#is this about money? we weren’t exactly rolling in it when I was a kid but always threw together

[senatortedcruz]

Never feel like more of a Republican complaining about the wokes than when I read about elementary schools canceling Halloween for the sake of diversity and inclusion

[xfgpng]

𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢’𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞 —

— : [ nsfw ] fwb, mutual pining, pet names, unprotected sex, implied infidelity, eren is whipped, fingering

— wc : 1.6k

a/n : none of my mutuals will believe me now if i say i still don’t like eren 🧍🏻‍♀️

your friends frown anytime they see his black srt parked outside your house. he has tinted windows but they don’t need to see inside to know who he is. that car has been parking outside your house for at least 2 weeks now and judging from the way your neighbours stare over the fence, they know exactly who or what he is.

while you both came from good homes, eren had a lot of issues with his parents and he found himself moving out at 18 with no actual plans for his future. he had wanted to attend college like this older brother did but when the older of the yeager siblings moved out, eren was left alone and he was over his parents, specifically his father, trying to run his life.

they threatened to cut him off but he had enough money saved up and eventually, got into business with his best friend, jean, from high school. you and jean were in the same major and that’s how you met eren at one of their house parties.

you were his type. the shy and reserved kind, or at least that’s what he thought until he had you bouncing on his cock that same night, long acrylic nails digging into his shoulders so hard it left indents for a few days that stung whenever he showered. he still shivered thinking about how you often liked to scratch him up.

he was a bit of a pervert but he kept the ring and middle finger nails that had snapped off in his wallet. the baby blue nails made him think of you more than he’d like to admit.

you weren’t like the other rich kids he’d fuck around with. you didn’t care what he did or the way he dressed. you loved his long hair, it was nice to grip and pull whenever he was eating you out and the whole “i’m too cool for you” vibe he had going was a turn on.

“your parents aren’t home again?” he asks, watching you move around the house with ease. you’re wearing nothing but a loose sweater and panties, the same panties eren had bought for you when he ripped your pair the night you met.

“hm” you hum, getting a can of beer for him and a glass of wine for yourself. he was so carefree around you and he hated to admit that he was falling for you fast.

“i saw your old man the other day” he grins, “you know he buys weed from jean?”

that causes you to laugh. you loved your parents but your mom could be a pain in the ass sometimes so it was no surprise that your dad needed some form of a stress reliever. you were glad he wasn’t chelating.

“you break up with your boyfriend yet?” he asks, leaning against the kitchen counter as he looks down at your bare legs. he enjoyed having them wrapped around his waist but he could admire you from afar too. he couldn’t get enough of you even if the man tried.

“why, you want me to be all yours?” you tease, half expecting him to laugh it off or roll his eyes like he does whenever you two get a little too serious. you liked him enough that you could settle for whatever this was.

the bonus was free weed so you weren’t necessarily one to complain. at least he made you laugh.

“maybe” he grins, raising a brow at your shocked face. you weren’t the only one who could tease.

“we broke up last week” you shrug, “i couldn’t cum without faking it”

“what, can’t cum unless i’m the one fucking you?” eren chuckles. he wasn’t about to admit that he could only get off if he was thinking about you and if he happened to be fucking another girl, he’d have her on all fours so he wouldn’t have to look at her face. pussy these days seemed mediocre when he thought about it. he was content with whatever you had going on, even if he denied it whenever jean asked.

“you like when i stroke your ego” you scoff, taking a sip of your wine. you didn’t need him to know the effects he had on you or your body.

“i like when you’re stroking something else” he smirks, moving around the kitchen island to stand right behind you. you press your ass into his crotch and shake your hips teasingly.

“i especially like when you let me fuck you raw and cum inside you” he adds, trailing his fingers up your bare thigh. he kisses the side of your neck and inhales a little. you always smelled so fucking good that he thought about buying your perfume and keeping it stashed in his bedroom. “you ever let him finish inside you ma?”

“no” you gasp, biting your lip as his fingers dance across the hem of your sweater, “he’s never even fucked me raw”

“wow” he grins, “so you really let me hit it without a condom on the first night too?”

“yeah” you moan for him as he slips his middle finger into your pussy. you’re already wet and he’s only teasing you. it was obvious he had an effect on you and by the bulge in his grey sweatpants, you definitely had the same effect on him.

“want me to fuck you now hm?” eren whispers, right into your ear which causes goosebumps to rise all over your body, “want my cum spilling out and making a mess all over your kitchen floor?”

you can’t even think straight when he adds his index finger beside the other. he’s so skilled with his fingers and usually you’d enjoy some four play, you enjoyed sucking his cock as you played with his balls but you had all night.

maybe forever if he kept things up like this. you don’t think you could ever be with anyone else ever again and he knew that too.

“dirty little girl” he grins, biting your earlobe as his free hand pulls his leaking cock out. he strokes himself once, twice before he can’t wait anymore. he doesn’t bother pulling your panties down, choosing to rip it off you, the poor flimsy material tearing easily.

“eren” you pout, “i liked those” they were from him after all but you wouldn’t say that.

“i know baby, ‘m sorry” he groans as he slips inside you, not sorry at all. “i’ll get you new ones okay?”

you nod, gripping the counter as he sets a brutal pace immediately. you didn’t even care that your windows were wide open or the fact that your curtains weren’t closed and your nosy neighbours would definitely see if they looked which they always did whenever he came over.

“fuck baby, you’re always so wet for me” he moans, whimpers a little and that’s enough to have you clenching around his fat cock. you loved that he was so vocal, not shy to let you know just how good you made him feel. he really was the best at fucking you.

the best you’ve ever had.

he lifts your leg up, pushing you forward so your chest is squished against the counter and fucks into you harder and faster. your moans echo throughout the kitchen and your eyes cross. he fucks you like it’s been years when it’s been 2 days.

2 long days. it took everything in him not to show up and fuck you in his car. he hated when he got busy, it was less time between your thighs and he would rather spend his free time with you.

he moans at that, startling the both of you. he hasn’t realised just how much he was starting to like you. he wanted to be around you even without the intense fucking.

he liked you. a lot

“do you remember that pretty dress you wore that night?” he asks, slowing down as he gripped your waist.

“huh?” your frown, brows furrowing as you try to catch your breath. you were so close to reaching your high, your body was buzzing with the need to release but he was always persistent. “‘ren” you whine. you can’t even think properly, why was he asking that right now?

“come on ma, i’ll give you what you need in a moment, answer me” he chuckles, rubbing soft circles into your waist to help you calm down.

“i do” you say after a moment, “the green one”

how could you forget it? jean had joked about how it matched eren’s eyes perfectly and later that night, eren had you biting the hem of the dress as he bounced you on his dick, eyes trained on where his cock was disappearing in and out of you.

“what about it?” you turn to look over your shoulder at him. it still surprised you just how good looking he was. it should be a crime to be that hot.

“can you put it on for me again?” he smirks

“right now?” you pout

“no baby, later” he smiles, “i want to take you out”

you can’t help the smile so you turn away from him, hiding your face in your arm that’s perched on the counter.

“is that a yes?” he teases, touching the place where you’re stretched out on his cock. you moan as your legs shake, trying to fuck yourself. he licks his lips and you moan for him, nodding your head.

“good girl” he slaps your ass hard and then grips it tightly, holding onto your waist as he fucks you harder. he won’t stop until you’re creaming his cock and begging him to let you take a break.

[rainylana]

“Don’t you ever let me hear you say that again.”

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: you were not the kind to show weakness. you didn’t want to be babied, but you can’t help but show up to eddie’s with a messed up, bloody face.

warnings: physical abuse, alcohol use, swearing, depictions of blood and bruising, crying, soft eddie, fluff galore, vomiting.

a/n: i know this is sad, but i’ve had a bad couple of days so here we are lmao. also, i wanted to take the time to thank everyone for all the support i’ve gotten with my writing! i appreciate every kind comment, reblog and new follow i get! you’re all so welcome and loved here! feel free to send me asks and requests!

“You’re a fucking moron, Wheeler! You cost us this campaign!” You banged your fist on the table, leaning over as you shouted profanities.

“Me?” Mike scoffed. “How did I cause our downfall? You rolled a four! A four, y/n!”

Dnd nights with the hellfire club weren’t exactly family friendly, but you had to admit, they were fun as hell. The kids were annoying, especially Mike, but they did hold a special place in your heart. Eddie, your boyfriend, sat at the head of the table, giggling and bouncing as he watched you defend yourself against the table.

You and Eddie were known as one of the most chaotic, outgoingly rambunctious couples of all Hawkins High. You became best friends in middle school when you transferred from California, and started dating your sophomore year. It was rare for you two to be apart. You were always together. Whether it was at school, hellfire night or just out on the town, you were together.

“Children, children, children,” Eddie stood dramatically, waving his ringed hands. “Never forget that it’s not about loosing, it’s about how you lose. They’re is no shame in running.”

“Oh, shut it, Munson.” You rolled your eyes, causing everyone to laugh, including him. His pearly teeth shined in giggles as you fought your smirk, collapsing back into your throne like chair.

He stretched out his arm, grabbing you by the collar and pulling you close, placing a loud, smacking kiss against your lips. You both smirked as the kids cringed at your action. Eddie was terrible when it came to pda. The man had no shame, and never gave a shit who could see when he decided to man handle you, and hell, neither did you.

“Are you coming to my place tonight?” He pulled away, whispering amongst yourselves as everyone else loudly scooted out of their chairs.

“I want to,” You sighed, fixing the collar of his jean jacket. “But I’ve been gone all weekend. You know how dad is, he’ll worry.”

Eddie nodded, offering a small smile. “Sure. No worries. I’ll just miss you, is all.”

You smiled at your lover, knowing how lucky you were to have such an amazing person by your side. Hawkins treated him unfairly, because despite his status known as “The freak metalhead”, he won the national boyfriend award every year in your mind. He was thoughtful, considerate. He treated you like goddamn royalty, even. He was the most artistic, creative person you knew. You loved him with everything you had.

Your mother had died the summer before you left California, the reason why you had moved, and your dad had never been the same since. You loved him with all your heart, but sometimes, he scared you. You hated thinking that, because he was your dad, but the alcohol scared you. It had never gotten that bad before, though, and you believed he could keep things under control. When his evenings were tough, he needed a drink. And things, lately, had been especially tough.

His job wasn’t going very well, having been docked pay and hours. Money wasn’t a strong suit in your family, one of the many reasons why Hawkins high liked to pick on you too. A lot of the time, you practically lived with Eddie. You didn’t like sleeping at your house, and usually snuck out when your dad was passed out asleep.

Eddie knew your relationship with your father was strained, so he tried to be considerate as possible, offering his support in any way he could.

You helped him clean up everyone’s mess, putting away the game pieces and throwing away trash. You two always did it alone, because usually, things got a little heated. The kids knew better than to stay. “You want me to drive you home?” Eddie cleared his throat, pushing the last chair in. “Those brakes of yours make me nervous.”

You smiled as you turned, wiping your dirty hands together. “I’ll be okay. I’ll call you in the morning, k?”

He nodded as he watched you grab your bag, rolling his toothpick between his teeth. He gulped, feeling almost nervous about you leaving. But that was Eddie. He was always nervous for you to go home, because he knew how stressful the environment was for you. You chalked it all up with a brave face, pretended it didn’t get to you. He could read you, though. On mornings he picked you up for school, he could tell just by looking at you if the night had been difficult.

You walked over close to him, smirking at his sure sign of anxiety. He would always roll a stupid tooth pick. “Don’t worry about me, Ed’s. I’ll be fine. I’m sure he’s asleep by now.” You grabbed his chin, watching as his brown eyes bore into yours. “Now, are you going to kiss me goodnight, or what?”

He smirked softly, loosely wrapping his left arm around your neck, pulling you to his lips. You sighed into the kiss, his lips warm against your own, noses scrunching against each other’s. You placed your hand on his shoulder, fisting his jacket. You felt that familiar bulk of sadness build up in your chest, but you knew you had to fight it. You loved your dad, but you hated going home. You wanted to stay with Eddie, but you knew you had to go.

You pulled away from his lips, but only to bring your body his. You wrapped your arms warmly around his back, his scent buried into your chest. His arms wound tightly around yours, his head placed alongside yours. Hugs like these made him realize you were stalling to leave, he knew tonight would be difficult for you, but he long since gave up trying to convince you to move in with him actually. You were too stubborn, and liked to pretend everything was okay.

“You okay?” He mumbled, his hand moving softly at your lower back. You nodded against him, muttering a weak ‘yes’.”

You eventually pulled away, and you both smiled at each other. He gave your hand a squeeze, holding it until you walked away and broke the contact. He watched as you pushed open the basement door, and he sighed. Hopefully tonight would be okay.

•

Your breath punched it’s way out of your lungs so loudly, it created clouds in front of you. Your heart hammered so quickly, it barely made you capable of walking. Sobs cracked their way through your throat, making hoarse burns that caused you to wince. Your feet dragged along the ground, your hand holding your stomach to keep from throwing up.

The stale taste of iron filled your mouth, and though you weren’t aware of it, also dripped down your forehead. So, to some it up, no, the night had not gone well.

You weren’t even sure all of what had happened. He’d been asleep, your dad, just like you had suspected. You were nearly asleep, until you heard the loud crashing coming from downstairs. You kept telling yourself over and over to stay up stairs. Stay in bed. It’s not worth it. But you didn’t listen to yourself. You went, and you payed for it.

Your mind was in a total state of shock and disbelief, not being to handle nor process what had happened. You weren’t even able to defend yourself. It had happened so quickly, so suddenly that you barely had time to react, only your muffled screams and cries being heard. A part of you wondered if it was even your dad, maybe it was just someone who looked like him? You highly doubted it.

He had been completely hammered, as per usual, and when you tried to calm him down, your face was met with his fist, your ribs shoved into the side of a table, your throat marked with dark, purple fingerprints. Blood nearly coated your face, making you seem like an entirely different person. You were certain he was going to kill you, but it seemed like he was just bored with you.

He left you to lay there, sobbing and shaking like a traumatized animal. Eventually, you’d mustered up the strength to get up, and that led to now. You should have called the police or the nearest emergency room, but the only thing your mind screamed was Eddie. You tried so hard to keep the boy from worrying about you. You tried so hard to pretend your life wasn’t nearly falling apart.

But now, you didn’t know what to do. You were just wandering, and all you wanted was Eddie. You were in so much pain, your entire body ached and throbbed. It took nearly a half hour until you got to the trailer park, and you flinched as the loud dogs barked at your presence. You sobbed in relief at the sight of his trailer, happy to see his uncle wasn’t there. You loved him dearly, but the last thing you wanted was an audience.

Usually, you would have felt hesitant for his help. You never liked for him to see you cry, because you could see in his face how much it would affect him. Your pain caused his. But, you were running on adrenaline now, you weren’t crying anymore, only bloody and bruised. Eddie had no idea what was coming.

You didn’t bother to knock, and you used your shoulder to push open the door. “Eddie?” You tripped inside, voice cracking. “Eddie?”

You saw his bouncy, black curls first, the shine of his rings that flared in the orange tinted light of the kitchen. “Eddie.” You stumbled, sobbing dryly when you saw him.

“Y/n?” He rushed out at the weak sound of your voice. “Holy- oh, shit, what happened!” His face dropped completely, running to you and grasping your shoulders.

You opened your mouth to speak, but your throat filled with cotton. You shook your head, your eyes blurring together as he grabbed your face. “Y/n, talk to me! Talk to me! Who hurt you?”

It was starting to catch up to you, everything that had happened, and your mind seemed to go blank. Your vision blurred and it was harder to see, his words became harder to hear and make out. Your breathing slowed, and your head spun. You were finally in his presence, the only person in the world that you felt comfortable to let go around. So you did.

Your knees buckled and smacked against the floor, and the rough, burning pain of bile scorched it’s way out of your throat and onto the floor. Your chest heaved and hyperventilated, and you could barely hear Eddie beside you.

“Okay, it’s okay.” His voice nearly shook at how scared he was, holding your waist as he took in your form. The blood on you was cracked and dried into your skin, the bruised turning into a dark purple. He was trying his damnest to not loose his cool, but you weren’t complying with him.

You dry heaved one last time as you coughed, your senses coming back to. The pain in your ribs was too intense to be able to hide your tears, and you let out a painful, noisy sob as you tried to lift yourself up. “Y/n, please, what’s going on? You’re scaring me, talk to me! Who did-”

“Dad.” You sobbed, grabbing at his chest for support.

That was all it you needed to say, and you watched as the color from his face dropped, his brown eyes sinking as he took in your broken face. You looked down, breaking down in tears as you hiccuped. “I don’t- I don’t know w-what happened.” You shook. “Eddie, I don’t- I don’t understand, I can’t-”

“It’s okay, shh.” His face went back to that loving, passionate gleam that you fell in love with. He was fighting every instinct to go to your house and kill your father, to knock him on his ass and make him pay. He too, was in shock, because you looked terrible. But he couldn’t, because you needed him. You were freaking out, and he needed to clean you up.

“Shh, honey, it’s alright,” He reassured you, gathering your close so he could view your injuries. “Calm down, I- shit, y/n, tell me what hurts? Should we go to the hospital, I-”

“No!” You pulled away, standing up. “No, I can’t! Nobody can know a-about this! Dad- he, he didn’t mean it!” You flailed your hands, and he approached you slowly.

“Okay, okay, just-” He swallowed roughly, feeling powerless. “You need to sit down, baby. You’re bleeding, just..sit down, alright?”

He guided you sit down on the couch behind you, watching you like you were a wounded animal ready to pounce for it’s last fight. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” He kissed your head softly, rushing into the bathroom and opening every drawer he found.

Your hands shook in your lap, and you felt the back of your head with your shaking hand. Blood stained your fingertips, and you let out a cry. One by one, sobs began pouring their way out of your throat. You hunched over, your cries sounding hoarse and nasally from the bruises on your throat.

Eddie crouched down below you, his eyes glancing up at you as you cried. He lifted your chin up, bringing a wet washcloth to your bloodied cheekbones. His other hand rested on your knee, and he tried his best to concentrate on cleaning you up. “It’s my fault.” You finally spoke, making him flinch with your sharp sob.

“What?” He narrowed his eyes, bringing the rag down.

“I shouldn’t-” You choked on your sob, grabbing at his wrist. “I shouldn’t have gotten up. I should of just- I should of j-just ignored it. I pushed him it’s m-my fault.” You cried.

His face hardened at your words, and he sat taller, grabbing your face. “Don’t you ever let me hear you say that again.” He shook his head.

“You listen to me and you listen good, this is not your fault, you hear me?” He lifted your chin, wiping away a stray tear. “This is not your fault, sweetheart.”

He stood, moving to sit beside you. He pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you softly, careful not to hurt you. You cried into him, hiccuping into the material of his shirt. “I won’t let him hurt you again, I swear it.”

He held you throughout the night, taking care of you gently and lovingly. And he was right, because he’d never let him hurt you again.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let The Light In |Drabble (1)|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader | Platonic!Dewey Riley x Fem!Reader

Drabble One: Splashes & Changes

Summary: Even when you didn't make it easy on him, Dewey only ever tried to help you

Warning(s): Swearing

Notes: Heavily inspired by this scene in Gilmore Girls. This takes place when R first moved to Woodsboro! We get to see how R's relationship with Dewey started out so this drabble mostly focuses on Dewey and R

Masterlist

The fall breeze hits you as you walk out of the school building. You pulled out your book, and continued reading where you left off as you walked. It didn’t take long for a familiar face to join you. You didn’t have to look over to know it was.

“Hey,” Dewey nodded at you. You turned your face to him then looked back, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. You exhaled through your nose as you lightly clenched your jaw.

“How was school?” 

“Great.”

“Learn anything good?”

“Oh yeah…tons of things. I’ve got gold stars plastered all over my forehead,” you answered with sarcasm laced in your voice.

“I had an interesting call today. Wanna know who it was from?” You put your book in your back pocket as the two of you continued to walk.

“Not really.”

“So, Mr. Collier—you know he runs the store that’s not too far from your house.”

“If you say so.”

“He said you came in today–”

“He did?” You rhetorically asked, voice lacking interest. You knew Dewey was amping up to something, and you could care less. 

“—And he said you took some money out of a little donation cup to help repair the roads. I told him he was ‘crazy, you wouldn’t do that, you weren’t a thief’ that ‘he was just trying to start trouble’ and then I hung up on him. Now, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy hanging up on Mr. Collier. The guy’s nothing but a jerk—and he is crazy.

“But I was just wondering if, maybe, any of the other things were true.” 

“What do you think?” You asked, turning the question back on him. 

“I think, if you tell me that what he’s saying is not true then I’m going to believe it’s not true.”

“Okay, it’s not true.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing—”

 You stopped in your tracks and finally turned to face Dewey. You fists were clenched as you spoke, not 

“Look, what exactly do you want from me? First my mom drags me all the way from New York to here, now I get stuck with you half the time. I'm in a school that has us doing the pledge of allegiance in six–different–languages—I mean geez! I haven’t even heard of two of them. I’m supposed to be this happy–go–lucky person after being taken from my home, my friends—and now you want what from me?!”

You didn’t need this. You were fine living in a crappy–ish apartment. You were more than fine with knowing the city like the back of your hand, and knowing the people who walked it. What you weren’t fine with was dealing with new faces, and this damn town who seemed to think they knew you when they didn’t. 

They resented you, and you knew why. They would constantly compare you to your late psychotic uncle. They were making assumptions about you, before you even stepped foot into Woodsborro. 

“I’m just trying to help you,” Dewey sighed as his patience was growing thin. Dewey knew what people said about you, and he knew you heard what most of them were saying. He wished he could protect you—shield you from all of it, but he can only do so much.

“Well stop trying. Stop talking to me, stop following me, and stop asking me questions—just stop!” You were aggravated and annoyed with everything in your life right now. Unforntally, you were taking it out on Dewey. 

“That’s what you want?”

“Yes!”

“That’s really what you want?” He asked again, his voice grew a little louder.

“Yes.”

“Fine. You got it, kid!” He threw his hands up as he said this.

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome!”

You both continue to walk side by side, refusing to look at the other person. When you both walked along the bridge you suddenly felt a force shove you. In less than a second you were standing in the lake, soaked. Pushing your hair back, you look up to see Dewey continuing to walk with his back facing you as if he didn’t just shove you into a lake. 

He didn’t spare you a single glance as you tried to hop back onto the bridge. By the time you lifted yourself up, Dewey had already left. 

Nobody liked soggy socks, but you knew you deserved it. Even if you were too stubborn to admit it out loud.

—

The next day people were crowded around Mr. Collier’s store. He’s ranting about something, with his hands going up and down as he speaks angrily. When Tara walked closer she finally saw what all the ruckus was about. 

Apparently, somebody had put most of his merchandise in Christmas wrapping paper. Tara couldn’t help but chuckle behind her hand when she saw this. Whoever had done this was a genius—but it wasn’t until she looked across the street and regretted that thought.

There you were, wearing a smirk that said it all. You finger wave to her when she meets your eye line. She leaves the crowd and walks over to you. You’re leaning against something when you heard Tara say, “What’s your problem?” 

You tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows at her. “What do you mean?” You tried acting innocent even though you knew she saw right through your act. 

“You know what I mean. They all know it was you.” 

You stood up straight, before responding. “And? It’s hilarious. Don’t think I didn’t see you cracking up.” Tara turned away her face then turned back to look at you. 

“But that’s not the point. The point is you’re just making things harder for Dewey.”

Now she has your full attention. “Wait—what do you mean?” You bit the inside of your cheek as she began to speak. 

“He’s getting the blame for all the shit you’ve caused in just a month of  being here.”

“Oh…I didn’t realize they’ve been coming down so hard on him,” you say with a softness in your voice. A softness that Tara’s never heard before now. 

“Yeah—just try to get your act together.” Tara said before walking off.

You sat on one of the benches nearby, and as you tried to read you couldn’t help but think about Tara’s words. It’s not like you were making it any better for Dewey. He’s probably done more shit for you than you could say your father has. 

Moving here was definitely not ideal. All change did was bring more anxiety into your life. So, when your mother told you, you would be moving all the way to California you didn’t take the news well. You still weren’t taking it too well. There were a few reasons your mom told you, as to why you were moving but you knew the main one. To be away from your father. 

All you knew is that her and Dewey met in nineteen ninety eight during the ghostface attacks. After that they got close and became friends. You guess they definitely got along well since she made him your godfather. 

Dewey was also a former Sheriff. He knew about your track record and always made sure to keep an eye on you. It was extremely annoying, and aggravating. You felt like you couldn’t breathe!

Your mom was a nurse so you didn’t get to see much of her; she always took as many shifts as she could, because more shifts meant more money. Which is something your family could definitely use. 

Since you were stuck with Dewey so often you got sick of him—quick. 

But now, here you were, sitting on a bench, and thinking about everything. You knew you were the asshole in all this. He was just trying to help you out; he didn't need you making it harder than it already was for him.

You sighed, getting up from the bench and making your way to Dewey’s trailer. You knew what you had to do even if it meant shoving out the words. Apologizing was never your speciality. 

You knocked two times, and Dewey answered the door already knowing who it was. 

“Hey, kid.”

“Hey. Mind if I–” You pointed to inside his trailer and he nodded, letting you inside.

“So…uh—” You shoved your hands in your pockets, looking around as if you’ve never seen his place before. Dewey looked at you with crossed arms as he stood, his expression still warm. It felt like he was always wearing a warm expression no matter what.

“Hey.”

Dewey chuckled a bit before responding. “You already said that.”

“Right—I wanted to apologize.”

“Okay…I’m waiting.” Dewey took a seat on his futon, looking at you. 

“Oh, that was actually the apology…”

He hummed and replied, “For…?” You could tell from the smug he was wearing that he enjoyed this. You exhale, tilting your head back and looking at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry for making things harder than it needs to be.” You finally said, looking back at him.

“Thank you, Y/N. I…appreciate that.” He looked at you with a soft smile; you didn’t get many of those.

“No problem.” You give him a small tight lipped smile before you start to turn around. Before you could leave the trailer you hear Dewey’s voice again. 

“Why don’t you stay for dinner? I know your mom’s working tonight and Stepehen’s sleeping over at a friend’s house. What do you say?” His offer caught you off guard. You certainly weren’t expecting that after all the shit you’ve put him through. 

“Uh, yeah. That sounds nice, actually.” You give him a small smile back. What you were feeling was indescribable. Frankly, because you don’t think you’ve ever felt it before—or you just don’t feel it often enough. You could tell Dewey genuinely cared about you. It was a strange feeling, but it wasn’t a bad one.

You spent the rest of your night in Dewey’s trailer. You talked and joked with each other as you ate leftover pizza with the television playing in the background. 

The next morning you woke up to Dewey cursing at his toaster. “Fucking damnit!” You pushed the blanket off as you got up to see what was wrong. You were rubbing your eyes when Dewey saw you.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He asked, now whacking his toaster. 

“No, you’re good. But–uh, why are you assaulting your toaster?” You looked at the toaster then at him with raised eyebrows. 

“I’ve had this toaster for ten years and suddenly it just stops working,” he answered as he continued to hit the toaster on its side. 

“Well I don’t know if ten years is suddenly.”

“Whatever,” he let out a defeated sigh, pushing it away. “I have to grab a few things. Will you be fine here by yourself or do you want me to drop you off?” You looked at the toaster as you thought to yourself. 

“I’ll be good here.” You answered and he patted your shoulder, making his way to grab his keys.

“Breakfast is on the table, I shouldn’t be out long!” He called out before leaving his trailer.

As soon as he left you went for his tool box—you remembered seeing it the first time you came over. Once you had the tool box you grabbed the toaster and got to work.

It actually wasn’t that bad. There was just some tightening and cleaning that had to be done. By the time you were done you had ten minutes to spare before Dewey was home. It wasn’t until later that night that he noticed something was different about his toaster.

“My toaster—it works,” he said with a bit of shock in his voice. This toaster was a complete hunk of junk just a few hours ago. What happened?

He looked over to see you completely ignoring his words as you read from your book. Then it dawned on him and he smiled. 

“Thanks, kid.” 

“Don’t know what you're talking about.”

-----------

A/N: I feel like Woodsboro would be obsessed with Christmas....way too early, so that's why I had R wrap Mr. Collier's shit in Christmas paper.

That's 100% one of R's motives. I bet she was walking down the street and got annoyed cause she saw Mr. Collier selling Christmas stuff in the middle of October

Taglist: @t-wylia @lesbianpepsi @jennasfav @alyciaddict @justafoolinlove @steffido1993 @niqmandu @severelyuniquereview @darklron @ravenousinferno @smut-religiously777 @beautifulmongerbanditsalad @vanatalye @alexkolax @andsoigotabutterfly

[therealdisneyfan2319]

Summer | Wanda Maximoff

A Stripper MILF Wanda Cinematic Universe Story

Summary: Summer in Westview is quite the adventure :)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Mild language, innuendo

Word Count: 2.7K

Masterlist

The week you took vacation from work was the hottest week on record for the small suburban town of Westview, New Jersey.  There were a million things on your to do list, but the sweltering heat and stifling humidity sapped all of your energy.  The shed needed to be painted, the driveway needed resealing, and you promised Wanda that you’d finally go through the boxes of “stuff” that were sitting in the basement.  Yet all you wanted to do was sit on the back porch with a beer, work on your tan, and stare out over the sparkling ripples of water in the pool that you didn’t have…until today.

It was meant to be a surprise for Billy and Tommy, but you and Wanda both had to admit that you were excited, too.  Talk of a pool started as a joke.  The idea of actually going through with it seemed absurd at first: the yard wasn’t all too big, taking care of a pool was a lot of work, it wasn’t exactly cheap to have it installed in the first place…your shared list of excuses stretched on and on.  Yet the more the two of you joked about it, the more you found yourselves falling in love with the idea of your own personal oasis.

Keeping the pool a secret wasn’t as hard as you thought it would be.  Although Billy and Tommy often made passing remarks about wanting a pool as the temperature rose, Wanda kept them in check with a smart remark about money not growing on trees or an eye roll.  More often than not they dropped the subject.  But it was frequently followed by a subtle smirk or knowing glance in your direction: the boys had no idea what was coming.

On this hot and hazy Thursday morning, after Billy and Tommy were picked up by the school bus on their way to summer day camp, the local pool installation company pulled into the driveway.  Since you were getting an above ground pool, it would be finished before the boys got home from camp.

“So who’s gonna get in the water first?” you asked Wanda as you sat in your Adirondack chairs on the back porch.  “Billy or Tommy?”

“Tommy.  Definitely.  I’m not even sure he’ll change out of his clothes before he jumps in,” Wanda chuckled.  She swirled her straw around the glass of freshly squeezed iced tea, the ice cubes clanking around the glass as she looked out at the two workers setting up the walls of the pool.

“And you’re sure we can’t get in as soon as they’re done filling it up?  That we have to wait for the boys to get home?”

“Y/N-”

“Only kidding, my love,” you retorted.  Truthfully you weren’t kidding.  The donut floaty wasn’t for them…

******

“Still can’t believe we actually did this,” you thought aloud, skimming your hand across the surface of the water.  The sun bounced its crisp surface as the blue liner sparkled brightly underneath the ripples.  You smiled as your fingers broke the surface.  

“The boys are going to love it,” Wanda replied as she splashed the water around.  

“Yeah, sure, they’ll love it, but think of all the fun we’ll have with it.”

“Oh?”

“Two words: skinny dipping.”  

“Y/N!” Wanda blushed bright red at your devilish thought, but you knew that she was just as excited about the prospect of a late night nude swim as you were.  You ducked out of the way when she splashed water in your direction.  “We have neighbors!”

“And-?”

“I don’t think Agnes would appreciate seeing either of us naked.”

“We don’t know that,” you answered with a knowing grin.

“Keep it up and you’ll be the one going in the pool with your clothes on,” she warned.  Suddenly Wanda reached for her pocket, her soft marimba text tone echoing softly against the soft hum of the pool pump.  “Shit,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Kate called out, they’re one girl short for the 3-11 shift,” Wanda sighed.

“Do you want to go in?” you asked.

“Not really, but it looks like I’ll have to.”  Wanda placed her phone in her back pocket, rubbing her temples as she stared into the pool.

“Hey, don’t worry about it.  I can watch the boys tonight.  It’ll be some good bonding time for us.”

“No, I know you can watch them, I just wanted to be home for this tonight.”

“I mean I don’t know about them but I think I can find a way to make it up to you later,” you teased with a wink.  Wanda merely shook her head and smiled as she headed back inside.

“Sex isn’t always the answer to everything, Y/N,” she replied over her shoulder.

“Who said I was talking about sex?!”

******

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” You extended both arms in front of you as Billy and Tommy jumped off the school bus and ran up the front porch.

“He did it!” Tommy yelled, pointing an accusing finger at his twin.

“What did I do?” Billy exclaimed.  “Whatever it is, he did it!”  The accusation sent the two into a back and forth of hearsay until you managed to intervene before push came to shove.

“Woah!  Take it easy, dudes.  No one’s in trouble.  Your mom got called into work so it’s just us tonight.  Which is cool.  We were just gonna grill up some burgers for dinner later, but there is a surprise for you in the backyard.”

“Dirt bikes?!” Tommy asked giddily.

“A trampoline?!” Billy asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Why don’t you go out back and check it out for yourself?”  You grinned at them as you lowered your arms, allowing them to push each other out of the way as they trampled up the steps of the front porch.  “Don’t kill each other before you get there!”

Before long shouts and cries of awe and excitement echoed from the backyard.  There was no doubt that they were overjoyed at the sight of the brand new pool.  It didn’t take that much longer for them to rid themselves of their backpacks and t-shirts and scramble into the crisp, cool water.  You laughed to yourself, extremely grateful that you yourself didn’t have to wait any longer to indulge.  Throwing on your swim trunks, which you pre-set in the downstairs bathroom, you practically dove in on top of the boys.  

The three of you spent the next few hours splashing about in the cool water.  Billy was the first one to find your donut floaty, much to your chagrin.  You instantly felt you had to reclaim your rightful place on said floaty so naturally you flipped him off and climbed inside.  That started an intense game of king of the hill.  Tommy convinced Billy to team up against you.  They attempted to sneak around you and swim up from underneath the floaty in an effort to flip you over.  They failed.  Multiple times.  Eventually you ended up dunking both of them, flipping them off the floaty after they thought they had you beat.  

Once you were thoroughly waterlogged, you grabbed your towel to dry off.  The boys begged to stay in just a little bit longer.  You relented only on the condition that nobody mention it to Wanda.  That was the mantra of the evening: don’t tell Wanda.  Don’t tell Wanda you flipped both boys underwater, don’t tell Wanda you let them stay in the pool for as long as they did, and definitely don’t tell Wanda how you accidentally set Agnes’ tree on fire.

******

“Y/N, are you sure you were a Boy Scout?” Tommy asked as you failed to spark the bonfire for the dozenth time.

“I don’t think he was a real Boy Scout ‘cause we’d definitely have a huge fire by now,” Billy whispered rather loudly to Tommy.  

“Either one of you think you could do a better job?”  You twisted around, lighter alternating between their reluctant faces.  The stunned silence gave you their answer.  “That’s what I thought,” you responded as you turned back to the firepit.  Standing there, hands on your hips, you harrumphed at the pitiful pile of sticks in front of you.  Normally it was no trouble starting a fire.  You’d done it plenty of times before.  Something just wasn’t working. 

“Now what?” Billy asked, his head cocked at an angle as he watched you staring at the pit.  

Sighing, you rubbed your temples as you weighed your options.  There was no way you were going to let the night end without some sort of pyrotechnic display.  That and you really wanted a s’more.  So there was only one real option left: a little bit of help.

“Hey Tommy, can you go grab the can of gas from the garage?  And Billy, can you go grab the newspaper from the counter?”

“Seriously?  Mom’s gonna kill you,” Billy told you.

“And that’s why we’re not going to tell her about this, okay?”  Billy, always his mother’s son, rolled his eyes before heading to the kitchen.  Tommy, on the other hand, sprinted toward the garage.  Once the boys returned, you doused the kindling with the accelerant and wadded up the newspaper, stuffing it in every nook and cranny.  “Alright, now stand back.  I don’t want you two too close in case this thing goes poof.”  Grabbing the box of matches, you struck three against the side of the box and tossed them onto the pile.

The resulting explosion was impressive to say the least.  The shockwave from the ignition caused you to stumble backwards as a fireball shot high into the sky.  Billy and Tommy both cheered as the fire came into existence, but they weren’t the only ones yelling.

“MY TREE’S ON FIRE!” Agnes yelled out the window.  “YOU SET MY TREE ON FIRE!  WHY IS MY TREE ON FIRE?!”

“Shit!” you muttered as you raced for the hose.  You apologized profusely as you sprayed the water over Agnes’ tree and the fire itself, extinguishing everything until it was a smoldering mess.  The boys muttered to themselves the entire time, watching wide eyed as you scrambled to put out the fire and Agnes leaned out her bedroom window in her nightgown to yell at you about trying to kill her.

“Does this fall under the ‘don’t tell mom’ category?” Billy asked not-so-innocently.

“Breathe a word of this to your mother and I drain the pool.”

******

Wanda returned from her shift around 11:30.  The boys were already asleep and you were on the couch with another beer trying to figure out how to keep Wanda from learning about your near-disaster with the bonfire.  It felt like the future of your relationship rested on how well Billy and Tommy could keep their mouths shut.

“Hey,” Wanda called softly as you heard her bag thud to the floor.  “How’d it go with the boys?”

“Oh you know,” you replied.  “They kept trying to drown each other in the pool and then when I got in they tried to drown me.”  

“And everyone tells me boys are easier than girls,” Wanda sighed.  “Or at least that’s what Agnes tells me.  She tells me a lot of things, you know.”

“Oh?”  Shit.  She knew.  “Like what?”

“Like how you practically blew up the neighborhood a few hours ago.”  Wanda stood in front of you, her arms crossed as she glared down at you.

“Okay she’s exaggerating.  It wasn’t the whole neighborhood, it was just the backyard.”  That wasn’t making things any better.  Wanda continued glaring at you.  You couldn’t tell whether she was going to murder you in your sleep or do it right there.   

“It’s a good thing I love you, mister, or you’d be sleeping on the couch for a month,” she scolded as she shook her head.  You gulped as a wave of relief flooded over your body.  “Now how’s the water?”

“What?”

“The water.  In the pool.  How is it?”

“Uhh fine, good.  Refreshing?  Wanda-”

“Come on,” she said, extending her hand.  “Let’s go for a swim.”

“Now?!  Wanda, it’s almost midnight!”

“And?” she replied as she pulled her t-shirt off.

“You brought your swimsuit to work?” you asked, casually pointing at her burnt orange bikini top.  “You brought a bikini to work?”  You were practically drooling as Wanda undid the buttons on her jean shorts, sliding them down her legs and kicking them in your direction.  All she did was smirk.  “Goddamn, woman.”

“Go get yours on and meet me outside.”  She turned on her heel and walked toward the backyard, her bikini bottoms leaving nothing to the imagination.  

You raced upstairs for your swim trunks, the other pair you knew Wanda would love.  There was no way you’d wear these ones around the boys for obvious reasons, but around your lover?  Without a second thought.  The bright red, three inch, leave nothing to the imagination shorts were packed deep in the depths of your underwear drawer.  You pulled them out, quickly exchanging your gym shorts for the trunks before dashing back downstairs.

Wanda was already in the pool by the time you got outside.  In the pale moonlight, your girlfriend was ethereal.  The light reflected off her pale skin, dancing on the soft ripples of water.  She was sitting in your donut floaty.  Her head rested on the plastic frosting and her eyes were closed in a state of relaxation.  Her feet kicked lazily in the cool water, beads of water rolling down her legs as she let the stress of her unexpected shift melt off her.  She looked absolutely at peace.  

Yeah, we’re gonna fix that, you thought as you walked over to the pool.  Taking great care, you climbed the ladder as quietly as you could and entered the water with the utmost stillness you could muster.  You shivered as the water creeped up your legs and over your waist as you crouched down.  The pool wasn’t too big so you didn’t have far to swim.  As soon as you were underneath Wanda, you pushed against the bottom of the pool and upward, completely tossing her off the floaty and into the water.  

Wanda screeched as she felt herself fly off the floaty and into the water.  She kicked and sputtered as she came up for air. You, on the other hand, were doubled over in laughter.

“What the HELL, Y/N?!” Wanda shouted as you continued laughing.  

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized between laughs.  Wanda looked absolutely furious as she cocked her head at you, pushing a wet strand of hair out of her face.  

“Fine.  If that’s how you want it.”  With that, Wanda began wading over toward you with a devilish look in her eyes.  

“Wanda, what are-?” Before you could finish your thought, your girlfriend wrapped you in her strong arms and practically body slammed you underwater.  The waves crashed over you again and again before settling.  “Not fair!” you sputtered, coughing up the water you were currently choking on.

“You started it!” Wanda reminded you.

“You’re insufferable.”

“And your dick looks huge in those trunks,” she smirked, glancing down at the shorts that had practically molded themselves to your body.

“Didn’t think I needed the trunks for that statement to be true, Wands,” you replied cheekily.

“Oh you don’t.  I’m just admiring the presentation, that’s all.”  Wanda waded toward you as she continued to eye your bulge.  “And you’ve even got it wrapped up in a nice bow.  How thoughtful.” 

“Here?  Right now?” Your heart caught in your throat as she slipped her fingers inside the waistband of your shorts.

“Weren’t you the one who suggested we go skinny dipping earlier?”

“Come on babe, I was just joking.”

“I know,” Wanda chuckled as she tugged your waistband toward her.  “I’m just teasing.  But I think you could stand to loosen up a little.”  

“I…you’re not wrong there.”  You shook your head as you laughed at her.

“The boys asleep?” she asked, glancing up toward their room.  You nodded, noticing the lack of light coming from the room.  “Basement?”

“Works for me,” you shrugged.  You yelped as Wanda snapped your waistband back against you. 

“Come on, tiger.  I don’t wanna wait much longer.”

[half-oz-eddie]

One More Night Before I Turn Myself In

18+, Graphic Depictions of violence, mentions of abuse, fetishizing

Steve Harrington has had it up to his ears with Hawkins. He lost Nancy, his parents divorced and all anyone ever cared about was dumping their kids on Steve, with the big house and all the free time—no, fuck that. He needed to be somebody that could enjoy life somehow. 

In the middle of the night, he got in his car with every intention of quietly disappearing from Hawkins for good. Not like anyone would miss him anyway—

He screamed when a dark figure slammed down on the hood of his car. He trembled as it made its way to the passenger’s side. 

Oh. He sighed in relief. It’s just Hargrove. 

Hargrove?!

Steve rolled down the window. “Whaddya want, Hargrove? I’m not in the mood for a fight.”

“Not here to fight, Harrington. Where ya headed?” He asked, leaning into the open window. 

“Dunno. But I’m getting outta here.”

Billy pulled the door handle. “Open up.”

“Why?”

“C’mon just—“ he struggled with the door handle until Steve unlocked it and allowed him in. “Take me wherever you’re going.”

“What? No—“

“C’mon! Please? I need to get outta here for awhile.”

Since when was Billy the type of guy to say please? 

“Ugh, fine.” He groaned. “But I don’t wanna hear any complaints.”

“I’m not gonna say shit.”

Steve took off in the silent night, driving past the Now Leaving Hawkins sign before Billy glanced over at him in the dim moonlight.

“No radio?”

“I thought you weren’t gonna say anything.” Steve snapped.

“Touchy.” Billy tusked. “Just saying. It’s too damn quiet. It’s creepy.”

“Fine.”

Steve turned on the radio, just as a breaking news story was broadcasting.

“—was shot and killed in his home—“

Billy reached over and changed the station, letting Hungry Like The Wolf play.

“You like this song, right?”

“Yeah, it’s…one of my favorites.”

“Cool.” Billy muttered. 

They drove in silence for another 10 miles before Billy asked Steve to pull over so he could “take a piss in the woods.”

“Can’t you wait til we reach a gas station?”

“I can’t hold it.” Billy insisted.

“Fine. Go.” Steve pulled over and Billy jumped out. 

He went behind the closest tree and Steve turned up the radio slightly, none the wiser to the sounds of Billy discarding something in the woods. 

He returned to Steve’s car and the drive continued on. 

Eventually Billy had fallen asleep, slowly waking up before sunrise.

“Where are we?” He asked in a groggy voice.

“Pittsburg, Pennsylvania.”

Billy stretched and sat up. “Why here?”

“It’s far from home and I saw an ad for a job here. I’m checking into a motel. What do you plan on doing?”

Billy shrugged. “Whatever you’re doing.”

“Hey, I said I’d drive you. I’m not carrying you along and taking care of you—“

“I didn’t ask you to take care of me. I can take care of myself. I have money for my own fuckin’ room.” Billy said matter-of-factly. 

“Whatever, fine.”

They walked into the motel together and Steve requested two separate rooms. 

“It’s cheaper if you double up.” The desk agent suggested. 

They looked at each other then shrugged, agreeing to split the fees for a double room. 

They each received keys to room 206 and stepped inside. Neither of them had any luggage on them so there was no need to settle in. 

Billy claimed the bed closest to the bathroom, tossing his jacket on the chair and lying down on the bed. He turned on the TV and found an old movie to watch.

“It might be cheaper if we split for breakfast too.” Steve presented the idea.

Billy passed Steve a $5. “Get me a six pack.”

“You’ve gotta eat—“

“No. I don’t know how long I’m gonna be out here, or what I’m gonna do next, so I gotta save my money.”

Steve sighed, leaving the motel room without another word.

Billy fell asleep once more, springing up when Steve returned.

“I got your six pack, but I also got you some food.” Steve passed Billy a sandwich. 

“…Thanks.” He reluctantly accepted. 

They ate in awkward silence. They didn’t exactly like each other, or know what to talk to each other about. Deep down, they were both scared because of how foolish and impulsive they were being, but they didn’t want to discuss it at the moment.

“I’m gonna go and, uh…try to find a job. Want me to drive you anywhere?”

“No, I’ll just hang out here.”

“Suit yourself.”

Once Steve was gone, Billy decided to take a shower and go for a walk to clear his head.

But his head would never be clear after what happened. It still felt like a hazy nightmare. A nightmare that would never end. 

He was so in his head, he didn’t realize that he’d been walking around aimlessly for hours. 

When he returned to the motel, Steve was already there, this time, with lunch. 

“Stopped at a KFC. Want some chicken?”

“Just a little.”

Steve passed Billy some chicken and a biscuit. They enjoyed it with some beers. 

“So, uh…where’d you go?” Steve asked. “Sightseeing?”

“Something like that.” Billy answered vaguely.

“I um…I got a job. It’s at a uh…bowling alley nearby.”

“Congratulations, Harrington.”

“Thanks…”

The awkward silence returned. Steve felt like he had to tread carefully with Billy. He still didn’t understand why they were playing survivor in a motel room, or why they both decided to run away the same night—or why he agreed they’d do it together. Was Steve this desperate to not be alone? 

Maybe so.

“Hey, do you like—wanna go to a club tonight or something? Get drunk, meet some hot girls, I dunno.” Steve laughed.

Billy glared at him before his expression softened with a snicker. “Whatever, sure.”

“Yeah?”

Billy shrugged. “You’re cooler than I thought, Harrington.”

“Sucks we got off on the wrong foot, right? But it’s not too late to start over.”

Unbeknownst to Steve, it was far too late for that. But just for tonight, Billy wanted to enjoy it.

Steve took Billy to a thrift store and they bought something affordable to wear for their night out, then found a nightclub. 

They opened a tab, got some drinks in their systems and mingled with some girls, but oddly enough, felt more comfortable clinging to each other instead. 

“You two look kinda cute together.” One of the women they met mentioned. 

Steve emphatically shook his head and Billy waved it off. “O-oh we’re not—“

“We’ll pay you a hundred bucks if you let us watch you dance together.” The second woman proposed. 

Was this like…some sort of fetish to them? Do they get off on seeing guys dance together?

“I mean, for a hundred bucks…”

Steve snapped his head in Billy’s direction. “What the hell? You serious?”

“What’s the problem? It’s just a dance. You scared?”

“I—no—whatever, c’mon.” He acquiesced, taking another shot before allowing Billy to drag him onto the dance floor. 

They glanced over at the women who watched them, expecting a good show.

Billy pulled Steve close by his belt loops. “Just close your eyes and pretend I’m somebody else.”

“I don’t mind dancing with you.” Steve admitted. “It’s not like you’re—ugly—or something.”

Billy smirked and leaned into Steve’s ear. “Hey, Harrington…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you fuckin’ flirting with me?”

Steve pulled back to get a read on Billy’s expression, relieved to see a smile on his face. Maybe he’s just joking.

Steve began to shake his head, before smiling and shrugging.

Maybe Steve’s just joking too, Billy considered.

They let themselves relax and enjoy each other’s company, invading each other’s personal space, swaying and gyrating to the music, half hard cocks obviously felt against each other’s.

There was electricity coursing through them, and they found themselves liking this far too much. It had to be the alcohol, they both believed. 

Billy leaned into Steve’s ear again as Steve’s hand made its way onto Billy’s ass. 

“I’m horny.” Billy confessed. 

“What do you want me to do about it?” Steve asked.

“Do you wanna do something about it?”

“Kinda, yeah. Is that weird?”

“No. You wanna go back to the motel?”

Steve’s cock was throbbing at this point. Of course he wanted to go back to the fucking motel.

Billy pulled Steve in the direction of the women, hand out for the payment. 

“We’ll double it if you kiss.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.” Billy grabbed Steve, leading him in a sensual tongue kiss. Steve couldn’t resist the urge to grab Billy’s cock while Billy grabbed the back of his neck.

Fuck. He didn’t know what was in the air, or those drinks but Jesus Christ did he want to bring Billy back to the motel and fuck his brains out. 

The women paid them their $200 and they took a taxi back to the motel. 

They didn’t think, they didn’t discuss, they didn’t reconsider. Clothes were simply flying off at the door before they landed on Steve’s bed, Billy’s hand wrapped around both of their cocks as they kissed. 

The night felt like a fever dream but the feeling of their cocks touching and the sensation of their tongues darting against each other’s reminded them both that this was real—for whatever reason it was happening. It was fucking happening. 

“Have you ever done this before?” Billy asked, lips still pressed to Steve’s.

“Had sex? Mhm. Of course.”

“With a guy, Harrington.”

“No, but a hole’s a hole, right?”

Billy tusked. “You make me sound like a cheap whore.”

“Not cheap.” Steve corrected. “You’re definitely worth $200.”

They laughed against each other’s lips before their kissing resumed. 

Billy continued to jerk their cocks until they were painfully hard. He loosened his fist and spat into his hand, rubbing it all over Steve’s cock. 

“Fuck me.” He exhaled. “Don’t be a pussy.”

Steve positioned himself between Billy’s legs and slowly slid his cock inside. 

“Oh fuck, you’re so tight.” Steve moaned, thrusting in and out and in and out. Faster, harder, rougher. 

Billy had done this before, and didn’t mind that Steve was being so rough, but shit…his cock was massive, and he could feel every inch as he thrusted. 

Steve didn’t understand anything except the feeling of his cock drooling inside a man’s tight asshole. And the man happened to be Billy Hargrove, who was as pretty as ever writhing beneath him. 

He slowed down his thrusts, savoring their kisses, relishing in how incredible sex felt.

“I’m gonna cum.” Billy moaned out.

“Me too, holy shit. You feel so good.”

“Cum in me, if you like it that much.”

Billy’s invitation was just enough to send a rippling feeling down Steve’s spine as he came inside Billy, emptying himself inside his hole.

Billy soon followed, spilling out all over himself.

They stared into each other’s eyes, still in disbelief that they acted on their sudden attraction to one another. 

— 

They got cleaned up and slightly sobered up, then sat at the table, eating some chips. 

“So…uh…I wasn’t sure—“

“Wanna hear something crazy, Billy?”

“I guess.”

“I think…” Steve chuckled. “Maybe this was meant to be. It just—all of it felt so right, didn’t it? I’m not saying we have to jump right into anything, but—“

“I can’t, Steve.” Billy deflated. “I can’t…we can’t.”

“O-oh I—“ He nervously laughed. “I wasn’t trying to be weird but—“

“It’s not that. Tonight was…great, but…I can’t because…I need to…turn myself in.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Turn yourself in…for what?” He warily asked.

“I got so fucking sick of…him…beating me and treating me like shit so…I went in his room…I got his gun, and while he sat at table reading the paper and waiting for dinner, I raised his gun to his face, and...”  Billy pointed a finger gun at Steve “blam.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Y-you…killed your father?!”

“And tossed the gun in the woods when we made that pit stop.”

Billy didn’t seem remorseful at all, but if he was indeed a victim, well, then Steve was willing to defend him.

“Hey, you’re a victim in this.” Steve comforted, holding Billy’s hand across the table. “I’m sure they’ll understand—“

“I shot him right in front of Susan.” Billy replied emotionlessly. “She would never speak up for me.”

“What about Max?”

“She’s just a stupid kid. It doesn’t matter what she says.”

“I don’t want—I don’t want you to go and spend the rest of your life in prison over someone who abused you.” 

“Doesn’t matter. I can’t be on the run for the rest of my life.” He frowned. 

“Let’s go to sleep and sort it out together tomorrow, yeah?”

Billy noticed how desperate Steve was for him to stay. Why, though? It didn’t make sense. It’s not like they were in love or anything. Sure, he liked the guy and felt this insane connection to him. And maybe Steve felt like Billy was the only familiar piece of Hawkins he had with him. 

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter.

Billy couldn’t stay. 

But for the night, he humored Steve. They talked, they cuddled in bed, and Billy let Steve fuck him one last time.

But this time, he was gentler, slower, and it felt like, maybe, Steve knew he’d leave in the morning, whether he wanted him to or not. 

Which was true.

When Steve woke up the next morning, Billy was long gone. All he left behind was his watch and a note.

“Put some money on my books, pretty boy.”

[aerequets]

anya's big little sibling conundrum

posted on ao3

summary: Anya is excited about the fact that she's going to be an older sibling, until George spins a different tale. Now she can't stop fearing the worst. Luckily, she has friends and parents to remind her that she isn't going anywhere.

a/n: it's common for only children to get jealous when a new kid is on the way. although this isn't exactly anya being jealous, it's more like her being insecure. i think she would be, since she's been returned four times already (😔) but luckily she has GOOD PARENTS to remind her that that's never happening 😤 also hopefully the kids sound like kids but like idk how 7-8 year olds speak so we'll just have to deal with it ig LMAO

also just a few things:

-this is set 2 years later, so the kids at eden are 8 (anya is 7) -loid and yor are together-together; they told each other about their secret occupations, but not anya yet, because she's really young. (obvs she already knows though)

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.

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Anya was going to be an older sister. 

It was a fact she’d been announcing around school ever since she’d found out. Or, more accurately, ever since her parents had decided to tell her last week. It would be bad if she was announcing Mama’s pregnancy without ever having been told. Despite the fact that a lot of the kids at school were rich and snooty and laughed at her for doing ‘commoner’ things, a younger sibling was something many of them didn’t have—and something that money couldn’t buy. Sometimes classmates she hardly talked to would come up to her and ask about it. 

Anya couldn’t lie—she was relishing in the attention a little bit.

Becky had been thrilled, then devastated for a brief spell (“My Loid”, she’d sobbed), but ultimately she was almost as happy as Anya. “I’m a little jealous,” she admitted. “I’d love to have a little baby sister I could dress up. We have to go shopping for clothes.”

“We don’t know if I’ll have a sister or a brother,” Anya pointed out. Becky blinked, as if it hadn’t even occurred to her that the baby might be a boy. 

“We can still go shopping,” she contended. “All baby clothes are cute! There’s gotta be gender-neutral clothes too.” She went on to detail the ways in which infant fashion was, in fact, a great industry with much to offer.

Anya hummed along, but truthfully, her mind wasn’t on clothes. She was thinking of all the cool games she’d play with her sibling. They could be an agent recruit in her spy game! She’d show them cool things like silenced-pistols and hideout spots in their home. They’d share peanuts and watch Spy Wars together. And, of course, Anya would have someone to regale with the tales of her super-cool heroic deeds. 

Anya snapped back to attention when Becky’s voice turned sour. “Ugh, not them again.” 

She didn’t have to look at the approaching posse to see who Becky was referring to. Even though they were in year 3 now—much older, cooler, and more mature in Becky’s own words—Anya hadn’t gotten much closer to Damian. They fought less, but they also weren’t on house-visiting level yet. It was more like a truce than a friendship, but hey. She hadn’t punched him in two whole years. That had to count for something. 

“Look who it is.” Ewen was the first one to speak up, a smirk pulling at his face. “Forger and Blackbell. I bet you two were talking about something stupid, like always.” 

“We were actually talking about baby clothes,” Becky shot back. It had been more of a one-sided conversation, but Anya didn’t mention that. “Since Anya is gonna be a big sister.”

“We know, you’ve only told us a bajillion times,” Emile said, rolling his eyes. “Big deal.”

“Damian’s big brother is perfect. That’s why Damian is perfect too,” Ewen added, gesturing to the boy standing in the middle of their trio. Damian stayed silent and impassive while Ewen went on. “You better clean up your act or you’ll screw up the kid before they even enter school.”

“I’m gonna be a great big sister,” Anya retorted. “I’ll play with them all the time and share my toys and candy. And give them important life or death advice!”

Emile tsked. “I feel bad for the poor child already. Right, Damian?”

Damian looked haughty as ever, fists stuffed in his pant pockets, but he didn’t agree right away. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Demetrius had done that stuff with me, he thought. Anya’s eyes widened. 

“What’re you looking at?” Was what came out of his mouth instead when he caught Anya staring. “Sheesh. The first thing you should teach the kid is that staring all bug-eyed is creepy.” 

With that, the trio sauntered off, leaving behind a disgusted Becky and a shocked Anya. Bug-eyed?! 

“Whatever, don’t mind them,” Becky huffed. “I know you’ll be a great sister.”

“Thanks,” Anya said warmly. Sometimes she thought about how lucky she was to have Becky as a friend. At that moment, George walked by, stopping when he saw them.

“I heard about your baby sibling,” he said. Anya puffed up. 

“Yep, I’m gonna be a—”

“I’m sorry,” George sighed. Anya froze mid-sentence. 

“Huh? What for?” 

“What? You don’t know?” George turned his face up to the sky and, at that moment, a breeze ruffled by, exemplifying the melancholy expression on his face. “Why…your life as you know it is about to end.”

“WHAT?!” Anya hadn’t heard about anything like that. Was the baby going to kill her once it came?! But surely she’d win, right? She’d done Mama’s special training. But—no, wait. Anya balked. The baby was inside Mama. Did that mean it had her strength, too?! Anya’s head spun as she imagined a swole baby. She might just lose her life. 

“Stop talking nonsense,” Becky snapped, dragging Anya out of her reverie. “What do you mean, her life will end?” 

“You wouldn’t know, since you’re an only child,” George replied. “But I do. I got a baby sister last year.”

They’d heard about it. George, normally gloomy and sighing about his lack of a social life, had actually been excited and chatty leading up to the birth of his sister, just like Anya was now. “We know,” Becky said. “Congratula—”

“Don’t congratulate me!” George screeched, suddenly all up in their faces. Becky yelped and leapt back. “I was just like you. A fool, a clown, prancing around—” Anya took great offense to that. “—telling anyone that would listen that I was gonna be an older sibling. But do you know what being an older sibling entails?”

It was silent for a few seconds before Anya realized George’s question wasn’t rhetorical. “Um, no?”

“You become second place.” The fire that had lit in George suddenly died as he wilted, shoulders slouching. “Suddenly there’s an adorable baby. Who’s gonna pay attention to you when there’s the baby? Tell me, are there things you like to do with your parents?”

“Yeah!” The list was too long to fully recite, but Anya still prattled off, “Having teatime, playing spy, going to the park with Bond, doing picnics, watching Mama beat up bad guys, going in the secret doors in Papa’s office—” 

“Get ready to give all that up,” George interrupted decisively. “Because there won’t be any time for that stuff anymore. It’s either gonna be feeding the baby, or changing the baby’s diaper, or putting the baby to sleep, or playing with the baby. No room for you in there.”

Anya’s jaw slackened in horror. Could it be true? She didn’t want to believe that her life with Mama and Papa would change like that. But… Her heart seized. But I’m adopted. Even Mama knew that fact now, ever since she and Papa had come clean to each other about everything (not that they knew that Anya knew). What if they liked the baby more, since it was actually theirs? What if they decided they didn’t need Anya anymore? Realistically, she knew her Mama and Papa would never do that. But anxiety was rolling through her stomach. They’d already started telling her that with the baby, a lot of big changes would come.

Was one of the changes going to be Anya becoming an outsider? 

“Stop scaring her!” Becky scolded, looping a protective arm through Anya’s. “You’re such a downer, George.” With that barb, she dragged Anya away, muttering all the while about how stupid George didn’t know what he was talking about. “That’s not going to happen to you,” she told Anya, impassioned. “For one, my Loid does not discriminate. He’s not going to act all cold towards you just because there’s another kid. And Master Yor has a heart as open as the wide sea! She’s got enough space for a million kids, let alone just two.”

Even though Becky calling her parents “my Loid” and “Master Yor” still weirded her out, Anya was comforted by her best friend’s reassurance. Becky was right: Papa was the most just, level-headed person in the world. And Mama’s heart was the only thing as big and strong as her muscles. She felt her heart lighten up a little as relief filled her core. Everything was going to be fine. 

Or so she thought, until she reached home later that day.

When she opened the door, she was met with the sight of Franky lounging on the sofa. 

“Scruffy?” Anya asked as her Papa was entering the room. “Why are you here?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” he sniffed. He sounded discontent, although he looked awfully comfortable with a cup of coffee and a plate of snacks spread out before him. He turned to Loid. “How many times do I have to tell you I’m not a babysitter?!”

Loid ignored Franky and turned to Anya. He was pulling on his suit-jacket, the one he wore when going out. “Hey there. How was school?”

“Meh. It was the same as usual. But…” Anya considered asking him about what George had said, but decided against it. It was stupid, and Papa was about to leave anyways. ”Where are you going?”

“I’m picking up Yor from work early so we can go to the hospital,” he explained. “The doctor is going to check up on the baby’s growth.”

“Whoa. Can I come?”

Loud chuckled. “Unfortunately, it’s not exactly a thing you can bring a child to. It’s more between the parents, the doctor and the baby.” Anya felt a sting at that sentence. “Which is why Franky here generously offered to stay with you, as he often does.” Franky scoffed.

“Oh… um…” Anya floundered. “Can you help me with my math homework before dinner?” 

Loid’s eyes widened. “You want to work on math?” When Anya nodded, a proud look crossed his face, one that Anya relished in. But the good feeling quickly dissipated when Loid sighed regretfully. “It might take some time at the hospital. We’re planning to be back by dinner. I’ll help you afterwards if there’s time.”

“Oh.” Anya swallowed dryly. She’d never been disappointed to not do math before. “Okay. Bye, Papa.”

He knelt down to hug her. He’d been doing that more often lately. Will he stop once the baby comes? Anya wondered. “Goodbye Anya,” he said, turning around to pin Franky with a stare. “Make sure you behave yourself.”

“Hey, why does it feel like you’re saying that to me?” 

Loid got up, put his hat on, and departed with one final wave, leaving Anya and Franky in the living room.

“You know, I could help you with math too,” Franky said. “I’m a bit of an engineering genius myself.” Anya must not have done a good job of masking her unimpressed-ness, because Franky sat up straight with an incredibly offended look. “What’s that expression?! I’m offering to help you out here!” 

“Why would I want to do math?” Anya asked. She decided to bum around in her room with Bond until her parents got back and left, leaving a flabbergasted Franky behind. 

A few hours later, Anya heard the front door opening and rushed out of her room. “Mama! Papa! You’re back!” 

“Hello, Anya!” Yor opened her arms and swept Anya into a tight hug. She noticed Franky in the living room and smiled at him. “Hello, Franky. Was everything alright?”

“Hey, Yor. Yeah, everything was fine.” As gruff as Franky was with Loid, he’d taken to being extra nice with Yor ever since he found out about her pregnancy. He said it was because he wasn’t going to risk his neck by invoking her (or Loid’s) wrath, but Anya had read his mind. He was excited about meeting the baby in the future. It was a fact that had made Anya laugh before, but now her stomach twisted uncomfortably. Would even Franky be forgetting about her in lieu of the baby?

“How’s the baby coming along?” Franky asked. 

Yor and Loid exchanged a smile. “The fetus is about seven centimeters long now,” Yor said. “And the heartbeat is going strong.”

“How big is seven centimeters?” Anya asked. Loid thought for a few seconds before gesturing to her hand.

“It’s roughly the size of your fist,” he said. Anya clenched her hand and held it up. The baby was awfully small. 

“Hmm. That’s good.” Franky’s stiff words were offset by the growing grin on his face. “Hey, now is the time to start thinking about names, isn’t it? I propose Franklin Junior. Very distinguished.”

Loid’s lip curled up in disgust while Yor laughed. “What if it’s a girl?”

“Frankette. Frankina. There’s lots of options.” 

“Shouldn’t you get going?” Loid asked. Clearly he wasn’t going to risk the chances of Yor actually liking Franky’s suggestions. “It’s getting late.”

“Wow. You’ll have me over three times a week to babysit but I can’t stay for five minutes on my own?”

“You could join us for dinner,” Yor offered. Franky’s scowl eased into a smile as he turned to her.

“Nah, I was just kidding. Besides, I have got a hot date tonight.” He gathered up his things and patted Anya’s head. “Bye, kid. Enjoy your dinner. And I’m raising my rates for babysitting from here on out!” With that, he slammed the door shut. Loid rolled his eyes. 

“Always a handful,” he grumbled. His face melted into a warm smile as he turned to Yor, though. He’d started doing that even before they had told each other their secrets. “I made roasted vegetables earlier today. Do you think you can eat some of that?”

Yor nodded, resting a hand on her stomach. She was only a little over 3 months along, so her coat still covered the small bump. Papa said the bump would get bigger and bigger until it was the size of a watermelon—Anya couldn’t imagine that. “I think those will be good. My body doesn’t reject them as much, at least.” Yor had been suffering morning sickness for the past few weeks. The doctor said it was normal, but Loid still tried finding foods that would make her as less sick as possible. 

They sat down to eat dinner. They all talked to each other like usual, but Anya could read their minds and tell that they were thinking about the baby, too. 

We could convert the unused bedroom into a nursery, Papa thought. I’ve seen magazines and some parents do themes for the rooms, like nautical, or astronomical. Not to mention, some colors like subtle blues relax the body and mind. Something desaturated and pastel would be best to aid the baby’s comfort and growth to the fullest…

I wonder if we could use Loid’s old bedroom as a nursery, Mama was thinking at the same time. We could do cute decorations for the baby! Like knives… oh, that’s not very child-safe. Some well-contained poisons, then? A couple splashes of red on the wall for color-pop… 

Anya shivered. She didn’t really get it—the baby was hardly the size of a tennis ball right now! She couldn’t even read its mind because it didn’t have any thoughts yet. But Mama and Papa were already thinking about its room, and how they would decorate it, and what names would be good if it was a girl or a boy. 

George was right. Things had been changing under her nose and she hadn’t even noticed. Where did that leave her now? 

“Anya?” She jumped and looked up to see her parents watching her in concern. Yor cocked her head. “Are you alright? You haven’t eaten much.”

“I…” She hesitated. She didn’t want to complain and sound like an immature little kid—after all, she was eight now (technically seven, but that was irrelevant)—and put them off. She would have to ask George what to do at school tomorrow.

“I don’t like carrots,” she said instead, pushing them aside on her plate. 

“You should eat them,” Loid chided. “Carrots are good for you.”

“I think your little sibling may like them, too,” Yor said, a faint note of surprise in her voice as she had another piece. She hummed as if it were gourmet steak. “Oh! That’s good.” Anya wrinkled her nose. Of course the baby liked carrots. 

“Are we looking at a carrot craving?” Loid asked teasingly. “I have to say, it’s better than olives dipped in jam.”

“That was just for a couple days,” Yor said, cheeks stuffed with carrots and reddening. “Don’t bash it till you try it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, leaning his chin on his hands. Anya could detect the sappiness entering their voices (and minds) and quickly shoveled the rest of her potatoes into her mouth. “Mmkay I’ma go now!” 

She had to figure out what to do, and quickly. 

…

The next day at school, Anya spent lunch break looking for George. She didn’t think it would be hard before, but she’d neglected to remember that 1) Eden’s campus was massive, 2) she was tiny and getting around took forever, and 3) George was a recluse, which meant he wasn’t in any of the places she checked first. 

Becky, bless her heart, was accompanying Anya on her search. Anya hadn’t told her why she wanted to meet with George, but after a while Becky frowned. 

“Hey, you aren’t still bothered by what he said yesterday, right?”

Anya froze in the middle of checking underneath a rock. Could Becky read minds too?! “Uhh… nooo?” 

Becky sighed. “I knew his words would bother you. He’s not right, you know.”

“You don’t get it!” Anya burst out. “I didn’t notice before, but the baby is all Mama and Papa think about. We don’t do stuff like before now. I even asked Papa to help me with math—which he loooves when I do—but there wasn’t time for even that! What if they already like the baby more than me?”

“Of course things are going to be different now that there’s a baby. That’s not a bad thing,” Becky soothed. “And they’re not gonna like the baby more. You’re their child, too!”

But I’m adopted. Anya bit her tongue. Nobody else knew that except for their family. Nobody else knew that Anya had been returned four times already because those other parents hadn’t liked her enough. She couldn’t lose this life she had now to the same thing. The very thought of it brought tears to her eyes.

“Oh, Anya!” Becky rushed forward, handkerchief already in hand. “Don’t cry…!”

“Ugh. I’ve seen enough of this,” a far-off voice muttered. The girls turned to see Damian stomping out from behind a pillar, looking incensed, with Ewen and Emile trailing close behind.

“Damian?” Becky was aghast. “Were you stalking us?”

“N-NO!” He yelled. “I just saw you two—running around looking for—and—ARGH!” He facepalmed. “Anyways, I just happened to hear what you guys said.”

“So you were stalking and eavesdropping?!”

“That’s not the point!” Damian snapped. He rounded on Anya, one finger outstretched. “You’re being totally stupid!”

“Wuh?” Anya sniffed. She couldn’t recall doing anything to make Damian this mad at her. At least, not yet. “What’s with you?”

“What’s with me? You’re the one taking George’s words seriously and crying about it!” he retorted. “Everyone knows that guy’s a total drama-queen.” 

“But-but he was right,” Anya said, voice wobbling. “The baby isn’t even born yet and… and Mama and Papa are already way busier than before.”

“Well, duh! If you’re growing a whole human, then things are gonna change for everyone around you.” Well, when he put it like that, Anya couldn’t even argue back. “You don’t even have to do anything for your parents to love you,” he continued. “And you won’t have to do anything special after the baby is born, either. They’ll love you anyways.” He scuffed the ground with his shoe. “That’s just what your parents are like.”  

I’m the youngest kid, and I’m nowhere near the favorite, he thought bitterly. So clearly it’s not a rule for parents to prefer the second kid. 

Anya stalled as she watched Damian. His words were relieving in their truth, sharp-tongued as they were, but his thoughts hurt to hear. All of the things she’d been fearing for the past day were things Damian already went through. She really was lucky. Mama always made sure to give her lots of hugs and she always protected her from bad guys. Papa, even when he didn’t show it, was proud of her for the good things she did. They talked to her and laughed with her and took her places. Her Mama and Papa were nothing like Damian’s parents. 

She wished his weren’t the way they were, either.

“Sy-on boy…” Anya was considering risking her life and giving him a hug (hugs always made her feel better, after all) when they heard approaching footsteps. All of them turned to see George, timely as ever.

“Ah, Anya!” He waved. “I was looking for you.”

“What? Why?” Becky was in front of Anya in a flash, glowering. “Are you gonna put more trash in her head?”

“Yeah, back off,” Damian said, much to Anya’s surprise. But George held his hands up, placating.

“Actually, I came to tell you I changed my mind about the sibling thing.”

Anya was too confused to even read his mind on this one. “...what?”

“You see, there was this action figure I wanted, but my parents got my sister a doll instead,” he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “But they gave it to me today and said it was a surprise. So siblings aren’t really all that bad.”

It was silent. A breeze sent a few leaves twirling by as they all stared at George. Then—united for maybe the first time in all their years at Eden—Anya, Becky, Damian, Emile and Ewen turned around and walked away together. 

“Hey, where are you guys going?” 

“Total drama queen, like I said,” Damian muttered. At this point their lunch break was almost over. Anya felt a little embarrassed for wasting her (and, inadvertently, everyone else’s) time with such a silly problem. Despite that, though, she felt more relieved than she had been in the past 24 hours. Mama and Papa weren’t going to get rid of her. If Damian could see that, it must be really obvious.

It was when Becky got in a heated argument with Emile and Ewen about tanks that Damian, walking kind-of-next-to Anya but a little too distanced for them to be considered walking together, cleared his throat.  

“You should talk to your parents,” he said. “About what you told Becky, I mean. There’s no point in keeping that stuff to yourself.”

Anya tilted her head as she considered him. He was staring at the ground as they walked. She couldn’t figure him out, and his thoughts weren’t clear enough to be of any help. “Why do you care, Sy-on boy?” she asked, out of genuine curiosity rather than as a jab. 

His head snapped up at that. Anya could practically (and literally) hear him pushing down the urge to pick a fight. Instead, he gritted his teeth, then sighed. “It’s what I would do,” he admitted, “if I had the chance. You’re lucky.” 

She knew that she was lucky. Throwing all caution to the wind, Anya crossed the gap between them and wrapped her arms around him in a quick hug.

As far as hugs went, it was pretty awkward. Mostly because he’d gone so rigid that it felt like she was hugging a mannequin. When she pulled back, his face was so red—practically exploding with anger!—that she instantly regretted her actions. Would he put her in jail for touching him? What if she had to spend the rest of her life paying off the debt from touching his rich-person clothes (they all had the same uniform, but still)?! She had to deflect his attention!

“You should come to my house when the baby is born,” she blurted. 

He said nothing. When she peeked into his mind, it was empty. How could it be totally empty? Was this what people meant when they said blind with rage?  

“Pink tanks are equally as functional, if not more!” Becky’s voice, growing in volume, floated over to her. “Who’s gonna look at a pink tank and expect actual damage? It’s a sneak attack in your face. It’s a Trojan horse! I’m not wasting time on this anymore!” She stomped back to Anya and grabbed her wrist. “Come on. It’s a total mistake to think these idiots could actually hold a good opinion,” she huffed. 

Anya heard it when Becky had already dragged her a few paces away from the boys. It was quiet, and could have easily been lost in the surrounding noise, but she heard Damian say it nonetheless.

“Okay.”

…

When Anya got home that day, both Mama and Papa were sitting in the living room. It was a little surprising since she hadn’t seen both of them at the same time this early in the day for a while now. On top of that, it looked like they’d been waiting for her from the way they both got quiet upon her arrival. 

“I’m home?” Her statement came out like a question from her confusion. “Is something happening?” 

“Why don’t you sit down?” Loid said, angling his head towards the sofa. Warily, Anya approached. She wished Bond was in the room so she could take a peek into the future. 

“Uhh…am I in trouble? I swear I didn’t mean to break the green bowl! It was an accident!”

“You’re not in—wait, that was you?” Loid squinted at her. Anya laughed a little too loudly and scrambled onto the sofa. 

“So what’s going on?”

Loid relented and traded a look with Yor. Anya could hear snippets of their thoughts, but couldn’t make any sense of them. Talk to her…recently been feeling…developing…killing anyone who dares harm…efficient communication… It probably didn’t help that their wildly different thoughts were jumbling together. 

“We’ve noticed that you’re a little down recently,” Yor said. “And we were worried about you.” 

Anya felt a pang of guilt at those words. They had worried about her. She almost decided not to tell them what had brought her down because it felt even sillier now, but Damian’s words floated into her head. There’s no point in keeping that stuff to yourself. It’s what I would do if I had the chance. He was right—Anya could bottle it all up and get worried about it again in the future. Or she could confess to her parents and hear what she needed to hear from them. 

“Um… well, the thing is…” Anya felt awkward looking at their faces while confessing possibly the most embarrassing thing she’d done this year, so she fidgeted with her fingers in her lap instead. “See, George at school, he got a baby sister last year. And he told me that once a baby is born the first kid gets forgotten about. He said it becomes about the new baby and there’s no time to do fun stuff with your parents anymore. And I kinda remembered how you were always so busy, even though the baby is, like, only as big as my hand right now.” She was rambling, but was met with silence, so she continued. It was actually a little relieving to spill it all out. “So I got scared… because… I’m adopted and I thought once the baby was born you might not want me anymo—” 

Anya found herself suddenly yanked into a solid, warm embrace. When she reoriented herself, she realized her Mama had wound her arms around her, one hand on the back of her head. Warm drops plipped onto her head and Anya realized that Mama was crying. 

“That will never happen,” she whispered, kissing the top of Anya’s head. “Oh, Anya. Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

Even more embarrassingly, Anya felt a lump in her throat. “Because it’s stupid. And I know you and Papa wouldn’t do that. But I got scared by what George said anyways.”

A third, warm hand smoothed down her hair. Papa was sitting next to them now. “Your feelings aren’t stupid,” he said softly. “I was thinking about how we might not have properly gotten you used to the idea of having a sibling. But you handled everything so maturely.”

Anya didn’t think freaking out at George’s dramatics and crying in front of her friends was very mature, but Papa’s praise made warmth bloom in her chest anyways. “I was?”

“You were excited about your sibling before anything else.” Yor slightly eased her hold on Anya. The girl leaned back to see both of her parents beaming down at her. “Do you know why this baby is going to be an extremely lucky child?”

“Because they’ll have you and Mama for parents,” she replied, remembering Damian’s words again. You’re lucky. 

“And you as a big sister. You’re going to be an exemplary role model, Anya.”

“...I am?” Anya blinked. “Even with my grades… and my bolts?”

“Yes. Because those things don’t make a person.” Papa poked her chest. “You have a big heart, Anya. You do what’s right and you care about the right things, too. I believe the baby will flourish under your guidance.” 

“We’ll always love you, Anya,” Yor added. “No matter what. And your little sibling will, too.” 

Anya felt like her heart would overflow. Her Mama and Papa couldn’t undo all the times she’d been returned, but for the first time Anya was grateful that she hadn’t stayed with the Levskis, the Williams, the Roches, or anyone else. 

Because then she would have never been a Forger. 

“I’ll tell you everything from now on,” she promised, voice muffled by Yor’s sweater. “I promise.”

“Good.” They stayed like that for a while, the three of them wrapped up, and at some point Bond woke up from his nap in the other room and came over to join them. 

Anya got a fuzzy glimpse of the future from the dog. It looked like she, Mama and Papa were out shopping somewhere, pushing a shopping cart. They were looking at different baby toys. 

Anya was excited. She’d make sure to pick out the best toy for the baby. 

[auroracalisto]

down for the ride

eddie munson x gn!reader, 801 words tw: mention of drinking/alcohol, drugs, anxiety a/n: i started this literally months ago. when the last season came out. what. maybe i need serious psychological help. jk. maybe.

The party made you uneasy.

Not the music, not the booze, not the drugs. Hell, you hardly touched anything despite the amount spread all over the house.

It was the people that made you uneasy.

Lots of skin and shouting came from every direction as they attempted to have a decent conversation over the booming music—uncomfortably touchy people as you pushed past them.

You just weren’t cut out for this. Parties weren't your thing. You told Melanie multiple times! But no. No, she didn't listen.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your head was fuzzy as you attempted to find your friends.

Had they ditched you?

Maybe. They might have. But could you blame them?This party had been the buzz of the school for months. End of the year, soon-to-be graduates lining up and hoping to have as much fun as possible before the workforce or college life took them by a chokehold.

You shouldn’t have come. You should have told Melanie you couldn’t come—that you had something to do, that you needed to get things finished before graduation. But the look on her face had melted your worried heart. And now, you could have smacked her.

You found the pool far sooner than you had anticipated. People were out here, spread about, but not like it had been inside.

The weight of almost everything lifted off your shoulders… for now.

You sat on one of the sun chairs, burying your face in your hands as you tried to catch your breath.

Out here, you felt like you could breathe.

Out here, you felt as if nothing could bother you; as if you were all alone to the world—

"Y/n?"

You froze, slowly turning to see the man who said your name—Eddie Munson.

What was he doing here? Why was he here, seeing you this way?

The party.

Right.

"You okay?" he asked, raising his hands in mock defense as he took a step closer. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

You sucked in a deep breath, looking down at your hands.

"I want to go home," you said.

His eyes softened. He glanced over at the house, knowing he had to supply. But he already had his money, and these kids wouldn't realize they were out for some time.

"You need a ride?"

Eddie stood there, as awkward as ever, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No! No, I’m fine.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “You sure? I was just about to head out, and I know you live not too far from me, so…” He kicked a pebble on the concrete, sending it straight into the pool. He watched the little rock begin to sink before he spoke again. “It wouldn’t be a problem.”

You sniffled softly, tilting your head back as you debated—you could go with him, get home and get into bed. Or, you could stay here and wait for your drunk friends to realize that you’re sober and ready to go. The first choice sounded better. Plus, if she is concerned, she could call in the morning.

You sighed, placing your hands on your knees as you pushed yourself to your feet.

“You really don’t mind?”

“Not at all, Y/n,” he said. He often called you by your last name, or some silly nickname, but tonight, he didn’t think it was right.

He walked over to you and swung an arm around your shoulders, grinning.

“Let’s blow this popsicle stand,” he said, ring-clad finger poking your cheek.

You rolled your eyes, unable to keep your smile from showing.

“There they are! We love to see it,” he teased, keeping you close and guiding you through the drunk and high teenagers.

One thing is for certain—he’s almost glad you wanted to leave so early. After a while, these parties are exactly the same; boring.

He helped you to his van, opening the door for you like the dramatic gentleman he was. But instead of getting in immediately like you should have, you reached forward and pulled the lanky man into a hug. You rested your face on his jean jacket.

Hell, you didn’t even know if he liked hugs. But right now, you didn’t care. Right now, you knew he was helping you and the little crush you most definitely did not have on him was screaming at you to thank him somehow. Hugs seemed like a safe option.

A dark blush rose to his cheeks as he hesitantly hugged you back. He cleared his throat, eyes looking anywhere but you.

“Yeah, yeah. Get in the van,” he said, gently tapping your back but not forcing you away.

You looked up at him, awkwardly rubbing your cheek with the palm of your hand as you pulled away. You were grateful.

“Thank you, Eddie.”

“Don’t mention it, babe.”

[apersonwholikeslotus]

Now that the anthology is out I present my piece for it. I put the first part under the cut but the rest is on ao3 because of length. Despite this technically supposed to be about Germany I think the parts I'm most proud of are Liechtenstein's <3

warnings: none

ao3 link here!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1832; Vienna

The day was unusually warm, especially for October. The children were playing just outside the gate, chasing each other around with seemingly no more purpose than a dog chasing its tail. The parents sat inside the gate, talking, only turning their heads when there was a particularly loud yelp from one of the children. Gilbert and Ludwig had arrived in Vienna a few days prior, but the trip had not been an easy one, so only three days later were they having their first full day together. 

“How are things in Frankfurt?” Roderich had shed his usual overcoat, due to both the heat, and the close company not requiring normal formalities. 

Gilbert laughed, “Maybe if you went to Frankfurt you would know” 

“Why would I go to Frankfurt when you can do it for me?” 

“Because I don’t go to Frankfurt either. Berlin or Königsberg” 

Erzsébet rolled her eyes, she had listened to them bicker for hundreds of years. It was a normal routine, not one she enjoyed the more it happened. There had been a few years of peace, not having to listen to them. But since the split custody of Ludwig had started, they had been seeing more and more of Gilbert. 

“How about we don’t talk about politics for once?” she suggested to both men. Her eyesight wandered away for a moment just to see Liesl finally catch her younger cousin, both children toppling to the ground. She laughed lightly, watching as they both got up and ran off farther as if nothing had happened. 

“We’re not talking politics” both men remained absolutely oblivious to the scene that had made Erzsébet laugh. “We’re discussing the good of the confederation” 

“Exactly!” Gilbert raised his nose in indignation, “And even if what would you rather we talk about? Housework?” Erzsébet hummed, “We could talk about why you’re here instead of returning to Berlin” 

“Why?” Gilbert changed his tone, “Want me out so you and your husband can be alone?” 

Roderich rolled his eyes, “We’re not married, I remind you, Gilbert” 

“You act it,” he shrugged, “And that’s close enough. House in the countryside, two kids, enough money from the government to live comfortably. I’d say you two could play family for at least the next century” 

Erzsébet’s eyes darted to the field, making sure Liesl and Ludwig weren’t close enough to hear. She sat up a little straighter out of habit, “We only have a daughter. Gilbert.” 

The whole group shifted uncomfortable with the topic being brought up. Ludwig’s split custody by all means should have never happened. 

Gilbert held the newborn in his arms. It felt odd, he hadn’t held a baby since Liesl was born almost a century earlier. Erzsébet had followed him to the door, repeating everything she had already told him ten times; she was worried he didn’t know how to take care of a baby. Truthfully he didn’t. He had to remind himself this hadn’t been his idea; Roderich and Erzsébet had come to him. 

The baby cried with every bump in the road. It made Gilbert less sure of himself every time it took him even a little too long to calm him. His nephew should be with his parents, not with him. Infants shouldn’t be taken on long trips like this either, it was a bad idea, he could get sick so easily. Erzí would kill him if her baby died within a couple weeks of Gilbert having him. He didn’t know what to do. All he could think was hold the newborn close, and talk to him. Things would be okay, he would see his mother and father before he knew it. Gilbert would happily be uncle Gil instead of papa; they just needed a few years to get things sorted. Yes. They were just getting things sorted. 

Split custody was good though, three months with Roderich, three months with Gilbert, then switch. Ludwig really didn’t move that much, and they usually spent holidays and most summers together anyway. Ludwig was only seven, he wouldn’t have had a second thought about being referred to as one of his aunt and uncle's children. Erzsébet was overly cautious though, always thinking someone could be listening from around the corner. Roderich didn’t seem as bothered by it, the silence wasn’t worth what had happened. 

Roderich promised himself it would only be a few years, once Napoleon lost power. Once France was banging down his door. He would have Ludwig back soon enough, and everything would be as it was supposed to. Until then they were to go about business as usual; no one knew of Erzsébet’s pregnancy, at least no one outside of the house, and Gilbert had sworn even now to keep Ludwig’s existence on the downlow. At least until things calmed down. 

Liesl had been asking questions though, Roderich and Erzsébet had assumed her old enough to understand the first time around what was happening. 

“Your baby brother is going to live with your onkel Gil, just for a little while, and then he’ll be back” Roderich knew he was lying to himself just as much as he was lying to her when he said it.

Napoleon couldn’t stay in power forever though, and the confederation of the Rhine wouldn’t be permanent. For a short time Roderich convinced himself Ludwig would be returned to them with the German Confederation; instead he was introduced to the split custody with Gilbert. Saying he was disappointed would be understating it, Erzsébet claimed to understand it, reminding Roderich seeing him for six months out of the year was better than not at all. 

1815, the first assembly of the German confederation. Erzsébet argued wanting to be there to ‘represent her people within the Austrian Empire” which was part of the confederation. She had more than one man scoff at her over it, but she was attending. Yes, for her people, but also for… 

“Gilbert said he would be here” She complained to Roderich, she only saw German states, too many of them. The only child in her line of vision being Luxembourg, who Gilbert was far too interested in. Ludwig was supposed to be here, where was her Ludwig? Nine years since she had seen her second child, and if he wasn’t here today as Gilbert had promised she was ready to knock heads. She sighed, turning away from Roderich, who had been hovering next to her the whole time. Her breath caught in her throat, Gilbert had just entered the room after disappearing for a few minutes. He had a boy in his arms, no older than four, he made eye contact with Erzsébet. Every noise in the room seemed to dull as Gilbert said something to the boy and he looked in her direction; she saw her son for the first time in nine years.

“Papa!” The conversation was stopped abruptly as Ludwig came running back in the gate, his hands cupped around something. He stopped in front of his father, a big smile on his face, “Guess what Lise and I found!” 

Gilbert's entire demeanor changed, adopting the same excited tone as his seven year old son; “What did you and Lise find?” 

Liesl appeared just at that moment, sitting down in an empty chair between her parents. The fifteen year old girl trying to catch her breath, after chasing Ludwig around and then following him all the way back to the garden. Roderich couldn’t help but note she had gotten mud on the bottom of her skirt; she must have fallen at some point. 

Ludwig opened his hands just a little to show his father, who promptly made a face; “Show your aunt” Gilbert told Ludwig, Erzsébet was wary for a moment. It wasn’t often her not-technically-brother-in-law had kind things in mind for her. 

Ludwig half-ran the short distance, bouncing as he stood in front of her, “Do you want to hold it?” 

“Mmm” Erzsébet hummed a bit, she wasn’t scared of much when it came to insects, small snakes, amphibians, or really anything else Ludwig would be able to find right outside the garden gate. If it disgusted Gilbert though she really wasn’t sure if she wanted to know, he wasn’t put off by much either. 

“Don’t worry mama,” Liesl tucked her legs under her, much to her fathers disgust thinking about the mud getting on her underclothes as well; Erzsébet couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the mumbling. It’s not as if he did the laundry. “It’s nothing that will hurt you, Onkel Gilbert is just being a baby.” 

Gilbert feigned offense, even though everyone there knew Liesl and her uncle had been poking fun at each other for decades. Most said Liesl picked it up from her father. 

Erzí looked back to her nephew, who was still bouncing, eagerly waiting for her answer; “Okay fine, let me see it” 

She held her hands out and immediately had a small frog given to her. Erzsébet tried not to laugh, cupping one hand over the other to keep it from hopping away; “Hundreds of years on battlefields and you're disgusted by a grass frog?” 

“They’re slimy!” Gilbert argued, shaking his head as if the mere image of the frog disgusted him. Roderich rolled his eyes, he had no interest in holding the frog, but even he wasn’t so disgusted by such simple things. 

Erzsébet got out of her seat, setting the frog under a bush not far away, and watching it hop off. She noted the sun starting to disappear under the horizon. “I think it should be dinner time soon, what do you all think?” 

“Absolutely!” Gilbert stretched a little, wrapping his arm around Ludwig to doubly make sure the boy wouldn't slip off. “I’m starving, I could eat a horse” 

“I’m hungry too.” Ludwig followed his father. “I could eat two horses” 

“You know Ludwig, after dinner you have to go to bed” 

The small boy went quiet very quickly, before taking back his statement “I’m not hungry anymore.” 

A small chuckle came from all the adults, Erzsébet shrugged. “Then I suppose you can just watch while we all eat the goulash that’s simmering on the stove right now” 

Ludwig backpedaled once again, “No. I am hungry.” 

“Still so hungry you could eat two horses?” Erzsébet inquired. 

“Two and a half horses!”  

[theoddcatlady]

We Killed Bobby Tanner

It was me, Jessie Bates, Hunter Gilch, and Gabrielle Edison. We are the reason that Bobby Tanner never returned home that Friday night ten years ago, why every year his parents send out a plea asking for their son to come home. It was us. The senior class rejects.

Jessie was a bit slow and would believe anything you told him. You could tell this boy over a dozen times that ‘gullible’ was written on the ceiling and he’d believe you each of those times.

Gabrielle was pretty popular until her sophomore year when she got gonorrhea after having sex with her cheating shitbag of a boyfriend who didn’t know how to put on a condom. He, of course, blamed her for giving it to him and it didn’t matter what the truth was after that- Gabrielle was labeled a dirty slut and became a social outcast.

Hunter was just… off. Jessie followed him around like a lost puppy, but Hunter was that kid everyone was sure was either going to one day shoot up the school or become a prolific serial killer. Casual conversations would quickly turn sadistic as he’d brag about catching squirrels and birds in traps before killing them and cutting them up. He was the leader of our lil group, probably because the rest of us didn’t have a backbone.

Me, you can pick a reason why I was picked on- I’m fat, I had a serious acne problem, I’m socially awkward and a crybaby. I was an easy target because I’d start to cry when the words got too much and that was exactly what the bullies wanted.

Bobby was one of those bullies. He was everything we weren’t- he had money, he was good looking, he thought he was pretty smart, and he was funny… at least, if you weren’t the butt end of his jokes. We usually were. The only one he didn’t really pick on was Hunter, at least, not if he didn’t have a pack of friends around him. Hunter scared him, and probably for a good reason.

It was Hunter’s idea to kill him, after all.

It was after school, we were all at Hunter’s house. His parents were never home and it was a safe place to chill. I’d just finished throwing the pizza rolls in the microwave when he came out with it.

“What’s your perfect plan to kill someone?” Hunter said, interrupting Gabrielle’s rant about our stupid English teacher Mr. Shea.

Jessie laughed while Gabrielle rolled her eyes. “Really? I don’t have one, Hunter. Because I’m not a sociopath.”

“Come on, it’s all hypothetical,” Hunter waved his hand, “Just go with it. What’s your go to plan?”

Jessie stroked his chin, which had a few scraggly hairs on it that he proudly called his ‘beard’. “Huh… I mean, I guess I’d kill them with my dad’s shotgun so he goes down for the murder? Fuck my dad,” He said.

Hunter snickered while I took a seat on the couch arm and pondered this hypothetical question. “I mean, I’d probably go for making it look like an accident. Like they fell off a cliff or a building, or the brakes in their car just gave out,” I answered.

Hunter looked genuinely impressed. “That’s actually not half bad! Come on, Gabrielle, what do you think?” He asked.

Gabrielle scoffed before she started twirling her hair- she always did that when she was thinking on something. “Oh my god, fine… I think I’d just poison the bastard? I’m not really strong, I mean, neither is Noelle, but here she is threatening to throw people off of buildings,” She elbowed my ribs teasingly.

“It’s a hypothetical question!” I threw my hands up in the air before looking down at Hunter. “Since you asked, I’m sure you already have an answer.”

“Lure them out to the woods before slicing open their throat so I can shower in their blood,” Hunter grinned menacingly and I had to suppress a shudder.

“That’s fucking gross… and would leave so much evidence, you idiot,” Gabrielle shook her head, “Actual sociopath, Hunter Gilch.”

We all laughed until Hunter brought up the next question. “Okay, who would you murder then? Say you could murder anyone and know you could get away with it. Name your picks,” He said as he crossed his arms.

I shifted uncomfortably while Gabrielle shook her head. “Too much, Hunter, too much,” She said.

“Who would you murder?” Jessie piped up with.

Hunter opened his mouth to respond when I heard the microwave beep. “Natural segue, it’s pizza rolls time!” I leaped up from the couch arm and ran into the kitchen. I did hear Hunter say he had a few possibles, but my return with the delicious snack had us completely forget about murder.

Almost.

The next week the cruelest prank was played on me. I got to my locker to see a present from a secret admirer, a box of chocolates with a sweet love letter. I was so overjoyed and I ended up enjoying two or three chocolates before class.

Chocolates that Bobby had laced with laxatives.

Just as the teacher was about to hand out the assignments, my stomach made that oh so uncomfortable gurgling sound and I had to bolt for the bathroom. I… didn’t make it. And I'd been wearing a skirt that day.

Liquid shit dripped down my legs as I scrambled for the bathroom, only to hear the cruelest laughter behind me. I looked, I saw Bobby, I saw his friends taking pictures with their phones, and I realized what happened.

I considered killing myself that night. The whole school knew what had happened. One of Bobby’s friends had texted him to let him know it was going down and that’s how he knew, and the incriminating pictures of me waddling down the hallway with a brown trail behind me spread like wildfire. I’d never live this down.

I’d already decided that I’d take all my mother’s sleeping pills and wash it down with a bottle of vodka when I heard my doorbell frantically ringing.

My mom was out so I ended up dragging myself to the door. When I opened it, there he was- Hunter. It had been raining out and he was soaking wet, gasping for breath as he leaned against the doorframe.

“Bobby. That’s who I’d fucking murder. Bobby fucking Tanner.”

I burst into tears and collapsed in Hunter’s arms.

That’s when we seriously began to plan to murder Bobby.

Jessie took no effort to convince, although I’m not sure he knew we were serious until the night it happened. Gabrielle was on the fence, but after she heard people laughing about ‘Shitstain Noelle’, she agreed to help as long as she wasn’t doing the actual killing part.

We all had a part to play. Gabrielle was the bait. Hunter and Jessie were the muscle. And I was the clean up crew.

I remember going to Jessie’s father’s home improvement shop to pick out the weapons. Jessie might’ve been dumb as a box of rocks when it came to things like school and common sense, but he knew tools. He chattered my ear off about how this certain brand of hammer was known to have its head come flying off if you used it too roughly and how this other brand was hardy and good for long term use.

Hunter picked one of those hammers and tossed it in the air. I never saw him smile quite so genuinely as he added it to the basket.

It was much more fun to actually plan the murder than commit it, at least for me. Each of us did get our own hammer, Jessie jokingly called us the hammer bros and Hunter laughed until he cried.

Gabrielle was probably the best damn bait. She made sure to approach Bobby when he was alone and actually let the bastard feel her up before saying if he wanted more, he should come with her after school. I was her back up, watching from around the corner just in case he got too much. I saw how he ogled her, he was entranced. Sure she was a slut, but she was still hot, and Bobby was still a teenage boy.

She had him drive them to the woods near Jessie’s place. We were all in position. The car pulled up and Bobby was far too focused on making out with Gabrielle to notice Hunter storming up to the car. By the time Hunter ripped the door open, it was too late for Bobby to get away.

The plan didn’t feel real until Hunter cracked the hammer against Bobby’s mouth.

Bobby screamed as Hunter dragged him out, bringing the hammer down again and again on his head. Jessie joined in and began smashing him wherever he could, but Hunter did most of the work. Jessie was more timid, he didn’t have it in him to really kill someone else.

Hunter did though. Bobby screamed and begged for him to stop. I don’t think he ever threw a punch back, he didn’t have a chance.

When he finally ceased crying and struggling, his face was a swollen, bloody mess. You couldn’t tell who he used to be. I think Hunter would’ve continued beating him if Jessie didn’t tell him it was enough. Bobby was dead.

The next part of the plan was performed mechanically. Hunter and Jessie took Bobby’s car to a deeper part of the woods where it was dismantled. Gabrielle went home. And I took care of the body, throwing it in the nearby river, tied with rocks, where it’ll never be seen again.

They sent search parties. People were dragged in for questioning. Even Hunter was, but we each other’s alibi- we were at Hunter’s house all night and he didn’t go anywhere. Probably the best stroke of luck was that Bobby didn’t tell anyone he was going out with Gabrielle. He was probably going to save the bragging for later.

People completely forgot about ‘Shitstain Noelle’ now that Bobby just up and disappeared. People talked about how he was such a good kid with such a promising future. Some rumors sprouted up about how all the pressure from his parents just made him crack and he took off to live in Florida or some shit. Other people still continued to point the finger at Hunter, saying we were just covering for him. Never really thought we participated though.

But I lied.

Bobby Tanner wasn’t dead when I took him to the river.

It came as a shock to me when I went to lift his body out of the bed of Jessie’s truck and he groaned. I nearly screamed. Somehow after being pulverized, Bobby was still alive.

I had a choice. If I dumped him in the water, he’d drown. No question about it. It was up to me now to finish the job.

Or maybe I couldn’t. Maybe when faced with the choice at the end, I just couldn’t.

Bobby was stashed under my bed. Every day when I came home from school, I expected to find him dead, but somehow he’d kept clinging onto life. I took care of him best I could with what supplies I could pick up over the counter, I fed him food turned into paste, and I’d clean up after him.

He wasn’t really… Bobby anymore. Even when his face healed, it was all crooked and puffy. I think sometime during the beating Hunter knocked one of his eyes out, because it was just gone, I don’t know what happened to it. I had to teach him how to go to the bathroom, how to eat by himself. I asked him if he remembered who I was, if he remembered Noelle.

All I got was a blank stare.

Bobby went with me to my new place when I moved out of my mother’s house. I taught him how to be quiet and stay still in the trunk I’d keep him in. During the day he knew to hide under the bed, when I got home from work he’d always give me a hug before lying down on the couch. He knew not to be seen, he listened to whatever I said. It was like having a son.

I never told the others. After the murder we just… grew apart. Things weren’t the same. Hunter was more manic and morbid than ever, Jessie became quiet and threw himself into work at his father’s shop, and Gabrielle…

Gabrielle couldn’t live with what we did. She hung herself about three months after our group murder. It was too much for her. I wish I told her at least that we didn’t kill Bobby. It’s probably the only reason the guilt hasn’t consumed me either.

But maybe I shouldn’t have kept him alive, either.

Like I said, it’s been ten years. Bobby’s made leaps and strides in taking care of himself, he can even heat up leftovers in the microwave. For the longest time, he was a blank slate. I was his Noelle, the woman taking care of him. His only friend. The world outside was a bad place, was the reason he lost himself.

Last week I left out some old things while doing some spring cleaning. Most importantly, I left out a book of pictures. I came back home to see Bobby staring at a picture of my friends. I asked him what he was doing and he just shrugged and I thought that was that. He didn’t have his memories, after all.

Well that picture knocked something loose. I came home today to find Bobby was gone, with that picture torn up in little shreds. Sometime that afternoon someone broke into the home improvement store that Jessie still worked at and beat him to death with one of the hammers.

I’m trying to get in contact with Hunter now, I know he still lives in the state but we haven’t spoken in years.

I just hope I’m not too late.

[dmwrites]

“Joe, we need money.”

Joe, who had been trying to relax in a corner, watched Cleo rummage through their chests with a tired look.

“Cleo, this is my house. My things. You need diamonds, not me. I only need the company of my friends and a couple of good forms of media. Diamonds have little to no use to me.”

Cleo sighed. “Well, Joe, some of us want to be material girls and buy pretty things.”

“And you’d be a fool to ever mistake me as an ATM.” Joe replied. “Why don’t you just go ask some other hermits.” They leaned back against the wall, closing their eyes. “Go rob them or something, I don’t know.”

“Are you assuming that because I often speak violently and will fight if provoked, that I would steal?” Cleo, offended, put a hand to her chest as if she was stabbed. She considered her words for a moment. “Well, hold on now, you actually might be on to something for once. Thanks Joe!” Cleo ran off.

“No problem. Be gay and do crimes or whatever the kids say these days.” Joe said, falling asleep right after that.

The way to get what you want is to dress appropriately for the occasion, a lesson Cleo had learned from Scar. So she dressed in a no-nonsense suit, and held a clipboard. She was ready to get her diamonds, in the best possible way she could think of.

Cleo kicked in the front door of GigaPies. “What’s up, motherfuckers? I’m CleOSHA, and I’m here to do an inspection on your asses.”

Ren and Cub jumped up from the pie bar, startled.

“Oh, my, Cleo, I mean, I think my behind would get an excellent rating, but you’re clearly the expert here, girl!” Ren turned around and bent over.

“Ren! No! For goodness sakes, I mean I’m here to inspect your working conditions, your food! I’m OSHA! CleOSHA!” Cleo blocked Ren’s booty with her clipboard.

“Oh.” Ren sounded kind of disappointed. “Wait, inspecting this place? This pie place was dreamed up by my grandma on the back of a cocktail napkin- there’s nothing wrong with it!”

“What exactly would you be inspecting?” Cub asked, crossing his arms.

“Oh, you know, stuff like kitchen cleanliness, working conditions for the employees, checking for gas leaks… the usual.” Cleo had no idea what she was talking about, and really hoped they didn’t know either.

“Oh.” Ren sounded nervous now. “Well, there isn’t a single problem here, I can assure you. But, let’s assume there was… something. What would happen? Hypothetically.”

“I’d shut down your pie place, that’s what I’d do.” Cleo scribbled importantly on her paper- she wasn’t actually writing anything though.

“Oh, right, naturally.” Ren sounded very nervous now. “Well, there’s nothing wrong here, not a single thing! And you know this, because, well…” Ren coughed and slid half a stack of diamond blocks onto Cleo’s clipboard.

Cleo blinked at the shiny squares, then smirked. “Oh yes, I see now. This place is safe and spotless. Have a nice day, you two.” She pocketed the diamonds.

“Sure think, Cleo baby! Come back any time when you’re off the clock! And hey! I bet those filthy elves could use a little looksee.” Ren called to her.

Cleo smiled evilly. She hasn’t thought of that. She had just been content to take her diamonds and leave.

“Thanks for the heads up.”

The door to the elven cookie factory was, unfortunately, already open, so Cleo just strolled in.

“Hey Cleo.” Cub looked up from his computer at the front desk.

“Hey Cub. I- wait a second, weren’t you just-” Cleo looked back at GigaPies, then at Cub.

“Don’t think about it.” Cub cut her off.

“…Okay then. Uh, Cub, I’m here for-”

“Wait, it funnier when you’re cursing and full of badass girlboss scammer energy. Let me get Scar so he can witness this.” Cub trotted off to the back room, and she heard him talking to a cartoonishly loud man. Said man came rolling out, a huge smile firmly hoisted onto his face.

“ZombieCleo, my undead friend. That suit is quite striking on you, I must say. Now, what can I do for you?”

“I’m fucking CleOSHA, and I’m here to inspect your cookie factory for health and safety violations.” Cleo said, holding her clipboard tight.

“Oh, why of course!” Scar said airily. “Please, let me give you a tour!”

The place was awful. There were melted puddles of chocolate all over the floor, bugs on the cooking cookies, worker elves vanishing or turning into zombies right in front of their eyes. Scar showed all of this and more, smiling and oblivious all the way. Cleo made a mental note to never buy one of Scar’s cookies.

They ended the tour back in the main room, where Cub was still working on his computer.

“So, CleOSHA, how did I do?” Scar smoothed his robes in a self-congratulatory way.

“You fail inspection.” Cleo said.

The pleasant businessman’s smile dropped from Scar’s face at once.

“Would it pass if I was to offer you, say, a stack of diamond blocks?” Scar sounded a lot less friendly all of a sudden. Cleo cackled internally.

“Oh, I see. That does certainly change things… I think that would work wonderfully, thanks.” Cleo held out her hand, and Scar counted out sixty-four cold blocks of diamonds right into her palm. “Great doing business with you, Scar.”

“You as well, Cleo. Come back for a free Elven Surprise cookie any time you’d like.” Scar and Cub waved her off. Cleo made a note to never eat any food offered by any of the food vendors ever again, and strolled back to her place with her pockets heavy with diamonds.

[mystical-flute]

Fleeting Lullaby: Swanfire Week Day 1

Also on AO3

Prompt: Emma and Neal playing on the swings at a small playground that nobody goes to anymore.

Summary: Neal is acting strange. Emma is determined to find out why.

Crestview Park was perhaps the saddest excuse for a park Emma had ever seen. One of the slides was ripped from the playscape it had once been attached to, a worrying gap separating the two. The climbing structures were missing a few rungs on each one, and the coils on the spring toys for younger children were rusted from lack of care.

Even the picnic wooden picnic tables were splinter traps, parts of the wood so sharp they looked like the splinters could penetrate even her heavy jacket.

The worst part of the park was the litter. Not just litter from food, but she could see cigarette butts among other things used for drugs. It was no wonder no one was here, and, frankly, she was very confused as to why Neal would want to bring her here. Even though they weren’t exactly rolling in money, they had been trying to stay away from the sketchy areas of town.

He’d been acting strange anyway, since he’d told her about his wanted poster and how he had to leave. She, of course, had refused to leave him behind, and they had a plan to get the watches, even if he had taken some convincing to let her go with him.

So what was the big deal?

He led her to the one part of the park that didn’t look like it would blow over at a small gust of wind - the swings, and took a seat on one. She followed, a cup of hot chocolate in her hands.

“So… do you want to tell me why you’re so freaked out about this last heist?” she asked with a frown. “You’re scaring me, Neal.”

He heaved out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m just - are you really, really sure you want to do this? Steal the watches and go on the run with me?”

“Of course I’m sure, Neal. All I want is you, and our future together if we can fence those watches.” She had a bunch of fantasies in her head about what they’d do with the money, despite her mind telling her not to get her hopes up, and she was starting to think this was why she never should have in the first place.

Neal nodded slowly. “Okay, okay. That’s what I want too, I swear. I just… got confronted with my past and I felt a little overwhelmed.”

“The wanted poster, I know. I said I was fine coming with you for a reason.”

“I don’t mean that, Emma. Last night while you were looking at a map of the station, someone who knows my dad found me.”

His dad? Oh, that was another matter entirely. Neal didn’t talk about his dad much, but Emma did know that he was apparently an awful human being who Neal felt the need to run away from when he was only thirteen, so the fact that someone his dad knew had found Neal… well, it concerned her, to say the least.

“I see. What did he tell you?”

Neal looked like he was struggling to figure out what he was going to say as he rocked forward and back on the swing. “He… said that my father is in need of help. That there is someone very bad after him and only I can save him, or something.”

Emma blinked in confusion, then began to laugh, also beginning to swing. “You’re kidding, right? Why would you want to help your dad after he forced you to run away from home?”

He pulled a face. “I don’t know. He probably made a bad deal with someone.” The words were bitter, holding a much deeper meaning than Emma could understand, and she frowned a little

“I guess that means you don’t want anything to do with him, right? So you’re not going to go help him.” It would be stupid of him to do so, wouldn’t it? His dad was a terrible person…

“I don’t know,” Neal said. “It’s like I said before… once you find a place that feels like home, you miss it. If my dad is in trouble, I want to help.”

She couldn’t say she understood his reasoning at all, given what she had heard about him, but she loved Neal, so she nodded. “Okay, then we’ll go together and help him.”

“What? Emma, are you sure?” he questioned, his eyes wide.

“I didn’t leave when I found out you stole those watches and you had a wanted poster. I’m not leaving you because your dad is an asshole. Besides, you might need help, and how else are you going to show him that you’re better without him?”

Neal tilted his head back and laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. Alright, if you’re sure. After we fence the watches in Canada, we’ll go to Storybrooke together.”

Emma hummed as they stood up. “Well, it’s not Tallahassee, but at least I’ll be with you.”

[hargrove-mayfields]

Disabled Billy and Steve Week

Day 6- Relationships

My prompt- Carol and Steve: Friends to the End

-•-•-•-

It’s a Wednesday, which means Steve and Carol are having one of their weekly get-togethers.

This time, they’ve decided not to go out or do anything fancy, opting to just lay in Carol's room in a fort they made of every pillow, blanket, and stuffie they could find. They’re both in fuzzy pajamas, wearing skin care masks and gossiping like they’re still fourteen.

Carol surprises Steve by talking about themselves instead of somebody else for once, “Do you remember being little, and promising to get married if we weren’t already with somebody by the time we were fifteen?”

As if that would ever happen. Carol Maryanne Perkins is his best friend for life. Sure, a platonic marriage was possible, but Steve didn’t think two disabled people getting married for friendship would result in the best outcome. Leave it up to the shitty money stealing government to ruin a perfectly good thing.

Steve scrunches his nose up, trying to show in his face how he feels about the old idea.

Carol gets it, even when Steve doesn’t feel ready to use words. She laughs and rolls her eyes, “I know, right? We thought fifteen was like, totally grown up.”

It is actually kind of funny, that they’ve known each other for that long, since they were in diapers really, and have so many silly bets like that running. Steve smiles and holds her hand, now that her purple nail polish is dry and the action won’t make them both sticky and miserable.

Carol isn’t usually the type to dwell in the past, but she lingers on the subject of their childish view of love, “And now I’d be the bride, and you’d be the groom.”

It’s true, and Steve finds it somewhat amusing as well. Nobody expected there to be two trans kids in the middle of Hawkins fucking Indiana, and especially not for them to be popular best friends. Mixing up the narrative is what they do.

But Steve doesn’t get what Carol needs. He’s not the greatest at social cues and things, but he can tell there’s a reason Carol is being so reflective. He furrows his eyebrows and tips his head to one side, signaling his growing confusion.

Out of nowhere, Carol rips off the bandaid, and Steve’s heart with it, “I know you like Tommy, Stevie. I see it when you’re around him.”

Instant panic. Being in love with your best friend's fiancé is a big no. Ever since this dumb crush started, Steve has been terrified of Carol finding out and breaking off their years of friendship. All for one really funny, super sweet, freckle faced cutie.

Thankfully, Carol doesn’t react in the millions of horrible ways that Steve has imagined. She actually seems happy, “Hey, before you freak out, I’m open to sharing. I just want you to know right away I don’t feel that way about you. You’re my best friend, and that’s all.”

Steve nods happily. There’s no way he’d ever feel anything romantic for Carol. Their bond just isn’t like that. This friendship was written in the stars, as exactly that, just a friendship.

He makes a little scratching out motion with his hand, to show Carol he is not interested in that.

“Oh, right! You only like guys! Duh, why was I even nervous?” Carol laughs nervously, and Steve can detect the hint of annoyed sarcasm.

It’s not at him, it’s at herself; Carol thought Steve might still see her as a boy.

Steve feels sad for her, and opens his arms up for a hug. Touch isn’t his thing, it makes him uncomfortable usually, but he understands that kind of pain and wants to soothe it in his best friend.

Carol smiles softly, and clarifies before jumping into anything, “Are you sure, sweetie?”

Steve just nods and makes a grabby hand motion, inviting her into his arms.

“Alright, here goes nothing.” Carol declares, leaning forward and wrapping her arms around Steve, giggling when he taps and pats her shoulders, happy stimming all over the place.

Not that Steve really knows an appropriate amount of time to hug for, but he knows this one lasts a long time, and that fills his heart up with happiness.

He feels ready to speak to tell her, “I love you, CeCe.”

“And I love you Stevie.” Carol replies back, automatic but genuine.

“Let’s never ever stop being friends. Ever.” Steve hums, fiddling with his soft sleeves, an anxious stim.

He knows Carol will be by his side, but sometimes he needs to hear it repeated, when his rsd flares up and he gets bad thoughts in his head.

Carol gets rsd too, and paranoia, which used to lead to some explosive arguments when they were younger kids without control of their big big feelings. Nowadays, they feel safe asking for assurance, and giving hugs, or making promises. Whatever it takes to show their best friend love is true without causing a fight first.

“I wasn’t planning on it, babe. I’m gonna be here forever. Even when you steal my boyfriend.” Carol laughs softly, making sure to tack on the end, just in case, “That was a joke.”

Steve could tell, but he appreciates it anyways. Better safe than heartbroken.

Speaking of, he wants to tell some of what he’s been thinking about when it comes to this whole confession, “Tommy has a big heart. He’ll be able to share.”

“You do too, honey. That heart in your little chest is bigger than your hair, and that’s saying something.” Carol teases him.

Steve throws his hands up defensively, “You told me big hair was cool!”

Carol pokes his tummy, a playful action Steve gave her permission to do whenever the impulse strikes, “Well, it seemed like you thought as much when Billy Hargrove got a perm!”

“I’m allowed to have a crush on three guys at once!” Steve rolls his eyes, before realizing what he said, and cupping a hand over his mouth.

Too late. Carol is beyond interested. Eyebrow raised, and a smirk on her lips, she asks him, “Three? Who’s the other one?”

“Nope. That secret is guarded with my life.” Steve turns up his nose to act guarded, but it’s useless.

Carol pouts and makes puppy eyes like nobody’s ever seen, “Oh come on, bubba. I won’t tell anyone.”

Steve hesitantly starts to think about it, “You gotta promise.”

“Cross my heart, pumpkin.” Carol makes the action, totally sincere.

Steve breaks, “It’s Jonathan Byers.”

And Carol actually squeals, “Awwww! Stevie, that’s adorable!”

“He’s dating Chrissy now, so don’t bring it up ever again.” Steve warns, half stern and half fond.

“I said I wouldn’t and I meant it.” Carol twists her hair around her finger, acting innocent, though she of course advises, “Buuut I also know for a fact that Chrissy Cunningham hasn’t been in a strictly monogamous relationship since highschool, so don’t talk yourself out of anything yet.”

They both laugh about it. Steve will ask Tommy out, and then he’ll settle down for a little while. Sure, this relationship business is serious, but this is a journey that’s going to take a long time, and Steve is just starting it out. Having all those partners isn’t something he has to worry about yet.

Though, thinking about it in reflection, he does start to get a little worried.

“Carol?”

“Yes, baby?” She asks right away.

Steve rubs the fabric of his sweatshirt in between his fingers, “How many boyfriends is too many?”

“That’s not up to me, sugar plum. I only got one.” Carol shrugs.

“Fiancé.” Steve corrects because he has to, additionally feeling the need to point out, “And two girlfriends.”

“Duh. My heart has all the room for them, so I might as well. But I’m done. I feel complete now, and three people is good enough for me.”

Her explanation makes enough sense, but Steve just doesn’t know what to do with it.

He has way too much love in his heart to understand it really, and trying to add limits just makes him feel weird. Maybe it’s the autism. Maybe he’s truly as freaky as everyone says.

“Wrong answer Carol. Didn’t you know I’m a sexless, unfeeling being?”

Carol doesn’t humor that kind of thinking for a second. She holds his hands, and looks him dead in the face, “Sweetie, your feelings are real, even if they show themselves a little differently. Loud hands and humming are your butterflies in the tummy.”

“Wait, you mean you can tell when I have a crush?” Steve realizes with a strange feeling.

“Sort of. But I’m a people reader, I notice everything.” Carol exaggerated.

A smile spreads on Steve’s face with a joke, “I get what people mean when they say neurodivergence is a super power.”

Carol fake gags at his joke, “Ugh, gross.”

Yeah, it is. Steve giggles, “I know!”

Maybe, Steve realizes from all of this, the best answer is that nobody needs to define him. He can do things his own way, be that friendship or falling in love, and he’ll be just fine, as long as he has his CeCe and his Tommy.

~~~~~

Alternate forms of communication can be ostracized, ignored, and discriminated against. That’s why today I’ve chosen to represent the I-ASC, or The International Association for Spelling as Communication.

I-ASC works for and with neurodivergent, nonspeaking communities to support all methods of AAC, but focuses on spelling and typing to communicate. Their approach is based in research and in working with disabled individuals and their families to find what is best for them.

Not only do they have a library of resources, they also offer training and lessons for both the nonspeaking individual and their family. I really like that the I-ASC takes the time to ensure that the disabled person understands and can utilize the method they are given rather than just choosing it for them and leaving it at that.

Personal stories from “spellers” who were helped by I-ASC talk about how they provided a community to the nonspeaking folks, and helped them feel less alone. So not only are they advocating for the human right of communication, but they are also becoming involved in our community and assisting in personalized ways.

Donations will help any nonspeaking individual access the programs and fund their education. They have an FAQ section on the website under the “Give” section where they detail ways to donate.

If any of this interests you, I’m providing a link to the site right here.

[honeyquinns]

DRUG BUST

eddie munson x reader x steve harrington

requested: when eddie gets busted for selling ketamine, he uses his one phone call to contact reader and says he needs her to bail him out. she does everything she can to get the money but it’s not enough so eddie tells her about the stash of money steve has and reader seduces him into giving her the money.

warnings: drugs, cussing, seducing men. nothing insane…per say

——————————————————————————

*phone rings*

"hello"

"hi mrs. riley, is y/n home?"

"yes she is, Eddie. i'll get her for you"

"thanks"

you hear your mom yell your name from the kitchen, letting you know Eddie was on the phone. you picked up the phone from your room. "hey Ed, what's up?" you here him sigh on the other end "wait a minute-mom! hang up the phone!" you yell slightly “fine but you kids better not be discussing any involvement in sneaking out like last time. i will be on the first way to Wayne's house." she hangs up the phone, leaving you and Eddie in private. "what's wrong, Eddie?" he hesitates to answer, "don't get mad at me...i'm in jail and i need you to come bail me out." you sit up fast, moving your hair out of your face "what the fuck did you do!?” “i got caught selling special k to one of the assholes on the football team” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose “where am i supposed to get the money Eddie? and how much even is it?” he hesitates his answer and talks slightly low “500” “excuse me?? repeat that” he speaks up clearer “it’s 500 bucks but i have 300 in my safe under my bed that i saved for emergencies!” you start slipping on your long sleeve sweater, pulling your hair out from inside of it, still on the phone “okay but i’m gonna have to dip into some of my savings and i can only get 80. my mom keeps track of that shit.” you can almost hear Eddie get excited “great! yes! all we need is 120. where can we find that?”

you thought for a second and remembered one person who would easily give you money “ Steve Harrington” Eddie scoffed “you’re kidding me. the babyshitter.” you roll your eyes at him “do you want to get out or not” he sighs “fine okay but don’t tell him it’s for me, he won’t even give you the money if you did that. hell he probably won’t even give you the money at all. we’re both freaks in his eyes” you sat silent knowing Eddie had no idea what you knew and that’s that Steve had the biggest crush on you. you found out when babysitting Lucas and he rambled on about how Steve was an asshole at first but that he changed and when he met you after hanging with the kids at scoops ahoy, he started to have the biggest crush on you. honestly as much as you wanted to like Steve, you couldn’t stand the fact that not only did he bully your best friend but he also slut shamed Nancy, who you weren’t super close to but because of the kids, you considered her your friend and could always talk to each other.. especially about things Eddie wouldn’t understand. “don’t worry Munson, i know exactly a way to get the money from it. keep to yourself, i’ll be there in an hour. don’t drop the soap.” “y/n-“ you cut him off but hanging up.

you slip on your shoes and jacket and grab your safe from your closet, pulling out 80 bucks cash. you look out from your door and see the lights out downstairs, meaning your mom is asleep. you sneak downstairs being as quiet as you could, grabbing your house keys and slipping out the back door. you knew your mom would hear your car start or see it gone if she wakes up for a glass of water so you settled on taking your bike. you live 5 minutes from Eddie so you get there quickly and knock on his door revealing his uncle. “hey Mr. Munson! can i come in?” he gives you a warm smile “ofc y/n but Eddie isn’t here” you walk in and turn around to face him “uhhh yes! i’m with Eddie- well he’s over at the bench in the woods, i’m just grabbing something of his.” Wayne knew you two typically hung out at the benches to smoke weed, he didn’t really mind as long as he knew you kids were safe and where he could easily find you. after all, you were both 19. there’s not much he could control about that. “alright but don’t stay out too late, yeah? i don’t want your mom getting worried.” “of course!”

you head to Eddie’s room going under his bed and grabbing his safe, counting out the 300 dollars. you put his safe back and bike all the way to Steve’s house. his parents were always on business trips so you knew he’d have the house to himself. you made your way up to his door and knocked. 20 seconds later, you see Mr. scoops ahoy himself, dressed his pajama pants and no shirt. this should be easy, you thought. “y/n? what are you doing here? it’s 11pm.. and how did you know where i live?” he gives you a confused, tired face. “i’ve been here to pick up Lucas and the boys annnnd i need your help” you inch a little bit closer to him. “what-what’s wrong?” he says stuttering a bit. you usually kept your distance from Steve so you being closer to him made him nervous. “well you see i’ve been saving up for this gift i wanted to for Lucas. some big science machine he’s been wanting and i thought i could ask you for a bit of the money?” you bit your lip at him, giving him eyes which makes him weak at the knees. “i-i mean how much do you need?” “$120 dollars…cash” his eyes widened “woah, that’s uh pretty penny” you nod your head “yeah…i mean if you want something in return i can do that.” you stand closer, leaning your arm on the front door seal looking up at him.

“i- uh well i mean not that i wouldn’t mind a night with you- or! uh not that i would appreciate a return but it’s not needed. i care about Lucas so i could do it for him” he smiled but still nervous in your presence. you gave him the biggest smile you could. you were honestly surprised that he wouldn’t want anything in return. all you ever seen and heard in school was how much of a player he was and the amount of hookups he had. i guess maybe the kids really had changed him..or the fact that he got his ass beat by Jonathan Byers. either way, it almost made you want to return the favor anyway. he opens the door more, revealing his entry way. “you can come in.” you slide in and stand awkwardly by the steps. “i’ll grab the money, i’ll be right back.” he jogs up the stairs and you look around. you turn to see lots of pictures of his family, even his baby pictures. he looked like such a sweet kids but how did he grow up to be an asshole? you heard feet shuffling down the steps and turned around “120 cash” he hands it to you with a small smile.

“thank you, Steve. i appreciate it a lot” you almost felt bad you lied to him but you would also do anything for Eddie. he was practically your soulmate. platonic or romantic you never knew but he’s your best friend and somewhat playing Steve is kind of like revenge for all the girls he’s played. you couldn’t really regret. Steve leaned in closer to you, “i know you think i’m just some asshole but believe me, i’m not that bad of a guy.” you didn’t really know what to say so you nodded your head “maybe i will. you never really know, Harrington.” you backed out of his house and got on your bike. 20 minutes later you made it to the police station and nearly out of breath. “i should’ve just taken the fucking car” you whispered to yourself, breathing heavily. you got yourself together and walked into the police station, being greeted by “y/n, i see you’re here for Eddie” you roll your eyes at him. he was always a sarcastic smartass. “yes.. officer calla-ass” you mumbled. “okay alright, whisper all you want i have ears like a hawk.” he puts his hands up annoyed and walks away. you wait a couple of minutes until you see Chief Hopper.

“y/n” he said monotone “Jim” you matched his tone and frowned your brows to mock his little anger face. “seriously? okay, just come get your little friend and go home before i call your parents.” you follow him to the back where the cells are and see a tired Eddie laying on the cold bench. Hopper bangs on the gate and pulls out his keys “wakey, wakey Munson. your girlfriends here.” and just like that Eddie pops up, wipes his eyes and stretches. Hopper open the gate door and Eddie spots you running up, picking you up and twirling you around “there’s my girl! i thought you’d never get here” he kisses your forehead multiple times and gives you another hug. you were just happy to see your best friend again. you both walk out with Hopper and you pay him the bail money. you both walk out and Eddie stared at your bike “you couldn’t give take your car?” he gives you a look. “do you want to deal with my mother?” he shook his head “absolutely not.” with that he hops on the seat and you stand on the back wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

you made it back to your house and hopped off the bikes. you were about to tell Eddie goodnight and go inside when his voice stopped you “so did you uh.. do anything with Steve?” you raised your eyebrows at him “no. why do you ask?” he shrugs “i mean i don’t know.. you said you’d handle it but we all know Steve is a player…so i just thought-“ you stop him “no i didn’t. but i did.. somewhat seduce him into giving me the money for Lucas and it worked. he didn’t ask for anything though” he smiled then it dropped “what if he did? you know- want you do give him something in return” you gave him a soft smile but didn’t want to lie to him “Eddie, i would’ve done anything to get you out of that situation. even if that means sleeping with Steve Harrington” he pushed his lips together and chewed to the side “well i guess i should make sure not to put you in this situation again” you both laughed. “goodnight Eddie. get some rest please” you give him a hug and head toward your back door.

“wait-“ you turn around to face him. “we’ve been best friend for a long time right?” you nod your head “yeah duh of course” he puts his hands in his pocket and kicks an invisible rock. “would it be weird to..ask you on a date?” your eyes became wide, you never thought in a million years your best friend since age 12 would ask you out of a date. “what made you ask me that?” you said curiously. he shrugged again “i just- realizing you were with Steve, even thought didn’t do anything, just made me feel like i should admit my feelings for you.” you were shocked. yeah you always had a small crush on Eddie but you never thought a relationship would happen, actually you thought it would ruin the bond you two had if it ended badly so you just shoved the feelings away but him admitting to liking you back just brought back the butterflies you always had. “you have feelings for me?” you ask smiling. “oh don’t give me that y/n, i know when you start teasing.” and he was right, you had to tease him just a little bit. “you like me, you wanna kiss me, you wanna hug me, you wanna love me” you sung dancing slightly. he couldn’t even contain his laughter at that moment “oh my god. yes y/n, i do. would you like to go on a date with me?” he pushes out “yes Ed i would love to go on a date with you.” he smiles and gives you a hug. “i will pick you up tomorrow.”

you smile and turn to your back door, opening it “leave the ketamine at home” you said jokingly “ha. ha very funny. i’m stealing your bike”. as you turn around to stop him he already chases away with it, his hair flowing in the wind and he hops on the bike peddling fast “see ya tomorrow!” he yells down the road. you look at him until he disappears into the next street and head to your room. you lay in your bed, staring at your ceiling thats flashing lights from your tv. all you could think about was that you bailed your best friend out of jail for drugs and now you’re going on your first date with him. you weirdly felt super happy and went to bed excited for the next day.

——————————————————————————

a/n: one thing imma do… is always slide y’all a friends to lovers trope. i live for it. 🤭 i also don’t get many eddie requests so send some in!!!

[fangirlwriting-stories]

Well This All Went According To Plan

Summary: Virgil and Janus are behind on rent, and decide to invite a billionaire to a fake wedding so they can sell the expensive gift he sends as an apology for not coming.

Unfortunately, their plan doesn't really work out when he says he's going to come.

“This,” Janus said, looking down at the RSVP that had been responded to with brutal efficiency.  “Was not the plan.”

“You don’t say?” Virgil cried, throwing his hands up.  “Really!  I thought this was exactly what we wanted!  You’re telling me this wasn’t what you signed up for?  Janus, I’m shocked!  I thought this was the end goal!”

“Alright,” Janus said, glaring up at Virgil.  “You don’t have to rub it in.”

“Janus!” Virgil snapped.  “He was supposed to send a reply saying he couldn’t come to our damn wedding that doesn’t exist and send a very expensive gift as an apology!”

“Dammit, don’t you think I know that?” Janus snapped, dropping the RSVP onto the table and running his hands through his hair.

“Well what are we supposed to do now?”

Janus raised his hands up and turned to look at Virgil again.  “We’ve gotta get married, Virgil.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“You’d rather be called out by billionaire philanthropist Thomas Sanders?” Janus asked.  “Look, we’ll just put on a fake wedding.  What can it cost, a thousand bucks?”

“Because we have that kind of money!” Virgil said, dropping his head in his hands.  “It’s not like we were trying to get a really expensive gift to sell or anything.”

“Okay.  Okay, how about this.  We ask Remus to make us the cake so we don’t have to spend a hundred dollars on that.  We borrow Judge Aspen’s courtroom for a day because he likes me and he’ll think it’s funny.  And we borrow two of Roman’s tuxes that he uses for fancy dinners.”

“Remus will just make us a wedding cake shaped like a dick.”

“That’s a feature, not a bug.”

“Janus.”

“I’ll supervise him to make sure he doesn’t,” Janus said, rolling his eyes.  “Come on, you know we have to do this now.”

“I regret ever moving in with you,” Virgil said, dropping his head to the table.  “Fine.  When did we say the wedding was again?”

“In two weeks.”

“I’m going to strangle you.”

…

“Wait wait wait, you did what?” Remus asked with a beaming grin on his face.  “That’s hilarious.”

“Thank you Remus,” Janus said, crossing his arms.  “That’s exactly the reaction I wanted when I told you what was happening.”

“Happy to help!  So you want it shaped like a dick right?”

Virgil gave Janus the best “I told you so” look he could muster.

Remus made… unusual cakes.  Sometimes he added unconventional ingredients like dragonfruit, lettuce, or burger spice.  Sometimes he made a large enough one that a man could jump out of it, that man usually being him.  Sometimes he shaped them in abnormal ways.  He probably would have gone out of business by now if he and his brother weren’t both rich enough to fund a small country.

Okay, that was an exaggeration.  But seriously, they were loaded.

“No, Remus,” Janus sighed.  “We do not want it shaped like a dick.  Can you please, please try to make a relatively normal wedding cake?”

“Is anyone going to be eating it?”

“Yes.”

“Aww, so I can’t add paprika?”

“Please don’t,” Janus said.

“You don’t know what you’re asking of me Janny!”

“Make it normal and I’ll eat your paprika cake next week,” Janus said, looking like he regretted even making the offer.

Remus seemed to consider this.  “Do I get to come to the wedding?”

“No.”

“Oh no, the paprika is slipping out of my hand—”

“Fine,” Janus growled, and Remus beamed.

“Deal!” he called happily.

Virgil snorted.  “Have fun with that.”

“What do you mean?  I look forward to it already,” Janus deadpanned, and Virgil laughed again.

“Want me to eat it with you, dummy?” he said, nudging Janus in the side as they turned to walk out of Remus’ cake shop.

“You didn’t make the offer, you don’t have to do that.”

“Well, I can’t stand the idea of letting you be miserable alone.”

“You’d rather be miserable with me?”

“Of course, it reinforces my view that the entire world is miserable all the time.”

It was Janus’ turn to laugh at that.  He shook his head, but still had an amused smile on as he pulled out their list.  “Okay, now do we want to get the next terrible part over with and ask Roman for the tuxedos, or do we want to take a breather and ask Judge Aspen for the courtroom?”

“Let’s just get it all out of the way.”

…

“Sure you can borrow some tuxedos,” Roman said lightly.  “I’ll even have them fitted for you, you can keep them.”

“Why would you do that?” Virgil asked, crossing his arms suspiciously.

“Because I can afford them, of course,” Roman said.  “And you’re my dear friends and I love you.”

“You want to come to the wedding, don’t you,” Janus said.

“Of course I want to come to the wedding!” Roman exclaimed, grinning.  “That sounds amazing!”

Virgil sighed and dropped his head into his hands.  “He’s going to tease us about this until the end of time,” he said, looking up at Janus.

“And you weren’t expecting that anyway?” Janus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I do have one more condition though,” Roman said brightly, meaning this was going to be a nightmare.

“What?” Virgil asked.

“You are not getting married in a courtroom, that’s ridiculous.  I’m booking you a venue.”

“We’re not getting married at all, Roman,” Virgil snapped.  “It’s a fake fucking wedding!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t do it in style,” Roman said.  “Look, you’ve got the cake and the tuxedos, let me handle the rest.  I’ll get the venue and the decorations and I promise it’ll look amazing, and I won’t charge you anything!”

“And why would we agree to that?” Virgil asked, looking up at the ceiling.

“Because if you do I won’t hold over your head until the end of time the fact that you could have just asked me to help with this month’s rent instead of asking a billionaire to come to a fake wedding?”

Virgil looked over at Janus.  “I hate my life.”

“I hate your life too,” Janus said.  He turned back to Roman.  “Fine.  Deal.”

“Excellent!” Roman said happily, already pulling out a notebook and starting to write things down.  “Don't worry your pretty little heads about this anymore, Roman will take care of everything!”

And with that, he headed out of the room, muttering to himself and calling someone on his phone.

“How does he have the energy to exist?” Virgil grumbled, turning to sink onto one of Roman’s unfairly comfortable couches.

“He’s rich, he can buy extra energy,” Janus said, sitting down next to him.  “So, what does he mean by everything?  I mean, I’m sure he means everything, but he’s Roman, so he’s going to forget something.”

“Did he say anything about someone to officiate?  Or I mean, fake officiate?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.  Let’s ask Patton.”

…

Patton did not have the authority to officiate weddings, meaning he was perfect for their fake wedding where they weren’t getting married.  He was all too enthusiastic to do so too, and he didn’t ask to be there in exchange.

Well.  He’d be there anyway, and that probably had something to do with it.  But he didn’t ask for anything else in exchange.

So with Roman handling all of the decorating and venue issues, and Remus making the cake, and Patton as the officiate, all that remained was for the two of them to write vows they would apparently be giving.

Let it be known that Virgil was not a good person to write a wedding vow, but he somehow managed to get it done in time.

On the day they’d picked, they all gathered at the venue that Roman had picked out, which was actually surprisingly beautiful.  Roman had asked Logan to get rings, and Logan had thankfully seemed to realize that getting actual wedding rings for a fake wedding would be a huge waste of money, and showed Janus and Virgil the cheap plastic ones he’d gotten.  Janus had also asked him to grab a blank piece of paper they could sign as a fake certificate of marriage.

Remus had managed to make a relatively normal looking cake with Janus’ constant supervision, and it was now sitting over on the table with enough snacks for the total of seven people who were coming.

Patton was standing up at the front of the isle ready to officiate, and everyone else was going to sit.

Finally, by the time Thomas Sanders was due to arrive, the only problem left was getting Remus and Roman to stop laughing.

“And how long exactly does it take you two to get it out of your system?” Virgil asked, leaning back against the chair he was sitting on.

“Just give them a few hours,” Logan said with an amused smile of his own.

“Logan I swear to god—”

“It is rather humorous, Virgil,” Logan said.  “You could have simply asked one of us if you needed help making rent for the month.”

“Yeah, well if we did, Patton would get his sad puppy dog gaze, you would start lecturing us about budgeting, and Remus and Roman would try to convince us to move into their mansion again.”

“We’ve got five spare bedrooms,” Roman said, managing to stop laughing long enough to wipe a tear from his eye.  “And you know none of us look down on you for needing help with money.”

“I’d look down on you,” Remus said from his spot in a chair across the isle.

“Remus, someday I’m going to work for an expensive law firm and be drowning in money, and so help me when that day comes I’m going to buy your bakery out from under you,” Janus snapped.

Remus snorted.  “Good luck with that.”

“Hey guys,” came Patton’s voice, and they all turned to look at him.  “I think Thomas is coming.  There’s a limo outside.”

“Alright, everyone shut up and get into your places,” Janus said, grabbing Virgil’s hand and pulling him up to the front.

Thomas came in with surprisingly little fanfare and headed up towards the front of the room and smiled at everyone there before sitting.

“Hi there,” he said.  “You weren’t lying about the wedding being small.”

“We are a small but merry party today,” Roman said with a bright smile.  “Which is why we appreciate your coming so much more.”

“I’m happy to be here,” Thomas said, sitting in one of the chairs in the second of two rows.  “What time are we starting?”

“We’re starting right now,” Patton said with a smile of his own.  “Everyone’s here.”

Virgil took a moment to accept how humiliating the next hour was going to be, and headed up to the front to stand in front of Patton.  He took Janus’ hands between them both and they both turned, trying to stand just enough at an angle that Thomas couldn’t see them both looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“Dearly beloved,” Patton said, before launching into a speech that sounded pretty accurate, actually, from Virgil’s limited knowledge.  He must have really done his research.  At least he went pretty quickly, because Virgil didn’t think he could stand here for a long time and not give something away.  Eventually, he made it to the vows, which was definitely going to be about the most humiliating thing in Virgil’s life.

“And now, you may begin with the vows,” Patton said, smiling at them both.

Virgil looked at Janus, who looked back at him for a second before clearing his throat.

“Virgil,” he said, somehow managing to keep his voice perfectly smooth.  “You have affected my life in ways I never would have expected.  I never know what will come next when we are together.  And despite the trouble it can land us in, I find that’s usually a positive thing.  I don’t know how I could imagine life without you in it.  When I met you—”

“At a furry convention!” Remus called.

“That is most definitely not where we met,” Janus said, giving him a look.  “But it was… wonderful.  And I’m so glad I get to keep you.”

Virgil stared at Janus for a second.  Did the asshole just have to go and one up him on their fake vows?  Virgil’s was going to be shit compared to that.

“Uh, Janus,” he said anyway, because they were all in way too deep at this point.  “You annoyed the hell out of me when I first met you.  But now I guess I’d say you’re kind of okay.”

Janus snorted and despite himself, Virgil started to smile a little too.

“Okay enough that I want to keep you too,” he said, because now Janus was smiling and that made it a little less mortifying.  “And I can’t wait for all of this to be over so I never have to do it again.”

Janus laughed louder, leaning over slightly and using Virgil’s hands to hold himself up, and Virgil grinned down at him.

“Uh.  Love you and all that junk,” he finished, and a second later Janus stopped laughing and pulled himself up.

“May we have the rings please,” Patton said, and Logan stepped forward with the fake plastic rings, handing one to Virgil and Janus each.

“Janus,” Patton said.  “Do you take Virgil to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

“Why not,” Janus said with his own slightly teasing smile.  It was Virgil’s turn to snort.

“And Virgil,” Patton said, turning to face him.  “Do you take Janus to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

“That sounds like a lot of commitment, but what the hell,” Virgil said, and Janus laughed again.

“Then, by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you married!” Patton said happily.  “You may now kiss the— uh.”

Virgil stared up at Janus, positive he looked like a deer in headlights.  But before he could think about it too much, Janus leaned forward and gave him a very quick kiss.  Meaning all that was left for Virgil to do was to die of embarrassment.

The few people out in the audience started cheering a second later, so at least now all the horrible stuff was over and they could eat cake.

Remus hopped up to do just that, and since they weren’t really leaving to go anywhere for the reception, after a second the other people did the same.

Janus grabbed Virgil’s hand and pulled them both over towards the table, and Virgil was currently trying very hard not to look at his lips again, which was ridiculous.

“Hey dummies,” Remus said as they arrived at the table.  He shoved a piece of paper at them.  “Here’s your fake marriage certificate.  And here’s a pen.”

Virgil was pretty sure he and Janus both signed the thing without really looking at it, because a second after they did they were both staring at each other again.

“We didn’t talk about the kiss thing,” Virgil said finally, quietly enough that Thomas couldn’t hear.

“We did not,” Janus agreed with a small nod.  “Sorry, I just kind of… went for it.”

“It’s okay,” Virgil said.  “Uh— let’s have cake.”

“Yes!  That’s a wonderful plan!” Janus said, turning very decidedly away from Virgil and heading towards the cake.

The rest of the night was actually kind of nice.  They’d been to plenty of hangouts with their friends before, this kind of just felt like that.  Well, with the addition of a random billionaire none of them knew.

The night finally ended when that billionaire came up to them at around seven.

“Hi, I’m sorry to rush out,” he said.  “But this was really the only time I had to be here.  I have a lot to do tomorrow.  I just wanted to say congratulations.”

“Thanks so much,” Janus said, with what was at least a believable smile.  “We uh, we didn’t at all think you’d actually come.”

Thomas laughed a little.  “I can understand that,” he said.  “I just…” he smiled a little and shook his head.  “This kind of thing never would have been possible when I was a kid.  I never thought I would get married at all.  It just makes me very happy.  I’m very happy for you both.”

Well.  Shit.

“Thanks so much,” Janus said, with a slightly strained smile.

“Of course.  I left my gift over on the table by the door, by the way.  It’s just a set of silverware, I’m sorry, I’m bad at gifts.”

“That’s okay,” Janus said.  “Thanks so much for bringing anything.”

“Well that’s what you do when you come to a wedding,” Thomas said with one last smile.  “I’ll let you get back to your night.  Have a wonderful life.”

And with that, he headed out.

“So,” Virgil said, clapping his hands together and turning to face Janus.  “Do you also feel like a piece of shit now?”

“Oh no, not at all,” Janus said, clearly lying.  “We just called him down to see something that ended up being incredibly important to him and it was all entirely fake.”

“Oh, no it wasn’t, don’t worry,” came Remus’ voice.

Both of them jumped and turned to face him.

“Jesus, Remus,” Virgil said, putting a hand to his chest.  “What the hell are you talking about?”

“What, Patton didn’t tell you?” Remus asked, grinning in a way that meant nothing good.  “He did a whole bunch of research for an online officiate thing, and they sent him something in the mail when he finished.”

Virgil’s blood ran cold.  “What are you talking about, Remus?”

“Patton,” Janus said, and Patton glanced over at them from further down the table.  “Did you actually get officiated for our fake wedding?”

“What?  No, I just went through this course thing so I’d know what to do,” Patton said with a confused smile.  “And they sent me a little certificate once I finished.”

“Patton,” Janus said, bringing his hands up in front of his face and then clenching them into fists.  “That means you can legally officiate weddings now.”

Patton’s smile dropped.  “Oops.”

“It’s okay,” Janus said instantly, turning to face Virgil.  “It’s okay, because we never actually signed a marriage certificate.  It was just a blank piece of paper.”

“Oh you mean this one I got from a courthouse?” said Remus, grinning at them and holding up a very official looking piece of paper with Janus and Virgil’s signatures on it.  “I told Logan I’d handle it.”

“You. Did. What,” Virgil growled.

Remus started cackling.

“I’m going to murder you!” Virgil screamed, and before anyone could stop him, he leapt at Remus and tackled him into the table.  But Remus kept cackling, even after Virgil managed to pin him down.

“Well even if you do, Janus can’t testify against you now,” Remus said, and then started cackling again.

“REMUS!”

Remus leaned back in his chair and started cackling.  Virgil walked up to the table that had the remains of Remus’ wedding cake on it, picked it up, and walked back over to Remus and dropped it on top of him.

Remus continued to laugh and did not seem at all bothered.

“This is what you get for not getting over your pride and asking for help,” Remus said in what sounded like the most sing-song, asshole voice that he could manage.

Virgil growled, but before he could strangle Remus and watch the life fade from his eyes, Janus grabbed his arms from behind and pulled him away from him.

“No, let me murder him!” Virgil screeched, kicking his legs back towards Remus.

“Virgil, Virgil,” Janus said, putting a hand on Virgil’s chest to hold him back.  “There’s witnesses.”

Virgil supposed that was a fair point, and he took a minute to try to shove his anger back down.  But then Remus said “Yeah, they’re a crucial part of a wedding.”

Janus couldn’t hold him back after that.  Remus was at least smart enough to run for his life.

[xoxoladyaz]

AU-gust, Day 8: Robots and Androids

WARNING: THIS IS A CROSSOVER WITH FNAF. (Listen, I told you things were about to get weird so please fasten your seatbelts, it's gonna be a wild ride 🩷)

“This might be the stupidest job we’ve ever had.”

“Are you kidding?” Robin yelled from across their homey two-bedroom. “These outfits are so much better than Scoops!”

“First of all, that’s saying literally nothing, and second of all, you’re not the one wearing safety cone orange!” Stevie yelled back as she examined her reflection in the mirror. Her new work uniform consisted of a long-sleeved bright-orange shirt with the Fazbear Entertainment logo in bright blue on her front breast pocket, paired with fitted black trousers that had bright orange piping running up and down the edge.

(Whomever worked in the staff uniform design department of Fazbear Entertainment definitely had it out for her.)

“Oh shut up, that color looks great on you,” Robin retorted as she strolled into Stevie’s bedroom. She was dressed in the Roxanne Wolf version of her outfit – lilac and lime green which was so, so much cuter in Stevie’s opinion. “Besides, you have those lightning bolt earrings from our Bowie party that match perfectly.”

Stevie sighed and started flipping through her jewelry box. “Ugh, I guess. I still don’t know why we took this gig though.”

“You mean aside from the fact that Argyle got us these jobs in a literal day?”

“Uh, yeah, Robin! We’re working at the robot capital of the world and you hate robots.”

“Okay, first of all the Glamrocks aren’t robots, they’re animatronics,” Robin started numbering off on her fingers. “Secondly, Roxanne Wolf is a lesbian icon to whom I owe my allegiance and I see that eye-roll Stephanie Harrington, don’t give me that sass, and thirdly we’re working in the gift shop, we’ll, like, never see them in person.”

“Famous last words,” Stevie muttered, but Robin was already speeding into the hallway.

“Now stop stalling, dingus, it’s time to hit the Pizzaplex!”

/////

Stevie had to begrudgingly admit that working at Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex wasn’t the worst job in the entire world. She got to spend all day with Robin (and make faces with her behind the backs of the really crazy parents) while staying warm, dry and ice-cream free. Which, speaking of, they also got free food with every shift which meant lunch and/or dinner breaks with Argyle (who worked in Chica’s Pizzaria and loved it, the maniac) and that was awesome.

(It was really hard to keep track of everyone now that they’d all been relocated from Hawkins and spread across the state of California; if Stevie thought about it too much, she’d get emotional, so she tried not to think about it.

Or about the fact that Eddie hadn’t texted her in a few weeks.)

Stevie even got to pick-up a few overtime shifts in the daycare on her off days which, hey, the faster she makes money, the faster she can get to cosmetology school.

(Did she have problems with the fact she was sharing babysitting duties with a glorified robot? Not really.

Did she understand how the toddlers weren’t scared by Eclipse when he was in his Moon phase? No, not even a little bit, that fucker was creepy.)

That didn’t mean there weren’t drawbacks to her job, of course. She and Robin averaged about twenty upset and entitled parental encounters daily combined, not to mention all of the crying children who were either upset that they weren’t getting exactly what they wanted or were upset that they weren’t getting what they wanted fast enough. Their all-time high of screaming kids was 41 and they drank a fuck ton of wine that night.

But the biggest problem about working at Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex? Those goddamn animatronics. And not because Stevie was scared of them, oh no, no, it was because Robin was full of shit. Anytime one of the Glamrocks came within twenty feet of the gift shop she ducked for cover, and if it was Roxy? She was useless for a solid fifteen minutes afterwards every single time.

(“I think this officially qualifies you as a furry,” Stevie said after one particularly close encounter. Roxy had stopped to take pictures in front of the doorway and Robin had catapulted herself through the Montgomery Gator sweatshirt rack and crashed into Roxy’s plushie display and got absolutely buried.

“It really shouldn’t be that big of a surprise, Robs, this is how you always act when a pretty girl comes around - ”

“Stevie? Shut. Up.”)

It wouldn’t have been a problem if Robin and Stevie had remained posted at the gift shop, but no, the gods forever frowned upon Stephanie Harrington.

/////

“Harrington!” Her manager Roger barked as he power-walked past her, three weeks into her tenure at the Pizzaplex. “We’re running low on Freddy plushies out front, so I’m going to need you to go and get the next shipment from storage. Here,” he said, tossing her a new keycard that she (barely) managed to catch. “Second floor storage area behind Fazer Blast. There should be a dolly there for you to use. Thanks!” Roger hollered, and then he was off running after a mop-bot that was spreading paint around in the main atrium.

Stevie turned to look at Robin who was already shaking her head. “Nope, no way.”

“Aww c’mon Robin, please? I always go with you when we walk around the Pizzaplex.”

Robin rolled her eyes and was about to reply when the melodic voice of Roxanne Wolf echoed throughout the plaza. “Thank you, I am the best,” the Glamrock crooned, and Robin flushed bright red and threw herself into the gift shop.

Welp. Looks like Stevie was going to have to handle this solo.

/////

Question, why was Stevie handling this solo again? Because she’d passed about twenty janitorial bots on her way to the storage area, all of whom were just scooting around with nothing to do. 

Whatever.

There was a dolly back in the (dark and creepy) storage room, so she loaded up a brand new box of Freddy Fazbear plushies and made her way to the main elevator bank.

“Sorry, excuse me, pardon me,” she said on repeat as she walked past scores of rowdy children and their stressed parents. As she rounded the corner, she saw the elevator doors begin to close and she moved faster.

“Please hold!” She yelled, and the elevator doors stopped shutting. “Shit, thank you,” Stevie gasped as she rolled the cart in and wiped her eyes.

“No problem, superstar!”

Fuck.

Stevie whipped around to look at the other occupant of the elevator and – yep, it was the man (err, orange bear) himself, all 6’3” of animatronic rockstar Freddy Fazbear gazed down at her, his signature smile on his perfectly polished face.

Stevie barely noticed the elevator doors slide shut behind them, barely heard the tinny elevator music play as they started their descent.

“You’re - ”

“I’m Freddy Fazbear, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” the animatronic intoned.

“Hi, yeah. I’m - ”

“Stephanie Harrington,” he interrupted, his eyes scanning her form with a bluish light. “You work in the gift shop.”

“How did you - ”

“I have access to the Pizzaplex’s employee directory. For security concerns.”

“Oh. Cool.”

She stood and stared at the bear, who stood and stared back at her. And then wiggled his ears.

(It was kind of cute.)

“Well, I - ”

The elevator suddenly screeched to a halt and Stevie barely managed to stop herself from tumbling to the ground – mainly because a pair of oversized orange paws gently caught her.

“We’re sorry,” an automated voice spoke over the elevator intercom, “but it appears that our elevators are experiencing a technical difficulty. Please remain calm and our staff will be with you shortly.”

Stevie groaned, slumping back against those orange paws. “Oh, great.”

“Not to worry, superstar!” Freddy said, and Stevie barely suppressed her flinch at his booming voice. “Our staff is highly qualified and perfectly capable of fixing any and all technical issues that may take place at the Pizzaplex. We will be out of here in no time!”

(Stevie had seen how long it took the staffbots to fix the soda fountain when it exploded; she didn’t share Freddy’s faith in this at all.)

“Good, glad to hear it,” she replied drily. She stood up and waved Freddy’s hands away (or, err, paws. His paws. Paws that followed her to make sure she wouldn’t fall again which wasn’t sweet, for fuck’s sake!)

“Well, Stephanie, how about we play a game?” Freddy asked as she Stevie slumped against the far wall. (No way she was going to stand for this.)

“Sure, Freddy. What game do you wanna play?”

Freddy’s ears wiggled again as he hummed (or made a humming sound; he couldn’t actually hum, could he?) “How about we play the Question Game? I always like to learn more about my friends!”

Aww, he thought they were friends. (Or he was programmed to say that, or think they were friends? Just how intelligent were these things? She should text Dustin later on and ask what he knew about Fazbear Entertainment.)

Still, Freddy continued to smile as he waited for her reply and yeah, okay, that was cute. “Sure, Freddy,” Stevie sighed, but she made sure to smile back at him. “Let’s play the Question Game.”

/////

They were in the elevator for a total of forty-five minutes, which gave Freddy and Stevie plenty of time to play the Question Game. Stevie learned all about Freddy’s favorite things to do at the Pizzaplex (play music with his friends, try to beat his old high score in Fazer Blast, dance at DJ Music Man’s shows whenever he had the chance), his best friend (Bonnie, who had been banged up pretty badly and was getting fixed somewhere offsite), his other best friend (Chica, they liked to do Jazzercise together), and his favorite thing to do in his free time (which was read, apparently? She wasn’t sure how the animatronic bear got his hands on copies of “the classics” and honestly wouldn’t have pegged him as a Dostoevsky fan but hey, apparently even orange animatronic bears can have depth?)

In turn, Stevie told him about her favorite things to do at the Pizzaplex (visit Argyle at Chica’s Pizzaria, laugh at Robin when she hid from Roxy), her best friend (Robin, who worked with her in the gift shop), her other best friends (Argyle and Nancy and Eddie and Jonathan and Chrissy), her family (well, Dustin and the Hopper-Byers’ at least), and her favorite thing to do in her free time (watch movies with Robin, which then led into a long conversation about what movies she’d seen and would recommend because while Freddy knows about movies he hasn’t seen a whole lot of them).

He also asked her questions about the world outside the Pizzaplex: where she was born (Hawkins), why she moved from Hawkins (an earthquake, which was the official cover story), what her dream job was (being a hairdresser, at which point Freddy said she should talk to Roxy and start training at her salon which was, again, very cute), and all about the places she’d seen and where she wanted to go next.

(“Probably down to Malibu,” she’d said, lost in thought. “I’d like to see those beaches. What about you, is there somewhere you’d like to go?”

“I – well.” Freddy paused, and for the first time, he appeared troubled. “I cannot leave the Pizzaplex.”

“Oh,” Stevie murmured and wow, that really fucking sucked, didn’t it? Sure, she was talking to a robot bear who was literally built to be children’s entertainment but he wasn’t really feeling like just a robot bear anymore, especially the more they talked and played the Question Game. And this might have been one really, really long con or programming thing but – what if it wasn’t? What if he was fully intelligent and he was really stuck here?

Like El and the lab, she thought, and then she was barely able to stop herself from tearing up.

“But if I could go somewhere else,” Freddy continued, unaware of Stevie’s inner turmoil, “I would also probably choose to go to the beach. I would like to see the sun on the water,” he finished quietly.)

Stevie didn’t know what to say, but thankfully the elevator started up again, so she was spared any sort of deeper introspection.

“See?” Freddy said, no trace of sadness in his voice at all, like it had never been there. “Good as new.”

“Yeah, you were right about that,” Stevie said, pushing herself to her feet. It was a little tricky to do so while the elevator was moving, but Freddy held out his hand and she grabbed hold without a second thought. “Thanks, Freddy.”

“You’re welcome, superstar,” Freddy replied with an ear wiggle. “Can I assist you with transporting your cart to the gift shop?”

Stevie grinned. “You know what, Freddy? That would be great.”

/////

“EVIL,” Robin hissed from behind the sales counter, her white knuckles gripping onto the laminated wood for dear life. “You are evil.”

“Hmm, what was that?” Stevie asked as she watched Freddy unbox (and gently stack) the plushies on the main console table. “I can’t hear you, Robin.”

Robin hissed an unintelligible reply but Stevie ignored her, watching instead as Freddy stepped back and clapped his hands together. “Perfect!” He turned and alighted that bright electronic smile towards Stevie. “Thank you for letting me help, superstar.”

“No, thank you for helping, Freddy. Come back and visit any time, you hear?”

“Absolutely.”

Stevie waited for Freddy to leave, but he didn’t; he just stood there and stared at her, letting the seconds pass them by.

“Uh, Freddy, sir?” An acne-riddled teen with “Benny” on his nametag cleared his throat. “We need you in Superstar Row for some Meet and Greets.”

“Oh, yes,” Freddy replied, like he wasn’t thinking, like he’d forgotten.

(He was still looking at Stevie.)

“It was nice talking with you, Stephanie,” he finally said, and with one final wave he thundered out of the gift shop, Benny at his heels.

Stevie turned to look at Robin, who was looking at her with confusion. “Huh.”

“Huh,” Stevie repeated, and she could practically feel herself blush the longer that Robin looked at her. Robin who, of course, sensed a perfect opportunity for revenge.

Robin who suddenly had a shit-eating grin on her face. “You know, I think that officially qualifies you as a furry, dingus.”

“Oh, fuck off, Robin.”