling the sheriff. He can decide what to do with you.”

“Shit-shit-shit,” Eddie mumbles, yanking himself from the man’s grip. “Y’don’t have to hold me; I’m not gonna run away.”

To his surprise, the manager lets him go, though it’s likely due to his advanced age rather than trusting Eddie to do the right thing.

He’s taken to the back room, anxiously tapping his foot against the floor and biting his thumbnail. A quick glance at his watch tells him that he’s supposed to pick you up in 15 minutes. He breathes out a long sigh, scanning the bulletin board hastily fastened to the wall with a lone flyer advertising medical benefit sign-up. Upon closer inspection, he reads that it’s for the 1990 fiscal year, and he can’t help but wonder if that’s the last time the stodgy old Bradley ever offered insurance to his overworked, underpaid employees.

He says a silent prayer to whatever gods are listening that Hopper is the one who answers the call. The chief will give him the benefit of the doubt and probably tear the old fart a new one for wasting his time.

Purse, keys, lipstick, condoms.

You have everything you need for your date, save for one minor detail–Eddie.

You’d expected him to stop by your classroom yesterday to say good morning like he normally does, but he didn’t show. He would’ve called you if Harris was staying home sick; a brief peek out your window during recess confirmed that the littlest Munson was present. He ran around the playground with one of his friends from the birthday party, blissfully unaware of the turmoil churning within you.

Eddie definitely heard what happened at the meeting, you realize miserably, and he doesn’t want to deal with the backlash he’ll get from dating his kid’s former teacher. From anxiety blooms visions of the convoluted game of telephone perpetuated by Carol, the story getting more absurd with each retelling.

At 7:30, Eddie still hasn’t shown. He’s not exactly Mr. Punctuality, but thirty minutes is pushing it, even for him. His tardiness does nothing to ameliorate your fears. This was clearly too much for him—you were too much for him.

You’re about to wipe the makeup off of your face and change into your coziest pair of pajamas when the phone rings, startling you slightly.

“H-Hello?”

“This is a collect call from the Hawkins County Jail. Do you accept the charges?” an automated voice bleats, too chipper for the circumstances it’s reporting.

You’re caught off-guard by the question and the tone, and you choke out a strangled, “yes” and the line rings twice.

“Sweetheart? You there?” Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Relief floods your body until you remember where he’s calling from.

“Y-Yeah, I’m here,” you say, and it’s only when your fingers start to cramp that you recognize how tightly you’re gripping the receiver. “Why are you in–”

He sighs into the phone, and static briefly clouds his voice. “Long story,” he mumbles. “Can you just come and get me? There’s, uh, no bail or anything.”

“I’ll be right there.” You waste no time in grabbing your keys off of their hook, nearly forgetting to shove your feet into shoes in your scramble out the door. You’re ashamed to admit that for a millisecond, you consider the possibility that he’s been busted for dealing, but you shake it off lest it further infiltrate your psyche.

You pull up to the jail exactly twenty-eight minutes later, the fastest you can get there without flying down side streets; the irony of being pulled over for speeding on your way to the police station was not lost on you. Flinging the car into park and killing the engine, you fast-walk through the entrance and hope your nervousness is hidden by the air of confidence you’re faking.

“I’m here to pick up Eddie—er, Edward Munson?” His legal name is clunky on your tongue, like it doesn’t quite belong to him.

The officer behind the desk wears a name badge that reads “P. Callahan.” He puts down his copy of the Hawkins Post and presses his lips into a thin line as he reaches for the walkie attached to his shirt pocket.

“Hop, is Munson ready to be released?” Released. Like a wild animal who needs to be kept away from the general public for their own safety.

The officer on the other end—Chief Hopper, you presume—confirms that Eddie is good to go, and a door opens shortly after that. Eddie trudges out, shame and frustration marring his beautiful face.

You sign whatever paperwork is required before silently taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to the car. He holds it tight, a shiver of a tremor rocking through it.

“Babe, what happened?” you ask once you’re safely outside, away from where the officers can hear you.

Eddie lets go of your hand to throw his arm around you dramatically, leaning with his whole body weight. The sudden force of it has you stumbling, but he catches your fall.

“It’s awful being on the inside,” he whines, trying to lay on an exaggerated pout, but his smile pokes through. “You’ve made me too soft for prison, baby. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you and almost got shanked.”

His joke subtly informs you that he’s not ready to actually discuss it yet, and so you roll your eyes and play along for now. “Poor thing. Locked up for a whole forty minutes.”

“It was more like forty-five,” he protests, “and every second counts when it’s spent missing my girl.”

“You’re so full of it, Munson.” My girl. If he never calls you anything else but his girl for the rest of your lives, you wouldn’t complain.

He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in so your back is pressed against his chest. “Full of longing and devotion!”

“Sshh!” you chastise him lightly through your giggling. “Get in the car, crazy man.”

“Crazy ‘bout you!” Eddie says, booping your nose. As soon as your fingers wrap around the gearshift, he’s resting his hand atop yours. It trembles slightly.

Tell me what happened. Don’t keep any more secrets from me. I won’t judge you or leave you. I’m your girl, remember?

It takes a few blocks before you finally work up the courage to ask, “Is everything okay?” It’s a stupid question; you don’t get arrested if everything’s okay, but the alternative is a more straightforward, Why the hell did I have to pick you up from jail?, so you acquiesce.

“‘M good.” He gives your hand another tiny squeeze and attempts a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

You sigh, poorly hiding your impatience for answers you need to know. “Can we talk about what happened?”

His slow release of breath is in sync with your foot pressing on the brake pedal as you approach a stop sign. “Not a big deal. Just a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding that led to you getting arrested?” Stop hiding. Stop pretending. Stop acting like this is fine when it clearly isn’t. Stop making me feel like you don’t trust me. The words get caught behind clenched teeth, threatening to ooze through the gaps.

“Yup.” He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes as though giving a sufficient response to end the conversation.

You drive another few minutes before you spot the sign for Lovers Lake in the distance. There’s only one surefire way to calm his nerves; whatever it is he’s keeping from you, there’s a reason he hasn’t worked up the courage to say it.

Eddie sits up and peers out the window in confusion when you veer to the exit. “Where are we—”

“You’ll see.”

Parking in a spot secluded by trees and the dark of night, you turn to him and stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Can I make my man feel good?” you coo, taking his earlobe between your teeth and tugging lightly. You can feel the small bump where his piercings used to be.

“Shit, baby,” he breathily groans, adjusting the seat so you have ample space to straddle his lap. His hands fly to his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling the leather strip from its loops. Though his pants aren’t as tight around him now, you can still see the outline of his now half-hard cock beginning to press against his fly. “‘S exactly what I need.”

But it isn’t solely the act of sex that he needs, although it would be a farce to imply that he didn’t crave the feeling of you wrapped around him. It was the public nature of it; the way that anyone could walk by and see you on top of him. Could see you choosing him. The teacher choosing the Freak.

You roll your hips, denim-on-denim creating a delicious friction that draws moans from both you and Eddie. Your lips chastely graze his neck, trailing kisses upwards until you reach the prickly stubble along his jawline.

Eddie’s hands grab your ass, claiming it as his. “Feels—mmf—feels good,” he grunts, letting out a soft chuckle when he adds, “gonna make me cream my jeans if you keep grinding on me like that.”

“S’okay,” you shrug, maintaining your tempo. You press your lips to his and he whines into your mouth. “Just wanna ease your mind tonight, Eds.”

“Yeah, but the face you make when you cum? Christ, babe. Makes it even better for me.” He scoots you off of him for a moment, laughing again when he sees your lower lip jut out. “Let me just grab a condom, you needy little thing.”

You bury your head in the crook of his neck and begin sucking on its supple skin as he fumbles for his wallet. “Fine, fine,” you grumble, a teasing lilt in your tone. “The last thing we need is for people seeing that you knocked me up.”

Eddie freezes beneath you, his wallet falling to the weather-mat with a thud. “Wh…what?” His voice is below a whisper, volume compressed by emotion.

“We’ve only been together, like, a month.” It’s too obvious a point to confuse him. There’s no way he really wants a kid with you right now. “We can’t have a baby—”

Eddie vehemently shakes his head, effectively cutting you off. “But that’s not what you said.” You see hurt in his eyes as you try to piece together the puzzle. The fact that you can’t immediately identify the source adds another element of frustration for both of you. “You said that we can’t have people seeing that I knocked you up. Why…why wouldn’t you want people knowing that I…?”

The imagined swell of your belly that he’d hoped you proudly show off, mindlessly caressing it as you walk hand-in-hand with him, is now covered with layers of clothing, even in summer’s heat. You’re tugging a cardigan closed, determined not to let anyone see the shame you’re carrying along with Eddie Munson’s child.

“I just figured you wouldn’t want people talking about you,” you manage, thinking of the rumor that had spread after Harris’s injury. You bring yourself back to the driver’s seat, and it takes another moment before something else dawns on you. “You wouldn’t be upset by people knowing? I mean, not that we’d, y’know, have a kid right now…because you already have one, and this is all so new…” You clamp your lips together to shut yourself up, having already blabbered on for too long.

Eddie shakes his head, tousling his frizzy curls. “Why would I be upset? You’re my girl.” Worry ripples through him, evident through his expression. His doe eyes grow even wider, and he spins his rings around his fingers. One slips and bounces off of the passenger seat, but he doesn’t move to retrieve it. “You still want to be my girl, right?”

“I still want to be your girl,” you confirm, watching his body decompress with relief. “I just don’t want to make things even worse than they are. I mean, you can’t even tell me why you were in jail tonight. That’s a pretty big deal, Eds.” There’s a lump in your throat as you force out your feelings. You hate confronting people, hate drawing information from an unwilling party. But Eddie is your boyfriend, and this is serious. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he mutters, keeping his head on the headrest and eyes trained on in front of him; his unwillingness to look at you serves as an act of defiance. “I had to hear about the PTA meeting from Wayne.”

The contents of your stomach curdle like milk in the sun. “You’d just told me about your promotion,” you stumble, unable to find footing in your meek protest, “I didn’t want to—”

“So, yesterday? Or today?” he pushes, a tango of anger and hurt dancing in his darkened pupils. “You could’ve called me.”

You could have; you’d certainly considered it more than once, but you didn’t want to bother him. It seemed like such an asinine complaint: Oh, Eddie, a grown adult bullied me, another grown adult, at the PTA meeting. Did I stand up for myself? Nope. Just sat there and tried not to sob like one of the kids I teach. “I thought if you knew what people were saying, you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. You’d think I was too much of a burden.”

“You?” Eddie gawps, nearly choking on the word. “You think that you’re the burden? That you’re the reason why people are talking about this?” People. Not just Carol. The information slips from his lips, but he doesn’t catch it. “Nah, Sweetheart. In the equation of ‘Teacher’ plus ‘Freak,’ you’re hardly the problematic variable.”

“‘Teacher plus Freak?’”

“Teacher,” he says slowly, pointing to you, “Freak.” He brings his forefinger to his own chest. “I’m kinda used to it; just sucks when it affects other people.” He looks at you through his soft brown eyes. “People I care about.”

You’re unsure how to respond, so you say nothing. You vaguely recall Jess telling you about his high school nickname, but you had no idea it had stuck after all these years.

Eddie sighs, shifting his position to get slightly more comfortable. “Tonight, I was at the store getting some flowers for you. And, um, I heard Carol and Billy Hargrove talking about how you had to be desperate to be with me. That you’d realize you’re too good for me and leave.” His teeth dig into his bottom lip and he lowers his head. You watch a tear slide down his cheek, and he sucks in a messy breath as he tries to control the dam of emotions threatening to burst.

“Too good for you?” The notion is almost comical, and you have to hold back an incredulous laugh. “Too good for the man who rescued Grandma after she locked herself in her room? Who came to her funeral? Who gave me another chance after I made an ass out of myself?” You use your pointer and middle fingers to tilt his chin upwards until his gaze meets yours. “Too good for the man who would do anything for his son?”

“No,” Eddie shoots back, “too good for the guy who grew up being taunted because he played Dungeons & Dragons instead of basketball. The guy who abandoned his pregnant girlfriend to go on tour. Who treated you like shit just to avoid getting close to you. Who…who got arrested for accidentally taking flowers from Bradley’s because he’d stolen from them so much that no one believed him when he said it wasn’t on purpose.” He recalls swiping candy bars, jars of peanut butter, and the occasional six-pack of Pabst during his rebellious teenage years. After he’d schlepped back to Hawkins, proverbial tail tucked between his legs, there was more than one occasion where he’d ripped diapers from their boxes and tucked them into his jacket pocket, walking as casually as he could until he was a safe enough distance to exhale and run.

You take a sharp breath in. “That’s what happened tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says; the admission is a sack of bricks being lifted from his chest. “Those schmucks got in my head, and I walked out the store with the flowers like a fuckin’ idiot.” He replays the scene in his head, inwardly cringing at his desperation to flee the premises and inadvertently drawing everyone’s attention to him. He starts to laugh, but anger, sadness, and relief all brew together and the dam bursts completely. One tear multiples to two, four, eight, until he’s simultaneously choking on sobs and laughter, the overlapping emotions wreaking havoc on his nervous system.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” he manages through another half-laugh half-sob. He swipes at his cheeks with open palms, and you reach for the travel box of Kleenex you keep in the glove compartment and hand him a tissue. “Thanks.”

“You don’t ever need to apologize to me for crying,” you murmur, barely audible as you press a kiss into his mess of curls just behind his left ear. “I want–I need you to be able to show me what you’re feeling.” Eddie blows his nose, loud and honking, and your lips turn up into a small smile. “Why do we let them get to us?” you wonder aloud, a question more for you than for him.

“I was thinking about that,” Eddie muses, stuffing the used tissue into his jacket pocket. He’ll try and remember to toss it later, but part of him knows he’ll find it there tomorrow. “Like, I didn’t give a damn what they said about me back in high school, but now, as an adult, I do?” He takes a deep breath through his mouth. “And I realized…it’s because I never cared about what they thought of me. Not really. But, fuck, I care about what you think of me.” He swallows before stroking your cheek. “I want to be enough for you.”

You kiss the tip of his nose, letting your lips linger there longer than necessary to ensure the feeling of belonging becomes entrenched in his pores. “You’re enough, Eddie. You’ve always been enough.” Your hands find his, and you lace your fingers together. “I have an idea. Why don’t we grab some takeout, maybe pick up a bottle of wine, and bring it back to my place.” You immediately worry that you’ve proven his point of not wanting to be seen with him, so you quickly backtrack. “We can still go out to dinner; I just figured…after the night you had…”

He silences you with a kiss of his own, nose nudging the side of yours. “I’d love that.” Before you can start the car again, he says, “what Carol said at the meeting…did it really make you think I wouldn’t want to be with you?”

You nod solemnly, breaking his heart all over again. “You already have so much on your plate. I didn’t want to be another problem to deal with.”

Eddie’s expression hardens, but his frustration isn’t directed towards you. It’s for anyone who has ever made you feel like loving you is a chore. He does the only thing he can think of doing: he takes your face in his hands, fingers tucked behind the smooth skin of your ears, and peppers your face in a flurry of kisses.

“Eddie!” you cry out through a fit of giggles. Your eyes squeeze together as his lips tickle your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, your chin.

He only pulls away to take a breath, and when he does, he’s smiling through shiny eyes as he continues holding your face. “You are not a problem. Never.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “We make each other happy. And if anyone tries to fuck with that, we’ll just…sic Harris on them.”

The gray clouds that were scattered across your brain dissipate at the mere idea of the boy charging at Billy and Carol like a miniature rhinoceros. Insecurity still hovers over you, waiting for the perfect blend of sadness and vulnerability to strike, but it’s not quite as heavy as it was before.

You aren’t too much for Eddie, and Eddie is enough for you.

And you’re everything to each other.

taglist:

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @inesven @tanyaherondale @theintimatewriter

#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

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bratzforchris · 2 months

Note

I love dad!Chris, but what about dad!Matt?

Dad Energy ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

Dad!Matt headcanons because he would genuinely be the best father in the world and I have baby fever 😋 No warnings! Enjoy<3

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

𐙚 matt sturniolo is 1000000% a girl dad. argue with a wall.

𐙚 he genuinely gets so excited when you tell him you're pregnant. he's always wanted to be a father, and now he gets to do it with the love of his life<3

𐙚 since multiples are genetic, you'd probably end up with little twin girls

𐙚 shopping for and decorating the nursery is probably the most fun you two have ever had together and matt definitely goes overboard with the toys and decorations

"matt, we have a lamb stuffed animal for both of them, babe"

"but this one has a bow"

𐙚 doing belly photoshoots every week and he always makes sure there's a photo of him kissing your belly because he wants your girls to know that he loves them in every way, shape, and form

𐙚 matt's the most supportive husband during labor; feeding you ice chips, wiping your face with a cool cloth, and holding your hand the whole time. even the nurses and doctors comment on how in love with you he looks and acts

𐙚 he definitely cries the first time he holds your daughters and he isn't ashamed of it

𐙚 "you're going to grow up to be just like me and your uncles"

"oh god, i don't think the world can handle that"

𐙚 when he does the dad walk out of the hospital carrying the carseats and wearing the other parents bracelet...

𐙚 having twins is not easy, but matt is so supportive of you and his babies. whenever they wake up in the middle of the night needing a feed or a change, he gently presses a kiss to your head and tucks in you, saying that he's got it

"you just rest, hun. they'll be okay with daddy for a while"

𐙚 matt always makes funny faces at the girls to make them laugh

𐙚 once they start getting into the toddler stage and are able to play with toys and stuffed animals, he gives them his stuffed animals from when he was a kid<3

𐙚 the twins look just like him with the same fluffy brown hair and bright blue eyes

𐙚 speaking of toddlers, the terrible two's aren't as bad when you and matt handle it together

"how did they get spaghetti sauce behind the refrigerator..."

"they take after chris"

𐙚 both of your daughters are so attached to matt. they love giving him makeovers, making him play barbies and tea party, and every art project they do in preschool says "to daddy!!!" in their baby scrawl

𐙚 matt never, ever raises his voice at them. he knows how bad it can feel to think someone's mad at you, even as a little kid, so he always uses gentle voices and soft coaxing when parenting

𐙚 they LOVE to color in his tattoos and "make them pretty"

𐙚 even though the girls are twins, you and matt both make sure to spend quality time with each of them

𐙚 matt is there for everything. he doesn't miss a single ballet recital, soccer game, or school fair

𐙚 he's not ashamed to do "girly" things either. he'll sit through manicures, hair styling, and come to every daddy/daughter dance

𐙚 "you're the best dad ever, you know that, right?"

"what can i say? marylou raised me well"

𐙚 you definitely have to hold him back the first time one of your daughters get their heartbroken

𐙚 matt never makes his daughters feel bad or weird when they start going through puberty. he loves them just the same and reminds them that it's totally normal. sometimes, he'll even bring them some extra chocolate

𐙚 both girls get matching tattoos with him on their 18th birthday

𐙚 matt would genuinely be the sweetest, most supportive father and husband. he always puts your and your daughter's needs before his own, because he knows he signed up for that, and he's glad to fill those shoes<3

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @mattsfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @stingerayyy2 @strnlvr @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @mayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @idek3000hi @runasvengence

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

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marilynthornhilllover · 8 months

Text

When you call my name. do you think I'll come running? { chapter 6}

+ my heart skips a beat at once

+ when did it end? All the enjoyment...

+ I'm sad again

Alcina dimitrescu x fem!reader

Warning: kidnapping, broken bones , anxiety, depression, implied pain, chronic pain and depression, heavy violence, grief, regret, anger, frustration, sadness, depression. etc HUGE PLOT TWIST. HUGE CLIFFHANGER. read chapter 5 here!

Reader's pov*

You felt as if you've been running for hours on end. Your chest was raising and falling heavily with every breath you took. Your heart was pounding against your chest so hard you thought it would eventually rip itself out and run away. You stopped and held onto a tree, taking a large capacity of air into your lungs - man did it feel nice. You dropped your bag of supplies and sat down on top of it. You looked up at the sky and sighed. Luckily for you, you've made it to the middle of the forest called middle crew, mainly from lyans always hunting in groups and only reaching as far in the middle before hunters killing them off..but you haven't had any encountered any lycans or worse - mother miranda.

You took out some water and began to gulp it down rapidly. After drinking the entire bottle you threw the bottle away but that's when you heard a branch crack. Your entire body froze as you listened again.

Crack

Another twig crunched. At first you thought It was the bottle you threw but now it's clear that it's not. You slowly slid yourself up the tree while getting up - this way you won't make any unnecessary noise to inform your predator what you were doing. You remember alcina saying that lyans can smell fear, it's a natural instinct of them. Since..well before they died fear was all they knew.

You grabbed your bag and pulled it over your shoulder. You looked back and saw no one. You carefully started tip toeing away from your current position. That's when you heard another twig crack, so you immediately froze once again.

" y/n" you heard. Your eyebrows quirk as you dropped your bag. Was your brain playing trick on you? Or was it really alcina? Even if it was why would she call your name so loud, knowing the situation.

"Y/n!" You heard her whisper, but it was almost like a shout. You emerged from behind the tree and saw alcina standing some good distance away from you.

" alcina?" You called out looking at her weirdly. Something about the way she looked made you scared to your bones. Your gut was telling you to run for your life and never look back.... but why?.

Each step you took backwards she followed.

" what are you doing here?" You asked slowly looking for ways you can escape. She chuckled softly and took three steps towards you. She sighed as she looked at the mixture of confusion and fear on your face. She placed her hands behind her as if she was a shy little kid and looked up at you through lidded eyes.

She chuckled again and stood up straight. That's when she gaved you the most sinister smirk and your heart dropped. Alcina started to melt and reform. You watched in horror as her eyes disappeared and her body moved like a snake trying to find its home.

Suddenly miranda appeared infront of you. Needles started piercing through your skin as realization hit you like a moving train at 100 miles per hour.

Miranda can shape-shift....

You didn't know whether or not to run, hide or fall to your knees and beg the earth to save you by opening up and swallowing you - but neither one couldn't save you....

Your breathing started to get expeditious as your body was still trying to process what's happening or rather... what's going to happen.

" Oh little lamb... are you scared?" She asked in a caring voice, almost mocking really. She faked a pout as she took a step closer to you, but stopped dead in her tracks when you backed away. Tears began to form in your eyes as you shook your head in disbelief. You mouthed the word 'no' and miranda let out a squeal of a laugh.

" you didn't really think I was alcina, your so called lover did you?" She asked and when she saw that fear started take it's rightful place in your eyes as your breath got faster she took a step closer to you. Tilting her head to the side, studying your expressions.

" when you call her name.... do you really think she'll come running?" She asked softly walking up to you, until your back hit a tree.

" Well well, dimitrescu really has you under her love spell doesn't she" she chuckled walking around the tree, leaving cravings with her sharp deadly golden talons. She stopped right in front of you and looked at you dead in the eyes. You could feel her blue eyes piercing into your soul, ripping every good thing that was felt in you.

" who is lady dimitrescu?" She asked, her voice now high pitched, startling you. You were basically shaking with fear. No one wanted to die by the hands of miranda. Matter of fact no one wants to die.

" she's not a monster" you whispered, looking at her from head to toe. Dressed in her long sleeve, floor length black dress with a sliver and black cloak with bits of gold across her shoulder that had her coat of arms on it. You realized that her feet could not be seen, there was thick layers of feathers covering them entirely. Although her cloak has a hair vail, you were still able to see her golden blonde-ish grey-ish hair.

" to whom do I speak to?" She asked her voice probably colder than Antarctica and sharper than Russian blades. Miranda spoke in a way that was soft, yet she demanded an answer, she allowed you time to answer, yet punishment for hesitation was always given.

" alcina is not a monster..." You whispered, finding the last bit of courage you had in you to use against the black god standing before you. You would always defend alcina, even though she was who she was. You didn't care if miranda kills you for her, even though you don't want to die you'd take your death. You loved alcina. And you hope she'd do all the things you do for her for you.

" telling me who she isn't, doesn't tell me who she is, a smart girl like you should know that. What are you on earth for? pretty looks? That you certainly don't have? I don't even know how alcina could defy me for you.... your as worthless as Heisenberg.... oops don't tell him I said that. Matter of fact, do tell him. I mean what is he going to do? Hit me with his hammer?" She asked her voice raspy as she laughed like a crazy person.

" how am I going to tell him that?" You asked sarcastically. Miranda stopped laughing and looked at you seriously, before laughing again before it came to a halt.

" That's right little one. Your a nobody, to some you exists and to others you weren't even born" your blood boiled as you looked her dead in the eyes.

" fuck you miranda" you spoke before running off. You didn't know what made you think it was possible to out run mother miranda even though you were a fantastic runner. A super natural force lifted you up off the ground and slammed you against a tree, repeating this process until you were weak.

She grabbed your limp body before it was able to fall to the ground and held you up. She allowed you to fill your lungs with air for a while before she started choking you, lifting your body high above the ground all together. Miranda threw back her head and laughed in your face. You quickly grabbed her hand that was around your neck, slightly pulling it down with any strength left in you, this way she wouldn't kill you on the spot from strangulation.

" why are you running from the heat in the kitchen when your the one that volunteered to cook?" She asked smiling at you innocently. She smiled as you started to trash against the tree, loosing air more quickly than she thought you would.

" you can run but you can't hide, you should know that" she spoke, her voice dark and sultry.

She dropped you. You gasped for air as your body fell from the air but mid way she grabbed a tree trunk that was suitable for her hand and slammed it against your stomach. You felt the impact and screamed. When you fell to the floor that's when you started feeling pain. The pain was unbearable. You thought you were going to die on the spot. For sure she had a broken rib cage. You protected your stomach by wrapping your arms around yourself.

You started crying.

" weak!" She screamed. She angrily picked you up and threw you against a tree. How the fuck did she get this strength you didn't know because if you did you'd go sign up to get it too. You sobbed as you whimpered trying to crawl your way from her.

" YOU HEAR ME?! YOUR WEAK" she screamed more, making the birds that were sitting on the trees fly away as she stepped on your arm breaking it. You cried out very loudly. Miranda froze as she felt the scream in her bones.

" ah yes. The scream of love.... your calling for your lover..... but she's not here is she?" She mocked you as she knelt to be on the same eye leavel as you. She took a strand of sweaty hair that was sticked to your face and placed it behind your ear. She 'tsk' in a cooing way.

" worthless, weak and desperate.... if alcina loved you wouldn't she be here? Oh wait! Let me rephrase.... would she have sent you out here knowing well enough I would be lerking in this forest?" She smirked. " I told alcina theses same words.... with blood and sweat i will find you..." She whispered before standing back up straight.

Your vision started to get blurred as you were starting to lose consciousness. The pain was becoming too much. But upon remembering how much you suffered when you were once in Miranda's captive you tried the fight the pain... and the unfightable force to.. sleep...

" don't fight it my love.... everything will hopefully be alright" that was the last thing you heard, along with seeing miranda's ugly face before you passed out.

Alcinas pov *

Alcina was waken by a sudden loudness of a heartbeat - your heartbeat. She squinted her eyes to see what time it was on her digital clock. She sighed and sat up against her headboard. She looked around her room darkness prorated her eyes. The other side of the bed was cold as ever, regret started to fill her cells in her body, realizationhit her just as it had hit you. The call was late.....

Why hadn't Donna called her yet?

Alcina flew up from her bed and immediately ran out of her room, maids jumping as they moved out the her way as she walked quickly towards her study.

She opened the door, almost pulling off the handle.

" good morning my lady, your up quite early!what would you like for breakfast-"

Slam

Elizabeth stood there stunned but she sighed and went downstairs.

Alcina moved quickly towards the phone in her study and dialed Donna house number.

" PICK UP THE FUCKING PHONE DONNA" she shouted putting one hand on her hip as she held the bridge of her nose with the other. The phone rang for another minute before Donna picked up. The lady one the other line had only gotten up a few minutes ago to get an hour of meditation before sitting down to have her morning tea with her doll, before a ringing of a phone interpreted her peace.

She groaned as she walked swiftly towards the phone and picked it up.

" hello-" before she could answer properly and ask who it was alcina was aleady shouting at her.

"WHERE IS SHE?" alcina shouted through the phone making Donna pull it away from her ear with a whine, from the loudness of the phone.

" good morning to you too alcina, look i'll go look for her later today and bring her to you, i was tired i-" alcina cut her off shouting again.

" LATER TODAY? ITS 2:45 AM DONNA! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE IN THE FOREST SINCE MIDNIGHT, SHES SUPPOSED TO BE CROSSING MIDDLE CREW NOW WHERE MIRANDA LERKS-" alcina was cut off by a blood curling scream.

Only she heard it. She felt it in her heart, she felt the pain, the distress, the confusion, the betrayal, she felt everything you were feeling. She immediately knew mother miranda had already gotten to you. Alcina hang up the phone with Donna and immediately called Miranda's lab line.

The Phone rang out and went straight to voice mail.

"FUCK! ANSWER THE PHONE YOU BITCH" she mumbled to herself. Alcina could feel her very own heart racing from out of her chest. She needed to know you were ok... that you were going to be ok.

She called again and finally miranda answered.

" I knew I would receive a call from my dearest daughter-" before Miranda could go on alcina cut her off.

"WHERE THE FUCK IS Y/N! I SWEAR MIRANDA IF YOU HURT HER I'LL - " alcina stopped as miranda spoke.

" YOU'LL DO WHAT?!" She screamed through the phone. Alcina fell silent knowing there was little to nothing she could actually do, because miranda has you under lock and key protection. Tears started to form in alcinas eyes as she held her forehead in her hands, crying - sobbing.

" Well will you look at that.... the big bad wolf actually crys" miranda said, her voice cracking exposing the sympathy she had for alcina deep down inside. As she spoke up again it disappeared just as it had appeared.

" I told you alcina..... many years ago..... if you can still remember the pain I HAD TO PUT YOU THROUGH.... I told you If you ever dared to go against me that I WOULD TAKE WHAT EVER IT IS THAT YOU LOVE MOST! now your lucky I have compassion for thoses girls and am proud of the young women they became because I gaved them to you and I would not hesitate to cut them down!" She shouted and alcina sobbed into her hand.

She couldn't risk the girls she loved them.... but she also loved you.... your the first person she had ever loved in over a thousand years.

" I want to test her, to see if she can be evas vessel... if not she'll probably turn out like you..." She said coldly but with a hint of of that you'll be Eva's vessel.

" MIRANDA NO PLEASE! SHE'LL DIE IF YOU TEST ON HER! THE MOLD WILL KILL HER ON THE SPOT.PLEASE DON'T HURT HER PLEASE! I'LL GET YOU SOMEONE ELSE FROM THE VILLAGE! I'LL DO ANYTHING PLEASE! I'LL TAKE HER OUT OF THE COUNTRY NO OF US WILL EVEN REMEMBER SHE WAS HERE!" Alcina protested.

" no alcina. I gaved you a chance to get rid of her and you DISOBEY ME! ME!!!" She screamed at the last word as if she was insulted.

" BUT THATS NOT FAIR SHE WAS HALF WAS ACROSS! YOU STOPPED HER!" Alcina shouted.

"TO WHOM DO YOU SPEAK TO!? AFTER EVERYTHING I'VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU HAVE THE AUDACITY TO RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME! YOU UNGRATEFUL PIECE OF SHIT!" miranda shouted. Alcinas heart stopped as she got flashbacks.... that was a sentence her mom used to say alot. Alcina didn't want to become the next reigning queen of the village she wanted to play jazz aboard, but of course that was below her mom's standards for her.

" mother please...." She whispered her voice breaking as tears overflowed her eyes and clouded her vision.

" I love that girl mother...... just as you loved eva" alcina whispered. Hoping in her heart that miranda would give her a second chance or even give you a second chance, it was rare but its also possible.

" I'll take her stand, please mother just don't hurt her...." alcina whisper again.

" she's my one chance of survival and happiness..." alcina muttered choking on her tears.

There was a long silence over the phone of Miranda's end .... alcina thought that miranda was thinking about it.

" NO! I GAVED YOU MANY CHANCES! MY DECISION IS FINAL THERE WILL BE NO ARGUMENT! YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT IS DUE" miranda ended the call and alcina fell to her knees crying and choking on her tears. Alcina felt her heart rip in half.... it had no use now.... it might as well come out of her chest and leave her heartless....

Alcina couldn't stop thinking of you..... she did this to you.... she brought danger to your door. She hurt you. She made you feel pain that you didn't even think was possible to be felt. Alcina felt like she should die.... if your hurting because of her she deserves to die.

Meanwhile you layed on the lab bed in Miranda's personal lab as she stood above you....

She was talking.... you were hearing her, something about was she was about to do would hurt but you weren't listening.... you didn't care. You wanted to die.... you wanted to see alcina one last time before you do. Wanted to hear her voice tell you it's going to be ok but truthfully it's not. Hear her say she loves you.... she misses you.... she just wants to hold you... hear her sing songs in Romanian til you fall asleep... help you pick roses from the garden and kisses your finger when you get pricked.

You knew if she got a chance to speak to you one last time that everything would be lies. Alcina said she doesn't want to hurt you but the phrase ' I love you draga mea' alone has caused you so much pain and hurt.

You felt weak as miranda injected you with some greenish brownish substance.... you couldn't fight it.... you wanted to but why bother.... as miranda said Your a nobody, to some you exists and to others you weren't even born.... there's something called fight or flight.... and right now you were willing to risk it all and chose flight....

You were done fighting.... done loving....

You started twitching and shaking on the table as miranda mumbled 'shit' or and over again as she tried to hold you down but it wasn't working.

" please y/n! Shit! Hey! I can't lose you! Alcina can't lose you! Fight it! Do it for alcina please!" She shouted as she tried containing you but nothing worked. Tears formed in her eyes as she realesed you. With alcinas already raging anger plus this happening miranda was sure that alcina would surely find a way or even strength to kill her....

The heart line went flat, ringing in Miranda's ear ad your body laid there unmoving......

Tag list: @willalovexx @ilovehugslikealotalot @milkiedimitrescu @willowshadenox @heidsworld @enchantressb @moistblobfish @nclgsticore @vampire-s61914 @snkskyler15

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blorbo-adoption-poll · 8 months

Text

Penny poll Round 1 match 5

Penny Lamb/Jane Doe (Legoland / Ride the Cyclone) vs Penelope (Barbie as Rapunzel)

Propaganda under the cut

Penny Lamb/Jane Doe (Legoland / Ride the Cyclone)

• Okay I am not the person to be propaganda making for her but she's so cool she died once and then came back she's also a bit uhh deranged is a good word

——

• Penny Lamb (and her younger brother Ezra) lived in a hippie weed growing commune until she was thirteen and snuck out to a walmart, eventually leading to the entire thing burning to the ground. Then they lived in a tiny town named Uranium City and she got relentlessly bullied and even set on fire until she was given a cd by another girl from a band called Seven Up. She formed a parasocial relationship with the singer, who then turned into a misogynistic rapper. She travelled from northern Saskatchewan to Florida to meet him and thank him for basically making her life tolerable and enjoyable, and then ended up tearing a chunk of flesh out of his face with her teeth all at the age of 15 years old. Two years later after a concert with her school choir, she was beheaded on a fair rollercoaster called the Cyclone, becoming a Jane Doe until she was voted back to life. While she was Jane Doe, she wore the head of a porcelain doll as to not freak the other kids out!

——

• she was born a hippie, she bites and maims a famous rapper with hot coffee, she has a little brother obsessed with german philosophy, she plays the ukulele, she has a fuck ass bob. she gets fucking DECAPITATED by a roller coaster but survives because she is so offputting. what else do you need in a woman

——-

• Where do I START with Penny. Basically she grew up socially isolated on a community pot farm until the age of 13, where she and her brother ran away to Walmart and started pretending to revive him from seizures because of how much attention she got. She was eventually driven back home where the entire community was drug busted burned to the ground, their parents being arrested, friends taken away, entire home destroyed. Instead of being sent to foster care, she’s and her brother are sent to a catholic boarding school, where they live mostly unsupervised. Penny is relentlessly bullied for supposedly being a lesbian, and diagnosed as bipolar and manic depressive while her brother (three years younger than her) sells his adhd medication to college kids to make ends meet. Soon after having her backpack lit on fire by bullies, she starts to fall into a deep depressive episode, not coming out of her room for days, until a catholic girl takes pity on her, and gives her a hiphop/boyband CD for her to listen to called 7-up (important later). Penny obsessed on the lead singer Johnny moon to an unhealthy degree until the band breaks up and Johnny rebrands to JK47, a misogynist gangster rapper who penny can’t stand. Penny and her brother run away from middle of knowwhere Canada to Florida to meet him so penny can win him back and remind him of how much she loves him and how cool he used to be. This doesn’t go well, as he doesn’t drop his gangster persona, calling her the same insult all her previous bullies did, leading to her throwing hot coffee on him, tearing a chunk off flesh out of his face with her teeth, and subsequently being arrested and later out on probation. Penny ALSO gets her own movie (in the play) and tells the audience this very story in a presentation with goofy puppets. Penny’s story is funny and absurd but at the same time incredibly tragic and heartbreaking. She also appears in ride the cyclone where she’s revealed to be the identity of Jane Doe (who had her head cut off before she was found dead in the rollercoaster accident with the other choir kids and was therefor never identified)

———-

• she is a femamist lesbian and I am in love with her

————

• She's known as Jane Doe throughout the musical because she doesn't know who she is in death, her head is a doll's head because she lost her real one in the rollercoaster disaster that killed all the characters, she's the one who wins the prize of coming back from death which is when we learn her true name Penny. Her song is absolutely *beautiful* (The Ballad of Jane Doe) and she is the Penny of all time because I love her

—

• Girlie already lost her head we can’t take her victory too :(

Penelope (Barbie as Rapunzel)

• For the people who’ve never watched Barbie as Rapunzel, it takes a LOT of liberties with the fairytale. Basically forget everything you know about the story, the movie is its own thing. Ok now that we’re all on the same page: Penelope is Rapunzel’s friend, and she’s a dragon. She’s actually the daughter of the dragon guarding Rapunzel’s tower, Hugo, who works for Gothel. She’s very sweet, which is a problem for her father, who wants her to be a “real” dragon, eg fearless and terrifying. At the start of the story, she can’t fly and can barely breathe fire. Her arc involves learning these skills without giving up her idiosyncrasies. Her father eventually acknowledges she’s always been brave in her own way, and their joint arc culminates in him calling her “a mighty dragon.” Hugo is a great morally gray character, but this isn’t about him, this is about Penelope. She’s funny! She’s silly! She’s clever! She’s such a supportive friend to Rapunzel. I know I already called her funny but I’ll say it again: she’s funny!! She’s a badass! She’s one of the highlights of the movie IMO. The scene towards the end in which [SPOILERS] Rapunzel flies on Penelope’s back out of the tower and over the wall is so emotional to me. She’s overall one of my favorite Barbie sidekicks. #PENELOPESWEEP.

• She’s a dragon it doesn’t get cooler than that. She’s funny and cute and silly and a fearsome dragon as I mentioned. She has an interesting dynamic w her father in my opinion and a very heartwarming storyline. One of the best and best-written animal sidekicks in the BCU if not THE best one.

#penny poll #tournament poll #penny lamb #jane doe #legoland #ride the cyclone #barbie #barbie as rapunzel

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voxofthevoid · 3 months

Note

Thank you for enabling my addiction! (You honestly didn't have to, I was just lamenting and had to do *something* or else I'd be crawling up me walls by now)

I do have a question for you though! You write canon divergent stories, do you always write Gojo the same way?

Metaphor: I have 5 different Barbie dolls. They are all barbie but they're all slightly different, and how I *play* with them and give them character varies depending with what I want. One barbie may be more analytical and cold vs. Another barbie that is more sardonic and mean-spirited.

Do you have 1 Barbie that you use for every story, letting that one barbie react to different scenarios or do you have several different barbies depending on what you want.

Cause will admit, between your adult gojos and teen gojos, it's kinda hard to pinpoint is there *is* a varying difference between them, if any.

~Messy, being nosy

Haha, don’t worry, I’m generally one gentle poke away from throwing my ficbits all over Tumblr. I genuinely love sharing and seeing you guys’ reactions 💜

As for your question—yes and no!

The Barbie metaphor won’t work for how I approach this, so let’s go with a very cliched one—a prism. Gojou (and Yuuji and any character I delve into deeply and/or frequently) is a prism to me, and what the story decides is which side of it I’ll focus on. So, in a way, I do always write the same Gojou—similar tastes, similar history, similar choices. The details will vary depending on the kind of canon divergence, plus an assortment of headcanons I pick and choose from, but the way I conceptualize him is essentially the same.

But a blend of the setting (canon period plus the canon-divergence alternations, if any), the plot (background, inciting event, and related developments), and the character interactions (primarily the Gojou–Yuuji romantic/sexual element) is what determines the specifics of his character in a particular story.

For example, little lamb to the slaughter centers his morally dubious side as applied to his desire for Yuuji, with undertones of manipulation and coercion that taper off as the story progresses, while every version of the story (Ao3 version here) dials these aspects up to eleven to the point that the story earns every one of those additional tags and then some. I think the time travel threesome fic is the best for observing the differences and similarities between his teen and adult versions, albeit filtered through the teen one’s rather biased perspective. The similarities dominate, especially when it comes to anything that matters.

And that makes me pretty glad you can’t pinpoint any distinct differences as much! Mission accomplished.

Still, I think the most decisive factor is age. Pre-Toji Gojou, post-Toji Gojou, and canon adult Gojou are all subtly different flavors of the same dish (oops, new metaphor) to me, and if I were to write kid Gojou or early–mid 20s Gojou, the characterization nuances would be different again. The blueprint, however, would be the same.

That all said, full disclosure—I’m an instinctual writer. All the observations above are ones made after the fact. The way I figure out characters is by writing them—serpent tongue was how I got a handle on Gojou, little lamb helped me get deeper into Yuuji’s head, and isolation neophyte was a revelation or ten about Nanami.

And a very big thank you for being nosy because this was hella fun to answer! I’d never considered my approach to characterization from this angle before.

#anon #messy anon #i love my anons #gojo satoru #my fic

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baubeautyandthegeek · 4 months

Text

Errands - Tiffany Valentine/Barb Pierce

A/N: Part 1/4 for @fluffbruary 's bonus prompts.

Nica had known Barb needed help shopping, the quiet shyness of her sister’s footsteps, the small slips and stumbles despite nothing being in the way. Barb needed help to trust herself again. It’s this instinct that makes her reach out to Tiffany Valentine. Tiffany is, of course, bright, loud, lively and brash. Everything Nica and Barb are not. There’s quiet affection in Nica’s smile when Tiffany comes home, her smile softer still when Tiffany holds a hand out to Barb, beckoning her over before tucking dark hair from her eyes, stroking the wounded cheek, the hollow shell of an orbital bone, tenderly, as if it’s beautiful. “Come on then Barbie girl, time we got you some food shopping in…” Barb is about to speak and Tiffany hushes her softly. “Trust me, little lamb.” So Barb does. Shopping isn’t easy of course, Barb is nervous but Tiffany encourages her to shop, keeping her safe and sound, smiling when Barb steals a glance at her. “Are you… staying with us?” “Do you want me to?” “Yes… please.” Tiffany’s smile comes easily. “Alright, you better get some more tomatoes then.” Later, when they get home Barb lets Tiffany see the hidden wounds, Tiffany’s lips soft on a closed eyelid. “My beautiful Barbie doll…” Tiffany’s voice softens. “My pretty girl….” They cook in peace and Tiffany smiles when Barb steals a sweet cheek kiss. She’s home at last.

#tiffany valentine #barb pierce #chucky #child's play #barb/tiffany #tiffany/barb #fluffbruary bonus

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void-botanist · 5 months

Note

Happy STS! If your characters went out to karaoke, which song would they belt out at the top of their lungs?

Finally getting to this one! My mind remains full of Elbas Island so if we pretended that they know Earth music:

Milo: the idea of him doing Barbie Girl with Binna, where he is Barbie and Binna is Ken is just too funny to not be the answer.

Nidilaenn: Major Tom (Coming Home).

Ellery: Poor Unfortunate Souls. He wants to be dramatic about it and he wants you to understand how dramatic he's being about it.

Patience: Hollaback Girl. You know Mel is singing backup.

Mel: Last Dance by Donna Summer.

Tirias: she literally cannot sing so she would either put on a song everyone knows (All Star) and let them sing it while she hams it up or announce that this is a rendition of John Cage's 4'33". These two things get different responses from the audience but they are functionally the same thing.

Ysa: Friends in Low Places by Garth Brooks.

Rae: Any Way You Want It by Journey.

Madge: Sucker by Jonas Brothers.

Rigo: Break My Heart by Dua Lipa.

Haskell: no, I don't do karaoke, no...well, I guess... Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

Lacey: the most heartfelt rendition of Mary Had A Little Lamb you've ever heard.

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rosamundpikegf · 4 months

Text

sorry I just had to put my rant about the Barbie mess somewhere

barbie really exposed how many feminine women, especially white and straight ones but not just them, just do not give a single flying fuck about masculine women at all. it’s so pathetic to watch them act like they’re leading the big feminist revolution by priding themselves on being “unapologetically” feminine, as if femininity is not expected and as if a lack of it is not punished, within families, within schools, work spaces, etc. they happily framed wearing pink and glitter and acting girly and silly as a subversive "healing our inner child" thing, they treated feminism as a mass coming together of women who want nothing more than to be girly together; something they think all women desperately want to do or should do, calling them pick me’s or afflicted with internalized misogyny if they don’t.

they equated "being girls" to wearing bows and giggling and wearing dresses and being "delulu" and having "girl dinner" and being a "25 year old teenage girl" and it´s just so fucking insane to me that they really think their femininity and clinging to a fairy princess "girlhood" is a fuck you to the patriarchy like... they willfully completely ignore the fact that the actually vulnerable ones are gender non conforming women, who experience actual aggression and threats to their safety due to how they look and move through the world, they don´t care, they don´t wanna hear it, they want to be the one and only victim in the entire world and refuse to see that certain kinds of femininity hide a very insidious kind of violence, that white women especially have weaponized for decades.

i am not hyper feminine at all but i know that people still do perceive me as a rather feminine woman because of my hair and make up, and i know that it grants me a certain kind of power in a room, a kind that other more masculine women (for example butch lesbians) don´t have, so i see it as my responsibility to acknowledge that, and to use it to shield them from violence whenever i can.

like how fucking heartless and stupid do you have to be to insist that being feminine is so so hard, like you´re god´s poorest little lamb because some little boy might have joked about your glitter dress in 2nd grade... get over it, other girls were too busy being terrified of being ostracized and brutalized and called a dyke, to care whether anyone made a harmless joke about their outfit or favorite color or whatever the fuck.

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iamaverysadbanana · 4 months

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Oscars 2024 Nominations Thoughts (Part One)

Oppenheimer: 13 nominations

This is going to be the year Christopher Nolan gets an Oscar. "But wait!" you exclaim. "Didn't he already win one!" Contrary to popular belief, no. His movies may have won individual awards, but as for Best Screenplay? No. Best Director? Nope. Best Picture? Nothing. This year is different. Christopher Nolan is going to have his own personal statuette with his name engraved on it, and it will be glorious. Because he deserves it.

Poor Things: 11 nominations

My little bisexual heart belongs to Yorgos the Greek now. Like Christopher Nolan, Yorgos Lanthimos has yet to have an Oscar with his name on it, and unlike Nolan, only one of the awards was given to any of his films (Best Actress for Olivia Colman in The Favourite). This film has everything. It has egg tarts. It has socialism. It has rapists being turned into goats. And it will have Oscars.

Killers of the Flower Moon: 10 nominations

I wish this movie had focused more on Molly and her people's experience. Pretty much all the best parts are scenes that focus on Osage culture, whether it be Lizzie Q's dying dream or the ending sequence of a modern powwow. I'm pretty sure Lily Gladstone is going to win Best Actress this year, but right now, it's looking to be a coin toss between her and Emma Stone for Poor Things.

Barbie: 8 nominations

Yes, Greta Gerwig and Margot Robbie were robbed of nominations for Best Director and Best Actress respectively. However, this doesn't nearly bother me as much as most others because, well, look at their competition. Plus, Ryan Gosling as Ken and especially America Ferrera as Gloria getting nominations is just *chef's kiss* perfect. Also, how hilarious is it that a song originally written by a producer as a joke got nominated?

The Holdovers: 5 nominations

I was only surprised the Oscars recognized this soon-to-be Christmas classic at all. And they should! After the disastrous reception of 2017's Downsizing, Alexander Payne is back with one of his finest films. Paul Giamatti is definitely a strong contender for Best Actor (I'd say it's a coin toss between him and Cillian Murphy for Oppenheimer). Da'Vine Joy Randolph's performance as grieving mother Mary Lamb earned a spot in a category with particularly tough competition this year.

That's my thoughts on all the films I've seen with multiple nominations. My next post will be about films that only got one nomination.

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spela-melodier · 11 months

Text

Klicka på namnet för att komma till låten. Ju fler stjärnor, desto svårare låt!

🔒 = kommer snart

Visor

Spanien ⭐

Köp varm korv ⭐

Kattlåten ⭐

Gently Sleep ⭐

Au Clair de la Lune ⭐

Lilla snigel ⭐⭐ NY!

Sailor on the sea ⭐⭐

Mary had a little lamb ⭐⭐

Björnen sover ⭐⭐

Blinka lilla stjärna ⭐⭐

Hej sa Petronella ⭐⭐

Broder Jakob ⭐⭐

Peace like a river ⭐⭐

Deep in the Heart of Texas ⭐⭐

Oh When the Saints ⭐⭐

La Cucaracha ⭐⭐⭐

Musiklektion ⭐⭐⭐

Kära lilla Lisen ⭐⭐⭐

Januari börjar året ⭐⭐⭐

Du gamla, du fria ⭐⭐⭐

Var snäll mot varandra 🔒

Hör du ekot? 🔒

Herr Ohlsson 🔒

Byssan lull 🔒

Astrid Lindgren

Lille katt ⭐⭐

Pippi Långstrump 🔒

Sjörövarfabbe 🔒

Fattig bonddräng 🔒

Alice Tegnér

Mors lilla Olle 🔒

Bä bä vita lamm ⭐⭐

Ekorrn satt i granen 🔒

Sov du lilla vide 🔒

En sockerbagare 🔒

Tre pepparkaksgubbar 🔒

Film och TV

Shave and a haircut ⭐

Peppa Pig Theme ⭐⭐

My Little Pony ⭐⭐⭐ NY!

Heja Bamse ⭐⭐⭐ NY!

Jurassic World ⭐⭐⭐

Star Wars Theme ⭐⭐⭐

Imperial March 🔒

Ghost busters 🔒

Mission Impossible 🔒

Hajen (Jaws) 🔒

Rugrats ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Indiana Jones ⭐⭐⭐️⭐

Hedwig's Theme ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Rosa Pantern ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Vaiana / Moana ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Greveholm 🔒

Jönssonligan 🔒

Pirates of the Carribbean 🔒

Axel F (Crazy Frog) 🔒

My heart will go on (Titanic) 🔒

20th century fox 🔒

Spel och internet

Baby Shark ⭐

Minecraft ⭐️ NY!

Tetris ⭐⭐⭐

Wellerman ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Pokemon Route 1 ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Megalovania ⭐⭐⭐⭐

Super Mario ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Zelda: Kokiri forest 🔒

Coffin dance 🔒

Spooky scary skeletons 🔒

Gummy bear 🔒

Populärmusik

Faded ⭐⭐

Still Dre ⭐⭐

Gangsta's Paradise ⭐⭐ NY!

Real Slim Shady ⭐⭐⭐ NY!

Guld och gröna skogar ⭐⭐⭐

The Scientist ⭐⭐⭐

Careless Whisper ⭐⭐⭐⭐ NY!

Love me tender 🔒

Never gonna give you up 🔒

I was made for loving you 🔒

Smoke on the water 🔒

Seven nation army 🔒

Final Countdown 🔒

Take on me 🔒

Popcorn 🔒

Barbie girl 🔒

Mamma Mia 🔒

Piano klassiker

Bach: Toccata ⭐⭐ NY!

Kalle Johansson ⭐⭐⭐

Kalle Johansson del 2 ⭐⭐⭐

Chopsticks ⭐⭐⭐

Heart and Soul ⭐⭐⭐

Can Can ⭐⭐⭐ NY!

Beethoven: Für Elise ⭐⭐⭐⭐

The Entertainer ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Vivaldi: Spring 🔒

Brahms: op44 🔒

In the mood 🔒

Julmusik

Carol of the bells ⭐

Jingle bells ⭐⭐

We wish you a merry 🔒

Nu tändas tusen 🔒

Last Christmas 🔒

Övrigt

Retstickan ⭐

McDonalds ⭐

Glassbilen ⭐⭐

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syrinq · 1 year

Text

sy's Fun Reflective Post On Idk 90s Toys And Shit Or Whatever

glass deco

the shit you'd draw on some plastic, peel off and then put on a window. fucking awesome. 90s kid version of forbidden edible tidepod or whatever. the minus is that it'd eventually dry up and fall off and be utterly useless. I Wish I Could Have It Forever

2. the water ring things

especially if they had a little landscape like with idk dolphins and glitter. this shit was fucking lit. the gentle SWOOSH of the water and the rings going uppity and blah blah blah. awesome. fucking lit. a child's cocaine supply or something

3. wooden snake

whirling this around and getting your fingers stuck in it and it hurt a little but then you do it again because it feels funny. and also shaking it for the wooden snake noise. this hsit is aweosme

4. barbie/generic doll shoes

youtube

see video. seriously i don't even care about barbies i just wanted the shoes for that reason. (also reason i loved bugles besides eating them because they were like witch nails)

5. mega bloks dragon

PEEL THE EGG PLACENTA OFF AND MAKE YOUR NEW DRAGON!!!!!!! POSE HIM!!! FLAP HIS WINGS!!!!! FUCKING AWESOME

6. water dinosaurs

PUT AN EGG IN A GLASS OF WATER WAIT FOR 3 DAYS OR WHATEVER AND GET YOUR NEW STUPID WRINKLY SON THAT FEELS WET AND FUCKING WEIRD TO THE TOUCH! SO WEIRD THAT YOU DO THIS MULTIPLE TIMES & THEN TEAR OFF ITS LIMBS AND DUMP IT IN THE TRASH! COOL AND UTTERLY AWFUL!

7. the plastic puzzle shit that's really just a predecessor to lego

WHY WAS THIS ONLY FOR 4-6 YEAR OLDS. THIS SHIT WAS LIT. I MADE SO MANY TOWERS OF JUST CUBES IT WAS FUCKING AWESOME

8. rush hour

THE FEELING OF MOVING THE SILLAY LITTLE PLASTIC VEHICLES OVER THE BOARD AND GETTING IT OUT WAS SO AWESOME. YOU DON'T GET THIS ON A STUPID MOBILE APP WHATSOEVER.

9. play sand

COLOURFUL. MIXING COLOURS. THE FEELING OF SAND BUT IT DOESN'T GET STUCK TO YOUR STUPID ASS FINGERS! AWESOME

10. play dough

enjoying + hating the smell of these things at the same time. KNEADING FUN. MIXING COLOURS FUN BUT THEN IT RESULTS INTO POOP BROWN AND TODDLER-YOU IS KIND OF UPSET AS TO WHY IT'S POOP NOW

11. predecessor to tennis idk

the colours were nice. other than that these things kinda fucking sucked ass

12. marbles but they have a playground

fuck playing marbles with other kids during lunch like you're playing fucking billiards. THIS IS WHERE IT'S AT. ROLLERCOASTER FUN PLAYGROUND PARK ETC. FOR MARBLES. FUCKING AWESOME. FUCKING LIT. I LOVE THIS

13. the sketch thing

everything you draw on it looks horrible and if you draw enough there'll always be remnants of pen strokes. but it was cool.

14. stinky rubber bouncy balls

you bounce them around you accidentally hit your head with it and then you also scratch or possibly chew off parts of it because. i don't know. candy ball.

15. apparently called rubber poppers

annoying ass cunts

16. squishy water anything

bonus points if it has animals or wiggly things or whatever in it. awesome. fucking lit.

17. groan tube

also known as the kid's equivalent of an evil trumpet light saber weapon. why is it called a groan tube. that's the stupidest name i've ever heard of. anyway these things were awesome

18. those rubber things that you make things with

why is it called scoubidou and why did everyone make helicopters

19. the empty doll books that you could draw clothes on

very cool very swag. i sucked at it tho

20. apparently they're called jelly sandals???

utterly fucking AWFUL. a tool to not slip in swimming pools or just general shoe usage. DISGUSTING. poking in your skin 24/7. disgusting. awful texture. hate these.

21. anything webkinz but it's not webkinz

plush... online pet...... the best fucking wombo combo shit you could ever have as a kid. fucking awesome. and then all those virtual pet sites had to go die off or whatever and i'm still incredibly salty about that as an adult. look at that lamb..... my pathetic wet sad summer child i had when i was idk 7

22. magnetix

fucking killer things these. unless you drop a stick and it's lost forever and then it's Good Bye My Friend

alright i'm done my brain has lost thinking capacity on this topic goodbye

#sy.txt #sy's shenanigans

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minipjs3 · 3 months

Link

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Barbie had a little Lamb.

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karenlacorte · 4 months

Link

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Barbie Had A Little Lamb.

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darklordofpoetry · 4 months

Text

To the girl I used to be:

I'm sorry

But also

I'm not at all

I'm sorry I stole your childhood and found my happiness in nerf guns and barbie dolls

I'm sorry I didn't grow up sooner and

I'm sorry you had to

I can apologize for my actions but I can't apologize for theirs

Even if their actual apologies are empty and stagnant

What changes with the new year if not me?

My shoes and my job hypothetically

The ailments and twisted thoughts change frequently and I am no one again

I'm sorry, beautiful girl, you were one in a million and I

Slaughtered you my little lamb

I will love you even if no one else will

I will hold your hand against the tsunami and remind you to keep your prayers

Close to your chest

Your chest, my chest

Still a little bigger but you would've loved that you still kind of do

My dear, your chest is heaving with a heavy healing

And you'll find yourself one day

He might look a bit different

But he feels the same.

#trans #poetry #transman

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ashposhmarkley5 · 6 months

Link

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Collector’s Edition Barbie Mary Had A Little Lamb NWT 🩵.

0 notes

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