Made Me Giggle

Made me giggle

all the Deli Fives: *trying to figure out how to fix the timeline and stop the apocalypse*

Brisket Five in the kitchen:

I will cry until my eyes bleed

They’re so cute😭😭😭😭😭

Babysitting Mun | Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie Munson is the rockstar you have to work for, but most of the time, you feel like you are babysitting a teenager. He's messy, wild, and disobedient, and he never calls you by your name. He's sweet, though, but you are not allowed to think about that. Or in his smart mouth. Or in his hands playing that stupid guitar, shit.

A/N: I didn’t expect anyone to dig this story, but it seems like there were a lot of us craving a fanfic of Eddie Munson as a rockstar and a bit of a pain in the ass. Hope you guys enjoy it! Also, feel free to request to be in the tag list!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Interview | Part 8

Eddie’s trailer looked way better from the outside than it did inside. Sure, it wasn’t about to collapse or anything, but it was clearly run-down. You could tell no one had been here in ages. When you stepped in behind Eddie and saw the ceiling crack with some shoddy plaster job, you freaked out. You glanced at Eddie, who had strolled in casually, not at all fazed by the mold, darkness, or dust—a clear sign of neglect.

"NOPE” you said firmly, and Eddie turned to you after fiddling with the kitchen sink taps.

He knew exactly what you meant.

“Oh, c’mon, Fey.”

You shook your head.

“No. I’m calling Steve,” you declared. “Or Wayne, or someone, God.”

“Hey,” he started to protest. “I can crash like a champ here, trust me.”

“I’m not worried about you being able to sleep here. I’m worried that with all this mold, moisture, and dust, you might suffocate and not wake up,” you clarified, pulling out your phone and starting to dial Steve’s number. You looked at Eddie seriously. “You’ve got a dozen friends here, and if you didn’t want to stay at Wayne’s, there are other places. Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

“I haven’t complained about sleeping here,” he replied flatly, as if he was exercising every ounce of patience he had with you.

“You don’t have to; your trailer is doing it for you,” you shot back, ending the call as you closed your Motorola StarTAC. You’d try again once you convinced Eddie that staying here alone with no security was a terrible idea.

“Fey, this is my home,” he snapped. “I don’t see why I can’t stay in my own place when I come back to this town.”

“Why not…? I’ll tell you why,” you began walking around the inside of the trailer, listing off all the reasons he couldn’t seem to see. “The curtains are practically see-through, there’s literal duct tape over broken windows,” you pointed out. “This place is full of dirt and cobwebs; there’s mold on the walls, and should we talk about the elephant in the room?” you gestured to the massive crack. “The ceiling’s about to come crashing down.”

Eddie looked at you impatiently and rolled his eyes slowly with a sigh.

“The ceiling’s not caving in, trust me. It hasn’t before, and it sure as hell isn’t now.”

You huffed, frustrated.

“You’re impossible.”

He groaned irritably, shoving his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket.

“Damn it, Fey. You’re acting like I’m asking you to stay the night here, and I’m not,” he argued. “And don’t you dare call someone. I’m not a bum. If I wanted, I could book a hotel—hell, I just footed the bill at Enzo’s tonight,” he snapped, his tone edging on anger.

“I didn’t say you were a bum—”

“’Cause I’m not!” he cut you off. “And I’m not running away, either,” he added defensively.

You frowned, genuinely concerned this time.

You had dinner at Enzo’s tonight. Of course, in your effort to keep your distance from whatever was happening inside you (you didn’t want to think about it too much because you didn’t want to know. You mean, that darn interview...nope, you were not thinking about that interview like never), you stayed physically away from Eddie, questioning your weakness—why you couldn’t say no to coming to Hawkins to hang out with his friends and family as if they were your friends and family. Why, when you knew you should’ve kept things strictly professional, you ended up following him to his hometown, the place he never seemed to want to return to. In fact, if it hadn’t been for Robin and Steve, you would’ve been like a piece of furniture at a long, elegant table in an old, prestigious restaurant. And it wasn’t because the rest weren’t kind to you—they were too kind; they were…terrifying. Because they were a family, and you didn’t have one. That scared you. But something was up with Eddie, and being too focused on how everything made you feel made you overlook the fact that since arriving in Hawkins a few hours ago, something was bothering him.

You stepped closer to Eddie, hoping he’d notice the symbolic white flag you were waving.

“Mun,” you spoke softly. “No one said you’re running away,” you added firmly, and finally, Eddie seemed to realize he’d been getting worked up defensively for the last minute and a half.

“I know,” he murmured. “Can you… Can you drop it, Fey?”

You silently shook your head.

“No, I can’t,” you replied, and that was enough for Eddie to let out another groan. “Wait, I’m serious. This isn’t right,” you pointed around. “Trust me, it’s not about it being a trailer or being in a trailer park. It’s about you being a well-known singer in a popular band, with no security, in a trailer that’s falling apart. If I knew this place was safe, trust me, I’d already be in my own hotel room, soaking in a bathtub, eating brownies with ice cream, and reading some trashy novel I’m not proud of, but that’s not the case…”

Eddie blinked quickly.

“I know I said I brought you along as my assistant, but I’m starting to regret it.”

You crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow with determination.

“You think I’m making a fuss because I’m your assistant?” you snapped and let out a huff. “I’m doing it because I care about you, idiot,” you whispered the last insult. “Munson, I don’t know what your deal is with this trailer, and I’m not gonna pry, but I’m not letting you crash here and put yourself at risk,” you said, frowning so hard your head was starting to hurt. Or maybe it was Eddie giving you a headache.

“Fey, c’mon… I thought we were past this,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, and you rolled your eyes.

“Have you heard the conversation we’re having? I think we’re going in circles,” you muttered, starting to lose patience again.

“Break the circle then; take the car keys and get outta here,” he spat, his voice calm, but his demeanor showing he was getting pissed off again.

You planted your feet firmly on the ground and crossed your arms, standing in front of him again.

“I’m not going anywhere. In fact, I’m gonna get my stuff because I’m staying here,” you said, licking your lips with determination.

“You’re serious?” Eddie dropped his hand from his nose to look at you.

You clicked your tongue.

“Of course, I’m crashing on… that couch,” your eyes landed on the dingy brown couch in the small trailer living room. If it wasn’t covered in spiders and dirt, you might’ve been tempted to try it out because it looked like it was comfy enough to house a tenant back in the day.

Eddie let out an incredulous laugh.

“Alright, Fey, make yourself at home,” he invited you with a smug little grin on his face, like he was sure you’d give up right away.

“Get ready for a sleepover. I might even braid your hair again,” you teased, and he shot back with a mock grimace. You smiled. “I’m gonna get my stuff then,” you said, turning toward the door, taking firm and confident steps, but hoping, oh please, God, if you’re out there, that he’d stop you and drop this stubborn act of his.

You opened the faded wooden door and took a step outside. That’s when you heard Eddie’s irritated sigh, and you could almost imagine him looking up at the cracked ceiling of his trailer in resignation.

“FU-FINE!,” he snapped, clearly pissed off.

You smiled victoriously but quickly tried to mask it with a serious look. You turned towards him and walked into the trailer.

“Thanks for understanding,” you replied with genuine relief.

He seemed upset, and it looked just as genuine.

“Noooo, Fey-wild, thanks a ton,” he said sarcastically. “It’s just a blast that you can also understand me,” he added, his gaze cold and direct.

Then he grabbed his small bag, the one that held all his clothes, his B.C. Rich, and stormed out of the trailer in just two giant steps. You stayed there, right next to the door, letting out a frustrated and almost guilty sigh before turning off the light and closing the trailer behind you. You headed to the rented car, got into the black Volkswagen Golf, and put the keys in the ignition, convinced you had done the right thing, but why the hell did you feel bad? You were damn well looking out for him, and if he was too ungrateful to see that, it wasn’t your problem.

Right?

You straightened up in the leather seat and looked towards his old but well-kept Chevy Van, which hadn’t moved an inch. Eddie seemed frozen in his seat, staring at the dark, cold trailer from inside his car. You watched him for a few seconds, debating with yourself, trying to convince yourself that you had done the right thing. You cared for him. You prevented a potential incident; Eddie is, however, so insuffer—

“Damn it,” you cursed under your breath, pulling the key from the ignition and stepping out of the car. You locked it and walked toward the van. Suddenly, the cold had set in Hawkins, and you hugged yourself as you reached the passenger door, knocking on the window with your knuckles. Eddie snapped out of his daze and reluctantly opened the door, letting you jump in quickly. The two of you sat in silence for an uncomfortable moment. You knew he wouldn’t be the first to speak. You looked around, noticing a pair of Dungeons & Dragons dice hanging from the rearview mirror, trying to find the right words to start a conversation.

“I'm sorry, okay?” was the first thing that came out of your mouth, but you didn’t look at him when you said it, your eyes, like his, still fixed on the trailer.

“Thanks, Fey, I can tell you really meant that,” he replied with a smile meant to be ironic despite the feigned sweetness in his eyes.

You looked at him with a sharp turn of your head. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be, please?”

Eddie was now looking at you too, and despite everything, his eyes had taken on a hint of sadness. You saw the clean expression on his face; he wasn’t wearing any makeup, and his hair was perfectly combed.

You pressed your lips together, hesitant. “Why do you want to stay in this place?” you finally asked. That question had been floating in your mind ever since Eddie decided to stay in Indianapolis instead of with his uncle, whom he even called ‘Dad.’

“It’s me,” he finally responded, somewhat nervously, running his fingers through his hair in discomfort. You looked at him, feeling sorry for not understanding what he meant. “This trailer; it’s me; insecure, lost, and broken. The reason it’s like this is… partly my fault,” he said. “Do you know why there’s a crack in the ceiling?”

You wetted your lips and nodded. You knew; you knew about the murder accusations against Eddie that were later proven false. You knew about the blonde cheerleader who had died in that trailer that night, and because of that, you couldn’t understand why Eddie wanted to torture himself this way.

“Yes, Christy?” You reply doubtfully.

“Chrissy Cunningham,” he corrected you and looked back at the trailer as if he could relive everything just by looking at it.

“It wasn’t your fault,” you murmured.

“She wanted drugs, something strong to forget… probably all the shit happening in her life. I should have told her no. But it was Chrissy Cunningham, the queen of Hawkins High, she was kind and sweet, and I was a… loser who couldn’t graduate, whose friends were mostly kids; the freak of Hawkins High,” he described himself with disdain. “How could I say no?” he asked. “So I brought her here, and when I saw what was happening, I ran away, like a coward; I fled.”

“You couldn’t have predicted it,” you replied confidently. “The TV said that guy, the one who disappeared and came back deformed… damn,” you muttered, somewhat confused, unable to believe it actually happened and to remember his name. “He killed all those people, right?”

“Yes, he opened that damn crack.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but you kept talking, determined to try to reason with Eddie.

“And he would have done it with Chrissy anywhere. Hey, she could have been safe in her room, and he would have killed her, Mun,” you reminded him. “And I hate to be the one to say this, but you can’t freeze time in that trailer, torture yourself, and expect it to change anything,” you spoke with compassion.

“I can’t forget it, Fey. If I forget it, it’ll stop hurting, and it has to hurt, I deserve it,” he whispered.

Your chest tightened; this was much sadder than you thought. And of course, it was hard for you to see him sad when all you knew of Eddie before Steve’s party was his sarcasm, twisted humor, smirks, and self-protective indifference.

“It’s okay,” you murmured, taking a deep breath and at the same time a gulp of courage. “Did I ever tell you I was raised by my grandparents?” you asked, looking at the sun visor while fiddling with it uncomfortably.

“No.”

You nodded.

“Yeah, since I was 13, they took care of me after my parents died.”

Eddie looked at you, somewhat confused, and suddenly felt sad for you.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely. “I didn’t know.”

You shrugged, trying not to bring tears into the conversation. Once you started crying, there was no turning back, and this was already too intimate.

“I hadn’t told you,” you replied. “They died in a car accident. We were arguing, and my mom took off her seatbelt to cover me. The car flipped a few times… yeah, I was in a coma for two weeks, and they say they died instantly,” you narrated. “That’s good, I mean, the doctors say they didn’t suffer,” you clarified, clearing your throat. “I don’t even remember why the argument started. I just know I started it and… finished it, and that thought stayed with me for many years,” you whispered nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear. “That I killed my parents,” you said in a faint voice that Eddie tried to soothe by placing his hand on your knee, the warmth of his palm seeping through your jeans, and the circles he traced eased the sudden pain you always felt when talking about your parents. “I thought I should isolate myself; that I deserved it; that this was how I’d pay for what I did and prevent anyone else from suffering because of me. It took me a long time to understand that the rain that day, combined with the fog, was a lethal combination, and it wasn’t my fault, even though one always tries to find someone to blame when catastrophes happen,” you swallowed hard to keep talking. “I spent a long time believing I had to pay the price for a sin I didn’t commit, crying alone, thinking maybe the tears would lighten the burden of the pain,” you shook your head, placing your hand on Eddie’s, which still rested on your knee. “I don’t know if it’s the same for you, but I think we’ve got it all wrong. It’s not about torturing ourselves forever.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Fey. You were just a kid,” he reminded you.

You nodded, feeling a tear slip down your cheek and quickly wiping it away with your hand.

“So were you,” you replied, meeting his gaze. His eyes seemed a bit glassy, but you couldn’t tell if it was from your story or his own feelings. “And it was something you couldn’t control.”

“I was 21.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “and it’s been a while since then.” You wiped away another tear, adjusting yourself in the seat to face him, taking his hand between yours. You wanted to comfort him, tracing circles over the back of his hand, feeling the metal of his rings. “You should feel a little more empathy for that Eddie Munson from back then—the one who didn’t know what he wanted, who was alone and witnessed the murder of someone he cared about. The one who survived. Just think about it—those scars you have were once open wounds he had to deal with.” You released his hand and leaned back against the seat, taking a deep breath.

Eddie watched you. You looked so small, and he wasn’t mad at you anymore. The relentless sense of uselessness seemed to lift. He wanted to make things right—not have to go back to that run-down trailer because he didn’t think it was right to fix it up. But he felt like he deserved that wound to heal, if we’re sticking with the analogy.

“And what if… I promise to try and forgive myself if you promise the same?” he asked, somewhat hesitant.

You let out a long sigh, which eventually faded into the silence inside the van. You nodded, wiping away the lingering dampness on your face.

“Yeah, we could do that. What do you think, Mun? You promise to give it a shot?”

He extended his hand toward you, and you caught it halfway.

“I promise,” he said confidently, flashing you one of his charismatic smiles.

“I promise,” you replied, quickly letting go of his hand. If you kept holding on, it would get harder to ignore the electric pins and needles that prickled every time he touched you.

“Thanks, Fey,” Eddie said, feeling lighter with his hands on the steering wheel. “You’d think after all these years, it’d get easier to talk about all this, but…”

The sentence trailed off, and he seemed unable to finish it.

“Maybe you should try talking to your friends or Wayne. He seems worried about you, and I haven’t seen you this happy in a long time, especially now that you’re with them,” you encouraged him. “Besides, there’s no one else in the world who could understand you better than they do,” you added with a smile.

“Did you mean that, Fey?” Eddie asked, glancing at you without letting go of the steering wheel. He seemed affected, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “That you worry about me?”

Your stomach churned.

“I’m your assistant, Mun,” you smiled, recalling the line he’d thrown at you at his house. “You pay me to assist you, not to be your motivational coach.”

Eddie chuckled, rolling his eyes as he turned on the van.

“Very funny, Fey,” he said, checking the rearview mirrors. “Go grab your stuff. I’m not letting you drive alone back to the hotel. By the way, Wayne had a room all set up for you. You’re breaking his heart.”

You shook your head with a laugh and hopped out of the van to fetch your things from the rental car. When you returned with your bag, making sure the car was securely locked, you got back into the van and buckled up.

“You think it’ll be safe here?”

“You know when the last time someone stole a car around here was?” he asked with a grin. “1986, babe—the year I graduated high school and split from here.”

You burst out laughing, as expected of Eddie Munson—bold and always charming. Eddie heard your laugh and felt a strong sense of déjà vu tugging at him, filling him with a strange urgency he’d felt at the party.

“I’ll trust you,” you said as Eddie pulled the van out of the trailer park and onto the dark road surrounded by thick trees. “You know, maybe you could use the room Wayne set up for me. I bet he’d be over the moon if you stayed there with him.”

He hummed in response and finally nodded.

“Alright, Fey, enough with the hints, please,” he asked with sarcasm. “What do you want from me?” He flashed you a charming smile and batted his eyes.

You rolled your eyes but smiled back, realizing it was hard to decide what answer to give him.

“Stay with Wayne. Stay with your old man. You’ll make him happy.”

He looked at you for a few seconds before turning his gaze back to the road.

“Fine, milady. Thou hast played thy dice well and hast won the battle,” he said dramatically. “But I have one humble request,” he added.

You raised an eyebrow. “What request?”

“Cancel the hotel, and stop being so stubborn,” he asked, this time without the playful accent.

“Munson…” you tilted your head. “…it’s not a good idea.”

“And why not? This time, you won’t have to take care of me. I’m not drunk… yet.”

You smiled, amused.

“It’s not that, Mun… you don’t need me, and you know it. I’m here because you wanted me here, and I was weak enough to accept coming along. But technically…”

“Technically…” Eddie mocked, “technically, it’s me who decides whether I need you or not,” he clarified. “And what if I suddenly crave some Norwegian water with a twist of lemon? Or if I need you to shuffle some dates around between gigs? I don’t know, Fey, an assistant need might pop up at any minute.”

“You’re making all that up,” you complained, feeling your stomach churn again.

DAMN, DAMN, DAMN, DAMN HIM.

“Only I know, Fey. And besides, what if I am? It’s been fun having you around with my friends, and honestly, the only person who gives me a run for my money in arguments is you. My friends have already given up trying to convince me not to do dumb stuff,” he added, then looked at you with determination. “Come stay with Wayne and me. You’re possibly the only girl who plays hard to get when I invite her over.”

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. DAMN HIM TO HELL.

“I-it’s not the same,” you cursed yourself, your voice trembling.

He noticed, judging by the little smirk on his face.

“It is, technically,” he repeated, “but in theory, you’re a girl, and I’m asking you to come home with me. Or maybe I should head back to the trailer again? You’d never know.”

You flared your nostrils in frustration, momentarily forgetting your sudden dizziness.

“Now you’re manipulating me,” you warned.

“I’m running out of persuasive tactics, Fey. You’re a tough nut to crack.”

You bit your inner cheek nervously and finally nodded. It was a moment of weakness, and you gave in. Maybe you’d regret it later, or maybe not. Maybe it was true, and Eddie really needed you.

“I need to go to the hotel to cancel the reservation.”

“To the hotel, then, and afterward, we’ll head to Wayne’s.”

That was enough to please him. He had already conceded earlier by letting you win the battle, so you’d count your blessings. You fiddled with his radio, earning his complaints, but even when you left the station on one that was playing “Angel Eyes” by Wet Wet Wet, he didn’t intervene to break your groove. In fact, he even sang along, blaming Steve and his taste in music. When you got out of the van, just outside the small but classy hotel where you were staying, you said goodbye to him.

An idea crossed your mind, but as you stepped out of the car and bit your lip, you debated whether to say it out loud.

You turned to look at Eddie, and smiled at him.

“I wasn’t lying,” you said, “I… I really do care about you.” The words hung in the air between you, leaving Eddie speechless, unable to respond. You smiled, feeling a bit embarrassed, and waved goodbye to him. “I’ll be right back.”

He smiled, a small, weak smile, but it was there.

“I knew it, Fey. I knew deep down, I’m more than just a job.”

You rolled your eyes and started walking toward the hotel entrance.

“Sure, Mun. Sure.”

Tag list: @sapphire4082 @that-daughter-of-hephaestus @darknesseddiem @kikiandbella

Great big stars

Warnings: underage drinking, cursing, not proofread

Pt 1 pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

<3<3<3<3<3

Some years earlier

You hadn’t meant to get as drunk as you did, and you knew getting this drunk could only lead to bad things but you didn’t care. The only thing you could focus on, drink or not, was that he was over there with her.

“I think you’ve had enough.” He says in your ear but you don’t care. You had half forgotten he was there at all.

“I’m fine, Edward.”

“Are you though?” Eddie asks, attempting to swipe the beer from you but you moved it away.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you haven’t stopped staring at that jerk since our set was over.” Eddie sighs, rolling his eyes. You had been like this for weeks. Combative, surly and somewhat hostile. All over some douche who didn’t treat you right in the first place.

“Whatever.” You grumble, dropping a few bills on the counter and walking away from the bar, Eddie following closely behind.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. I wanna go to bed.” You whine and Eddie shakes his head.

“You Can’t drive right now sweetheart.”

“Like hell I can.” You mumble, grabbing your keys and fumbling with your car door.

“Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

“But my car.” You pout, tears springing to your eyes and eddies heart squeezes.

“Gareth can drive it over to yours and you can come stay the night with me. We’ll have a sleepover and watch those terrible movies you love and listen to the Smiths.” He offers, trying his best to soothe you.

“You said the Smiths are too sad.” You sniffle.

“But I didn’t say I didn’t like them. Come on, sweetie.” He helps you into the van and goes to give gareth your keys.

When he gets back you’re crying, it’s only then that he notices that Jason and Chrissy have made their way outside of the bar.

Eddie had no idea why they were here. This wasn’t exactly their scene.

“Hey, sweetheart. Look at me.”

“Why-why does he like her? She didn’t used to be his type, why is she his type now? Why is it- why was she better than me? Why’d he-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, she’s not better than you, I promise. He just changed, people just change.” He pulls out of the parking lot in a hurry, trying to get you away from them.

He hears your faint sniffling and he has to do his best not to turn around and kill that jackass.

He knew why Jason had left you. He didn’t hate Jason before all this but he wasn’t his biggest fan. Freshman year had been Jason pulling back from you slowly, going from a well intentioned gangly boy to a hierarchy obsessed jackass.

You weren’t on his level anymore. Chrissy was. It was that simple. It was shitty.

By the time Eddie got you home you had calmed down, staring out the window and watching the trees run away from you.

When the two of you walked in, Wayne was packing his break time meal. And when he saw the state you were in, he stopped.

“What happened?”

“Nothing Wayne, she’s just tired.” Eddie responds and Wayne shakes his head.

“She can speak fine for herself. What’s going on, dear? Was it that boy?” He asks and you halfheartedly nod.

“Before you do anything- don’t. She won’t even let me handle it.” Eddie warns him and Wayne deflates slightly, turning his attention back to you.

“Okay. But if you change your mind, just say the word, pumpkin.” He kisses your forehead and goes back to his lunch, letting Eddie lead you to his room.

He puts an old movie that you love in the vhs player as you curl up on the bed, closing your eyes. Eddie waits for the sound of Wayne closing the front door before he goes and gets you a water bottle and makes you a sandwich.

“I’m not hungry.” You mumble and Eddie shakes his head.

“Eat.”

“I don’t want to.”

He gives you a playful pout, dramatizing it until you start smiling.

“Please eat? Please?” He playfully pleads until you concede. The both of you get quiet as you eat and Eddie watches the movie. Once you’re done you set you plate on his nightstand and lay down. He plays with your hair to sooth you, the world going quiet for a minute, “he never deserved you.” Eddie whispers, “not once. You were everything. You were great to him and if he can’t appreciate that then I think that’s his problem.”

“I loved him.” You shrug.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Eddie mutters, glancing at you.

“Me too.” You yawn, turning over to face him and closing your eyes.

“Don’t do that again, okay? Don’t scare me like that, sweetheart.”

“I won’t. I’m sorry. I’m just really sad. And kind of fucking angry.” You sniffle.

“I know. Next time you wanna get drunk we can do it here. Not at a crowded bar, here and we can watch movies and be fun drunk.”

He waits for you to respond but when a response doesn’t come he looks at you and you’re asleep, curled up in a ball, your head nuzzled against his side.

Dude-

This is-

Agh

“The center of my life, the sun in my galaxy.”

i'm as mad as everyone else is that five's entire personality was erased because the showrunner wanted to make aidan gallagher kiss someone, but honestly i'm just as or almost MORE mad that lila's character was completely reduced to being a) a mother (who barely seems to care about her kids at all) and b) a reward for diego and five to fight over. she was such an interesting, fun character, and besides her scene in "book club" she was just. so uninteresting. very little impact to the plot. she had a random unexplained power instead of her own power, that was used for a single gag and then she couldn't figure out how to do for some reason but then as soon as we needed her to she could do it again and also had her other powers. she just did not feel like the same character or a fully realised person with depth, but that's true of pretty much all of them so i don't know why i'm so upset, the writers just clearly did not understand these characters or care at all about them

This confused me so much ngl

I thought he just didn’t exists

I thought she just got Claire back

He was so cute with Allison I don’t understand

sorry but RAY WALKED OUT?!?!

you honestly expect me to believe Raymond Chestnut WALKED OUT on Allison.