#but if he tries to shit on my group presentation tomorrow i will karen this all the way to the top

[handlewithcharacter]

I desperately need to work on this paper that’s due tomorrow and instead I’m just coming up with Star Trek OCs that in the back of my mind I am performing as on Star Trek Legacy bc it’s my daydream and I can do what I want

[carry-the-sky]

these heavy words, your open heart

summary

“You told me once that I was honest. That I don’t lie to you. But the hospital—you asked me to start over, and I said I didn’t want that.”

Karen sucks in a breath. Frank’s eyes are still on her, wide and bright. It’s the most vulnerable she’s ever seen him look.

“I lied,” he says.

a/n: merry kastlechristmas, @kastlenetwork​​​​​​! i’m normally an angst machine, but i tried to do something a bit softer to fulfill your prompts (not sad + new year’s, hahaha). i hope you enjoy, and thank you so much for organizing this event! <3

chapter one

Frank’s in the wind, but he’s not really gone. He’s in every bouquet of flowers, each hole-in-the-wall diner she walks past on her way to meet with a source. She pictures him, bloodied knuckles and bruises smudged under his eyes, the low gravel of his voice when he tells her the war is what he wants. She hopes that no news is good news, that maybe he’s found some measure of peace and what it means if he hasn’t—

He’s been dead before. Karen blinks, and the diner is just a diner.

He’s everywhere, at first. Local gangs, exposed drug rings, a city councilman with ties to sex-trafficking—the Punisher is all over the news cycle for a solid month after his escape from police custody at Metro General. It’s a shitstorm, but Karen wades through it the same way she always has. The city’s still rotten, still reeks of corruption and scandal and bad people doing bad things, so she follows her nose. Frank’s not the only one who has a job to do.

Time soldiers on. The steady deluge of news slows to a trickle, then stops altogether. The Globe tries to regenerate some of the hype by running a story that pins a string of uptown murders on Frank, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. New York has moved on.

Karen tries to do the same. Her schedule is more flexible now that she’s freelancing full-time, so she doesn’t feel guilty saying yes when Matt and Foggy invite her out on the weekends. She digs for stories and chases leads, writes and investigates and writes some more. It’s hard work, less than stable—looking at her bank account makes her want to cry—but it’s good. For the first time since moving to the city, she feels free.

Frank’s in the wind, but he’s not really gone. He’s in every bouquet of flowers, each hole-in-the-wall diner she walks past on her way to meet with a source. She pictures him, bloodied knuckles and bruises smudged under his eyes, the low gravel of his voice when he tells her the war is what he wants. She hopes that no news is good news, that maybe he’s found some measure of peace and what it means if he hasn’t—

He’s been dead before. Karen blinks, and the diner is just a diner.

.

Winter hits the city hard. The temperature plunges to single digits in the week leading up to Christmas, with a few inches of snow in the forecast. Karen works from home as often as she can, trading her pencil skirts for fleece-lined leggings on the days she’s out running down sources. She just barely makes the submission deadline for a piece about embezzlement in the county tax collector’s office. 

Karen hasn’t really celebrated Christmas since Kevin died, but she makes a conscious effort this year. She digs her old tree out of storage and strings cheap lights around the window and spends the better part of an afternoon making eggnog and cookies for Foggy and Marci’s holiday party. It feels almost normal, until she starts thinking about Vermont and the gingersnaps Mom used to make. Karen remembers swiping a handful of them at a time and escaping to the hall closet, crunching them extra loudly to drown out her parents’ arguing. They always fought more around the holidays.

Christmas comes and goes, and Karen dives headfirst back into her work. The new year looms, equal parts uncertainty and possibility, but she keeps herself tethered in the present. Whatever happens, she’ll roll with it. She always does.

.

There’s a dog in the alley next to her apartment. 

It’s nosing through a couple of discarded take-out boxes, but snaps its head up when Karen steps onto the sidewalk. The dog—she, Karen’s gut says—is definitely a mutt, lean like a lab with a boxy pit bull face. Her coat is brown with grime, but there’s a smudge of white over one eye, like an upside down heart. 

“Hey, there,” Karen says, crouching. She holds a tentative hand out, freezing when the dog growls low in its throat. “Easy, it’s okay. I’m on my way out, but I’m gonna call someone to come get you, okay?” 

Animal control is swamped. There’s a high volume of calls coming in, typical for this time of year. The earliest they can come out is tomorrow morning, and Karen’s heart clenches thinking about how low the temperature’s been dropping at night. She glances sideways at the dog, making a mental checklist of all the food that’s currently upstairs in her apartment. No kibble, but anything she has is better than garbage. If she could just get the dog out of the cold—

Karen takes a step towards her building’s front door at the same time that the dog bolts, scrabbling down the alley in a blur of kicked-up snow and dirt. 

“Shit,” Karen hisses, watching the dog disappear around a corner. (“She’ll come back.” Kevin—he’s ten years old, cradling a stack of lost dog flyers under his arm. “Right, Kare? We’ll find her.”)

Karen stares down the length of the alley for another second. She’s already running late for a meeting with a volunteer at the regional VA office—her one and only lead so far on this new story she’s trying to crack open—but she makes a note to grab some treats on her way home. With any luck, the dog won’t go too far.

The meeting goes well. Her volunteer confirms the rumors of negligence in the treatment of veterans across the tri-county area—understaffed facilities, falsified intake records, and in one instance, a vet dying while on a hospital waitlist. Nothing overly shocking, but it still makes Karen sick to her stomach. The system is broken, and sometimes fixing it feels like an impossible task.

“I’ll be in touch,” she tells the volunteer as she’s getting ready to leave. “Thank you again for meeting with me, Curtis—”

“Curt,” he replies, cracking a grin. “My mom’s the only one who calls me Curtis. Hey—” he gestures to the folding chairs stacked in the corner. “I host a support group here for vets in the area, and our weekly meeting is tonight. You’re more than welcome to stay, maybe chat with a few of them about their experiences with the VA office.”

“I have to head out,” Karen says, “but maybe another time?”

“Absolutely. No pressure.” Curt reaches out to shake her hand. “Take care, Karen.” 

Take care. 

Two words. That’s all it takes, and she spends the rest of the day brushing away memories like cobwebs. He’s backlit in the frame of Schoonover’s shed, he’s standing by the water, he’s pressing his forehead to hers—she closes her eyes and all she sees is Frank. 

The thing is, even if she wanted to get in touch with him, she has no idea how to. The burner number he’d given her the last time he came back from the dead isn’t good anymore, and it’s not like she can just look him up in the phonebook. She could try Madani, but Karen has a hunch that even if the newly-minted CIA agent knew where Frank was, she wouldn’t be partial to sharing.

She has some dried flowers at home, leftover stems from a bouquet that her neighbor was making for her granddaughter. They’re the only flowers Karen has allowed herself to have in the apartment since she last saw Frank. As soon as she gets home, she sticks them in an empty vase and moves them to the windowsill. Not exactly white roses, but they’ll have to do. 

He’ll come back. He always does.

[princecupcakee]

Park Bench | Reddie

Read on AO3

Rating: E

Pairing: Richie Tozier/Eddie Kaspbrak

Word Count: 2,969

Chapter: 5/8

Past Chapters: Chapter 1 (AO3), Chapter 2 (AO3), Chapter 3 (AO3), Chapter 4 (AO3)

Next Chapter: 

Summary: Recently divorced and ‘incapable of love’, Eddie Kaspbrak moves to Los Angeles for work and a small, small hope of a fresh start. Broken up and never dated again, Richie Tozier tries to get back into love with help from his love of music. Quickly meeting eyes and one concert later, they think that maybe love isn’t that bad. So they try it one more time.

Chapter 5: Richie Tozier And Eddie Kaspbrak Get A Turtle, Richie Tozier Plans A Proposal, Richie Tozier Goes Viral

Tags/Warnings: Angst / Unhappy Ending / theres only one sex scene but this is explicit anyway / Bisexual Richie Tozier / Gay Eddie Kaspbrak / Post-Divorce / Implied/Referenced Cheating / Inspired By Remembering Sunday (All Time Low) / Inspired by The Book Ninja by Ali Berg / Implied/Referenced Child Abuse / Implied/Referenced Abuse / Implied/Referenced Manipulation

Tag-list: @richietoaster​, @s-s-georgie​, @mikeuris​​, @gazebobullshit​, @that-weird-girls-blog​, @tozierking​​, @thoughtfullyyoungduck​, @s-onora​, @bellarosewrites​, @lermanslogan​, @ambitiousskychild​, @ghostnebula​, @vanillaredvelvet​, 

(Ask if you wanna be on the tag-list!!)

Chapter 5

Richie Tozier And Eddie Kaspbrak Get A Turtle

“Look, if you don’t get me the papers before the end of this week, we will lose this client… yes, I know. I have a meeting with them at the end of this week…yes, I need them tomorrow, Karen… yes. Yes, thank you.” Eddie sighed and threw his head back on the couch. His last few days have been absolutely hectic, with one of their biggest clients yet, he’s barely been able to get a break.

“Eds!” Richie called, opening the door, “I’m back! Where are you?”  He had gone out to see Walter and Maddison for a few hours while his parents were busy with his sister. He didn’t ask for more details.

“Yeah! I’m here!” Eddie tiredly calls.

Richie smiled weakened when he saw Eddie tiredly sprawled across the couch, “I got a gift for you.”

“What is it?” Eddie smiles, pulling his head back up.

Richie takes his hands away from behind his back and holds… a turtle. Richie’s eyes wide and bright, “look! I went to this restaurant across the street —don’t ask why— and found this little guy in a cage! It was ridiculous! I told them if I could have it and they just let me.”

“Why… why would you get me a turtle?” Eddie irritatedly asked.

“I thought-“

“Are you stupid? Richie, what are we supposed to do with a turtle? How are we supposed to take care of it?”

“We can go to the pet shop and-“

“Neither of us know how to take care of a turtle. Are you sure its even safe? W-we could get, like, Salmonella or something!”

“Eds.” Richie strictly said, his face showing no sign of anger, “it’ll be fun though. We can take care of it together, we can go to the pet store and get stuff- I’ll wash my hands after touching it every time.”

Eddie looked at the turtle skeptically, “fine,” he finally said. Richie’s smile came back and sat down beside Eddie who slightly moved away after. Ignoring the movement, Richie asks him, “what do we name it? We can name it, like, Pennywise.”

“What? No! That sounds horrible! That sounds like a- a fucking horror movie character or something!”

“That the name of the killer clown that you thought broke into Ben and Bev’s house and tried to kill you?” Richie snickered.

“Fuck you,” Eddie hisses with no real anger.

“Well, what names do you have?”

“Uh, I don’t know… Maturin.”

Richie gave him a look, “Okay, thats no better than mine!”

“Yes, it is!”

“No, no, no, you know what? Hold on,” Richie rambles, taking his phone from his pocket. Quickly typing something, Eddie gets a notification from his phone. Thinking its Karen (finally) giving him the papers early, he sighs and opens his phone. Karen is still definitely late with giving him the paperwork, but now Richie has created a group chat. Eddie was already fearful of what would come.

The Family - Ben Marsh, Beverly Marsh, Mike Hanlon, Bill Denbrough, Stan Uris, Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak

Stan: What the fuck is it this time, Richie.

Bev: Stan be nice

Richie: Yeah stan be nice

Richie could hear Eddie snicker beside him.

Richie: but anyway, me and Eddie are dads and we need a name for our child

Bev: how did this motherfucker get a kid

Bev: I thought it would be stan and patty first

Eddie: How did you get Mike and Bill’s numbers?

Richie: Nothing.

Stan: He’s lying, he never uses punctuation.

“Shit,” Richie murmured.

“How are you this bad at hiding things?”

Mike: He asked us what your favourite food was so he would know where to take you out on a date, Eddie.

Richie: nO

Richie waited for Eddie’s reaction, he assumed that Eddie wasn’t uncomfortable, seeing as there was a blush on his face.

Stan: Wait a minute. Mike Hanlon? Like, ‘first-ever-school-day-was-college’ Mike Hanlon?

Mike: Thats how you remember me?

“They know each other?” Richie says from beside Eddie.

“I think they were exes.”

“Really?”

“Thats what I remember” Eddie shrugged looking back down on his phone. He knew it was pretty stupid to be texting in a group chat while they sat together, but they did need that name. (Thats what Eddie tried to tell himself, if the true reason isn't obvious enough.)

Stan: Holy shit. Dude hey how’ve you been?

Mike: Pretty good actually.

Richie: GUYS WE’RE NAMING MY CHILD

Richie: HELLO!! PAY ATTENTION

Mike: I’m staying in LA for a while since they needed more people in this branch.

Mike: Thats also why Eddie and my boyfriend are here too.

Stan: Good for you, man. I’m assuming your boyfriend is Bill Denbrough because thats the only name I’m not familiar with.

Ben: You’re familiar with Eddie’s?

Richie: GUYS

Stan: Richie doesn’t know how to shut up.

Richie: DO YOU NOT CARE THAT I HAVE A CHILD NOW

“Richie, how are you still this annoying over text?”

“You love it.”

“I really don’t,” he laughs and shakes his head. He does.

Bev: Richie, if you did have a child I would know immediately.

Mike: Yeah it is :)

Richie: DAMN HETS LISTEN TO ME

Mike: not hetero

Bill: I’m not straight either

Richie: DAMN PEOPLE LISTEN TO ME

Stan: I’ve generally had enough.

Bev: Alright, Losers (not you Ben and Mike) we’re all getting lunch. Bring your ‘child’, Richie. We’ll name him there.

Richie Tozier changed the chat name to ‘The Losers’ Club’

With Bev sending the address of the restaurant “Our friends confuse me,” Eddie says shutting his phone.

~~~

“Meet my child!” Richie says loudly, earning a few looks from the others in the restaurant. He takes a seat in between Stan and Eddie grinning widely and presenting the currently unnamed turtle.

“Its-its a fucking turtle,” Stan says critically.

“His name is Penny-“

“No its not,” Eddie smiles as he cuts him off.

“What names do you guys have?” Ben asks politely, trying to bring back the lightness of the table before the two had walked in.

“Pennywise.”

“Maturin.”

The table spun with an agreement to Eddie’s name over Richie’s choice as Richie pouts in his seat. A waitress came to check for their orders, a confused look on her face once seeing the turtle perfectly still in Richie’s hands.

“Richie that name sounds like a child’s nightmare,” Bev jokes once the waitress has gone. Richie sticks his tongue out to her childishly.

“Maturin it is then?” Eddie laughs triumphantly.

“Where did you even get that name?” Richie asks bitterly. The rest of the group just laughs.

Eddie loved this. He really did. Everyone talking and enjoying and Eddie finally feeling like he hasn’t done anything wrong. They felt like family. The few people who he could talk to without causing any pain or problem. The few people who would let him be himself without having to feel like he was in a cage. He didn’t want to lose any of this. And from the smile on Richie’s face, he doesn’t think he will.

Richie Tozier Plans A Proposal

Some people would think he was crazy. He thought he was crazy.  They were dating for just slightly more than three months and he was already planning, the date, the time, the place of when he would ask Eddie to marry him. ‘Old habits die hard’ Richie guesses as he sits alone in his bed, writing down the perfect ideas for asking Eddie.

Yeah, he rushed it with Connor, but even he knew that it wouldn’t last. That doesn’t really add up to his actions after the break up. But this was Eddie. Eddie loves him, right? He’s said so; that alone shows he isn’t anything like Connor. He couldn’t be wrong anymore, he didn’t want to have to latch on to Stan as he did before. He was nuisance while living at the Uris’, he admits that he knows he doesn’t have all the reason for it. He basically asked for it when he said, after what was supposed to be a one-night-stand, that he was dating Connor. That was on him.

But Eddie walked out of a concert with him, a stranger at the time, and let him walk him home after remembering that Connor left him at the same concert ground with the same band playing to have another one night stand with a girl. He went to one of his shows after knowing close to nothing about him other than his name when he was late to the first date he would’ve had since his horrible break up.  He went to have breakfast with him at 5 in the morning when he cried about never being loved again the night before. He sat with him in the pouring rain after realising that he was in love. That he was in love, not that he was in love again.

He turns from his back to his stomach, reaching out for his phone. He debates on whether or not to call Bev or Stan, ‘both those bitches are married,’ he thinks. And calls both of them.

“What the fuck do you want I’m trying to make dinner,” Stan says tiredly, his voice sounding distant and the sound of crackling filling the empty parts on his end.

“Whats up, Rich?” Bev says nicely, shuffling.

“I, uh,” he didn’t think it would be that hard to say.

“Spit it out, Tozier, I might fuck up my pesto.”

“Oh shit, you got pesto? Uris Pesto is the best! Can I come over?” Richie says enthusiastically.

“No. Talk, Richie,” Stan says quickly. Beverly laughs in the background.

“I wanna ask Eddie to marry me,” Richie says softly, after a beat of silence.

“Thats it? You interrupted my cooking for this shit?”

“Its serious, man!”

Beverly sighs, “Richie, Eddie loves you. This is all on you though. If you think both of you are ready, then go for it. If you’re just… scared, then, I don’t think you should.”

“I-I’m not scared,” he says to himself more than them.

“You just love him?”

“Yeah.”

“He really isn’t like anyone else, huh?” Bev laughs.

“He really isn’t,” Richie smiles to himself.

“Then do it,” Stan says simply, “if you love him enough to marry him, to ask him to marry you, then that must be something, right?”

“Thanks,” Richie says, fondly, “help me buy the ring soon?"

“Of course, Richie. Now, when, where, and how?” Beverly giggles.

~~~

His notebook opens on the coffee table, leftovers, and a cup of coffee, he attempted to plan. A restaurant didn’t seem interesting to him, a casual proposal in their house wasn’t really fun, their house maybe? The bench. He grinned and jotted down the plan.

Richie Tozier Goes Viral

“Eds, where’s my charger?” Richie asked walking out their room.

“We’ve been dating for, what, four months? How do you still not know where I put our chargers?”

“You clean things too often, I specifically remember leaving it on the floor of  my side of the bed.”

“Your blind ass would’ve stepped on it when you woke up. Your charger is in the drawer,” Eddie said and continued to eat his cereal. Richie kissed his hair and walked back to their room.

Eddie sighed. He loves Richie, he really does, but- “Eds, look at this,” Richie said excitedly almost tripping on his legs as he walked over to Eddie. Richie instinctively wrapped his arm around Eddie and showed his phone screen.

It took Eddie a moment to register what Richie was showing him, but when his thoughts hit him again he grinned, “holy shit, Rich! This is amazing!” Richie’s screen presented a video, Richie’s latest stand-up, posted online; millions of views.

“I know! And that’s not all of it,” Richie said taking his phone back to him and began to tap around, “Look!” Eddie carefully read the text on the screen, asking him to do a professional show, his grin somehow widening.

“Richie!”

“I know! And so many people are asking to be my agent and shit, and- oh fuck, baby, you gotta help me out with all this shit,” he rambles excitedly, hand gestures to try to emphasise whatever point he was trying to get across.

“Of course!” Eddie laughed to slightly lessen his energy as he stood up and kissed Richie. Richie gladly kissed back, lifting Eddie off the ground for a few seconds.

“I love you,” Richie said, forehead against Eddie’s. Richie’s phone rang loudly from his hand and they both looked at the screen and saw ‘Mrs. Molly Ringwald’

“Really?” Eddie asks sarcastically as he pulls the phone from Richie’s hands. He kisses him on the cheek and answers the call on speaker. “Hey, Bev.”

“Oh my god, did you hear about Richie! Is he asleep? I swear the little shit will be late to your own wedding-“

“I’m right here, Bev!” Richie says loudly into the phone.

“Oh. Sorry. But anyway, you heard the news! I’m so proud of you, Rich!”

“Thank you!”

“We heard the news from Bill! He has all these Hollywood connections from his books —honestly don’t know why he won’t just do that instead, no offence Eddie— and he said that you might be getting a… professional show, is it?”

“Yeah! Bill’s a writer?”

“He has some books and actually gets some good money out of it," Eddie muttered the next part,” he might get more if he wrote better endings.”

“Okay anyway, so proud of you, Rich!” Beverly congratulates again after laughing.

~~~

So as they sit in Richie’s small apartment sofa, with his hands on Eddie’s waist and Eddie’s fingers curled around in Richie’s tangled hair, he lets himself enjoy it. Richie’s arms roam under Eddie’s shirt; one hand pressed on his back and the other rubbing circles around his nipple. Eddie lets out little moans, that surge of energy through him that he didn’t even think was possible.  “Are you okay?” Richie asks.

Eddie was confused at first, still needing Richie to touch him. He noticed the pounding in his chest after a few seconds mumbling a breathy ‘I’m fine,’ and goes back to kissing Richie. Of course, a few seconds later he realises why. ‘Push them away, Kaspbrak.’

Richie lightly tugs at the bottom of Eddie shirt, Eddie quickly getting the message and raising his arms up. Richie instantly pushes Eddie’s back onto the sofa after taking his shirt off; his hands tracing every part of Eddie’s bare chest.

Eddie remembers the feeling, of being touched like this, not with Myra. Being touched in a house that wasn’t his and a bed that he wasn’t supposed to be on. But Eddie loved every second of it. Sure there was the guilt, the guilt of having a wife back home thinking he’s out late for work or out with a friend, but the feeling of it was just so good. Eddie thinks he should stop using the word ‘good’ so much but it seemed to be the only way he could describe this odd sensation in words.

Richie was pulling off his pants little by little, struggling to get them off and still keep his mouth around Eddie’s chest. The moment Richie got them off he instantly moved down to Eddie’s legs. Spreading and licking and biting at the inner side of Eddie’s thighs until they left deep marks on Eddie’s skin while his dick would twitch. “Richie take your clothes off,” he mumbled pulling at Richie’s hair in between moans.

“I’m not as pretty as you, baby, but okay,” he laughed, pulling his shirt off and kissing Eddie roughly. Eddie wanted tot protest about Richie’s statement but Eddie pulled Richie by his hair instead. Richie wanted to make a joke about it but was quickly distracted by Eddie grinding against his leg that was in between Eddie’s thighs. Richie bit down on Eddie’s neck, “don’t move, I got it,” he whispered in his ear.

Richie licked at the front of Eddie’s underwear; Eddie bucking his hips up. “I told you, don’t move,” Richie said again, pulling down Eddie’s underwear. Eddie felt cold, but Richie spreading his legs further, and his tongue teased at Eddie’s hole as he whines. Richie giggles slightly pushing his tongue in and gripping at Eddie’s thighs. His thumbs softly rub at the inner side of his thighs, feeling little bumps on the places he had sunk his teeth into only minutes earlier, he pushed his tongue in and out of Eddie’s hole. Richie pushed one finger in first, slowly adding more digits as his tongue kept moving. His tongue and fingers alternated like that for a while, at the same time he was getting hard from the noises Eddie makes.

“Richie!” Eddie shouted. Smirking, Richie aimed for his prostate over and over as Eddie’s moans grew louder and louder. Eddie’s hands had moved down to his dick, moving has a hand at a quick pace. One last strong push from Richie’s tongue or fingers (Eddie was too busy to tell) Eddie shrieked and let out more than he has in a while. Most of it had gotten on Richie’s hair some trailing down his face. “Fuck,” Eddie throws his head back against the sofa as Richie moves up to his chest again. Head resting on Eddie’s chest and kissing his nipple, his hands quickly move down to his own dick and moved. Eddie smiled, holding Richie’s face in his hands and kissing his lips. Richie pulled away and moaned as he came.  “Holy shit,” Richie mumbled forehead resting against Eddie’s as he laughed, “Wow. Been a long fucking time.”

“I know,” Eddie agreed. Despite the anxious feeling bubbling up inside him. Richie didn’t ask.

[fanwarriorfictions]

One-

A Stranger Things Fanfic

Chapter One: The Vanishing of Will Byers

Seraphina Wheeler sat in her room, running her fingers across her wrist, where a small, black tattoo had rested her entire life. She was thinking, not about anything specific, just any thought that came to her mind. Her mind traveled through multiple things, happy and sad memories, painful and terrifying ones, all of them, of which she could actually remember. One stuck out like a sore thumb, but she kept her thoughts away from it, from the anger and sadness that came with it.

That thing festered in her mind, and she knew that it wouldn't be long before it consumed her. She had locked it away a long time ago, not able to handle that pain, the feeling. She was good at locking away her emotions, but one day, she won't be able to hold back anymore, and she'd break.

A knock sounded at her door, she jumped a little, her mind coming back to the present, "come in."

One of her little brother's friends stood there, Dustin, "Hey Phina, since Nancy just refused the last slice of pizza, do you want it?"

She smiled at him, "sure Dustin, just set it on my desk. You guys done for the night?"

"Yeah, your mom is kicking us out," he said, slightly sad, walking over to the desk and setting the box down, "we didn't even get to finish!"

"Wow that sucks, you guys have been planning this for two weeks," she shouts, a small frown on her lips.

"Yeah," Dustin huffed.

"I'm sorry Dusty," Phina smiles at him, "come on, I'll walk you out."

Dustin nods happily, he'd had a cute little crush on her for the longest time, and she knew that, she thought it was adorable. She had babysat him when he was little and ever since then, he had the cutest little puppy dog crush.

The two walked down the stairs, talking about the campaign. Dustin told her about the Demogorgan and how Will had used fireball.

"He should of used a protection spell," Dustin whined.

"I don't know Dusty, if it were me, I would've used fireball," Phina smirked, knowing a double meaning behind her words.

Dustin shook his head, "and I thought you were the smart Wheeler."

Phina laughed loudly and smacked his shoulder, "I am the smart Wheeler, and that says something about my siblings."

Dustin laughed and opened the door to go into the garage, seeing his friends grab their bikes. He follows suit, turning to Mike.

"There is seriously something wrong with your sister," Dustin said to him.

"Ouch," Phina mockingly says, holding her heart as if she had been hit there, "my ego Dusty.".

"Oh you know I meant Nancy," Dustin laughed, "well, maybe it was just a little bit about you."

"Oh whatever Dustin," Phina playfully scoffed, "you know you love me!"

"What are you talking about," Mike asks.

"Nancy's got a stick up her butt," Dustin answeres, blushing a little because of Phina's comment.

Phina snorts loudly, both at Dustin's blush and because of what he said about her sister.

"Yeah," Lucas agrees then adds, "it's because she's been dating that doucheage, Steve Harrington."

Phina's smile falls and turns into a hard scowl at the mention of Steve Harrington, "damn right it's because of Harrington."

"Yeah, she's turning into a real jerk," Dustin nods.

"She's always been a jerk," Mike scoffs.

"Nuh-uh she used to be cool." Dustin starts to ride away on his bike. "Like that time she dressed up like an elf for our Elder Tree campaign."

"Four years ago," Mike shouts back.

"Just saying," Dustin says.

Phina chuckles at them, earning a small glare from Mike. She raises her hands in surrender, but continues to smile.

"Later," Lucas shouts.

"Be safe boys," Phina yells at them.

Dustin waves his hand in the air dismissively, "yeah yeah, whatever!"

Phina shakes her head and yells, "don't be a sarcastic ass Henderson! That's my job!"

Will stays behind for a second and turns to Mike, "it was a seven."

Mike looks at him, confused, "huh?"

"The roll, it was a seven. The Demogorgan, it got me," Will explains, "see you tomorrow."

As Will turns and rides off, a chill goes down Phina's spine, something felt a little off about what he said. The lights flickered a little and she looks at them a little wide eyed. The feeling did not go away, only pierced deeper into her.

"Be safe Will! Tell Jon and your mom I said hi," she yells after the boy, almost wanting to tell him to come back and just stay the night, but she knew her mother wouldn't let him stay on a school night.

"Okay!"

Phina shakes her head, trying to tell herself that she was just being paranoid.

She puts on a fake smile and turns to Mike, putting her arm around his shoulders, "did you have fun?"

"Yeah, it was one of our best campaigns yet," he says excitedly.

"Well good," Phina smiles at him and pushes him inside, "now go get ready for bed."

"But," Mike begins to protest.

Phina lifts her hand, "ah, don't argue with me Micheal."

He huffs, crossing his arms like a pouty child. Phina chuckles and ruffles his hair. She pushes him towards the stairs and he complies, swatting her hand away, laughing.

Phina smiles at him as he runs up the stairs and turns around. She goes to shut the door, but a cold wind blows into the house, surrounding Phina. She shivers, the creeping feeling in the back of her mind sends a deep chill through her. She shuts the door and shakes her head, staring at the door.

"You ok sweety," her mom asks.

"Yeah, I'm ok." Phina jumps, turning around to give her mom a fake smile. "Just tired, I'm gonna head up to bed."

Karen smiles at her, "ok sweety, goodnight."

"Night."

As soon as she was in the comfort of her room, she locked her door and closed her curtains. Phina did a mental checklist in her mind, making sure she was not going to be seen. Once she had checked off everything at least twice, she sat in the center of her bed, closed her eyes, and concentrated.

In the house next door, a small girl looked out her window, and towards the Wheeler's house, almost every night, the same thing happened. A golden glow emitted from the window, but the girl could not see what it came from.

The girl watched in awe, the light was beautiful, swirling and flickering in the night, almost as if someone was making a shadowy story for the little girl to see. The magical light was the girls favorite part of bed time.

The light went out, and back to the normal light of the room. The girl left her window.

Phina walks down the stairs of her house, dressed in her normal outfit, dark denim jeans, a black long sleeve shirt and a red flannel over it. Her long, blood red curls flowing down her back freely. She sat at the table, where her family had already started eating breakfast.

Mike pours syrup all over his foom which gets a look from Nancy, "that's disgusting."

"You're disgusting," Mike snaps back.

Phina smiles at the two bickering, but the smile vanished when she hears her mother pick up the phone.

"Hello..... oh, Joyce, hi."

Something happens with Phina's siblings and they start yelling. She doesn't spare them and attention. Their bickering was normal, and, unless it escalated, she wanted no part of it.

"Will? No no no, it's just Mike.... no, he left a little bit after eight. Why? He's not home?"

A sickening feeling settles in Phina's stomach, the same one from the night before. Karen hangs up and looks over at Phina, giving the empty plate in front of the girl a look.

"Are you going to eat?" she asks.

"No, I think I'm gonna head to school early, I have to meet up with a project partner," Phina lies, not at all hungry.

"Ok sweety," Karen nods absently, though her tone says she isn't happy about it.

Phina stands from the table and grabs her jacket, bag, and keys, before heading out to her motorcycle. She threw on her black leather jacket and then her backpack. She hopped on her bike, started it up, and drove off quickly towards the school, all the while, the sickening feeling settling deeper into her stomach.

Phina drove into the schools parking lot, people jumping out of her way as she sped past them. She parked in her usual spot, which was relatively close to the door. She noticed a few people standing by a car, watching her. Steve Harrington and his group of asshole friends.

Phina wanted to snap at them, but that would cause more harm than good. She avoided looking at them, but that didn't stop Carol from harassing her like normal.

"Watch out everyone, the freak of Hawkins is coming," Carol said loudly.

Phina didn't even pause, her mouth moving before she had time to even process what she was about to say, "watch out everyone, the slut of Hawkins is out spreading STDs."

The sound of Steve's sharp laugh, and Carol's cry of anger, made Phina smirk. She continued into the school not bothered by Carol screeching and calling her a bitch.

The crowds parted slightly as Phina made her way to her locker. She had a reputation at the school, and that made people very hesitant of her. Her, I dont give a shit attitude and her history of fights certainly kept people away. She kept to herself, only ever talking to her best friend and her younger sister.

Phina got to her locker and opened it, grabbing the things she would need for her first few classes and putting them in her bag. Then she grabbed her sketch book and her pencil case and shut her locker. She turned around and was met by the face of her best friend, Jonathan Byers, who had his hand held out like he was about to touch her shoulder.

"Shit Jon, you scared me." She jumped, then noticed the look on his face, distressed. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Will, he didn't come home last night. My mom called your mom but he wasn't at your house," Jonathan explained.

The feeling in Phina's stomach began again, almost painfully present, but she kept calm, for Jonathan.

"I'm sure he probably just stayed at Dustin's," she tried to reason with him.

"Yeah, you're probably right," he sighed.

Neither of them believed her.

-1771 words-