#erica writes

[bikkinibottom]

I’ll always cheer you on

words: 5.9k | percabeth | chapter 2

summary: Annabeth never imagined herself as a cheerleader and neither did anyone else. But throughout her experiences, she not only finds love in the sport and for her teammates, but in her best friend too.

chapter summary: Annabeth finds out whether or not she made the cheerleading team. Summer shenanigans ensue as she, Percy, and Grover come to terms with starting high school in August.

Annabeth was attempting to do a split as she and the other aspiring cheerleaders waited out in the hallway for their number to be called. Tryouts were officially underway as the first person was called into the gym for individual scoring. They were numbered off randomly and Annabeth was dead fucking last of the dozen candidates that were trying out.

Read the rest on ao3!

[whosaidsealscantfly]

Summary: Gloria Alvarez and her rookie partner, Alana O'Quinn, are specialized detectives who are assigned on a case to track down a suspect in a string of crimes. An anonymous tip leads the duo to discover the Welcome Home Restoration Project and its webpage. They decide to infiltrate from the inside in order to investigate what their suspect, the "Question-Answerer," is up to; however, when Gloria and Alana realize that something is off about Welcome Home and its website, the pair realize they've stumbled upon something more than they can bargain for.

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Chapter 3 is now up!! This time, it features some familiar faces...

If you like it, please be sure to let me know!! Comments, kudos, likes, reblogs, etc. are all really appreciated <3

[sleepsunawareof]

Okay I now have over 200 notes on the fic I wrote and I can't believeeeeeeee it 🥹🥹🥹🥹 I'm trying to gather up some inspo for another. It was more fun writing than I thought and now I am encouraged. So thanks again 🥰🥰

[hairmetal666]

No one knows who writes the Hawkins High Tattler. It comes out every week, without fail, has for almost two decades. Everyone reads it, even teachers, even parents. It's caused more the one suspension, grounding, and even--famously--a shipping off to boarding school.

Steve's never let the Tattler get to him much. He's in it, of course, practically a new story every week. But it's just silly gossip.

Of course, Steve is also, currently, the titular Tattler, so. It's not like he's surprised when his name shows up.

It's his third year, his last year, and he knows everything that ever goes on at Hawkins High. It's pretty easy, honestly. Everyone thinks he's ditzy and vapid; nothing more than hairspray and polos. People will say anything around him, assuming he's not listening or not interested, and then bam. It's in next week's Tattler. No one even suspects him.

The confessions locker probably helps. Down by the theater, busted and unusable, the perfect place for people to leave tips, to tattle on their friends (or enemies, as the case may be).

That's what he's doing right now, checking the confessions locker. After 9:30 on a Friday night, the place silent as the tomb, perfect time for it. Pretty standard fare this week. The only thing of interest is that Eddie Munson was the person who broke all Ms. Click's pencils and left the stubs on her desk. This one, he laughs at, can't wait to publish it; can't wait to talk to Munson about it.

He gets a lot of stuff about Eddie. Most of it he doesn't publish because it's bullshit about satanic rituals--the nerdy kids he babysits play dnd, and there's no way Karen Wheeler is letting anything satanic happen in her basement--or about his sexuality, and one thing Steve doesn't do is out people.

Gathering up this week's submissions, he closes the locker with a soft clink, and he swears, swears he hears the squeak of a tennis shoe on the polished tile of the floor. He freezes, heart in his throat. Nobody has been here this late before.

Seconds pass but there's only silence. Confident he's only hearing things, he heads out, the parking lot just as empty as when he arrived.

---

He sees Eddie a few days later, when he's picking up the kids from the arcade. They typically exchange casual greetings, but as Steve waits, Eddie stands with him, offers him a cigarette.

"Read that was you who messed with Click's pencils. Good one."

Eddie shrugs, gives a little bow and a smile. "Happy to be of service."

"It was my class, when she found them. Never seen her so mad."

"No way," Eddie laughs. "Not even when Hagan drew dicks on all the textbooks?"

"Not even then, man. She was throwing pencil stubs everywhere."

"Fuck, sad I missed it." Eddie takes a drag, Steve's eyes following the movement, lingering on his mouth. Something warm and tingling builds at the base of his spine and he forces his gaze away.

"How long you in detention for?"

"I'm not. Swore it wasn't me, and Click doesn't want to admit she reads the Tattler, so. Not much they could do. "

"I've seen it sitting on her desk!"

"I know! She reads it when she has detention duty!"

They lean against Steve's car, laughing, and Steve feels good. This is good. He likes Eddie. He's funny and dramatic and smart and kind. He's not deserving of any of the mean things that get submitted to the Tattler.

The kids come streaming into the parking lot then, and Eddie stubs out his cigarette, says "see you around, Harrington," and Steve finds himself flushing for reasons he can't quite explain.

---

He starts seeing Eddie around way more. He's in school most days, smoking in the parking lot after the last bell, chatting with Steve in the hallways.

It shows up in the Tattler; big news that the King and the Freak are hanging out. Most of the submissions are about it, increasingly elaborate rumors about their supposedly deep, close friendship.

He wishes he could tell Eddie.

Eventually, Eddie invites him to smoke at the quarry. He doesn't hesitate to say yes, doesn't even bother to try ignoring the swoop in his stomach, the speed of his heart.

They sprawl out in the back of the van, Eddie's loud, raucous music pounding around them, sharing a joint back and forth.

Steve gets hazy, boneless, can't stop watching Eddie, the way his lips purse around the joint, his long hair glinting gold in the weak light of the camping lanterns, the pleased shine of his eyes every time he makes Steve laughs.

He likes Eddie so much. Everything about him, honestly. Butterflies ping in his stomach, happy and slow, and he thinks how nice Eddie's lips are, wonders how soft they must be. And he thinks--he's read the submissions, right--he knows the things they say about Eddie, and he wishes it was true, he wants--he wants--

He wants

---

Steve's running late to check the locker. Lost track of time at the diner with Eddie, and it's making him panic.

He stuffs the submissions haphazardly into the pocket of his hoodie, dancing with nerves, willing himself to grab them all and get out.

Locker emptied, he sprints towards the exit. He has a second to process someone barreling towards him in the dark, but he's going too fast to stop, can only brace himself as they collide.

It sends him sliding across the floor, Tattler submissions spilling out of his pocket like snow. He hits the ground, scrabbling for the papers, praying that whoever is here with him can't see them in the low light.

Hands grips his biceps. "Stevie, Steve, we have to get out of here" and there's a second where he's comforted by the familiar rasp of Eddie's voice before terror spikes again.

He pulls himself from Eddie's grasp, searching for any dropped submissions in easy reach. "Wha--why--what's--"

"I ran into Jason Carver and his band of idiots at the gas station. They're on their way to here to try to catch the Tattler in action."

Steve freezes. "I don't--that's not--I--"

In the deep silence of the empty school, they both hear the slamming of a door, a bitten off giggle. Eddie grabs his wrist and they run. Into the theater room, through a door Steve didn't know existed, to the backstage area of the auditorium.

"You should be safe here," Eddie says.

Panic spirals through him. "I can explain. I was just--I forgot a--I needed--"

"Harrington! I know, okay? I already know."

Steve can only blink at him, swallows rough in his throat. "What--Eddie, I--"

"I saw you. Weeks ago. Forgot my notebook in the theater room after Hellfire and had to run back for it. You were there, at the locker."

"You can't tell anyone."

"I'm not going to."

"No, Munson, you really can't. Nobody can know. Nobody--"

"Swe--Stevie, I promise. The secret's safe with me." He rocks back on his heels, chewing on his lip for a second before he continues. " I--I couldn't figure you out, you know? I saw you around with those kids and it didn't make any sense. King Steve, babysitting tiny nerds? But I saw you at the locker and..."

"You're giving me too much credit, man."

"I don't think so. You're never--fuck, Harrington--you're never mean. At least, not in the last couple years. You spread gossip, but you don't punch down, and you're funny as hell. Mean as shit too, but only to the people who deserve it."

His ears burn and he looks down. "Just because I have fucking--fucking editorial standards doesn't mean that I'm anything special."

Eddie scoffs. "Remember, Stevie, I was reading it a year before you were here. Cruel, vapid garbage. Always the most vile, pointless stories about people who couldn't defend themselves. And how many submissions have you gotten about me, for instance, that you've never used?"

Steve clenches his fists. "I would never--"

"I know. Sweetheart, I know. That's why I li--You're so fucking good, Stevie."

He laughs, ears burning. "I'm really not, Eddie. I try to write about fun gossip that can't hurt anyone too much, and nobody's found me out because they think I'm too dumb--"

Eddie reaches out then, fingers connecting softly with the edge of Steve's jaw. He can't help but lean into the touch, eyes flickering closed.

"You don't want to hurt people because you're fucking kind. You know how I know for sure? You must get submissions every week about me, and you've never once printed that I'm--" Eddie stops then, swallowing hard.

Steve's throat goes tight. He rests his hand over Eddie's, still holding his face. "Me too," he whispers. "Kind of. I like--it's both. For me."

"Oh," Eddie breathes, mouth lifting in a bright, beautiful smile that Steve can't help but return.

He's watching, sees when Eddie's gaze drifts his lips, making his breath hitch. He doesn't really think about closing the distance between them, slotting their mouths together in a tentative, gentle kiss.

"You're just full of surprises aren't you, Steve Harrington? Eddie asks when they part.

Steve blushes. "That's sort of the last of them."

"Sure. Next you'll be telling me you've played dnd."

"I have a character."

"What???"

"Human paladin. Dustin worked on it with me. Ready to get out of here?"

"Human paladin," Eddie gapes. "You know--you said--what's happening?"

Steve twines their fingers together, leading Eddie towards the auditorium exit. "Well, first we're going to walk out to my car and then we're going to my house, and we're going to look through Tattler submissions. Maybe makeout a little bit."

Eddie giggles. "What the fuck? Like. What the fuck, sweetheart?"

He turns to face Eddie, smile big and pure and bright with happiness. "If you're really nice to me, I'll let you help write this week's issue."

"Oh, oh. You're going to wreck me." Eddie mumbles, almost to himself.

"If you're lucky." Steve beams.

[thoughtkick]

Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn’t.

Erica Jong

[stevie-petey]

episode four: the sauna test

Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!” “What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time.  “Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent. Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 

Summary: dustin has some brotherly concern for you (dont tell anyone though), steve is offended you dont think he can fight, nancy gets upset during therapy hour, robin encourages child endangerment, erica becomes your hero, and you lose your lunch on hawkins makeshift tower of terror (aka sketchy russian elevators)

Rating: general, swearing

Warnings: swearing, use of y/n, fem!reader

Words: 7.5k

Before you swing in: hello my loves ! had a busy may wrapping up finals, move out, and adjusting back to life at home. i finally had the time to write this, and while im still iffy with some parts, im just excited to finally be at the elevator scene tbh. ive been DYING to write her. enjoy !!

-

Dustin stands outside your room the next morning, fist hovering over the door, unsure if he should knock. It’s early and he can’t get the panic he saw in your eyes last night out of his head. He hasn’t seen you that consumed with anxiety since you guys were kids and your parents began to fight. 

He feels horrible for putting you in that position last night, at odds with him, Robin, and Steve. 

Especially Steve. 

Dustin hadn’t meant to start a fight between you and the teen. Contrary to popular belief, he actually does want the two of you together, but now he’s worried he’s somehow caused a rift in your relationship.

Sighing, your brother allows his knuckles to rap against your door. When he doesn’t hear anything, he slowly opens it and pokes his head in. You’re asleep in your bed, blankets strewn everywhere, and Dustin knows he’s fucked up because you almost never sleep in this late. 

Now he’s worried he’s going to have to force you into a code blue.

Dustin lets himself into your room and stands before your bed. Then, because he’s your brother and finds it hard to express his worries for you in a normal way, he pokes your cheek with his finger. “Wake up.”

You stir at the touch but remain asleep. Dustin groans and starts repeatedly poking you. “Dude, get up.” He now starts poking your nose, your forehead and eyebrows, anywhere his finger can reach.

Finally the onslaught of pokes to your face is enough to wake you up. You raise your hand and slap Dustin away as you scrunch your face in displeasure. “Why do you always insist on waking me up this way?”

“It’s fun for me.”

You slap at your brother again and take a moment to stretch. Your body is exhausted, you got home late last night after your drive with Jonathan. Once the two of you had been done discussing your relationship problems, you both decided to just drive around Hawkins and simmer in your limited time together. For those few hours, only the two of you existed.

Yawning, you blink your eyes open at Dustin. “Is there a reason you’re waking me up before my alarm is supposed to go off?”

Dustin’s smug smile falls. He coughs and starts to fidget with his fingers. “Oh, I was just–well. Last night… Do you wanna talk about it?”

The implications of your brother’s words cause you to fully wake up. “Is this your poor attempt at commencing a code blue?”

“Well, do we need a code blue?”

You roll over and throw your blankets over your head, blocking out the world. “I already talked about my feelings last night with Jonathan, please give me at least twenty-four hours to recover.”

Dustin flicks your ear that pokes out from under the blankets at the mention of Jonathan. “Why were you with that guy last night?”

“Stop touching my face!” You yell at the kid, annoyed. “And because he’s my best friend. We both had shitty nights so we drove around and cried together.”

Your brother pauses. “Did you actually cry together?”

“No,” you now uncover your face and sigh. “Only I cried, but it was therapeutic nonetheless.”

Dustin drops his head, remembering how upset you’d been standing in the hallway last night with the others. “I’m sorry about last night, Y/N.”

“Hey, no.” You sit up now and force him to look at you. “No apologizing. I understand.”

Your friends have all gone their separate ways this summer and I know you’re so fixated on the Russians because you’re lonely. I understand, and I’m here for you.

It goes unsaid, but Dustin knows that you have him all figured out, though it doesn’t ease the guilt he feels for dragging you into all of this in the first place. “You don’t have to join me at Scoops today, Y/N.”

“I know, but I will anyway after my shift.” I have to keep you safe.

“We both know you’re only going to make sure I don’t burn the place down.” You worry too much.

“Oh, don’t think I won’t call Steve once this conversation is done to make sure he keeps an eye on you.” I know, but it’s my job and I love you.

“You’re the worst.” I love you, too.

You ruffle Dustin’s hair with a fond smile. It’s an intricate thing, the hidden language that can only be found between siblings. All that goes unsaid becomes masked behind teasing and taunts, but you both hear what’s underneath. 

When Dustin leaves your room to go to the mall, you roll over in bed and reach for the phone that rests on top of your desk. Your fingers press the numbers that have become ingrained within your brain from countless nights of dialing. The line rings only one time before Steve’s tired voice answers. 

“Hello?”

You smile hearing his voice, despite the distance that seems to have now formed between you. “Hi, honey.”

There’s rustling on the other end of the line and you know Steve still lays in his own bed only ten minutes from your own. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine,” you quickly reassure him, wincing when you realize you don’t normally call him so early. “Sorry, I was just calling to ask if you’d keep an eye on Dustin today? With the Russians and everything, I have work today and can’t be there–”

“Of course I’ll keep an eye on your brother, Y/N.” Steve gently interrupts your anxious rambling. 

“Thank you,” you say softly with a laugh, embarrassed. 

“Are we…” Steve hesitates, unsure how to find the right words. “Are we okay? I know things were–uh, weird. Last night. And that I was a dick and I just, I’m really sorry, Y/N. For everything.”

You close your eyes and exhale slowly, knowing that there’s more that Steve wants to say but is too afraid to tell you. Too ashamed to say that he’s embarrassed as well for allowing his pride to cloud his judgment, and you’re too exhausted to try and remind him again that you love him despite it all. “We’re okay, Steve. I promise.”

He takes a moment to respond, he doesn’t know what else to say. He’s never been good at this. Finally, he settles on what he’s able to give you. It seems that’s all he’s been able to do lately. “I’ll miss you today, angel.”

“I’ll miss you too, honey.” The name slips from your tongue in a languid manner, the warmth that accompanies the word still wraps itself around your body and reminds you of the love you feel for the boy. You hope he can feel the warmth too, you hope it descends down the landline and wraps around him as well. “I’ll see you after work.”

– 

Your day only gets worse from there.

After only an hour or so of sadly sorting through books at work without a customer in sight, you hear a frail scream come from Mrs. Waters’ office. You run towards the woman in a heartbeat, panic stricken and afraid of what you’ll find. 

Mrs. Waters is sitting tiredly in her office with her head in her hands when you run in. The usually upbeat woman is hunched over with despair and you’re quick to rush over to her with worry. “Mrs. Waters, is everything okay?”

She rubs at her temples and it’s then that you realize her telephone is in her hand. Without bothering to look, she clumsily places it back on the wall and looks up at you with sad, tired eyes. “I’m fine, dear. I–I just had a fright, that’s all.”

“What happened?” You pull a chair to sit next to the woman and grab her wrinkled, yet soft, hands. 

“Oh, I’m old.” Mrs. Waters smiles at you sadly. There are tears in her eyes as she takes a deep breath to try and steady her nerves. “My, you would think I’d be used to phone calls from the hospital.”

“The hospital?” 

Hearing the panic in your voice, your boss grabs the hands you have placed on top of her’s and squeezes with reassurance. “It wasn’t for me, dear.”

You’re still anxious for the woman in front of you. “Who then?”

“They called me for an old friend,” Mrs. Waters clutches at her chest with a certain fear that you’ve never seen within the woman. “She’s in the hospital because some young journalist found her eating fertilizer in her home last night. She’s always been… troubled.”

You gasp and pull away from your boss and your mind reels with this new information. Jonathan’s voice echoes within the walls of your mind, of his story of the woman he and Nancy had found last night after investigating the rats. 

Mrs. Waters frowns at your unexpected reaction and notices the fear on your face. “Dear, I’m sure my friend will be alright–”

“What…” your voice shakes, and you clear your throat. “What’s your friend’s name, Mrs. Waters?”

The old woman sighs, sensing there’s something more to your worry, but her heart hurts for her friend and she’s seen more in her almost seventy years than she’s ever wanted to. “Her name is Doris Driscoll.”

–

You’re sent home early after your conversation with Mrs. Waters. She had been too worried for her friend and saw how shaken up by it you seemed to be as well, so she patted your arm and dismissed you. 

“There’s no point keeping the store open today, Y/N. Go home to that cute boy of yours while I go visit an old friend.”

You had tried arguing with her, but even you knew it was no use. 

Biking to Starcourt, now more than ever worried about your job, you feel your birthday looming over you and the worries of Nancy’s involvement with rats and old women eating fertilizer mixed with Jonathan’s fears. 

This was supposed to be a good summer. 

Your head spins as you walk into the backdoor of Scoops Ahoy, finding Robin, Steve, and Dustin all circled around the table as they discuss how to enter the Russian storage room. 

“What? I sneak up behind, knock him out, and I take his keycard.” Steve is explaining when you walk in. He has his leg propped against the seat next to him as he twirls his sailor’s hat in his hand. “It’s easy.”

“Did you not hear the part about the massive gun?” Dustin blinks at the teen, having little faith in his confidence.

You make your way towards the group and lift Steve’s propped leg up so that you can sit before placing the leg across your lap. Feeling your touch, he looks up with surprise to see you, having expected your shift to end later in the day. “Y/N?”

“You’re not going near any Russian men with guns, Steve.” You say to him in lieu of a greeting.

Steve deflates in his seat. “That’s why I’d be sneaking.”

Dustin shares a look with you, the two of you remembering all the times Steve has tried, and failed, to win a fight. Clearing his throat, your brother crosses his arms and winks at you before turning to the teen. “Alright, please tell us this, and be honest. Have you ever actually… won a fight?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Okay, that was one time–”

“Twice, honey.” You interrupt him with a smile, enjoying this conversation maybe a little too much. “Jonathan, remember him?”

“Listen, that doesn’t count.”

“Oh, but it does.” You pinch Steve’s shin. “He kicked your ass, I was there.”

He winces and moves his legs off of you. “He didn’t kick my ass–”

“You got a fat lip, crooked nose, swollen eye.” Dustin adds on, leaning against your chair now as the two of you gang up on Steve. 

“He even pinned you at one point. I distinctly remember thinking he was going to kill you.” You say, smirking.

Steve scoffs. “Oh, you did not have any concern for me then–”

You hit his shoulder. “Yes I did! I’ve always been worried about you–”

“Can you guys not make everything about your weird relationship for like, three seconds, please?” Dustin whines as you and Steve start to bicker about something else entirely.

As the three of you argue, Robin seems to get an idea and runs out of the room. Noticing her sudden absence, you turn to Steve and frown. “What’s Robin up to?”

He stands up and sees her snatching money from the tip jar before running off. Steve calls after her, but she doesn’t slow down as she runs out of the shop. “What are you doing?”

“I need cash!” She says, as if that explains everything.

“Isn’t half of the tip money Steve’s?” You ask, now standing next to him by the register alongside Dustin.

“I’ll pay your boyfriend back later, Y/N.” Robin continues to walk towards the shop’s exit. “I’m going to find us a way into that room, a safe way, just like I promised you.”

You’re oddly touched that she remembered your insistence on keeping everyone safe. With a smile, you call across to her, “thank you!”

Robin blushes and forces herself to look away from you so that she can direct her attention to Steve. “In the meantime, sling ice cream, behave, and don’t get beat up. I’ll be back in a jiff!” 

As you and Steve watch Robin leave, the two of you turn and catch Dustin licking at one of the ice cream scoops. You whack him with the back of your hand and cringe at him. “Dude, what the hell?”

Dustin flinches away from you as Steve snatches the scoop from the boy with his own disgusted look. “Not my scooper, man.”

“Why are you like this?” You ask your brother with disappointment in your voice, to which he huffs at. 

“I’m a curious person.” You scoff at Dustin and he rolls his eyes at you before making his way out from behind the ice cream counter. “If I’m going to be judged, then I’m going to the arcade while we wait for whatever Robin has planned.”

He’s gone without another word, leaving you alone with Steve.

It’s still early in the day and there’s only a few customers in Scoops Ahoy, so it’s just you and Steve. It’s the first time you’ve been alone together since last night, when you’d been standing in front of him, begging him to listen to you, and all he could do was watch you silently with pain in his own eyes. 

As if coming to this realization himself, Steve coughs and rocks back and forth awkwardly. He knows you told him this morning that everything was okay between you two, but things still feel off. Despite your best efforts, he can tell that you’re still struggling to seem okay with the whole Russian debacle. You’re still frail looking, unsure and anxious, and Steve hates that he’s the reason why. 

Hesitantly, he reaches for your hand. “Care to, uh. Join me in the backroom?”

You raise your eyebrows at his question. “Are you propositioning me, Harrington?”

“No!” His eyes widen in fear and his voice squeaks, which only embarasses him more. He clears his throat and tries to swallow down his dread. “I mean, not like that. I figured we could, you know… talk.”

Now it’s your turn to fill with dread. He’s seen through you, despite your best efforts to try and appease everyone. Squeezing his hand, you nod at Steve and allow him to guide you into the backroom. 

Steve pulls a chair out from the table and sits down, and before you can process what’s happening, he pulls you down and into his lap. You throw your arms around his neck to steady yourself at the sudden movement, which only makes Steve’s proud smile widen. “You planned that, didn’t you?”

“Sure did, angel.”

You laugh and shake your head at him, tightening your arms around his neck and settling into his lap. He rests his hands on your thighs and stares at you with such warmth, such patience, content to simply have you here with him. Despite the uncertainty that seems to now loom over the two of you, there’s still a certainty within it. There’s still a trust that accompanies the hesitancy, and it’s this trust that caresses your cheek and coaxes you to speak. 

“I don’t like what we’re doing, Steve.” You confess to him, making your words as plain as possible so that nothing gets misconstrued; too often your words have gotten lost in translation.

Steve nods slightly, his eyes never leave yours, and he listens. “I get that, I do, and I’m sorry if I ever made you feel bad about standing your ground. It’s just… I wanted to go along with Dustin, pretend for a few days that I’m not some moron who couldn’t get into college, you know?”

“You’re not an idiot,” you fix a piece of Steve’s hair that has fallen out of his sailor’s hat and sigh. “But there’s more to this than just my stupid need to protect everyone.”

“Did something else happen?” 

You hesitate, unsure if what’s been on your mind holds any real weight, or if you’re just being paranoid now after everything you’ve been through these last few years. Biting your lip, you decide that it’s Steve you’re telling this to. Paranoid or not, he’ll listen and try to help you piece it all together as well. He always does. “A few days ago I saw Billy stumbling on the side of the road. He was… bleeding.”

Steve’s eyes harden at the teen’s name and instinctively his grip on you tightens. “Did he do anything to you?”

“No,” you breathe out sharply, remembering how disoriented Billy had been. He was in no condition to cause you any harm, which in itself frightened you. “There was something off about him, Steve. I–I can’t explain it, but a day before I saw Billy, I had been with Will and he was almost similar to Billy, I guess? He just–he was frozen, staring off into space, until I got his attention again.”

“Why do I feel like there’s something else you’re not telling me?”

You sigh. “Because there is. There’s always something else in the fucking town.” Anger begins to rise within you and you force yourself to swallow it down. Now isn’t the time for the anger that always simmers just below the surface, waiting. “I talked to Jonathan last night. He’s been with Nancy investigating rabid rats and an old woman who was caught eating her fertilizer.”

“Christ,” Steve exhales with bewilderment.

“And now Russians in Hawkins? What are the odds of this all happening within the same week?”

“Do you…” Looking around, Steve lowers his voice. “Do you think it’s happening again?”

“I don’t think so, El told us she closed the gate, but… I can’t explain any of this, either.” You feel helpless, and you hate it. There’s something you’re missing, there’s something connecting it all, and yet you’re going in circles. 

It all can’t just be a coincidence, and it’s a horrible, maddening feeling. 

And Steve tries to absolve you from it. “We’ll figure it out, together. You and me, even if you want to kill me by the time we’re done, I promise you that I’ll help you–” The phone starts to ring, cutting Steve off, and he sighs. Patting your thighs, he silently asks you to get up so that he can answer it.

Lazily walking over to the ringing phone, Steve picks it up with slight annoyance. “Scoops Ahoy, this is Steve.” There’s a feminine voice on the other line, which he frowns at, before handing the phone to you. “It’s for you?”

Surprised, you stand up and take the phone, unsure who would be calling for you at the ice cream shop. “Hello?”

“Y/N, it’s me. Um, hi.” 

“Nancy?”

“I–uh, I called your job and this older lady told me you’d be at Scoops Ahoy? I needed someone to talk to, and I–I just,” She clears her throat, and it’s only now that you notice the exhaustion in her voice and how thick it sounds from dried up tears. “You know what? This is weird, I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry–”

“Hey, no.” You fumble with the telephone cord and desperately wish you were with Nancy right now. After what Jonathan told you last night, you feel horrible for the girl, and from the sound of it, she needs someone there for her right now. “Talk to me, Nance. What happened?”

You hear her inhale a shaky breath, always the first to try and disguise any upset and hurt she may be feeling for the sake of others. She takes another deep breath, exhales slowly, and then begins to talk. “Jonathan and I had a fight.”

She tells you everything, from Mrs. Driscoll and the rats to Tom firing them for falsely identifying as reporters. It’s everything Jonathan told you last night, all his worst fears come true, except Nancy also tells you what he told her this morning. How condescending he had been, how he had reminded her of how poor he is, how he belittled her need to figure everything out herself. 

“He kept defending all those assholes, Y/N.” More tears lace within Nancy’s voice. “He wouldn’t listen to me. He just kept repeating over and over again about how he needed the job, as if it wasn’t the single more humiliating thing I’ve ever had to endure.”

There’s so much you want to say, but you’re afraid it will only come out wrong. “I can’t imagine what you had to go through, Nance. I know those men were horrible to you, but you understand where Jonathan is coming from, right?”

“I mean, I thought I did, but,” she sniffs, her voice is soft and defeated. “I’m not so sure anymore. It feels like we can’t understand each other, like we’re physically incapable of seeing eye to eye. I know he has to provide for his family, I–I love that he takes care of them, that he always does what’s right, and yet it infuriates me sometimes.”

You can’t help but chuckle at what Nancy has said. She sounds so much like Jonathan in this moment, reminiscent of him telling you that her ambition is what he loves about her, and here she is saying his integrity is what she loves about him. “God, you two and your pride; you sound just like Jonathan. He said practically the same thing about you last night–”

“Jonathan talked to you about this?” Nancy’s voice becomes cold, defensive, and you know you’ve just said the wrong thing.

“Well, I mean,” you frantically try to alleviate the situation. “He only wanted advice, that’s all.”

Nancy scoffs, and you feel your heart drop. “So he can tell you all about how he feels, but bottles it up when it comes to his girlfriend?”

Well, fuck. 

“He was scared and overwhelmed.” You try to keep your voice neutral, not wanting the girl to assume you’re on anyone’s side. “It’s a difficult situation, and he came to me for help just like you are right now.”

Jealousy claws at Nancy suddenly, it clashes against the hurt within her. Jonathan went to you, as he’s always done, he sought solace in you for the emotions within him that he still has yet to share with her. It reminds her, then, just how little she knows about him still. How many years stretch between you and Nancy when it comes to Jonathan. 

“I’m sure you know all about how he feels,” she says bitterly, unable to stop herself. “The two of you understand one another.”

You sense that there’s something important with what she’s just said. The words were said with a history behind them, an insecurity that you cannot compensate for, and you feel defenseless against Nancy. “He was hurt, and so are you–”

“God, I should’ve known you’d take his side! I mean, you two always do this. I’m such an idiot.”

Panic begins to surround you. “Nancy, I’m not taking anyone’s side, just please listen to me–”

The line goes dead as Nancy hangs up. 

Numb, you place the phone back on the wall and stare blankly at it. The pressure of tears presses against your eyes and you try to steady your breathing. You’ve hurt Nancy, you’ve caused a rift between you that threatens to collapse into a chasm, and you don’t know what to do.

Steve sees that you’re fighting back tears and he tugs you against his chest. His embrace soothes you, but when he asks what happened, all you can do is shake your head, too overwhelmed to speak. There’s too much to explain, a history between you and Jonathan that you know Steve accepts, and yet now you’re terrified you’ll somehow hurt him like you’ve hurt Nancy. 

“I’m sorry, angel.”

Neither of you are sure what Steve is apologizing for, but it’s enough for now. 

So much for an easy summer.

– 

“It is fascinating what twenty bucks will get you at the County Recorder’s Office.” Robin places a giant sheet of paper onto the table. On it are lines and shapes all drawn in blue with an intricate layout. You lean in close to inspect it as Robin continues explaining. “Starcourt Mall, the complete blueprints.” 

Dustin praises her idea and you hesitantly agree; you would’ve never thought of asking for the mall’s blueprints. “You’ve got my attention.”

She smiles and starts to explain her plan. “This is us, Scoops,” her fingers trace over the paper as she guides you and the boys through the blueprint. “And this is where we want to get.”

“I don’t really see a way in.” Steve points out, now sitting at the table with an arm wrapped around you. 

“There’s not,” Robin casts the top blueprint aside and reveals another one underneath. It’s similar in design, although this one lacks more shapes and is mostly lines. “If you’re talking exclusively about doors.”

You squint at the drawings, trying to figure out what they remind you of. “Are those…”

“Air ducts!” Dustin finishes for you, impressed with Robin’s idea.

“Safe, practical, and wouldn’t involve guns.” Turning to the girl, you nod at her and wink. “Buckley, you really keep your promises.”

Robin bows playfully. “Turns out, this secret room needs air just like any old room, and these air ducts,” she grabs a marker from the whiteboard and circles Scoops on the blueprints before drawing a winding line down to the hidden vault and circling it as well. “Lead all the way here.”

The four of you all look up at the vent above you, and while the idea seems like the safest option, you can’t help but wonder how horribly wrong it could go as well. You’ve never had the best luck, not when it comes to Hawkins, and the air ducts seem almost too easy of a solution to trust. 

Steve finds a screwdriver in one of the shop’s drawers and takes apart the air vent with Dustin’s help. You stand next to Robin and watch with slight weariness, unsure where to go from here. Once Steve has removed the vent, he shines a flashlight inside and winces. 

“I don’t know, guys. It’s a tight fit.”

“I can do it,” you step forward. “Can’t be that bad, right?”

Steve looks down at you from the ladder. “This feels like a trap.”

“Move, Harrington.” Once he’s off the ladder, you climb up yourself. When you look into the vent, your heart drops. It is a tight fit, there’s no way you’ll be able to crawl through it. Defeated, you climb down the ladder. “Well, shit.”

“I’ll fit.” Dustin now speaks up.

“No you will not.”

He rolls his eyes at you. “No collar bones, remember?” 

“Excuse me?” Robin has never been more confused in her life.

Steve begins to explain Dustin’s medical condition while you continue arguing with your brother. “I’m not letting you do this!”

“You got the healthy genes while I got the rare genetic condition, Y/N.” Dustin starts to climb up the ladder as you tug at his shirt to try and stop him. “Let me abuse it!”

“But–”

Steve places a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll handle this, Y/N.”

You step back, hoping that he’ll talk some sense into your brother, but to your horror he only makes things worse. Dustin starts to climb into the vent with Steve below him, but he gets stuck about halfway in. “Steve, push me!”

The teen looks at you, unsure what the right call here is. “Do I…?”

“Yeah, just push the kid.” You rub your eyes, tired. “He’s already almost in the damn air duct anyways.” 

Steve pushes at Dustin’s feet to help him move further, but he’s quickly berated. “Not my feet, dumbass. Push my ass!”

“What?” You and Steve exclaim at the same time. 

“Touch my butt, I don’t care!” Dustin’s screeching voice is muffled from the walls of the vent.

Looking at you one last time, Steve sighs heavily and places his hands on your brother’s butt and starts to shove him deeper into the air duct. He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, shoving the butt of the brother of the girl he’s in love with. You stand next to Robin, mortified of what you’re currently witnessing, endlessly ashamed of the two boys. 

The two boys argue, Dustin commanding Steve to push him harder as the teen tries his best to shove the kid, and Robin leans over to you. “Remind me, why are you into Harrington again?”

All you can do is sigh at her question, having no good answer as you watch Steve now manhandle Dustin and scream back insults at him. 

They look ridiculous. 

“Ahoy, sailors!” Someone rings the register’s bell impatiently. “All hands on deck!”

You and Robin turn to find Erica standing at the register as she repeatedly rings the bell and demands her daily free samples. You’re about to respond to her when you see Robin raise her eyebrows; it’s clear she’s thought of something. 

“Would… Erica fit in the vent?”

Your hand snatches at Robin’s arm as you pull her away from the shop’s window. “Absolutely not. We’re not getting Erica involved!”

“C’mon, Y/N. She’s small, she could easily fit–”

“She’s ten.” She’s too young. You’ve always regretted that Dustin and the party were twelve when everything began. 

You’ll be damned if you ruin another child’s life. 

But Robin doesn’t know any of this, and she ignores you as she runs to the register and recruits Erica before you can stop her. Within a minute you have a very curious Erica Sinclair climbing the ladder up to the vent as she shines a flashlight through it. 

You stand below her, helpless. 

“Yeah, I don’t know.” She climbs down after a few minutes of studying the vent’s dimensions. 

“You don’t know if you can fit?” Dustin asks. 

Erica leans against the table and studies the four of you with distaste. “Oh, I can fit. I just don’t know if I want to.”

“Are you claustrophobic?” Robin teases her, but you only feel sympathy for the girl. 

You step towards Erica, trying one last time to reason with her. “You don’t have to do this, you know. You can back down now, no one will blame you. In fact, I will give you all my allowance if you say no.”

Dustin elbows you roughly to get you to shut up, he knows what you’re trying to do. You glare at him and rub your now tender shoulder. When you look towards Steve and Robin for backup, both teens send you pleading glances similar to the ones from last night.

Once again, you’re the odd man out. 

None of this is what you want.

“I don’t have phobias,” Erica informs Robin. Then, she turns to you, “and no one tells me what to do.”

Steve crosses his arms. “Okay, well. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is, I still haven’t heard what’s in this for Erica.”

Ten minutes later, you’re sitting in a booth with the others as Steve slides Erica a freshly made sundae. 

“More fudge, please.” She requests, pleased she’s won.

Steve looks at you, already fed up with the kid, and you feel no sympathy for him. “Go on, get the girl her bribery fudge. This is what you wanted.”

He cringes at the sarcasm in your voice and knows you’re once again pissed at him. Defeated, he hangs his head low and leaves to get Erica more fudge without another word. Once he’s gone, Robin opens up her blueprints and shows the girl the air ducts. “You see this? This is the route you’re going to take.”

You sit there quietly as Dustin and Robin talk to Erica. After they’ve explained the entire plan, she mentions that this all sounds like child endangerment. You let out an exhausted chuckle. “It does, doesn’t it? Isn’t that just hilarious to think about?”

Robin tries to reassure both you and Erica. “We’ll be in radio contact with you the whole time–” 

“Ah, ah, ah!” Erica waves a finger in Robin’s face, unamused. “Child. Endangerment.”

“It’s a shame only you can see that.” You drop your head onto the table, entirely over the situation. “I mean, how can only the ten year old see how insane this is, huh?”

Dustin throws a straw at you and shushes you, annoyed with your theatrics. Clearing his throat, he turns to Erica. “We think these Russians want to do harm to our country.”

“Unconfirmed, actually.” You retort. With every passing minute, it becomes more and more evident that this really is happening, and there’s no way you can back out now; someone sane has to be there to protect everyone. Dustin and the others all seem deluded by the idea of fame and adventure, but all you want to do is keep your loved ones safe. 

“Shut up,” Dustin shoves you further away from him as he tries to win over Erica’s agreement. “Great harm. Don’t you love your country?”

“You can’t spell ‘America’ without ‘Erica’.” She takes a sip from her drink, now listening.

You lift your head up from the table and share a baffled look with Dustin, both of you going through how to spell America in your heads. Amazingly, Erica is right. You really can’t spell the word without her name. 

“Incredible,” you whisper, in complete disbelief. 

Dustin shakes his head. “Uh, yeah. Oddly, that’s–uh, totally true… So, don’t do this for us. Do it for your country. Do it for your fellow man, for America – Erica.”

After your brother’s speech, Erica puts down her drink and mocks him, still not entirely sold on the whole child endangerment idea. Instead, she goes on a whole spiel about how she loves capitalism and paying people for their services while you sit there, head pounding with a headache. 

“And it seems to me,” Erica concludes with a smile, “my ability to fit into that little vent is very, very valuable to you all. So, you want my help? This USS Butterscotch better be the first of many. I’m talking free ice cream for life.”

Robin and Dustin mirror exasperated expressions on their faces, but honestly? You get a kick out of Erica recognizing her worth; she’s brilliant. Without saying anything, you lift your hand up for Erica to high five, which she happily accepts. 

“To child endangerment!” You cheer, your voice oozing sarcasm, and Erica follows suit as Robin and Dustin both slump in their seats. 

– 

It’s your idea to prep Erica for whatever she may find after crawling through the ducts. You shoved a helmet on her head and forced knee pads onto the girl, which she adamantly protested against. 

“This is excessive, even for you.”

You held up money, which promptly shut her up. “Wear the protection and do exactly as I say, or lose $5.”

After she took the money, you then held out your switchblade for her to take as well. “And use this if anything happens, alright?”

Erica had stared at you, slightly surprised. “Why do you carry knives on you?”

“Ask questions later.”

Now you’re anxiously waiting on the mall’s rooftop once more with Dustin, Steve, and Robin as you radio Erica for updates.

“You nerds in position or what?” Her voice drones through the walkie’s speaker.

“Yeah, we’re in position.” Robin confirms. The three of you have been scouting the shipment deck for the last thirty minutes, making sure all the possible Russian guards were gone. “It’s all quiet up here, so you’ve got the green light.”

You take the walkie from Robin. “But be careful, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Be careful and green light, roger that. Commence Operation Child Endangerment.”

Robin snatches the walkie back and cringes at what Erica has said. “Can we maybe not call it that?” 

“That's exactly what’s happening here.” You say with a snort. 

“Thanks for the help, Y/N.”

You give Robin a thumbs up. “Anytime.”

Erica announces that she’s in the air ducts and you feel the familiar burden of fear creep through you as she now goes quiet. Steve’s hand finds yours and he attempts to ease your discomfort as you all wait. “Erica will be fine, Y/N.”

“Yeah, totally!” Robin tries to reassure you as well, though she looks nervous too.

The minutes drag by at an agonizingly slow pace. The three of you hold your breath, waiting for Erica’s assurance that she’s safe and okay, and you pray to whatever god that’s up there to listen and keep her safe. 

If anything happens to her, it would only be your fault for not having learned your lesson sooner. 

“Alright, nerds.” You let out a breath of relief when Erica radios again, and you can feel Steve exhale as well. He’d been worried, too. “I’m there.”

“Do you see anything?” Robin asks, voice alight with excitement now. 

“Yeah, I see those boring boxes you’re so excited about.” 

“Any guards?”

Erica pauses a moment, presumably scanning for any signs of danger, before responding. “Negative.”

You breathe out again with relief. At the very least, Erica is in a safe enough location. 

However, Robin isn’t done asking questions yet. “Booby traps?”

“If I could see them, they’d be pretty shit traps, wouldn’t they?”

You grab the radio again from Robin. “Erica, have I told you that you’re my favorite child?”

“You haven’t, but I know I am,” there’s a bang over the other end of the walkie, then a loud thud followed by a grunt, before her voice comes through again. “I’m in.” Then, not even a minute later, the door to the vault begins to lift up, revealing a smug looking Erica on the other side. 

You all stare at her in awe, and she snaps her fingers at you. “Free ice cream for life.”

Steve lets out a surprised laugh and a smile crosses your face as well. Even though you’re still entirely against what’s happening, you can’t believe that the plan worked. You guys successfully broke into a Russian vault. 

That beats Demodogs any day. 

You, Steve, Robin, and Dustin climb down from the roof to get to Erica as fast as you can. When you finally join her, you risk her fury and pull her into your arms for a hug. “You’re so much braver than I was at ten.”

Erica shoves you off of her. “That doesn’t at all surprise me.” 

While you make sure she’s okay, Dustin and the others investigate the room. There’s boxes everywhere with tape all over them. Lifting one up onto a table, Steve turns to you. “Can I borrow that switchblade, Y/N?”

“She’s got it,” you point to Erica. “Talk to the kid.”

Steve frowns, having unexpected this, and, being scared of the girl, he laughs nervously. “Uh, Erica? Can I have that switchblade now?”

She rolls his eyes at him and digs through her pockets to retrieve it. “Aren’t you the man in the relationship? Why don’t you have your own pair of knives?”

You cover your mouth to try and stifle the laugh that escapes you, but it’s no use. Steve hears it and sticks his middle finger up at you before finally opening the box. Cutting through the tape, he opens the box’s flaps to find a metal storage container within them.

When Steve reaches his hand inside the box, you stop him. “Please, be careful.”

“I got this, angel.” However, he slows his movements and carefully grabs at the container’s handle. Slowly, he turns it, and it lets out a terrifying hiss as air escapes it. Removing the lid, more air comes crawling out and reveals four individual cylinders.

“Definitely not delicious noodles and sensible shoes.” You breathe out, and Steve hums in agreement.

“That’s a weird way of saying ‘you were right, Dustin’.” Your brother snarks, and you hit his shoulder to shut him up.

Meanwhile, Steve waves his hand at the four of you, motioning you to back up. “Uh, maybe you guys should, you know, stand back.”

Robin and Erica don’t hesitate to listen, but you and Dustin remain where you are. There’s a silent agreement between the two of you to not abandon Steve, he needs you. When he sees that you both haven’t listened, Steve pleads with you. “Just step back, please? I’m doing this for you guys, this could be dangerous.”

“No.” You and Dustin say at the same time. 

Steve tries to argue again, but you remain firm in your stance. “I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

His words falter at the sincerity in your voice, and he wishes it was just the two of you alone right now so that he could stroke your cheek and kiss away your concerns. He’s filled with warmth by your care for him, but just like you would never put him in danger, Steve would never put you in any danger either. 

He loves you with everything within him, he just wishes he could tell you this. 

“If you die, I die.” Dustin proudly declares, breaking Steve out of his thoughts. 

You stare at your brother, as does Steve, and together the two of you awkwardly pat the kid’s shoulder to acknowledge his sentiment. With a cough, you add, “Hendersons with Harrington.”

Steve clears his throat, overwhelmed and slightly off put by the bizarre support. “Okay, I guess.” He grabs at one of the cylinders and twists slowly, and when it unlocks, he lifts and reveals a bubbling green liquid. “What the hell?”

Robin asks what the substance is and you feel like you’ve lost your mind. You have no idea what the fuck is happening anymore. “God I hope it’s scary Kool-Aid”

As soon as the words have left your mouth, you feel rumbling beneath your feet. 

Immediately, you know you’ve fucked up.

Dustin looks up at you in alarm. “Was that just me, or did the room move?”

“Booby traps,” Erica whispers, looking scared as well.

A mechanical whirring sound infiltrates your ears as the room starts to shake again, and every part of your body screams at you to run. Something is very, very wrong. Grabbing Dustin’s hand, you start to head towards the door. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Let’s go!” Robin follows you, not needing to be told twice, and grabs one of the vials of liquid as she does so. 

“Which one is the button, Erica?” Dustin asks, fingers hovering over the control panel’s buttons after pressing one failed.

“Just press the damn button, nerd.”

You turn to her, panic rising. “He is, but nothing’s happening.”

“Press ‘open door’.”

Dustin presses the button again but still, nothing happens. Frantic to escape the room now, you shove him aside and try yourself. Your fingers press roughly against it, but still the doors won’t budge. 

Steve joins, sliding next to you as he starts to try pressing the buttons. “Here, press the other button.”

You slap his hand. You’re overwhelmed and scared and anxious and he’s five seconds away from losing an eye. “I already did that!”

Dustin starts to argue with Steve now and they push you back, repeatedly hitting whatever they can touch, as Robin and Erica shout their own useless and unneeded advice that is helping absolutely no one. You stand behind the boys, hands pressed against your head as you start to hyperventilate with panic.

Then, walls come slamming down on all sides of the room, effectively kick starting your panic attack. The lights begin to flicker as the room suddenly drops. Your stomach lurches into your throat as you’re thrown downward, and instinctively you grab for Dustin in your panic as Steve grabs for you. 

Everyone screams as you plunge into the darkness.

-

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[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Eddie was sitting at the picnic table at Forest Hills, staring at a stain in the wood as he tried to make a decision. It required proper, serious thinking, he knew, but no matter how hard he thought about it or how serious, he couldn't seem to make a decision.

"Ha-ha!" Eddie said and pulled out a coin. "This always works."

He closed his eyes, holding the coin tightly in his hand as he thought about his choices. Steve or Chrissy. Chrissy or Steve. Steve or Chrissy. Heads for Steve because of his hair and tails for Chrissy because of her ponytail. Eddie opened his eyes and let out a breath. He flipped the coin and watched it sail through the air before falling onto the table.

"WHAT - HOW?!"

The coin was standing up on its edge, neither on heads or tails. Eddie stared at it in amazement for a moment before picking it up again. He closed his eyes, let out a breath, and opened his eyes. Steve or Chrissy. Heads or Tails. He flipped the coin. It landed on the edge again.

"What the FUCK is happening?!"

Eddie sighed in annoyance. He stood up, pacing back and forth. He grabbed the coin. Surely, it couldn't happen a third time. He flipped the coin, and it landed on the table. . .ON THE FUCKING EDGE AGAIN!

"Oh, come ON!"

Eddie slapped his face, trying to wake himself up. This can't be happening. No, there were definitely forces at work here. Maybe this place was haunted by what happened with Chrissy here and the fact that she almost died. Okay, one more time. Eddie huffed and flipped the coin.

"JESUS H CHRIST!"

"At what point does this stop being funny?" Max grinned.

"Never," Erica replied. "It never stops being funny."

El giggled, wiping her bloody nose. The three girls were staring out the window in Max's trailer, watching Eddie getting frustrated.

"This is what he gets for eating the last cookie that Uncle Wayne made," Max said, laughing. "That was supposed to be for me and he fucking knew it."

"What decision do you think he's making?" Erica said.

"I have no fucking clue."

Meanwhile. . .Eddie slammed the coin on the table. Fuck it. The universe was telling him it was okay to choose both so both it fucking is. He smoothed down his vest and ran his fingers through his hair. He scurried over to Wayne's garden and grabbed some flowers. He fisted them both in his hands and ran off towards the van.

"Boy!" Wayne yelled as he popped his head out of the trailer, and Eddie skidded to a stop, turning around.

"Hey, can I borrow these?" Eddie asked.

"Well, you already pulled them out of the ground, so, yeah," Wayne said.

"Hey, by the way, purely hypothetical question. . .how do you ask two people out at the same time?" Eddie asked.

"Well, I suppose it's not much different than asking one person out," he said. "Just gotta be honest and direct. Steve and Chrissy?"

Eddie scoffed and stuttered incoherently before sighing.

"Yeah."

"Good luck."

"Thanks!"

He silently thanked the mysterious force that led him to the decision and drove off.

[feral-ballad]

Erica Jong, ed. by Kate Rogers and Viki Holmes, from Not a Muse: The Inner Lives of Women: A World Poetry Anthology; "The death of the goddesses"

[Text ID: “A woman punishing herself with her own pain / is a fierce opponent indeed. / It is self against self, dagger to dagger, / blood of her blood, / blood of her daughter, blood of her mother, / her menses, her moon, all pooled together, one crimson sea.”]

[thehopefulquotes]

True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.

Erica Jong

[perfectquote]

Advice is what we ask for when we already know the answer but wish we didn’t.

Erica Jong

[bikkinibottom]

I’ll see you soon in paradise

percabeth | words: 9.2k | for @pjoseries

summary: When Percy goes on a jog one summer day, he runs into a familiar girl sitting by a creek. He’s never been sure of soulmates before but one thing he’s sure of is that he might be a little bit in love.

///

Percy is tired.

The run he is currently on is absolutely wiping him out and it’s really warm outside and he definitely regrets quitting swimming his sophomore year of college. But he knows he needs to like, get off his butt and out of the house otherwise his mom would give him an earful.

He’s taking a different route today, up in the suburbs where it's not so crowded and loud as the city. He sees the end of the forest preserve up ahead of him, with a bridge that leads into the other part of town. Percy decides to begin his cool down now, coming to a light jog until he’s eventually walking.

He notices the wooden bridge up ahead is built over a creek and he can hear the faint sound of running water. As he gets closer he notices a girl sitting along the side of the bridge, her feet dangling over the side and her back toward him. There’s no railing. She isn’t really moving or anything and it concerns Percy a little bit.

“Hey! You okay over there?” Percy calls out to her. Her back stiffens and she slowly turns her head around. Her expression is one of bewilderment but Percy can’t help but stop in his tracks when he sees her whole face.

read the rest here on ao3

[sundrop-writes]

you were nice to me and acknowledged my existence so i hope you know that means you’ve unknowingly asked for all my dumbass, hyper-specific 12AM bullshit thoughts.

you can turn this into a mini blurb or teen wolf pack headcanon - whatever works for you, but who do you think in the pack is would be into you wearing a necklace (or any form of jewelry really) with their name/initial on it? are they buying it for you or is it something you would have to initiate, do they want one too with your name/initial on it?

i know it’s not everyone’s thing but i think it can be really adorable 🥰

if this isn’t your vibe just let me know, no biggie ����

This is absolutely my vibe!!! I love this prompt so much omg. Also, I love it when people come to me with their random 12am bullshit - whether it's just to rant in my inbox about fictional characters or to suggest fic ideas. This is what Tumblr inboxes are for

My requests for Teen Wolf are open!! Just make sure to read my rules first!!

What would the pack think of you wearing a necklace that represents them?

A/N: I changed it from an initial to a representative symbol, partially because of a tiktok that Star sent me the other day of someone selling Teen Wolf necklaces in an Etsy shop that I can't stop thinking about and I want one so badly, and partially because I think Derek's tattoo would make a really amazing necklace.

Warnings: descriptions of canon level violence, I tried to make the reader as gender neutral as possible (please let me know if I messed up anywhere on that), Isaac's low self eesteem due to his father's abuse, mentions of Jackson x Lydia, references to sex (but nothing descriptively smutty), I think that's it.

Includes: Derek Hale, Isaac Lahey, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Erica Reyes (I got tired while writing this so that's all the characters we have lmao)

Derek would love it. It would be his idea - he would be the one to give you the necklace.

He met you shortly before becoming an Alpha, and you were the defining member of his pack. You were the first person he had bitten in order to turn them - you had been bleeding out outside of the Hale house after Peter had stuck his claws through your stomach, sensing Derek's attachment to you (even if it was something that Derek himself hesitated to admit), and he had called Derek weak for taking a liking to you. So the moment after Derek had slashed Peter's throat open, making him the Alpha, he had used his new found power to bite you, ultimately saving your life.

You were someone he had once viewed as his weakness, but he had come to realize that you were his ultimate strength. You showed him how to interact with Erica, Isaac, and Boyd with kindness and understanding, you showed him how to harness his Alpha power with more than just the anger he harboured inside. You showed him love - something his isolated heart hadn't felt in years.

To him, the triskele tattoo on his back represented the three forms of a wolf could take - the powerful, leading Alpha, the following Beta, and isolated, weak Omega. It represents how a wolf can rise to power, but he can also fall to weakness if he's not careful.

When he gave you a necklace with that same symbol as its pendant, he explained to you why it was so important to him that you wear it.

"You have helped me rise to my full potential." He told you, pinning the clasp behind your neck. "Every time I look at this around your neck, I want to be reminded of that. I want to be reminded not to fall to anything less." He kissed the base of your neck, causing you to break into a large smile as his thick, warm arms wrapped around you from behind. "I need to be reminded to serve you a good, loyal Alpha every single day. Not to fall back into my former weaknesses."

"I thought I was your weakness?"

"No. You're my strength."

Isaac would be unsure about it. And it most definitely was not his idea.

It started with you and Lydia hanging out before a lacrosse game - the two of you were getting ready in her room, and while she finished up her makeup, she said 'oh!' as if suddenly remembering something, and then went to her jewellery box. You looked on in curiosity as she pulled out a necklace, and when you squinted closer, you saw that it was a silver pendant with the number 37 on it.

"What's that?" You asked.

"It's Jackson's jersey number." She told you. "It's good luck for a player's girlfriend to wear his jersey number, and I didn't want some big ugly jacket with the numbers written on the back."

It made you wonder if you should wear Isaac's jersey number to the game, even though the two of you had been playing around with dating, not exactly official. Isaac was hesitant on PDA and labels. Lydia encouraged you, though, and she ended up using a red lipstick to write his number 14 on your cheek, making you look like a crazed fan - but everybody at the game already knew who you were there for.

Before the next game, Lydia gifted you with a necklace similarly to her own, with the promise that she wouldn't have to freeze her ass off in the stands alone - and to her, it was like the two of you had matching best friend necklaces, representing the lugheads that you cheered for on the field together. At first, you only wore it to games. But then you found comfort in wearing it all the time.

Isaac, of course, took notice of this - his eyes easily magnetized to the number 14 glimmering on the silver chain around your neck.

He felt like he didn't deserve to have a mark on you. He was undeserving of claiming you, undeserving of being called your 'boyfriend'. He was worthless, and you wearing something that represented some kind of serious relationship between the two of you - why did you want him? Why?

After a long, tiring night of talking, some tears, and eventually some kissing - he finally understood. And from then on, he was more than proud to have his 14 constantly shining around your neck.

Scott would love it. But it would be your idea.

The two of you had to date in secret - your family had a loyalty, an alignment with the Argents, so you couldn't be seen with Scott in public, creating a deep frustration between the two of you when you couldn't hold hands in the hallways or go on 'real' dates like other couples could. Scott expressed a deep frustration at loving you, being your boyfriend, but not getting to be yours twenty-four seven like he wanted to, and that's what caused you to come up with the idea.

You got a silver heart locket necklace, and inside, put a picture of the two of you. Well - it was a piece of the picture of the two of you. You grabbed a photo of the two of you kissing, and cut out the space that had formed between your necks when your lips came together in a kiss - to anybody else (most important, if your family saw it) it would have looked like a photo of blank sky. But you and Scott were the only two people in the world who knew what the photo truly was.

And you gave him the rest of the photo with the missing heart shape cut out between the two of you so that he could be reminded of your next words every single time he looked at it.

"The space between us isn't what matters." You told him firmly, pointing to the space you had cut out of the photo. "No matter how big that space gets, we always know how much we love each other. We'll always have each other."

From then on, every single time he looked at the silver heart dangling around your neck, it was something he remembered with a smile. No matter how far the two of you had to be apart, no matter for how long - your love kept you together.

Stiles would absolutely love it. It would be his idea.

Stiles would be incredibly shy and shitting his pants nervous about asking you to wear his numbers, but the week before, you had asked him to be your boyfriend after a roaring success of a first date that he had no clue how he landed with you. His first game as a first linger was coming up, and he felt like things could only go up from here.

He had you, he was first line, so - he steadied his courage as he tightly gripped the black velvet box that had the shiny gold necklace in it, praying that this wouldn't be too much, too soon. Praying that he wasn't going to scare you off.

"Um, hey." He greeted you at your locker, a ball of nervous energy that had you giving him a questioning eyebrow.

"Good morning." You smiled at him, wondering why he was acting so strange. You leaned in and kissed him on the lips - a light, chaste kiss in greeting, and he felt himself nearly knocked over by the joy of it.

This was really real. He had you.

"What's that?" You asked, motioning toward the box in his hands.

"Oh, uh - a gift." He said. "For you."

"Stiles, you didn't have to. It's not my birthday or anything."

"I know." He said. "I want to - to do something special. To celebrate you being mine."

An intense wave of butterflies overtook you at this, and you look on in awe as he opened the box, presenting the necklace to you.

"It's - um - it's my jersey number. Ya know - 24. Just - it's a thing that people usually do, wearing their boyfriend's number... and I - am I being too weird? I'm sorry." He went off rambling the longer that you didn't speak, and you quickly raised a hand to his wrist, trying to calm him with a soothing touch there.

"I love it." You assured him with a smile. "Thank you. I can't wait to wear it."

"I could... help you put it on now?"

You nodded enthusiastically, and he excitedly grabbed it out of the box.

From then on, you never took it off. You were more than proud to be his, and proud to show it off by wearing the necklace.

Erica would fucking love it, but it wouldn't really be intentional on either of your behalves.

One thing Erica never expected about becoming a werewolf - how possessive it would make her. But being able to smell when someone had touched you, being able to hear how hard your heart pounded when you were scared or anxious - it made her want to rip apart anybody who even looked at you the wrong way. The two of you weren't even officially dating. Your friendship always crossed weird lines - you were the only person who was kind to her when she was an outcast, and after she transformed, you were the only person she knew for certain didn't just want her for her body.

The sex between the two of you was amazing, but you never talked about feelings.

One night in the haste of undressing, she dropped a necklace on your floor - a nameplate necklace that her parents had gotten for her birthday a few years ago. You didn't want to forget to bring it back to her, and you thought it was funny, a kind of joke - so you put it on. You thought nothing of having the name 'Erica' dangling around your neck in bold silver letters.

When Erica saw it - it drove all of her wolfish instincts insane. Seeing her claim on you, her name literally written across you - it took everything she had in her not to throw you across a table in the middle of the library and fuck your brains out, then and there.

And she saw the way other people reacted to it too. The way guys would go to flirt with you, but then their eyes would dart down to the necklace and then look to her, as if finally noticing her presence glaring at them, telling them to back off - and then they would scatter in fear. It was the first time in weeks that the two of you actually had peace.

So she implored you to keep it. She loved having a silent little claim on you. After all, wolves love claiming their territory, right?

...

Teen Wolf Masterlist

[sleepsunawareof]

Just wanted to say thanks for the likes and reblogs and comments on the Loki fic/drabble I posted the other day! I was really scared to write and share something because it's been literally forever. I thought I'd maybe get a few reads and likes but I've gotten over 100 already 😱 which to some on here is probably absolutely jack shit but to me it's WAY more than expected so thanks again ya'll.

So, maybe I should I write more stories then? 😅

[spooksalotnoel]

The geek squad, and why MBAV had so much potential

For most of you this show hasn't been in your mind since you were 10-12. But for the ones who have rewatched this show recently, you will totally understand. I couldn't count on my fingers how many times I've seen this show. When I first watched this show I didn't even know there was a movie. Typically coming into shows like this, without context of the movie the show doesn't make sense. In this case, I watched the show 5 times before noticing the movie, yes, the added information of the movie really ties into the show, but it's still watchable without it. My Babysitter's a Vampire had so much potential it actually makes me sad. As far as rewatching it recently, that final episode is brutal without closure. I don't think I'd be able to watch a reboot if that was even a possibility. The original cast has such great chemistry and on top of that there's just the 2000's flare to it.

It sucks to see one of my favorite shows growing up lose everything. The fandom is also so extremely small due to its cancellation. But here's everything this show did right.

Casting, I think every actor incapsulates their characters greatly! They play their roles as 14–15-year-olds great and I think they display the awkward teen-age phase well. Every character is pretty likeable.

Soundtrack, the music directors/music compositors on this show put a lot of detail into their work. And mostly all of the songs were made exactly for this show.

Setting/environment, having the setting the way it is makes the show have such an amazing environment!

Overall, it's a bummer to see a show like this taken for granted. And it's also been taken off of Netflix, so I am especially hurt. I really hope there are still people who enjoy this show!

[thoughtkick]

True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.

Erica Jong

[quotefeeling]

True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.

Erica Jong