#Walky Talky Buddies

[colliesplayhouse]

BIGGEST CROSSOVER IN HISTORY!!!!:

Im gonna call themmm.. Walky Talky Buddies!

💛💙

I wanna draw them interacting sooo, gimme some recommendations 😎

[codthefishgod]

A list of rules when interacting with an aroace person, by an aroace person:

- Do not romantic our platonic. We will not hesitate to smash a rock into your skull.

- Do not piss us off. We're all attached by invisible walkie-talkies. It's like roaches--if there's one, there's definitely another one nearby.

- Do not say things like 'when you're married' or 'when you meet that special person'. Trust me, coming to terms with an aroace identity in a romance-centered world is not a fun, quirky choice.

- Do not assume that we don't like seeing romance/sex in the media. I'm aroace and one of my favourite genres is romance.

- WE ARE LGBTQIA+. Doesn't matter if we're cis, heterosexual but aromantic or heteroromantic but asexual or any other combination of all the various shades of aspec, WE COUNT AS QUEER PEOPLE.

- Do not equate being aroace or on the aspectrum to being celibate. It's not the same thing. Being aroace is not a choice.

- Being aroace does not mean we're all lonely or sad. Eating garlic bread is scientifically shown to boost your serotonin levels (don't fact check me on this)

- Living with someone or wanting to live with someone doesn't mean we want them romantically! If you have the option to establish a hideout for you and all your buddies, why wouldn't you?

This was, again, a list of rules when interacting with an aroace person, shown to reduce chances of dying by burnt breadsticks and pasta by 100%!

[puckywucky]

when does uber start using airplanes for rides

fly uber

uber air

[pucksandpower]

if requests are open, can I pls request baby vettel telling her brothers (the grid kids) she has a "boyfriend" when she comes home from kindergarten one day ??? if requests are closed, please ignore 💗 love your works so much !!

Grid Kids: Cooties

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: the grid kids take being big brothers very seriously

Series Masterlist

“No.”

Max’s voice is firm, his face aghast.

Charles, sitting next to him, nods in agreement. “I thought we agreed that you’re not allowed to date until you’re 40?”

Your daughter looks up from her crayon artwork, her little brows furrowing. “But Tommy said we’re boy ... boyfr …”

Lance interrupts, “Boyfriend and girlfriend? No, no, no. Absolutely not.”

George chimes in, holding up a toy car, “Tell whoever this Tommy is that you’re too busy racing to have a boyfriend.”

Lando adds, “Besides, boyfriends mean cooties. Do you want cooties?”

She tilts her head, pondering the dire consequences of these so-called cooties.

Charles, trying to be the voice of reason, kneels down to her level. “Sweetie, you’re a smart, wonderful little girl. And Tommy is, well ... you can do better.”

Mick, watching the entire exchange, laughs. “Guys, she’s just a kid. They’re probably just sharing crayons.”

Lando looks scandalized, “Crayons today, hearts tomorrow. It’s a slippery slope!”

Sebastian, watching the overprotective madness unfold, turns to you with a smirk, “I think our daughter has a solid set of bodyguards.”

You laugh, wrapping an arm around him. “Good luck to any actual future boyfriends.”

Your daughter simply shrugs, scribbles something on a piece of paper, and hands it to Charles. “For Tommy.”

Charles reads aloud, “We can be friends. But no cooties. Okay?”

***

The next day after school, Max bends down to your daughter’s eye level, “Now, which one is Tommy?”

She points a tiny finger to a little boy playing with a toy car on the playground. He has sandy hair and an innocent expression as he makes car noises.

Lando claps his hands together, “Alright, mates, game faces.”

George rolls his eyes but can’t help his grin, “Really? We’re really doing this?”

Lance nudges him, “We have to ensure he’s good enough for our sister!”

As the grid kids approach Tommy, he looks up, wide-eyed at the small army of grown-ups marching towards him.

Charles squats down, “Hey there, buddy. You Tommy?”

Tommy nods slowly, clutching his toy car.

George, leaning down too, tries to sound stern, “We heard you’re, uh, dating our sister.”

Lando, animatedly acting out air quotes around the word dating, adds, “We just wanted to have a quick chat.”

Mick, clearly finding the whole situation hilarious, jumps in, “You know, about intentions and all.”

Tommy blinks, “Inten-what?”

Max clears his throat, “Look, Tommy, we just want to make sure you’re treating our sister right. No stealing her toys or snacks.”

Lando jumps in again, “And absolutely no cooties. We had a long talk about that.”

Tommy nods fervently, “I don’t have cooties!”

Charles chuckles, “Good to know. So, you’ll play nice with her?”

Tommy nods again, “I promise. I just wanted to show her my new car.” He holds up the toy proudly.

George pats him on the head awkwardly, “Alright, Tommy. Just remember, we’re watching you.”

***

“Operation Sneaky Sneak is a go. Over,” Lando whispers dramatically into his walkie-talkie from his hiding spot behind a bush.

“Copy that,” George responds, trying to peer into Tommy’s living room window from a tree branch, “They’re ... playing with dolls? Oh, and there are some cookies. Over.”

Lance, hidden behind a garden gnome, chimes in, “I hope they're chocolate chip. Over.”

Charles, from his spot on top of a garden shed, adds, “No visual on any suspicious activities. Just some Barbies about to get the worst haircut of their life. Over.”

Mick, wedged between two trash cans, mutters, “Feels like we’re in a bad spy movie.”

Max, crouching behind a car, counters, “Feels? We ARE in a bad spy movie.”

Suddenly, the back door to Tommy’s house swings open and out step his parents, chatting and laughing. The grid kids freeze.

George, panicking, whispers into the walkie-talkie, “Abort mission! I repeat, abort!”

Lance tries to slink away, “Going dark! Going dark! We have been compromised.”

But it’s too late. Tommy’s mother spots them. “Um, gentlemen? What are you doing?”

Charles attempts to play it cool, “Oh, you know, just ... birdwatching. Beautiful sparrows around here.”

Tommy’s father suppresses a grin, “In our backyard? With walkie-talkies?”

Lando, thinking on his feet, responds, “Modern birdwatching. Very high tech. Over.”

Mick gives him a look, “Did you seriously just say over out loud?”

Max tries to salvage the situation, “We just wanted to ensure the playdate went ... smoothly.”

Tommy’s parents burst into laughter. “You guys really care about her, huh?”

Before anyone can respond, there’s a rustling from above. Thunk! “Ow!” Thwack! “Not the face!” Crash! “My hair!”

Everyone’s attention is immediately drawn to George who has dramatically fallen out of the tree, hitting almost every branch on the way down.

Rubbing his back, George groans from where he’s splayed on the ground, “Guess I should leave the climbing to the kids.”

Tommy’s mother takes pity on the fully grown children masquerading as adults in front of her, “Would any of you like to come in for juice boxes?”

The grid kids exchange sheepish glances. “Yes, please,” they reply in unison.

[b1rds3ye]

Radio Silence

The mission required you to separate from the rest of Task Force 141 but when the operation is compromised, all he can do is listen to the panic through the comms until everything goes silent.

Pairings: Captain John Price x GN!Reader, Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader Reader Aliases: Breeze (Callsign), Bravo 1-5 (Squad-Member Code) Genre: Angst (open-ended), Drama Warning: Descriptions of violence/crashes, blasphemy/religious references, (probably) inaccurate military terms Word Count: 3k (~1.5k each)

Captain John Price

The captain was not a superstitious man, but when you’re on the battlefield, you take all the good fortune you can get. With age he’s picked up a range of small habits and lucky paraphernalia to get him through the mission; an aged penny in his left breast pocket, a four leaf clover stored in another, he finds himself reciting the lord’s prayer even though he’s not particularly religious (and if there is a god he’d like to personally go up and sock them across the face).

When you noticed his little rituals, you added on a good luck charm of your own - his favourite by far. A quick peck on the cheek followed by a teasing little “good luck, captain” in his ear. Price swears there’s something divine in your affection, it does wonders for his morale and efficiency. He thought nothing of it the first few times, but when he realised that this little gift of yours was here to stay, he started to reciprocate in kind when the others weren’t looking. His soul has become tainted over the years - if anything a kiss from him should be a bad omen - but your beaming smile in response convinces him that maybe he’s given you some luck your way.

And perhaps that’s why, after your ritual good luck kiss, he feels a little more than bothered when Laswell calls you away before he can reciprocate. You notice the slight furrow of his eyebrows and laugh, telling him not to worry and that you’ll see him on the other side. The hold you had on his arm disappears as you pull away, bidding him and the rest of the Task Force good luck as you join your own squadron. Price then returns to commandeering his own men, but the thought lingers in the back of his mind. Perhaps you need that extra little bit of luck today.

Price hates how good his intuition can be.

“Bravo 0-6, do you copy?”

With his squadron grounded and on the perimeter of the site, he stiffens at the tone of your voice. That’s not how you usually sound like over comms, that hint of uncertainty didn’t suit you.

“Loud and clear, in position of Site A.”

“Copy, we’re at the compound but… we’ve got company.”

“Al-Qatala?”

“No, looks like Al-Qatala is buddy-buddy with some mercs and- shit.”

“Breeze, what are you seeing?”

“How’d they get us surrounded…?” You mutter more to yourself than to Price but his blood runs cold regardless.

“Bravo 1-5 you are to fall back and wait for backup-”

He’s cut off by various layers of static but he’s learnt to decipher them. The deeper base of the rustle of fabric as you manoeuvre, the sharp trill of gunshots all overlaying the white noise of distant shouting.

“Price, our exits are blocked, they knew we’d be here, how’d they- Corporal! Fuck, stay with me! We’re dropping like flies here. Bravo-1, we’ve got no choice, we have to push through, full offensive!”

He hears the screams of nearby soldiers. While he’s grateful none of them are yours, he knows that the ride back to base will be a rough one regardless. He feels the eyes of his subordinates burn holes into him and the walkie talkie. Gaz, who was beside him, was the only one moving, animatedly talking to Laswell and filling her in on the situation.

“Bravo 1-5-”

There’s an audible sigh on your end that shuts him up.

Through the time it has taken for Price to become captain, he’s learned a lot the hard way. One of the most important things he’s learned is that earning Lady Luck’s favour is more crucial than any skill for the battlefield. Some of the best he’s ever seen has fallen because they pissed her off somehow, but he still never expected her to shun you.

“Just my luck…” your voice starts off quiet as you curse to yourself. A gulp breaks up your panting as you stabilise your breathing. Your next words are far too calm.

“I’m sorry, Price.”

“Sergeant.” Price’s voice was low, cautious. A warning. He knows how you fight, he knows you don’t do anything extreme unless the situation he calls for it, and once again he’s praying to the unknown that it hasn’t come to that.

“I said next time we hit the pub with the 141 that the first round will be on me but I don’t think I can make that.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Breeze.”

“The merc company goes by Order of Ashes.”

Your words are becoming harder to hear as the explosions seem to be getting closer and closer. Gaz is becoming louder, literally screaming into his comms as he near begs for an evac for your squadron. The rest of his team is becoming restless. Price’s grip tightens impossibly tight on the walkie talkie, any tighter and he could probably crush the metal.

“Rain hell on them for me, yeah?”

Price starts calling for your name, only to be interrupted by a deafening static that has him reeling from his own technology. Inexperienced privates that surrounded him flinched at the sound while Gaz fell silent. Soon Price’s walkie talkie falls silent too.

He brings his hand up to activate communications again, a tentative check in.

“Bravo 1-5, do you copy?”

He waits for a moment.

“Fuck. Breeze? Do you copy?”

The next time he calls out to you is the first time he’s hesitant, to the untrained ear he sounded as strong as ever but to him he recognises how his own voice wavers. A gentle call of your actual name, the last resort.

Silence.

Price gives you a few more seconds to answer, each moment more damning than the last. Gaz sends a concerned look his way but words fail him. He’s a good sergeant but his inexperience is showing. He hasn’t fully mastered the poker face, not like Price has. 

Eventually he lets out a heavy exhale through his nose, counting each racing heartbeat it takes until it has marginally slowed.

Gaz instinctively straightened up, he didn’t need to see Price’s face to know his captain was transforming before his very eyes. Price adjusts his hat, looking at the rest of his team under the brim.

“Alright, we’ve got double the work and half the manpower. No time to lose, I want this site cleared within the hour, and then we're finding our other half."

With affirmatives all round, the soldiers get to work and so does Price. To the untrained eye, he’s calm, eerily so. As captain, Price can’t afford to lose his cool, it’ll bleed over and smother his team, blanket them in a tense atmosphere of panic and uncertainty. So he stays resolute, acting as the team’s anchor as he guides them towards the objective with precision.

The only emotion that breaks his facade is anger. Pure, unbridled rage that casts a frightening glaze over his eyes. His allies can see it as Price stomps towards the entrance of the site. Al-Qatala most certainly feel it as their lackeys are pummeled to the ground, bones cracking against stone and tiles. They’re not gifted the mercy of a quick bullet, but the pain of slowly bleeding out with broken bones, bruised bodies and limbs jutting out in all the ways they should not. Every bruising punch, every bullet delivered does little to quell the raging storm within him. It brings him closer to the mission objective but it doesn’t bring him closer to you, and that’s the only thing that matters right now. There’s no hostages, no chance of salvation for his enemies. Any form of good will in Price was taken away when you were taken away from him. He hopes whatever god that sees the carnage he’s inflicted knows that it is only a taste of what to come if he ever meets that poor sod.

When his side of the operation is done and the squadron is now leaving the site, Price returns to his comms. He needs to address the other half of the mission, you. Suddenly his tongue feels thick in his mouth as his throat tightens. His collar is suffocating.

“Bravo 0-6 to Watcher-1 do you copy?”

Laswell’s voice rings out.

“Affirmative. We’ve already dispatched birds to Bravo-1’s location, we’ll do what we can and sort out that compound.”

“Do me one more thing. Find me everything you can on the ‘Order of Ashes’. I want names, locations, families, the whole fucking mile.”

“Can do. … Is this for Breeze?”

“Breeze wanted me to rain hell on them…”

Price’s voice is low as he puts a cigar in his mouth. He lights it up, even when the cigar smokes he keeps the lighter on. His eyes narrow at the flickering flame, fixated on it for a moment longer. He’s never been a particularly superstitious man, but he’s asking for Lady Luck to be on his side once again. For the slim chance that you’re somewhere out there, breathing. He’s never been worthy of her favour, but you damn well are so surely she’ll put that into account. She’ll consider that you still have a lot to do, you still have a good luck kiss that Price needs to return. He puts his lighter away.

“... and I intend to deliver.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost preferred his quieter missions. Others feel safer when in a team but more people mean more variables, and more variables mean more fuck ups, and heavens know he’s had enough of those. For Ghost, the less, the better. And yet, when it came to 141, and in particular to you, he’d pick company over going solo in a heartbeat.

Reconnaissance missions were a personal favourite, they were quiet, less violent if done right and often required only a few people. Of course his first person of choice is you, even if you’d always call these missions an “impromptu date” and then chastise him for not planning something more extravagant just to rile him up.

Even now, when you two were starting on opposite sides of the target site a good few kilometres apart, you were connected through communications. He’d listen as you ramble about anything and everything on your mind when the mission gets quiet. It was endearing, it was soothing. Ghost never thought he’d find someone like you with the power to give him a respite even when on duty - or if he ever deserved such a thing. And yet here he was, sitting against a wall, waiting for further instructions from Laswell as you started the purely hypothetical debate on who in the 141 would best survive the zombie apocalypse.

“Honestly, with a mask like yours you could probably blend in with the horde. 10 out of 10 you’d last your entire life like that.”

“Surrounded by brain dead morons? Already have that.”

He heard your laugh that you tried to mask as an exaggerated scoff.

“How long do you think I’d last?”

“One hour at most.”

“Oh come on Ghost, have a bit more faith in me.”

“All Bravo to Watcher-1, we’re awaiting further action, copy.”

As Laswell replies, Simon can already imagine your offended expression as he changes the topic.

“Bravo-1 this is Watcher-1, you are all clear to close in on the perimeter. Do not engage, just tell us what you see.”

“Watcher-1 this is Bravo 1-5, I’m already seeing hostiles.”

Ghost stills, his hand reaching back up to the comms. You’ve always managed to keep it cool but he heard how your sentence ended with a slight waver. It was too early for speculation, but the alarm bells were already going off in his head. The enemy should be clustered within the site, nowhere near where you currently are.

“I’m counting a dozen men, a couple of trucks and- that’s looking like some impressive cargo.”

There’s some extra static as Ghost finds his pace increasing. He won’t be able to reach you soon, but it doesn’t stop his legs from moving towards the site.

“They’re moving quickly, they’ve got an agenda.”

“Stay frosty, Breeze.”

“Got it, Simon.”

Your voice is more of a whisper now, almost blending in with the static. Was the enemy that close to you already?  Usually, he loved when you used his actual name. Everyone calls him ‘Ghost’ even off-duty, but you were proper enough to at least always call him by his callsign in battle. You were getting spooked and he was too far away to even try and comfort you.

It was a strain to unclench his balled fists. He wasn’t going to have a mission go wrong, at least not one that involved you. He’d be damned if something took you out before him, because he refused to return to a life where you weren’t yapping his ear off.

“Breeze, head back to exfil.”

“Fuck, they’re heading this way.”

If you found a good place to hide, Ghost could reach you before any enemy did. He had to.

“I’m heading towards your position. E.T.A 20 minutes.”

“Ghost, my spot is now crawling with hostiles. I know you’re a one man army but I think you’re pushing it this time.”

Your laugh was different this time. It wasn’t as hearty as the one he heard before, it was a weak wheeze. Half-hearted, the sound of a bitter and quiet defeat. He could hear your rugged breathing against the end of the mic. If he was actually with you, he’d stand beside you in moments like this, letting you put your body weight on him discreetly as he anchored you to the world. His gloved hand instinctively curls as he imagines himself holding onto your arm.

“Breeze, stay with me. Focus on the objective.”

“You owe me a proper date after this, Ghost.”

“Then make sure you get back in one piece-”

The comms are disrupted with a voice that Ghost can’t recognise, with you returning an indistinguishable shout and a curse. He can’t help calling your name into the comms, only to hear the static of indescribable commotion, bodies shuffling and the harrowing crack of broken bones and limbs. It escalates into a deafening crescendo spanning only a few seconds before the grand finale of a thump of a fallen body. The transmission ends with a damning click. He stops in his tracks before he returns to the comms.

“Breeze? How copy?”

The line has gone dead. Ghost slams his fist into the nearest wall, but it does little to quell the pain from within.

“Bravo this is Watcher-1, what’s your status?”

Ghost pauses at Laswell’s request, he wants you to be the one who replies on his behalf, you usually do. Never did a moment feel so heavy, outweighing his military gear and weapons, almost bringing the hulking man to his knees. His hand reluctantly comes up to activate his walkie talkie. He takes his sweet time, giving you the chance to interrupt. When he finally speaks, his voice is slow as he draws out every syllable, every pause a desperate invitation for you to speak up.

“Bravo 1-5 is M.I.A.”

Laswell is silent on the other side. Ghost lets his head tilt back until it rests on the wall beside him, the guilt made his skull too heavy. With that sentence alone he felt like your executioner, as if he just brought the possibility of you being gone into reality. The only thing he can hear now is the slight rustle of grass against the wind, a backdrop to the rhythmic bass of his pounding heartbeat. This was a typical ambience for solo missions, and Ghost was used to being alone.

But lonely? He had forgotten how it felt ever since you barged into his life. And now that the feeling has returned, he forgot just how utter shit it feels.

“We’re sending immediate backup to their position. We’ll meet you there.”

But by the time he and the squadron make it to your position, there are only the remnants of a battle left in your wake. A few unrecognised bodies are slumped against the walls, furniture is overturned, and dried blood paints the floor as a macabre dye. Most - if not all - of this must have been your handiwork, and if it was any other circumstance Ghost would feel proud, but you’re not beside him for him to praise you. That being said, there is no sign of you, and that leaves him optimistic, but the other soldiers seemed to think differently.

“You know, they say Al-Qatala never takes prisoners,” one jittery private said to another.

“What’re you trying to say? I've seen the Sergeant. Breeze is tough.”

“I’m just saying, even if we can’t find their body they’re probably d-”

“That’s enough,” Ghost snaps his head to them, eyes alight with a rage usually reserved only for his worst enemies. His voice is near unrecognisable, more akin to a growl than any human sound. He will not tolerate anyone speaking ill of you or doubting your capabilities as a soldier. He tells himself he does it for your honour, nothing more, nothing less. He disregards the selfish need for you to return to him as it wittles him down to the bone and contorts his face to a scowl concealed under his mask.

The soldiers hurriedly salute before exiting the room, leaving the lieutenant alone, shoulders and chest heaving before he moves to continue the search.

The team returns empty handed, but that means nothing to Ghost. Even as he’s issued new missions he does not falter. He fights with the same brutality, killing his enemy before they can kill him because he needs to return home. Return home so he can organise a covert mission of his own - retrieving you. No matter the rank or squadron that separates you, no matter if you’re shipped out to the other side of this godforsaken earth, you two are a team. Combat has hardened Ghost into a brutally honest man, many would call him a pessimist, but a stubborn voice in the back of his mind refuses to believe that you’re gone. You’ve always been a tough nut to crack, if you weren’t you wouldn’t be dating him. He’s seen you stare death in the eyes only for you to stand back up beside him. And so he faces forward and doesn’t look back. Because until he has to rip off the freezing metal of a dog tag from your neck, he swears on his stone cold heart that you’re still out there. Maybe a little tattered, perhaps even broken, but living.

Call of Duty Masterlist

[bitchassmcgrass]

Guy from the 80's getting a handjob: "Woah, she's like, firmly grasping my gonads, dude! :D"

His buddy Bartholomew getting head on the other end of the walkie talkie: "That's like, most excellent, brah! :D"

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Do you think Cybertronians would make funky little collars to put on their humans to show the human is theirs

Like imagine the mech stylizing the collar so their human fits their color scheme or they decorate it with little lights or bells or even add specific gadgets like a walkie-talkie so they can talk to their little one even when they’re separated, or maybe some sort of system that will defend the human if they’re in danger.

Whether the human likes this or not doesn’t matter, they’re wearing that collar no matter what.

Rodimus, putting the ugliest fucking red-and-orange collar on his human: “Look Little Buddy, now we match!”

The human: “I want to kill myself.”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi! I have been reading you for a long time and would like to ask you something for the first time… The last message flow to the Lethal Company from the Nutcracker was WILDLY SWEET, however, it hurt me from the bracken that was shot through the lytic…. May I ask the bracken and the reader where the bracken constantly goes behind the reader's back…. JUST TO HUG! Someone from the team warns about the danger and the bracken gently takes the reader in his arms to his lair for even bigger hugs!

Bruh you have no idea how soft i am for brackens hfghhs (when I first started playing LC, they were ALWAYS killing me...but now they just like to pop out and scurry away when I look at them, so I consider us to be pretty chill)

Anyways woe Bracken fluff be upon ye <3

.....

Of all the creatures you've encountered during your time with the Company, Brackens were certainly the most complicated.

Even though there's been countless documents and reports of employees scanning, studying, and dying to these aliens...they were still seldom understood. The data on the terminal said so.

There was one in particular who had such a unique behavior pattern that remained a mystery to you.

And he lived on Experimentation, which was supposedly the "safest" moon to land on and gather scrap from.

Most of the time, however, that was a load of bullshit...as you and your crew had many encounters with aggressive lifeforms such as hoarding bugs, Thumpers, spiders, and turrets that were placed in the most inconvenient spots...

Hell, even an Earth Leviathan showed up and nearly consumed your entire ship.

As of right now, though, you were on-track to making the third profit quota's deadline. So a trip to Experimentation was an order, as you could grab minimal loot and still gain enough leftover money to buy some much-needed ship upgrades and tools.

Or maybe new suits or jack o'lanterns.

None of you were good at managing your budget.

But during this trip, you were less focused on getting loot and more eager to see....a certain someone.

Hopefully, he hasn't forgotten about you or mistook you for another random employee.

While two of your coworkers headed into the facility's main entrance and one stayed behind on the ship, you ascended the stairs leading up to the fire exit--armed with nothing but a flashlight and a walkie-talkie.

[Nearby activity detected!]

"Oh come on...can you be anymore vague?" You huffed, slightly annoyed that your scanner displayed the message before you could even touch the damn door.

"Activity" was awfully broad and could mean literally anything was waiting for you on the other side..

It could be a bunker spider or snare flea waiting to drop down on you and catch you by surprise.

It could be a Hygrodere spreading itself all over the floor, anticipating you setting one foot into it before drowning in its slimy body.

It could even be a simple turret ready to turn you into swiss cheese.

However, there's the possibility that it could also be the one entity here who didn't wanna give you a painful death, and you hoped to god you were right.

So you took a leap of faith and entered.

Surprisingly no danger was immediately present, although you did find a lot of good loot inside the room and smiled. "Oh sweet!" You grabbed the rubber ducky and Rubik's cube in the nearest corner, pocketing them. "This should set us way above-"

"Something's behind you!"

"Huh-?!"

All of the sudden, a pair of large arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you back and causing your oxygen tanks to be pressed against the creature's chest-

Wait.

You only knew one Bracken that did that, and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my gosh, you scared me! You know you can't keep doing that!"

"Krrrrrr.." The entity purred softly, nuzzling his face against your neck as its leaves rustled with happiness.

With a chuckle, you patted his arm affectionately. "I've missed you, too, buddy. I told you I'd be back."

Knowing it was this Bracken, you felt safer than ever. He had a habit of greeting you this way: by sneaking up behind you like the rest of his species typically did, and attacking you.....not by snapping your neck like a twig, but by embracing and nuzzling you.

Of course, nobody in your crew believed that you've got a dangerous alien predator on Experimentation who always waited for you. Who loved you like a dog and would kill a Thumper for you.

If only they could meet him...but then again, he was shy.

"Don't tell me it's that damn Bracken again...did you tame it or something?"

The staticky voice of your coworker over the walkie-talkie startled the poor Bracken out of the hug, as it dropped you and flared its leaves out, wondering where they were.

"Relax, we're cool." You huffed, annoyed that they spooked your friend. "I gotta conserve my battery so...signal me when it gets close to midnight."

"....fine. Just don't die. Over and out."

After switching off the device, you turned back to him and smiled apologetically. "Don't worry. They're far away, so they won't bother us." You removed your helmet for the moment.

He nodded in understanding, crouching down to get a better look at your human features.

For some reason he never minded prolonged eye contact with you--and that was a good thing....otherwise, you would've been dead a long time ago.

You smiled and patted the top of his head, before he suddenly sprung up and scooped you up into his arms, lifting you completely off the ground. "Woah! Hey! Where are we going?" You asked as he carried you out of the room, taking you somewhere further within the facility.

Considering the Bracken knew his way around, you weren't too concerned with getting lost.

On your way to this unknown destination, you spotted a hoarding bug skittering down the hallway, eyeing the brass bell attached to your belt.....only to freeze as the leafy entity glared at it.

Luckily it understood the appropriate time to make eye contact with a Bracken, as it eventually looked away from him and decided to leave for another part of the facility.

It seems most of the creatures were knew who was the alpha.

'Man, whoever's tracking me must be so confused right now..' You thought to yourself as he continued walking.

Eventually you both arrived at a place many employees dubbed the "Bracken Room": a large open illuminated space with yellowish walls that looked out of place in the facility.

After setting you down on the floor, you looked at the Bracken with confusion, wondering why he decided to bring you here....until he brought you into another hug, wanting to sit down and have you in his lap.

You just smiled and wrapped your arms around him, giggling as he tucked his head underneath your chin, wanting to listen to the sound of a human's heartbeat.

Now you understood.

All he wanted was to take you to a quiet, safe place away from all the other monsters and employees. A place where he could have you to himself...at least for a couple more hours, anyways.

You knew the ship wasn't leaving anytime soon, so you didn't mind keeping him company.

While other Brackens are among the top three reasons employees hated their job...this one made you love it.

You feel so lucky, you'll consider buying a lottery ticket if you ever returned to Earth.

[strangemaleswaps]

Strange Job Swap

“Oh it's beautiful!” exclaimed the customer waiting in line. I handed her a nicely decorated cake for her son's birthday.

“It's no big deal. Just doing my job.” I acted like it was no big deal, but really I was gladly accepting the praise!

“This is perfect though. Have you considered being an artist?” she replied with a slightly more serious look.

“Yes I have actually…but the job market is tough.”

“Aww you'll get there eventually! Don't give up! Well anyway, you made my day so for that, thank you!”

“You're welcome.” I was a bit sad though, because she was right; I SHOULD be an artist. I recently earned my bachelor's degree, but yet I was still stuck in this dumb hick town, working as a grocery store cake decorator. I may have been good at what I do but I wouldn't want to do it forever!

At least my co-workers are pretty decent, especially my fellow bakery buddies, Chase, Amber, and Domingo. Amber was cool and didn't take anyone’s shit, which is why I loved seeing her because I didn't have much confidence when dealing with unruly customers. Domingo was very sweet, and even though he didn't speak very good English, he's hella good at his job. And Chase, well…he's hot! His bleach blond hair somehow always caught the light at a perfect angle. I don't know how I even kept my focus when he's working next to me.

At the end of my shift, I clocked out, and decided to buy a couple groceries like I normally did. I scanned everything at the self-checkout, put the receipt into one of my bags, and started walking towards the exit. The store had 2 exits on either side of the front, but I only took one because the other had a certain asshole at it - Richard.

The greeter position was removed a long time ago, but they bring it back for employees that have been injured or are too old, so that they can keep their jobs. Now this old guy named Richard had surgery a long time ago and became the greeter while he recovered. But yet he never went back to his old position.

He always stays at one specific entrance, and the reason I hated him so much was because he's racist. Part of his job has him checking customers’ receipts to make sure they didn't steal anything, which seems pretty unnecessary when you have those anti-theft machines at the exit. But I've seen him. The only people he checks the receipts for are minorities. It's not a subtle thing either; he’s super friendly, greeting and saying goodbye to all the white people passing but when it comes to someone who's not, his demeanor suddenly changes. 

My luck must've run out today, because I found the sliding glass doors at my usual exit were broken and currently being fixed. The area was blocked off by a barricade, and I knew there was only one other way to leave. I headed over to the other exit, and there Richard was, waving goodbye to a white mother and her toddler. He was wearing his typical gray uniform shirt that was clearly too small, because you could see his gut and nipples trying to poke through. Gross.

I moved through the aisle, trying not to draw attention to myself, but it was all for nothing because right on cue, Richard walked up to me and gave a great big (and so obviously fake) smile.

“Hello sir, can I see your receipt please?”

“Richard, it's me, Marco. I work in the bakery. You've seen me a million times before.” His smile suddenly faded, and his eyes narrowed, as if every ounce of happiness in his body just vanished.

“That's no excuse. How do I know you aren't stealing?”

“Because I want to keep my job?”

“Don't backtalk to me. You seem awfully suspicious today.” He then reached for his walkie talkie and started to page a manager. I really was able to walk out with no repercussions because I truly didn't steal anything, but there's a chance he would page the Asset Protection lady, who was almost as awful.

“Hello? Is anyone there?” Nobody answered him. Thank god.

“Am I free to go now?” I said happily. The anger returned to his face.

“Just don't let me catch you stealing again. Or there'll be consequences!”

“Yeah…suuuure.” I walked out the door, into my car, and back home. I can't believe some people honestly. I was so sick of this town! I needed to move away real soon.

When I got home my dog, Kenny, was excited to greet me as usual so I let him outside to do his business while I got into my running clothes, prepping for a run. As I let Kenny back in, I went to check the mail and found a weird envelope in between the bills and spam. I opened it up and it was a letter addressed “to whom it may concern”. I threw it away without a second thought but Kenny suddenly ran up to the trash can, took it out, and placed it back in front of me.

“You really want me to read this, don't you boy?” I said cheerily as I patted him on the head.

“To whom it may concern,

Are you struggling with your current job? Unhappy with the life you have? Well I have just the cure for that! We are now selling happiness inducing coins for only $1 with free shipping! One flip of this coin will guarantee you will soon get a job you love! Get it fast before it all runs out! Just follow the link on the back of this letter if you are interested.” - VV

I wondered who or what VV was supposed to be, and $1 with free shipping sounds too good to be true, so this seemed like a scam. I also wasn't a superstitious person,  but for some reason my gut was telling me that this was a good idea. Kenny seemed to think so too as he was wagging his tail under the table and I read. I followed the link listed on the back of the page, typing in each random letter and number combination into my phone and ordered the lucky coin. I went to bed that night feeling a little more hopeful.

The next day at work was just like the previous day, only the door was fixed so I didn't have to walk out the exit Richard was standing at. We did make eye contact though, and he shot me a dirty look. I got home to find that the package had already arrived, which was awfully quick. I cut open the box and inside was a golden coin with a picture of a brain on it. The other side had a picture of a person with their arms spread wide. It was a really weird design. I read the instructions.

How to use:

Flip the coin

No matter what side it lands on, you'll be guaranteed happiness in your new job!

It sounded so lame, but I followed the instructions anyway. I flipped the coin the air, and slapped it on the back of my other hand. Tails. Nothing happened. I guess it was just $1 so it wasn't a huge waste of my time. It's pretty cool looking so maybe I could display it on my dresser or something.

I felt especially tired the rest of the night, but I was fine because I had a day off tomorrow. I was gonna go to the park with Kenny, as well as do a few errands. I was just glad I had time away from my job.

The next morning my alarm went off for some reason. I must've accidently set it by mistake. The weirder thing was Kenny wasn't there. Normally at the sound of my alarm, he comes running from wherever he was sleeping, and jumps on the bed to get me up. But there was nothing. When I started to truly wake up and become more alert, I realized that my alarm was set to the default or something. Instead of my usual calming piano, it was an annoying ringing. I opened my eyes to see what was happening. My vision was blurry, but I could tell I wasn't in my own room.

What happened? Did someone kidnap me? The alarm clock wasn't even on a phone, but rather it was an actual alarm clock. I had no idea what was going on, but I reached over to turn it off so I could think. I'm certain I must've been kidnapped somehow but why? And why would they set an alarm clock? I couldn't see but felt around the nightstand for a clue and found a pair of glasses. When I tried them on, just like that, my vision returned to normal. I had perfect vision before! Why did I suddenly need glasses? I reached up to scratch my head and found my hairline was incredibly receded. I was balding! I looked down with my now clear vision to find an even worse fact. I was chubby!

I sat up and stared at the foreign gut and two large man tits, as well as numerous graying chest hairs. I ran my hands through the hair, pinching them to make sure they were real. I pinched the tits as well, and felt sensations I've never felt before as they wobbled when I let go. I ran my hands through my face and felt a mustache and double chin, and began feeling nauseous at the thought of what I actually looked like. I didn't see a mirror in the room so I walked out the door trying to find a bathroom. The fat jiggled all around as I ran.

I got to the bathroom and nearly puked on the spot when I saw who I was. Richard. Oh god no. Of all people, I had to look like this racist bastard? I stared at myself and grazed my hands along my face. Suddenly I felt angry and started pinching it instead, as if I was doing the same thing to the real Richard, but denial didn't help; that was my face and it hurt. I touched his mustache and pinched it, as if it would come off. 

Just then I heard the doorbell ring. I didn't want to interact with anybody looking like this but until I figured out how to fix it, I knew I had to pretend to be Richard. I answered the door to find the mailman.

“Howdy Rich! Woah uh.” He stared at my chest. I forgot I was still shirtless. Having this much fat hanging from my body was almost like answering the door naked. “I see you've lost some weight!” he said, obviously lying.

“Oh uh, thanks.” I replied, trying to imitate Richard’s voice, which was pretty easy considering I've mocked him before.

“Well anyway, not much today; just a letter.” He handed me a letter with a purple stamp on it.

“Well uh see you tomorrow!” The mailman went on his way and I closed the door. I opened the letter and found a note similar to the lucky coin advertisement.

To whom it may concern,

Good morning! I trust that your lucky coin worked well? Welcome to your new life! As promised, you now have a job that you love. Unhappy with the results? Just flip the coin once again, and make sure it lands on what it landed on before! If not, however, your fate is sealed. Best Wishes! - VV, Venefica Viola

Shit. They're not lying though. Richard did love his job. And since I was in his body, I now had that job! But who is this Venefica Viola? It sounded like Latin somehow. I walked back to the bedroom to find Richard’s phone. Luckily he didn't have any lock screen pin so I could easily get in. I searched for a translator, dodging the random pop up ads that were everywhere on his phone and looked up Venefica Viola.

Violet Witch. So magic is involved somehow. I needed to get my coin back so I could undo this! It must still be at my own house. Shit! I just realized why the alarm clock went off. Richard worked today! He had perfect attendance and never uses his PTO, so not going in was gonna look suspicious. I glanced at the clock and realized I only had 20 minutes. 

Even though I'd love to see Richard be humiliated by going to work in his underwear, I decided that it wasn't worth attracting attention so I looked through his clothes to put on a work uniform. I found a pair of boxers and accidently flashed myself when I completely forgot I didn't have my own dick either. It was all wrinkly, but honestly a lot bigger than I thought. No. I was not about to get horny over Richard's dick! I found what he normally wore to work and put the rest on. I found tucking the shirt was more difficult than usual, as I had to pull it over my belly.

I guess I could make this work…for now. I hated to admit it, but Richard wasn't all that bad looking. It was his personality and habits that made him so repulsive, but now that I was in control of him, he didn't look all that bad. Maybe I could even turn things around for now and do something nice for the people I know he hates. I grabbed the car keys on the nearby table, and drove to work.

I walked in the store, put Richard's nametag on, and clocked in. I nearly started walking to the bakery area but stopped myself. I guess I'm really going to have to be a greeter for a day. This feels humiliating. I made my way to the front entrance and just stood there, waiting for customers to enter or exit.

Soon enough customers began arriving and I tried my best to act like Richard, though one customer asked if I was all right because I guess I overdid it. I didn't ask any customers to show their receipts though, because I might as well take advantage of being a greeter. I noticed Domingo at the checkout and when he bagged up his groceries, he approached me first instead of the door. He hastily grabbed his receipt and started showing it to me. I wasn't about to let this happen.

“No no it's ok. You don't have to show me the receipt anymore.”

“No?” He looked shocked.

“Checking receipts is stupid anyway. I don't need to do it anymore.”

“Really? I can go?”

“Yep! Have a good day.” It was unnerving seeing him so scared at the sight of me, but he smiled like normally did as he put the receipt back in the bag and walked out.

As I moved towards the break room to take my break, I noticed someone who looked awfully familiar walk through the door. It was…me! I mean Richard. It must've been; if I was in his body, he must've been in mine. It became more obvious by the way he was walking, taking big steps as if he was used to having his gut swinging around…like mine was now. God I hated this. I had to talk to him to sort things out. He smirked as I approached.

“Hey!”

“Oh it's you. I mean me. I mean,” he paused for a second and rounded his mouth into an even bigger smile, which looked uncanny with my face. “The old me.”

“What do you mean ‘the old you’”?

“Well seeing as I'm much younger now, while you're much older, I think the term is appropriate.”

“Well yeah, but not for long. I'm going to switch us back.”

“Oh no you're not! I may have preferred being white, but I’m enjoying youth again! Oh, and don't worry. I saw that coin thing and that letter this morning, and I made sure it would never see the light of day again. You got that…Richard?” 

He called me that in the same mocking tone that I always use to call him. I can't believe this!

“Y-you can't do this! I had a future!”

“That's my future now old man. You know maybe I could be a model with these looks. Maybe make one of those, what do you kids call it? OnlyFans?”

God no, I'm an artist, not a pornstar. He can't do this!

“The greeter is a real fun job, Richard. Enjoy it. You're hired!”

[bookshelf-dust]

how people can change

steve harrington x gn!byers!reader

word count: 4,427

warnings: swearing, like one use of y/n, mentions of season one steve's bullshit, mentions of death, enemies to friends to more type beat

a/n: my very first *full* steve fic. look at us. who woulda thought? not me. i've been working on this since february. don't look at me, i know. i know. but i think i've gotten some sort of hold on how i'd like to write steve. some of the dialogue (season 2) isn’t mine. (also the title is a lyric from strange by celeste!) let me know what you think, okay? i love you. steve loves you. don't tell me if it's bad.

————

November 1984

The door slams behind you with a deafening thud, and you take the extra five seconds to lock it. You know, that action no one else in your family seems to be capable of performing. 

The house is quiet, and you step over the map of Hawkins sprawling over the hardwoods, careful not to damage Will’s work.

Your keys clang against the table, knocking into your mother’s ashtray. It’s dead quiet again, and you freeze at a subtle interruption in the silence. There’s a muffled sound coming from somewhere else in your home, and frankly you’ve had enough of everything the last couple of days. Which is why Joyce sent you home to get some sleep, to clear your head. 

There’s no denying that you have a soft spot for Will. He’s always been your buddy. And you love Jonathan, you do, and he’s got this sick ability to know what you’re thinking or feeling before you do, but he doesn’t need your protection like Will does. 

Will is your best friend. And he’s got one hell of a support system with you, Jonathan and your mom behind him. He deserves the world. You’ve always thought that. 

You quickly infer that it’s a walkie making the sound, based on the staticky crackle, the slightly muffled voice of whoever’s trying to get through from the other side.

Yours is off—you know it is—so it has to be Will’s. Jonathan was too good for a walkie-talkie.

You step down the hallway, pushing your younger brother’s bedroom door the rest of the way open. You scan the small area for it, listening.

“Code red! This is a code red! I repeat, this is a good red! Shit, is anyone there?”

You snatch up the device, extending the antenna.

“Dustin? Is that you?”

“Jesus christ! Where have you been?” Dustin exclaims, and you swear you can hear someone else interfering with his words.

“Sorry! I wasn’t home. What’s wrong?” You sit on the edge of Will’s bed. It’s so much comfier than yours. 

“It’s Dart! He’s, he’s just…you know what? It’s a long story. Where are you right now?”

This time you definitely hear another voice, and maybe even music.

“Dart? You kept him, right? I fucking knew it, Henderson! You’re so not a good liar.”

“That’s for sure.” You can’t place the voice, not over the walkie and over Dustin’s rambling, but you do catch that and it’s enough to leave you curious. 

The boy starts to argue back, but you cut him off. “Dustin, who are you with?”

“Uh,” he coughs, “Well you see, um…Steve Harrington. I’m with Steve Harrington.”

Dustin gets a severe eye roll from said partner-in-crime, but he brushes it off. 

“What?” You’re so confused. How did that even happen?

“I know! But everyone’s been MIA!”

“Oh my god,” you say, and Dustin can practically see you face-palming.

“Look,” he shoves a handful of rogue curls back under the brim of his hat. “Can you just meet up with us? The old junkyard?”

You push off of Will’s bed, and start walking through the house again, retrieving your things. So much for a nap or eating anything other than hospital Jell-O. What are you gonna say? Fuck no? 

“Yeah, yeah, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

“Thank god,” Dustin breathes. “See you then. Over.”

You make sure to check the batteries in Will’s walkie before you go, and then you’re back in your car again, backing out just as aggressively as your mother (something you said you’d never do). 

————

“Yeah, Farrah Fawcett. You tell anyone I just told you that, and your ass is grass you’re dead, Henderson. Do you understand?” 

“Yep.”

“Okay.”

Dustin goes quiet for a minute, watching each step he takes. The train tracks are old, and there are one too many loose nails for his liking. “So what’s Y/N got against you, man?”

Steve adjusts one of the gloves he’s wearing, trying not to think about the fact that he’s gonna smell like raw meat for who knows how long. “Uh, I don’t know, exactly. Never really talked to them before. But I’d assume it’s the–”

“The assholery?” Dustin interrupts. 

“Dude.”

“What? It’s true.”

“No, yeah, you’re right.” 

Dustin catches the slip in Steve’s attitude almost immediately. “Hey, they’re good, okay? I don’t think you’re a total dick, if that means anything. You’re trying and that’s what matters, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We’ll figure it out.”

“Yeah, we will. Thanks, Henderson.”

Dustin gives Steve a winning smile. This kid could rule the world, he thinks. 

“Anytime,” Harrington. He lifts his hand up, awaiting a fist bump that Steve returns without a second thought. 

————

You wander down the trail of raw meat you’ve found, not bothering to even question what's happening or where the meat came from. Frankly, you don’t really want to know. 

At the end of your path, you catch a glimpse of familiar curls, even if they are crushed under the red brim of a hat. 

“Dustin?”

The boy practically gives himself whiplash turning around to face you. 

“Holy shit, I’m so glad you’re here. It’ll be nice to have someone older than me who’s not a total pain in the ass.”

“Hey, I heard that.” 

The voice pulls your attention away from Dustin. When you look up, Steve Harrington is walking out of the biggest vehicle in this abandoned lot: a school bus. He’s wiping his hands on his jeans and pushing the ends of his sleeves up.

Dustin looks at you. “You guys have to be acquaintances at the least, right?”

You nod at him, feeling your face burn. If there’s a word for a less-than-acquaintance, you don’t know it. But that’s probably where your relationship with this boy lies. King Steve isn’t really someone you just miss. 

But yeah, you know him. You know he’s a dick. 

“Hi.” Steve pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and crosses his arms. 

“Hi.”

You only look at him for a moment before your eyes are back on Dustin. The younger boy notices the tension radiating from you, and honestly, he gets it. Steve Harrington wasn’t exactly the person he’d planned on spending his day with, but here he was. Desperate times call for desperate measures or whatever.

“So what are we doing?” You ask.

Dustin puts his thumbs underneath the straps of his backpack, bouncing on the balls of his feet a little. “It’s a long story. Best if we talk while we work.”

You roll your eyes at him, but follow the thirteen-year-old wherever he wants to go. You’re not sure you could deny Dustin Henderson anything. 

————

You watch as Max, a young girl you’ve just met, stomps up the steps of the ladder you’ve rigged inside the mess of a bus that you’re camped out in. 

Your chest aches because what Dustin just said to her was rude, it was rude, and you can’t believe the two of them. You sit, arms crossed and leg shaking up and down, glaring at Steve.

You find it hard to believe that after everything you’ve learned tonight, about Dart, about Mews—which you’re never going to get over because you only visit Dustin’s house for his cat, never him—that this is what they’re doing now.

“That’s good,” Steve says. “Just show her you don’t care.” 

Dustin is pacing, hands deep in his pockets. “I don’t,” he breathes.

Steve winks. Watching the two of them is like watching a tennis match. You don’t even like tennis.

“Why are you winking, Steve?” 

You drag your hand down your face, sick of hearing this stupid ass conversation. When Dustin sits, the constant clink of metal where Steve keeps flicking his lighter open over and over starts to give you a headache. 

“Fuck, Steve, would you quit it already?” 

He scoffs, snapping the lid to his Zippo closed harder than he had been before. “What’s your problem?”

“You’re pissing me off, that’s my problem.”

Steve’s brow furrows. He doesn’t really understand the sudden need for aggression. 

“Is this really the time for you to be yelling at me?”

“Is this really the time for you to be a dick?”

Dustin jerks the antenna on his walkie down, clearly sick of the two of you. “Would you children stop bickering? This is a life or death situation we have going on here.”

“I’d prefer death,” you proclaim. 

Dustin glares at you. “I can arrange that if you’d really rather die, than act civil for one evening.”

“I think all of the civility,” you gesture vaguely with your hands, “went out the window when you asked me to come help fight demo-dogs.”

Steve snorts at your words, and you glare at him, an “oh, is that funny?” look on your face. 

Dustin rearranges the hat on his head, stuffing his curls underneath it once again. “Alright. I’m gonna go check on our status, you two…work shit out, okay?”

“Dude,” Steve starts, “I’m older than you. I don’t have to listen to your instructions.” He gestures vaguely with his hands.

Dustin flips him off, and that’s the only response Steve receives, leaving the two of you alone in the bus.

You remain quiet, hoping that if you do you might just disappear or dissolve into the cracked leather of the seat you're sitting on. Then there really wouldn’t be any form of confrontation.

Steve starts flipping the lid to his Zippo open and shut repeatedly again, but this time it doesn’t annoy you. In fact, it gives you something to focus on, and you know that if you had one you’d be doing the same exact thing. 

You wonder if he’s nervous. Or just bored. 

Your knee begins to bounce when you realize that he’s looking at you, that he’s stopped messing with the lighter. But you refuse to look back, staring instead at the way the moonlight glints off of the metal in between his fingers. 

“So what’s your problem with me?”

The way Steve says those words is so unlike the way he’s spoken the rest of the day, the way he’s behaved with Dustin, that you feel a pang in your chest. 

He sounds like he used to. 

“Did you even hear that? How conceded you just sounded? Like it’s funny that I might have a problem with you, king Steve?”

Obviously the use of his nickname hits a nerve. He shoves the lighter back into his pocket and sits up, tucking his hands under his knees. 

“Would you just cut the shit and tell me what your problem is then?”

You sit up, matching his stance. There’s a part of you that wants to piss him off. You ache for it. 

“You’re a dick, that’s my problem.”

Steve scoffs. 

“That’s it? Like I don’t already know that?”

You roll your eyes, oblivious to the fact that all three of the younger kids you’re with have their heads hung over the escape latch in the top of the bus, listening eagerly. 

“You think I’m just gonna put up with you, Harrington? I’m sorry, did you forget the slut shaming you and your shitty friends did publicly last fall? Because I sure as hell didn’t. I didn’t forget that you walk around like you fucking own the entirety of Hawkins because you’re swimming in daddy’s money. I didn’t forget that your girlfriend took my best friend away from me.”

You stop, and Steve just looks at you. You realize how heavy you’re breathing and subconsciously watch the steady movement of his chest, trying to match the pace and calm down. You hadn’t meant to get worked up like that. But sometimes…sometimes shit just happens. 

Steve sighs. Honestly he feels a little sick. And he could argue with you some more, say that you don’t know what you’re talking about, that that’s the past, that he’s getting better. But that feels shallow. It feels meaningless. Because he knows it’s true. That in worrying about only himself or getting the girl or impressing whoever, he hurt loads more people than he realized. 

It’s such bullshit, he thinks. This life he’s been living.

“You know, I’ve gotten plenty of earfuls about my actions from Dustin, I promise you that much. He can be very mean.” 

You snort, considering there’s absolutely no denying that. “He’s a smart kid.” 

Steve nods. He’s trying to think of a way to respond. He’s not good with words. 

“Look, I-I know I’m a dick, okay?” he starts. You decide to be brave and look at him. He seems to like that. The eye contact. It’s like it lets him know you’re paying attention. He doesn’t get a lot of that, not away from school. 

“The thing with Nancy,” he gestures with his hands, looking away from you and at the wall of the bus, like it hurts him to talk about or something. “I don’t know. My solution to not getting what I wanted was apparently to take it out on her. Tommy H. proposed the idea, and I didn’t stop it.”

“You know I cleaned it off, right?” he continues. 

You uncross your arms and sit up, criss crossing your legs instead. “No. I didn’t know that.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like I broadcasted the information across Hawkins. Tommy and Carol don’t even know.”

Oh. The fact that they didn’t know tells you that he did it without needed recognition. He did it because he wanted to.

“I just—she saw it. And then there was the whole thing…”

You start to grin before you catch yourself, but he sees it. 

“It’s okay, you can laugh. I got the shit beat out of me.”

“You deserved it.”

He can’t argue with that. He won’t argue with it. “You’re right. I did. I said and did a lot that day that I regret.”

You nod, and then you’re both just looking at one another. It’s quiet out here, the same quiet you get at home, where you can hear the crickets, where you know there will be lightning bugs in the warmer months, free to roam uninterrupted by human activity. 

Steve pushes his hair from his forehead, and though he sees you track the movement of his hand, he doesn’t point it out.

“What did you mean about your friend?”

If you’re being honest with yourself, you hadn’t intended for that to come out, but being in such close proximity to Steve in this moment had just made everything spill out. 

You try to wave him off. “That was a whole thing. I didn’t mean to spill my guts like that.”

“No, it’s okay, I want to know. If you want to tell me, that is.”

You nod, chewing at your thumb nail now. Steve has the urge to reach forward and pull it free so you won’t hurt yourself, but he doesn’t. Instead he stays still and quiet, watching you contemplate a while. 

Eventually he decides to keep going. 

“I’m trying, you know,” he tells you. You look up and it gives him that little push to continue speaking. “To be better. I know you think I’m a total dick, and you’re not wrong, I know that, but I really am trying to be better. To be a good influence on those little shits.” He quirks his head upwards where he knows all three of his charges are eavesdropping, without a doubt. 

You take a second and look at him. Really look at him. He seems to carry himself differently, though it’s not something you’d notice if you weren’t looking. He’s not dressed like his mommy picked out his outfit. He looks messy. The mess draws you in. 

“I believe you. And I-I know I shouldn’t stereotype you, but it’s just—”

“I am a walking stereotype,” Steve grins. So do you.

“Yeah. I guess so. But I believe that you’re working on it. I suppose some people don’t remain assholes forever.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, though a little distracted. You still haven’t told you what you meant, but that’s not what’s really bugging him. 

There’s this pull inside him. This longing for a friend. A real friend. Not someone he knows just because their dads were up each other's asses, or someone he just sits with at lunch because they’re of the same status quo. 

And he just feels so alone right now. What with Nancy, this girl he thought he was in love with and everything, but clearly she doesn’t feel the same. What’s he even supposed to do with that? Did he ever actually know anything about her? 

It doesn’t matter. 

What matters is that he’s sitting here with you, hanging out with thirteen-year-olds and hiding from creatures Steve’s brain can’t even begin to decipher. 

“Barb,” you say. Steve panicked a little internally at the mention of her name, considering. But he keeps his eyes on you, focused on each word that leaves your mouth. “She was my best friend, in middle school that is.”

He nods. Oh. Oh. 

“We were still close when we got to high school, had a little group and everything, right? And even though high school kinda fucks everything up, I didn’t want to believe that would happen to our little partnership, you know?” 

He nods again, trying his best to pay attention. He’s trying harder than he ever has in school. He probably shouldn’t ever say that out loud.

“Anyways, she was my best friend. She was all I knew, and then we got to lovely Hawkins High, and she met Nancy. Nancy and I never really clicked, even when we tried. I guess it’s because I’ve always thought she was a pretentious bitch—sorry, Steve—but I don’t know. We just fell apart after that.”

“So Barb had Nancy and I had…no one. And the way my brain saw it was Nancy took my best friend from me, and then Nancy started seeing you, and so I saw those two from across the cafeteria, lounging with the popular kids. With you. And then she died.”

Steve is looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. Like he’s in awe of you. And it’s not anything negative. It’s warm. Understanding. Like something you’ve said has straightened something out in his brain, sorted something he couldn’t figure out on his own. 

“S-so it was like we took her from you, in a way?” he asks. 

“Yeah. And you didn’t. God, you didn’t. But it just felt like this…” you trail off, searching for the right words.

“Domino effect?”

“Yeah! Yeah. Exactly. And it’s not your fault, not at all. But I guess I already saw you as some dickish rich kid and that gave me another reason to stay the fuck away from you. And now that I’m saying it out loud I realize how awful it sounds because people change, you know?”

“No, I get it. I’ve been an asshole, and I’m sure I still am—Dustin can attest to that—but there are rich assholes that don’t change or probably won’t ever change. I know a few of them.”

You go quiet again. Steve doesn’t want you to stop talking. He’s starting to think he likes the sound of your voice. 

“It’s good that you’re changing, Steve. I’m sorry I said you were such a dick.”

A breathy laugh leaves his throat. “It’s okay, I promise. I’m sorry for…everything.”

“Maybe we can make a truce or something. Start over. It’s not like we really know each other that well anyhow.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s cool. Whatever you want.” He means that. He thinks he’d do whatever you wanted him to. 

“Okay. Maybe we can just try and figure it out.”

“I’d like that,” Steve says. He stops himself from proclaiming that he wants to try and fix this with you. Because you’re listening to him. You’re not mad. He doesn’t want you to disappear on him after this. 

You give him a small smile and he swears he might cry. Not that that feeling lasts. 

“Hey!” Dustin is leaning down into the bus, hands clasped together. “I’m so glad we’ve got this handled, but we’ve got a code red, so let’s get this show on the road, yeah?”

————

June 1985

The door to the back room swings open, a frazzled boy rushing in. You drop your candy wrapper on the table, and Robin keeps talking about the girl that you missed coming in this morning. She was “such a babe.”  

“Hello?” Steve stands in front of the both of you, hands on his hips. You have to fight back a laugh. 

Your eyes find Steve’s immediately, and you swear they soften, but maybe you’re imagining it. You nudge Robin’s leg where your foot is propped up on one of the supports under her chair. 

She stops flailing and looks up, seeing Steve’s hand raised where he’d been about to snap to get her attention. She quirks a brow. “Don’t you snap at me, Harrington! This is important shit.”

“Yeah, I’m sure. Could you two come and help me? I’m dying out here!”

It’s one of the hottest days of the year, and Scoops has had a line since it opened at ten. 

You look at your watch. “My shift doesn’t start for…fifteen minutes.” He rolls his eyes at you, though the gesture is void of any malice it could possibly hold. 

“Yeah, well this is supposed to be my break, so get out there, Buckley!”

She stands, though she’s pouting. “Come on.”

“You took the job,” he says, shoving her through the door. Robin gives him a look that you can’t see, but you can practically feel it from across the small room. 

Steve lets out an exaggerated sigh, ripping off the hat he’s been wearing and throwing it on the table in front of you. 

You watch him rummage through a bag before he emerges from its depths with a banana and throws himself down in the chair across from you, lifting your leg up from where you’d moved it to occupy the seat Robin had abandoned. His hand is warm on the bare skin of your calf, and he shifts the chair some, laying your leg across both of his. 

“Steve.”

“Huh?” He peels the banana, aggressively fast actually, and rips off a chunk, popping it into his mouth. 

“Why do you have a banana?” 

He meets your eyes. “Snack, duh.” He chews, and then gestures at the closed window. “Been working up a sweat out there I think I deserve a break.”

You grin at him, and he feels like he might hit the floor. 

“Want some?” Steve pulls off a chunk and holds it out to you. 

“Did you wash your hands?”

He gasps, mid-chew, and forces himself to swallow. “D-did I—yes, I washed my hands, mom, I’m not four.”

“Eh,” Robin’s voice breaks your little bubble. She’s pulled the window open–that way she can eavesdrop– propping herself up on her elbows. 

That makes you laugh, and when you smile your cheek is full of banana and Steve swears something is breaking inside of him. 

“Gang up on me then why don’t you,” he says, handing you the last piece he’s got left. He tosses the peel in the trash, “what do you want anyhow, Robin?” 

“Your break is up, and her shift has started. Let’s get to slinging ice cream, shitheads!”

You wipe your hands on your shorts and hop up. Steve doesn’t move, just looks at you. 

“C’mon, Steven. It’ll be lunch sooner than later.”

He grins. His eyes look tired and you wonder if he slept any last night. He told you once recently that he doesn’t always sleep well, that sometimes he has to listen to tapes in order to keep his head from being so busy, to keep the thoughts from being so loud. 

Steve has told you a lot since last fall. There’s a significant bit more that you know that’s more than what he’s given Robin, but you know he’ll let her in. He just needs the time. 

Though sometimes you think he might be giving you everything. The parts of himself he’s never shown anyone else. Because you’ve been such a good listener, and Steve’s never really had that before. 

He wishes he had the balls to tell you more. But he can’t fuck it up this time. Not with you. You’re too good.

Steve is your best friend now. You know that. He knows it.

If yourself from a year ago could see you now, she’d probably knock your fucking teeth in. But he’s just so much more than you thought. You’re not sure you’ll ever forgive yourself for not thinking there could be more in him, though he’s told you not to be upset. You’ve told him the same when he berates himself for not having paid you more attention in school.

It’s the past. You can’t live there. And today, you’re scooping ice cream for pre-sticky kids, for shitty pay, but it doesn’t matter because you have him. You have Robin. 

You stick out your hand, and Steve takes it without a second thought. His palm engulfs yours, skin warm and a little calloused. 

“We can watch whatever you want tonight.”

He squeezes your hand. You and Robin are supposed to have a sleepover with him tonight. He suggested he sleep in a guest room and you two have his bed, but Robin said she needs to be cuddled. You said you’re not letting him sleep anywhere but his bed. 

“I thought you wanted to watch Girls Just Want to Have Fun.”

“I always wanna watch that. But you can pick first, Stevie.”

Stevie. His stomach flips at that. You don’t let it out often, but when you do it’s like Steve might just die right there. 

He straightens, deal clearly made, and you pull him up–not that you need to. 

You push through the door with him, and immediately regret it. It’s like the soccer moms can smell your fear, and you know it. 

“Breathe,” Steve says. “Dustin’s here.”

He is. The entire party. That you can deal with. 

You think you could deal with an absurd line and angry mothers for the rest of your life if it meant assembling Dustin and Lucas’ weird orders. Even if you have to endure Will’s questioning looks and his pleas that you bring some ice cream home. If you have to listen to Robin’s word vomit.

If it meant spending time with Steve, you’d do it. 

God, how shit changes.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[acowardinmordor]

Wayne Munson never graduated high school. Neither did his piece of shit brother, but unlike Al, Wayne had the good sense to keep his nose out of trouble. That wasn’t to say he’d let something bad happen in front of him, but he didn’t grab a flashlight and go looking if he heard something strange in the trees.

He tried to teach Eddie any of that common sense, but his kid loved the idea of adventure too much for it to stick. Since there wasn’t any stopping the kid going looking, best Wayne could do was teach him how to handle himself.

Simple stuff like rewiring a lamp and how to patch and sew. More complex stuff like repairing his van and how to play the guitar. And since the kid always wanted fodder for those games he played, Wayne taught him bits and pieces that he learned in the war. Some first aid, basics of camping and getting yourself un-lost. Taught him the start of morse code, but the kid liked learning that elf language more.

Wayne knew there was something strange about Hawkins, and would have worried about Eddie snooping around it, but his eyes were on the highway, ready to get gone. Soon as the kid got his diploma, Wayne would hand him the money he’d been saving all these years, and he could stop worrying about Ed’s being too damn curious.

There was never a second where Wayne thought his nephew hurt that girl. Even if it had looked like something a human being could do, Eddie never would. And it certainly didn’t look like anything human. Wayne wasn’t one to go looking in the woods when he heard something. He spent his days trying to find his kid, and hoping that some grain of good sense had stuck, and Eddie wasn’t getting involved in it.

By the time that Henderson kid talked to him, Wayne had already thought it. Didn’t like it. Didn’t acknowledge it. But Wayne had had the thought. The earthquake wasn’t too bad, some feds had announced a copy cat killer and the not as dead as they thought chief of police cleared Eddie’s name.

Eddie would have shown back up by now.

So the kid handed over that guitar pick and told him a story, and Wayne couldn’t say it was a shock. Hearing that his boy was a hero wasn’t a shock either. Eddie always wanted to be the kind of person that protected others.

The feds brought Wayne some paperwork and an offer of compensation. They wanted the trailer, the whole damn thing. Wayne politely told them they could have it when he had the cash in hand. Compensation and restitution. He’d been lied to by the United States government before, and he wouldn’t trust them again.

They said it would take a few days. Wayne didn’t budge.

Now, Wayne knew what a broken heart could do. He knew that it wasn’t just romance and sweethearts that could break a man’s heart. He’d seen his buddies come back haunted, hearing whispers no one else could, jumping at shadows.

The first time the phone rang, Wayne reminded himself of those buddies, and that he was imagining what he wanted to hear.

The second time. Well.

Wayne knew that the Henderson kid was telling what he thought was truth, so he wasn’t going to go yell at him about it. He wasn’t going to go to the damn feds since they would hide his body before they gave him an answer. Henderson wasn’t the only name he heard on the phone though, and Wayne had not a single damn problem yelling at Richard Harrington’s kid. Eddie’s told some gossip the last few years, so maybe Steve wasn’t as much an asshole as his daddy, but that wasn’t going to matter.

Wayne wanted answers.

He didn’t expect the Harrington kid to listen, definitely didn’t expect him to grab a walkie talkie and a go-bag and a weapon as soon as Wayne finished speaking.

Wayne didn’t chase after the weird noises he heard coming from between the trees. Too much sense for that. He wasn’t the curious sort, needing an explanation for everything. Heartbreak did odd things to a man. He knew that lots of folk imagined a bit of hope when they were desperate. Wayne wasn’t one of those.

He was a simple, sensible man, kept his head down and lived his life. He didn’t go chasing adventures and mysteries. He wasn’t like his nephew in almost any measure or mark.

But for Eddie, he would do much stupider things than put aside his common sense.

[colliesplayhouse]

What Ive been working on :)

💙💛

[wisteriainslumber]

"Get me out of here!"

aka the twst girlies surviving an escape room in honour of me being the most unhelpful person in escape rooms

warnings: swearing and book 6 spoilers in regards to ortho

first years

has the highest possibility of succeeding

it sure wouldn't look like it though

in the middle of their allotted hour, they suggested to sacrifice grim

which yuu stopped by distracting them with a loooooong story of how they are a long lost octuplet

legit no one knows if yuu is being FR or not bc it sounds so unbelievable but their facial expressions suggest they're being so deadass abt it

unanimous decision to push ace into the coffin and started holding hands and chanting

low and behold, the weight in the coffin triggered a mechanism and they accidentally solved the puzzle into the next room

here's another example, where there was a bunch of clocks on the wall w/ different times and epel joked that it looks like the heartslabyul dorm (bc of the million staircases)

and while deuce and ace were telling stories about the amount of freshmen that fell off those staircases (rip), jack stared a lil harder and figured out a password for a lock that way

the first thought that occurs is to pick the locks

they got the shit scared out of them from the game master's voice in the walkie talkie telling them to solve it properly bc dude... don't do that??/

ortho detects hidden walls and rooms before the game even starts but he doesnt speak of them

he'll always be hovering around them though and stares directly into the security cameras

sebek is so stressed bc this space is so small and so hot. AND HES GONNA BE STUCK HERE FOR AN HOUR

jack is infected by the stress radiating off sebek for the same reasons but also bc he can hear jamil and riddle going awfff on their group in the other room and it is really freaking distracting

ortho picks up the most useless, disconnected keyboard and started carrying it around for funsies (its like so outdated and he wants to show it to idia to laugh at it) before the walkie-talkie kindly asked them to put it back because it's not a clue

epels mind is in the right place, trying to find patterns in the titles of the bookshelf, but they're really just there for decoration

grim's floor sniffing habit comes in so handy rn bc he's finding things under beds and in drawers

there is a piano in their room and aside from grim stomping on the keys, epel played hot cross buns, thinking he was the only one who knew how to play, then yuu, our champion, comes in playing some classical backing music

it shocked sebek so much that yuu was practically a music god, then asked them to play some mozart, and again, got the piss scared out of them

a loud thunk and bam, accidentally unlocked another hidden room

ace and deuce were in a competition of who could find the hints the fastest and tragically they were the two that didn't find any hints at all

in short, it was sheer dumb luck that got them out

8/10, if only it wasn't for sebek breaking down near the end of the hour because he got his hand stuck in a box and started panicking

because they were the first to finish, they were allowed to look at how the second and third years were doing and damn, they had such a big laugh about it

aka it turned into a dorm thing

second years

there are many brilliant minds in this group which would make them a very good contender for getting out

unfortunately they are smart individually but extremely dumb when together

they started handcuffed to each other and surprisingly no one really minds it

like, it's not maaaajorly distracting like they can get things done without too much struggle

and silver insists that its good to have a buddy system in case they get lost, you know, inside a very unspacious room

only downside is that sometime there will be some squabbles about someone yanking too hard but overall they're very peaceful

ruggie will be carrying all the random objects they manage to uncover in case they're needed (aka azul keeps passing over random objects for ruggie to hold— he thinks that they are clues)

mostly because kalim was supposed to, but he left them all over the place and forgot about them while trying to solve puzzles

jade, his handcuff buddy, is seeing all this happen but does he grab the misplaced items? no lmao

instead kalim's the button pusher bc he wants to be useful but sometimes he presses the wrong buttons because its so dARK, WHY IS IT SO DARK???

jamil gets so pissy that u practically couldn't see shit, so he climbed on floyd's shoulders to go fix the fucking lights

floyd complained a lot because jamil's constant reaching felt like he was personally trying to tear his arm off by the socket

silver gets so into the scenario that the escape room assigned so he's on Full Survival Mode

constantly gets on the floor to look for clues underneath things too

everyone should pray that there aren't live actors jumping out or anything because he hears Person In Distress and it's actually on sight because he has a duty to protecc

riddle is hella mad about being constantly dragged onto the floor because OW???

azul and ruggie are constantly ransacking the room for items that may be useful

what was that? useful to the puzzle? absolutely not. they're looking for things that are useful to themselves; being useful to escaping is only a bonus

the severed prop arm ruggie found was probably of no use but he's carrying it anyway just because he can

riddle and azul are the (self-proclaimed) 'designated' logic problem solvers but they overthink it way too much

its actually jade and ruggie that do most of the problem solving bc they actually know how to work in group settings

but don't be fooled, jamil finds out first, but he never explicitly states it. he just nudges people in the right direction

being trapped in a room with the most insufferable people he's met? no thank you. he wants to gtfo as fast as he can w the least attention to himself

kalim and floyd just press and touch everything and somehow end up solving a puzzle together

silver ends up solving the puzzles pertaining to colour or order

riddle makes the most comments about how none of these things are historically accurate, but also ends up being the least helpful sjdhghjk

he keeps getting hooked on the wrong detail and that derails things

azul takes a dig at how riddle is focusing too much on a useless thing but ends up being equally derailed by the wrong detail

if given flashlights, kalim keeps fidgeting with it and is happy to be everyone's lamp

they could be in the middle of solving a puzzle and at the same time, someone will be revealing a childhood story and they all end up bonding

until someone decides its time for a Jokey-Joke and end up revealing some craaaazy trauma story and the whole group goes quiet for a little bit

(aka kalim did this unknowingly)

after getting out, the staff informed the group that they couldve freed themselves from the handcuffs by following the first clue

(they started from the second one because azul unknowingly swiped the first clue for ruggie go hoard ajdkkvkf)

also the staff thanked jamil for fixing the lights and a few mechanisms and gave the entire group a discount ojhfkkdlf

so sorry jamil, even more attention has been drawn to u

6/10 teamwork makes the dream work but they're only good at being friends not teams

third years

everyone and their mother knows this group does not make it out (alive)

when they're ushered into the room and told the premise, lilia, cater, and leona are already laughing and making fun of the scenario

as soon as the group is told to open their eyes, rook, malleus, and vil start commenting on the decor and atmosphere

idia just wants to win but he and trey both agree that their current group is doomed

(also no one knows what the scenario is bc they kept talking over it)

trying to get the keycard out of some locked box was their first puzzle

malleus is three seconds away to tearing the door off his hinges when rook gleefully proclaims he's found the key in one of the prop toilets

when everyone starts looking for clues, there's constant insults being flown around of how 'the drawer is out of bounds, stop trying to open it' or 'stop looking there, we're supposed to solve this puzzle first'

and yes they use their only clues on the first freaking puzzle bc no one knows what the hell is going on and then in later puzzles they keep blaming and arguing that SOMEONE used up all their clues on the first freaking puzzle

any sort of corpse or decaying statue will have at least two people pointing at it and claiming 'its you'

in fact, cater starts carrying the supposed possessed doll because it kinda looked like lilia

idia was laughing his ass off at this before mal got pissy at him & twisted off a mannequins hand and freaked out both idia and cater with a severed hand

rook ends up cuddling with the horror prop before lilia wanted a turn

at another point, he yanked off a bolted lock since it was getting in the way, and about half the group freaked out bc why??!? why did you do that?!?!

cater lap dances the statue, which then vil criticized by saying "put more back into it"

the weight shift caused the statue to light up

when finally being presented a clue that they had to crawl a tunnel to get to, everyone told lilia to get down, and ofc he just squatted and this LOUD crack came from his joints so trey felt bad enough to the point where he crawled in instead

then rook starting carrying the prop skeleton everywhere. it's his ventriloquist arc

the counter for the most 'IDIOT's being thrown around goes to this group

seven forbid there is an old computer that pertains to a puzzle because malleus would suggest to use magic to shock it into working every ten seconds

lilia and leona end up trying to guess the password while everyone else was looking for clues

idia would insult the computer like how is this fossil still up and running?

they were supposed to find the keyboard but idia Knows His Stuff and used the on-screen keyboard to push in the password

around half an hour in, malleus got bored and started speaking in his mother tongue

lilia started communicating in hisses and clicks, which the rest of them believed was a response to malleus (its not, but mal responded in the same fashion although no one, not even the speakers, knew what the other was saying)

in the other room, you will hear rook and cater singing a duet just to have something to do and every time a new song starts, a shoe will be thrown at the pair

i'd give them like a 2/10 because, honestly, they only solved like 2 puzzles, and that's only because of cater fooling around for one of them, and the other was because leona & idia were so freaking mad at being stuck in the first room that they solved it just to get a second room to themselves

[in1-nutshell]

Being Prowl’s Human Buddy and accidentally getting sent to the Shadow Zone

SFW, platonic, Human reader

IDW/G1

It is a true miracle to even be considered as Prowl’s Buddy.

True miracle.

Prowl is protective of his Buddy.

“Hey, I’m going out to the movies with some friends.”--Buddy

“Which friends are we talking about?”--Prowl

“The ones I met in club two months ago? They invited me over with some mutual friends.”--Buddy

“Oh… those friends.”--Prowl

“Yeah, those friends?”--Buddy

“Just take this before you go.”--Prowl

“…Prowl this is a taser and a walkie talkie.”--Buddy

“A taser that can bring down a gorilla and a direct line to my comms.”--Prowl

“…”--Buddy

He knows that they can handle themselves in situations but will put himself in it at the first sign of danger. He does care about Buddy even if he doesn’t out right say it. He hates it when Buddy gets involved in dangerous situations because of him.

“Buddy what you did was irresponsible and out right crazy! How could you go out in the field and try to get Starscream’s attention. You used a rock for Primus sake!”--Prowl

“Hey! One, I hit him in the head, which was a good shot from where I was mind you. Two, I did it for a good reason! He was going to shoot you! You didn’t see him, I did! I bought you some time to react!”--Buddy

“… Just leave the heavy hitting to me... Dismissed.”—Prowl

“Yeah, yeah I’m going.”--Buddy

“Buddy.”--Prowl

“Yeah Prowl?”--Buddy

“…Thank you…”--Prowl

“No problem Prowl.”--Buddy

Now to the fun part.

The Autobots had recently gathered some sort of Decepticon tech and were trying to figure out what it was. The twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, were tasked to move the tech to Wheeljack’s new lab. Buddy was on the desk with their new noise canceling headphones working on some data pads. Prowl was making sure the way to the lab was clear for the twins to get in.

They was complaining, which was mainly Sunstreaker about needing a wax afterwards, when the tech started whirling to life.

“What did you do?!”--Prowl

“I didn’t do anything!”--Sideswipe

“Don’t look at me!”--Sunstreaker

“What’s going on! Oh Primus—HIT THE DECK!”—Wheeljack

Everyone ducked for cover, as a stray beam of light began springing around the walls. Everyone was covered… except Buddy who was bopping their head to the music they were listening to.

“Buddy! Get down!”—Prowl

The beam hit them on the top of their head.

Poof! No more Buddy.

Lucky for Buddy the beam didn’t hurt or cause any discomfort. They just noticed that it had gotten a bit chilly and dark. Seeing this as the perfect opportunity to catch up with some sleep, they pulled their jacket and decide to take a nap with the music on. Hopefully Prowl wouldn’t be too mad if they took a nap. It was a slow day anyways.

Prowl in the meantime was about to have a glitch and spark attack at the same time.

The only reason he hadn’t so far was because Buddy was the top priority right now. He immediately gets the twins to go and get Perceptor to help Wheeljack look at the tech.

It takes a bit, but the two scientists eventually figure out what had happened to Buddy.

“The device was created to take anyone to the Shadow zone. A brilliant piece of engineering if I do say so myself.”--Perceptor

“Percy, not now.”--Wheeljack

“… the shadow zone…”—Prowl

“Yes, the shadow zone…”--Perceptor

“…”--Prowl

“I think you two finally broke Prowl.”--Sideswipe

“Sideswipe.”--Prowl

“Nope he’s fine.”—Sunstreaker

They manage to rewire some bits and the beam comes out again.

Poof Buddy is back!

They are on their back sprawled out. Prowl thinks they might be dead and dashes over to look and moves them gently. His helm had millions of thoughts going faster than Blurr on circuit boosters.

“Buddy? Buddy! Buddy wake up! Wake up! Wake up please!”—Prowl

Buddy wakes up to sudden movement. They wake up to see a bunch of distressed looking Autobots and a scared looking Prowl. He just holds Buddy close for a bit before carrying them to the medbay to make sure everything is okay.

“Hey Prowl? Look I’m not in opposition to the hugs, but are you okay? I feel like I missed something important.”—Buddy

Buddy doesn’t really get to know what happened. They want to continue to nap with those sweet headphones. Prowl is considering no more headphones allowed near the lab.

[respectthepetty]

Non is either dead, he's dead and now an evil spirit terrorizing the boys or he is alive and the main killer. Thai horror films leans heavily on ghosts and supernatural but the creators of DFF seemed to have also taken inspiration from western horror/slasher films like I Know What You Did Last Summer, The Blair Witch Project, Scream and Friday the 13th.

If they are following western horror tropes then the obvious killer(s) or accomplice(s) would be Phee, Tan or both. If that is the case then Jin is clearly the classic final girl.

White has no personal stakes at this point or role in the story. He would be a pretty underwhelming final girl because I think hes boring so far. He's either cannon fodder to be slashed or he only survives because the killer is defeated. I would love if they changed my mind but we are already on episode 8. So unless we get more backstory on White that seems to be where his storyline is headed. Tee has been the more interesting character of that duo.

If they actually want to "surprise" the audience then revealing White as the killer or an accomplice would be a cool twist.

Anon, have you realized that I'm being UNREASONABLE about Dead Friend Forever? You've seen my Wild Ass Theories, so you must know I'm losing my mind with my little whiteboard and red string trying to connect the dots, right?

I'm prepared for all outcomes because I'm unhinged about his show, but . . .

"I think [White's] boring so far"

White slander? In my inbox? On a Tuesday?!

White is either an innocent bystander like his name implies caught up in this fuckery because his boyfriend Tee SUCKS, or he is a killer whose big doe eyes and kind demeanor tricked all these boys into believing he was there for love and not for *murder*, but either way, White will survive.

White realized there was no cell service.

White found the walkie-talkie.

White got the walkie-talkie working.

White found the knife.

White found the gun.

White saw part of the video.

White keeps dragging Tee's ass back when Tee wants to run.

White saw a rash on his skin.

White didn't know Tee's uncle was going to jail.

White wasn't supposed to be there.

The boy is propelling this plot forward, and it could very well be because he is Non's brother and is lying about not knowing anything about Non or Tee's uncle, which is why he swindled his way onto this trip so he would be the least suspicious and take Tee's ass down!

But what keeps me stuck is he is actively dating Tee. White is having shower sex with a man who roped his brother into money laundering, watched him get beat up, and possibly left him for dead?! Is Non's brother actually that crazy?!

In my mind, Jin could be a killer before White! But Jin is being extra creepy about Non, and I think it is being easily dismissed. Too easily.

Jin keeps touching Non. Jin keeps staring at Non. Jin convinced Non to stay with his bullies. Jin took a video of Non and planned to upload it, so regardless if the upload happened or not, the boy is still not Final Gay status.

I have not liked Jin or Tee since the first episode. Tee told White he was being disobedient and Jin had too much attitude to be on a trip with his buddies. In the words of Lil Jon & The East Side Boyz, "if yo ass wanna act, then you can keep your ass where you at."

So if Jin was sooooo upset to be on this trip, why did he come? As a killer? Possibly. But as the past as shown us, Jin does what the group does. He might protest and make side comments, but Jin is always going to do what the group wants. That's not Final Gay behavior.

This is Jin's going away celebration, so he really could be a killer and planned this entire ordeal to get everyone back together before he kills them all and peaces out to America.

But at this point, I'm completely biased.

Jin is my #1 enemy

Tee needs to die by White's hands

Tan and Phi are in this together

Non is alive

White will be the Final Gay because Phi and Tan wouldn't take out an innocent boy who wasn't even supposed to be there

And I'm quickly losing my mind

White lives.

Or else.

[eisforeidolon]

Question: Think back to the first time that you took a road trip unscripted, without your parents, without the school, where were you going, what were you doing, and what happened?

Jensen: I dunno if it was the first time, but I do remember a trip that I took with my buddies. This would have been - we were pretty young, and we rented one of those RVs, the rent-able RVs? Yeah, don't recommend. And packed, like, I dunno, five or six of us in that thing and drove from here all the way to Texas and then up to Arkansas for my buddy's wedding that was happening, and then all the way back through the desert. It was - there were things that probably happened that should not have - certainly illegal. At one point we, it was late at night and people were falling asleep and we were like, 'Hey, that looks like a good field, let's go have a firework war.' We had a whole - we had saw this - stopped along the road there was a fireworks stand, so we bought just way too many fireworks. We pull over to the side of the road, it's night. We send half the guys like fifty yards away and the other half of the guys are on this side. And we started just shooting roman candles at each other and bottle rockets, like, firing them at each other. And then like one of these was like where you shoot it and then it lands, and then it explodes? It was like we were just trying to kill each other for fun. For fun. We had a guy Teen Wolf the top of it? Like driving down the road, he climbed out the, he took off the vent thing and climbed out the hole and was just like [mimes hanging on and waving]. That's not okay. That's -

JDM: That guy was Jensen. Whenever we use the term [finger quotes] that guy? [points to himself, then Jensen, laughing]

Jensen: Asking for a friend. [JDM cracks up]

JDM: I remember my first, I don't know why I remember this so well, but I remember moving to LA and we drove. My friend Billy Burke, who was on that show Fire Country, yeah, and Charlie Swan in the whatever those vampire movies - Twilight, that's it. So he had a hearse.

Jensen: What?

JDM: No joke. He was in a band called Billy Black and something, but you know, he liked dead stuff. And so he drove, that was his car, was a hearse. And we drove this hearse from Seattle to Los Angeles. And - I mean, we didn't have a firework wars, but I think there was people like riding on top of the hearse and shit. But I do remember it really well, and I remember it just because Billy and I both are still standing today and kinda had a career, so yay. That was a good move.

Jensen: Jared and I used to, uh, road trip every year up to Vancouver for the - before we hit the season. So we would, we would - he would hop in his truck and I would hop in mine, and we would take off, you know, a week before filming started. And we'd drive all the way up, you know take the five and take -

JDM: You'd just follow each other? Walkie talkies?

Jensen: Yeah, walkie talkies. Yeah, you know, we'd be cruising along and - what a great way to, you know, bond.

JDM: Hey, let's pull over and have a firework war! [Jensen cracks up]

Jensen: No, it was like, 'I could go for a little beef jerky, some sunflower seeds'. Which is just road trip necessities. And so we did that for, gosh, like several, several seasons. Probably five years in a row we would drive up and then at the end of the season, we would drive our trucks back. And then I think by that time we had just enough coin we could leave our trucks there over the summer -

JDM: There you go.

Jensen: and fly home and have a new car, so.

JDM: That's smart.

Jensen: Yeah yeah yeah.

JDM: It's okay on the way there, on the way home, though, it's like, 'Ohh, this is a long drive'.

Jensen: It's a long drive!

JDM: I need to get home!

Jensen: Well, no, it was just the end of the season, so we were like, "Woohoo leaving it in the dust, been there for nine months, time to get back to life!' But those were -

JDM: Was that from Texas, or when -

Jensen: No, that was when we were in LA. First few years.