#i feel like everythings all bland now in stores. where tf do i go to get early 00s and 2010s clothes

[opens-up-4-nobody]

I desperately need to be a scene kid for Halloween this year

[thefreaksrunthisshow]

Saw your request for NPMD prompts, so here's a concept that's been nagging at me. Post-Max, Pete (to Steph who has complicated feeling about her late father) "You say that shooting me makes you no better than your father, but..."

Fucking Pizza

Peter Spankoffski x Stephanie Lauter

A/N: Thank you so much for sending me this request! It’s short and the title is a bit weird but trust me just read it and it makes sense lol. But anyway I had so much fun writing this and I hope you enjoy it and that I did it justice! 😊

Warnings: language, bit of angst but mostly fluff, AU where Pete and Steph get tf out of Hatchetfield

“Steph,” Peter started, his voice unsure and high-pitched. He didn’t know how to approach the subject or even what to say but he had to say something. Stephanie was more distant lately than usual and he couldn’t really blame her. They’d lost two friends, his brother, and her father as well. They were doing the best they could with their fucked up lives seemingly falling apart at the seams. The only good thing that had come out of all of it was the comfort they had found in each other. He was hoping to put it all behind them and move on together.

“I don’t want to hear it, Pete! Can’t we just forget about it!” Stephanie huffed. “Just eat your fucking pizza, goddamn it!” she slurred through a mouthful of her own fucking pizza, pepperoni to be exact. Pete had to eat that horrid abomination — pineapple pizza and she refused to try it. It was sacrilegious to the pizza gods to even think about adding fruit to their holy concoction.

He sighed and chewed his fucking pizza. It was tasteless and bland, a cheap one from the convenience store down the road, but it fulfilled the job of filling their stomachs and providing a cheap date night which was something they rarely got to do. Between all the shit they’d been through with undead Max, the Lords in Black, and all the other weird things going on in Hatchetfield they got as far away as they could as soon as they graduated high school.

Pete was enrolled in a good university studying to be… something. He still had no idea who he was or what he wanted out of life, but he was slowly figuring it out. And Stephanie? She never was one for school but she’d found something she could do and that was art. She focused all her feelings, attention, and time on creating. It’d been her outlet to process all they’d been through and she’d managed to sell a few pieces so far. Between the occasional artwork sold and Pete’s part-time job at the university library, they made it work. Things were hard, but at least they had each other.

“You can talk to me about it, Steph. Please, I’m here for you.” He moved closer to her on the tiny second hand couch and grasped her hand, catching a whiff of stale cat piss and cigarettes. They’d found the couch on the side of the road and even though it had been cleaned to the best of their ability it still slightly smelled no matter how much they scrubbed it. It was tacky, red and green plaid with yellow swirls, but much like everything else they owned it was functional, at least for the time being. Finding a new couch was at the top of his to do list and he’d sneakily been checking thrift stores trying to find one for some time now to surprise Stephanie with. So far he’d had no luck.

“You’ll never understand,” she sighed. “For god's sake, I pulled the trigger! If not for that undead bastard you would be dead! I shot you and that’s exactly what those sneaky Lords in Black wanted! They played us and… and I’m just like my father!” she cried, her facade finally breaking, tears flowing down her cheeks.

“You say that shooting me makes you no better than your father, but… it actually makes you better,” he said finally.

“What on earth could that possibly mean, Pete? How does shooting you make me better than him? It surely seems like something he would do.”

He knew his next words were of the utmost importance but how could he say what he truly meant when the thoughts wouldn’t form coherent sentences? They tumbled in his now empty brain, bouncing around like a game of pin-ball. At last the ball fell through the gap but with it came the clarity to communicate what he needed.

“Your father… He did everything for power, to further himself, right? What did you have to gain from shooting me? Did you do it for power? No, you and the rest of the world would get to go on and yet you would have gone every day full of regret. Why live with that same regret when I’m alive and sitting here beside you?”

“That’s not — ”

“No,” he interrupted. “I’m being fucking serious. Why put yourself through that when I lived? Steph, I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

“Pete, please stop.”

“No, I…I love you,” Pete confessed. It was the first time he’d actually said those words out loud to her. Before now, he’d been too scared, too worried that she wouldn’t say it back but at this very moment he didn’t care about that anymore and he meant every syllable of those three words with every fiber of his being. “You need to know that, okay? I fucking love you and I hate to see you put yourself through all this torture when we both lived! We got out of there all that is in the past now!”

Stephanie sighed and collapsed into his arms. “You ass,” she sniffled. “I love you too, you know.”

“I know,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. “Now let’s finish our fucking pizza or it’s gonna get cold.”