#stranger things bots

[voidsuites]

WINTER BOT RELEASE !!! (12/6/24) ⌢⠀ ❄️ .ᐟ

art and patrick ・゜゜・．black friday busts. after the two of them were unsuccessful in snagging an extremely-discounted flat-screen for their room in the frat house, art and patrick have yet to stop reminding you of that fact with all of their moping and whining. however, you've managed to get your hands on one— only god knows the lengths you went through to get it— and you're all-too-happy to make both boys' christmas even more special than they'd expected. if only they knew how to reward your kindness and sacrifice...

michael berzatto ・゜゜・．a bear-able holiday. christmas is here once again, carmy's finally home from copenhagen, and mikey's taking it upon himself to play mediator between him and you because heaven forbid his two youngest siblings get along for one night... even if he's still a bit annoyed at carmy for leaving. he's the eldest and the man of the house; someone's gotta make sure their whole christmas dinner doesn't fall apart before food even reaches the dinner table.

richie jerimovich ・゜゜・．precious cargo. it's practically common knowledge that spending the holidays at with the berzattos is bound to end in disarray— donna alone's a ticking time bomb, and there's always someone running their mouth that leads to arguments and fights— but richie's on high alert now that he and you are expecting and you're due within the next few months. he'd almost stuck arould to help mikey calm down after his altercation with lee, but donna driving her sedan through the living room wall changed all of that. he can't have you stressed; not if it means risking baby eva and your health.

steve harrington ・゜゜・．sweater weather. it's finally snowing outside, hawkins is decorated from top-to-bottom with decorations, and steve's taken it upon himself to steal you away for the day to see all the lights... if he can manage to wrangle you away from dustin first). but of course you're quick to freeze, and that just won't do. if it takes him loaning you a sweater and holding your hands the entire time to keep them warm, then that's just what he's going to have to do (and he'd do it happily).

got a request? go ahead and leave em here :) THANK YOU GUYS SO SO MUCH FOR FOR 6K! so ready for christmas, cold weather, fall quarter ending... the holidays never cease to be magical and i really do love this time of year. always thinking of what i'm grateful for and for all of the wonderful people in my life. so mushy (i know) but i just can't help it! lol enjoy these bots... need to get started on my gladiator ii ones ASAP those men have been living rent-free in my head for too long. love u guys sm!!!!!

FYI: this is a part 1 of my winter release; hoping to do a post for steve and for bruce soon! also c.ai shadowbanned my bruce wayne/selina kyle bots so i am going to try and troubleshoot that in the coming days. thank you so much for being patient with me guys i really appreciate it :)

[bluestrd]

★ bluestrd's first bot release ! ★

⊳ stranger things + the bear ⊲

enjoy, these are 90% christmas themed <3

⊳ stranger things

✿ favorite present ◟ eddie munson ; in which you and eddie are celebrating your first christmas together in his trailer ◟ fem user !

✿ last minute ◟ steve harrington ; in which steve had to work late at scoops ahoy and had to fight for his life at starcourt to get you a gift ◟ fem!henderson user !

✿ first meeting ◟ jonathan byers ; in which you're meeting will and joyce for the first time for a christmas dinner ◟ fem user ! ╰┈ ✿ meet cute ◟ jonathan byers ; in which you meet jonathan in california, all thanks to argyle ◟ fem user ! ⧽ (au! where jonathan and nancy broke up when he moved to california. sorry jancy truthers)

✿ father's daughter ◟ jim hopper ; in which you've been pining for your dad's attention ever since jane was adopted ◟ fem!daughter user ⧽ (inspired by @voidsuites 'teenage delinquency' bot) ╰┈ ✿ back in your arms ◟ jim hopper ; in which hopper returns from russia, mostly safe and sound ◟ fem user ! ⧽ (au! where the Byers didn't move to California)

⊳ the bear

✿ christmas done right ◟ michael berzatto ; in which mikey finally experiences what christmas should be like ◟ fem user!

✿ christmases when you were mine ◟ richie jerimovich ; in which richie realizes he definitely misses you ◟ fem user !

✿ family recipe ◟ carmen berzatto ; in which you and carmen attempt to make mikey's spaghetti recipe ◟ fem user !

જ⁀➴ requests are open ! please send me some :D

જ⁀➴ this is my first ever bot release so please tell me if i need to fix something or if my bots are acting weird !

જ⁀➴ bot release layout inspo taken from @.faiszt ◟ divider from @.strangergraphics-archive

જ⁀➴ i know these are all fem users but i promise i will get better and more confident at writing for gender neutral !

[silverflirts]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ hi there, i'm nina! i'm a twenty-two latina college student that's super into writing! i really enjoy making these bots so i thought i'd share them in the case that anyone else might find them cool too :) reqs are open !!!

links: c.ai profile / request form / ask box / botlist / navigation .

[fvshionstvrs]

C.AI BOTS

~~~~~~~~~~~

OUTERBANKS

| ▪︎ JJ MAYBANK

𝒔𝒑𝒂 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

*JJ Has just came home from work to the shared apartment you both share thinking he'll be able to get some rest, but you have something different in mind*

| ▪︎ KIARA CARRERA

'𝒎𝒚 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .[𝒘𝒍𝒘]

*you're too busy talking to JJ to notice her during the group hangout at the rooftop. she's jealous.*

| ▪︎ SARAH CAMERON

𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒚° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .[𝒘𝒍𝒘]

*Sarah gets told about a halloween party and she knew she'd have to beg you to come. she bought the costumes and you both went to the party, it doesn't take long until her anxiety kicks in.*

| ▪︎ RAFE CAMERON

𝑩𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓° ᡣ𐭩 . ° .

*You're Sarah's best friend, your in her room waiting for her too come home. That's when her brother Rafe walks in, pissed off. he goes to shout at Sarah but then notices you in the room*

HARRY POTTER

| ▪︎ DRACO LUCIUS MALFOY

ᥫ𝑰 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆᭡๋࣭ ⭑⚝

*You and Draco are bestfriends, yes. a Malfoy and a Potter. You got put in slytherin unlike your brother though, which made you and Draco friends. He loves to break into your dorm in the night.*

| ▪︎ HERMIONE GRANGER

ᥫ𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒔᭡๋࣭⭑⚝[𝒘𝒍𝒘]

*God its hard dating a Griffindor as a Slytherin, even worse when your Dracos sister. You both hate eachother in public, but in closed doors? oh your so much more.*

STRANGER THINGS

| ▪︎ Max Mayfeild

⋅˚₊‧𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅‧₊˚ ⋅ [𝒘𝒍𝒘]

*you and Max used to know eachother, you were bestfriends. that's until Max moved away, you thought you'd never see her again. That's until you moved due to your parents divorce and got signed to a new school.*

| ▪︎ Steve Harrington

⋅˚₊‧𝒔𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒅𝒂𝒚‧₊˚ ⋅

*you look outside and see the crystallised snow falling from the sky, leaving thick layers on the pavement. you ran and begged Steve to come out and create snow angels with you.*

[stevesgother]

Chalkboard Hearts - S.H

Pairing - KindergartenTeacher!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 4.3k

Contains - strangers to friends to lovers, slowburn, so much fluff, teacher!steve and mom!reader. No descriptions are given of reader or abbey, other than that abbey has curly hair, steve and reader are the same age (about 24-25), set early-mid 90's

AN - i don’t write for kids often so i hope this reads well and is realistic. i don’t have a clear end for this series in mind, so i’m gonna keep writing it for as long as y’all want it :) feel free to send requests for blurbs for this AU if you so wish and as always, thank you - emma

“Moooooom,”

You hear a tiny voice whisper in your ear. Most mornings started this way, if not all of them. Whoever said getting children out of bed in the morning was difficult had clearly never met Abbey. Every day you peeled your tired eyes open to see the miniature version of them staring back at you, the only difference being they were much wider, and lacking the distinct fog of leftover sleep.

Today her hair was sticking up in all different directions; frizzy curls here and tangled knots there. Your daughter takes after you in many ways, one being that she’s an active sleeper and it shows when she wakes up. Her bed was always disheveled; embroidered blankets strewn across her bedroom floor and little red lines indented in her cheeks where they had been smushed against her pillow.

“Mornin’ Ab,” you say, voice gravelly with disuse. “Have you made your bed yet?” you eye her suspiciously.

You know she hasn’t and she confirms as much when she spins on her heel and dashes for her room down the hall. Truthfully, you couldn’t care less if her bed was made or not, it was merely a guise to buy you a few extra minutes of peace and quiet each morning.

︵୨୧︵

When she doesn’t reappear, you assume she’s gotten distracted and decide to make your way downstairs to scrounge for something to eat. You never ate breakfast before you had Abbey; either for lack of time or because the smell of food so early in the morning made you nauseous. Eating three meals a day was just one bullet point on the long, running list of changes in your routine since becoming a mother.

Two bowls of Frosted Flakes were set out on the table after deciding there was no time for anything more nutritious.

“Abbey!” You call, “Breakfast!” 

You hear the sounds of sniffling and small feet padding on hardwood as she enters the kitchen– pouting. You try not to gape at the utter monstrosity of an outfit she's put on. She whines, “I don’t know what I want to wear!”

You sense a meltdown coming already, on today of all days. Pre-school was easy, as Abbey was a fairly agreeable kid. Or at least she used to be. Lately it felt like you had to battle her about anything and everything. 

“You look so beautiful, Ab!” you reassure her, attempting to deescalate the impending tantrum. She has on pink corduroy pants and a frilly forest green blouse. For accessories she’s sporting a chunky plastic necklace that definitely came with a dress-up kit, along with a tutu. You have no idea where the tutu came from.

Eventually she decides not to fight you, at least not on her outfit. However, as she climbs into the kitchen chair, she scowls down at the soggy cereal in front of her and asks in the most darling tone she can muster,

“Can I have Scooby fruit snacks instead?”

“How about I pack some in your lunchbox today and you can eat them at snack time?” you try to barter.

Sneaking a glance at the clock, it mocks you with its unforgiving hands– you’re going to be late and your daughter will have skipped supposedly the most important meal of the day. Some mother you are.

“But I want them right now!” Her petite fists bang against the wooden table and she’s a heap of dramatics wriggling in her chair.

“Hey, what did we talk about? Yelling is not nice, even when we’re frustrated. Right?” She acknowledges you with a teary nod along with more crying and petulant moaning that can be heard as you run to the bathroom and grab a hairbrush with two bows. When you return, she’s still moping over her breakfast, but taking bites nonetheless. A win is a win.

You begin detangling the mess of knots and snarls at the back of her head. “Ouch, Mommy!” she cries when you try to comb through a particularly tangled section.

You place one of your hands over the crown of her head like a claw in a poor attempt at keeping her from squirming, “The more you move the longer it takes, sweetheart,” 

“Hmph.” she pouts, folding her arms over her chest. When all is said and done, your daughter has her hair parted and tied into two high pigtails, secured with little pink bows, and you’re rushing her out of the front door with haste.

︵୨୧︵

In all the hubbub, you realize you’ve barely gotten yourself ready. Reaching over to buckle Abbey into her carseat, she asks,

“When can I sit up front with you?”

“When you’re this many,” You hold out both your hands to display all ten fingers.

She mimics you with her own smaller fingers, “Ten?”

“That’s right!” You smack a kiss on the crown of her head as you pull back, she smells like her strawberry scented shampoo.

“Watch your feetsies,” you warn and she tucks her legs unnecessarily far into her chest as you close the door. 

The ride is filled with the usual nonsensical ramblings of a five-year-old. She beams back at you through the rearview mirror, eyes sparkling and nodding fervently when you ask if she’s excited to make some new friends today. Your social butterfly, the complete antithesis of you. 

The elementary school is only a few miles from your home, and before you know it you’re circling a crowded parking lot and preparing to drop your only child off for her first day of kindergarten. The rush of emotions you feel are indecipherable, something like a mix of somberness, excitement, relief, and anxiety.

As you walk towards the front of the building, you’re surrounded by dozens of kids aged five through twelve greeting their teachers and saying ‘Hello’ to friends they haven’t seen all summer. The teachers are holding laminated signs that indicate their name and what grade they teach; thank God for that. Abbey’s little fist squeezes around your index finger and you can tell she’s becoming nervous, despite her previous unbridled anticipation.

“Hey, it’s okay,” You assure, “Look, I think that’s your teacher right there,” you point towards a tall, brunette man standing near the double doors.

A shy smile tugs at the corners of her lips when she sees the teacher in question. He’s dressed in a striped button-down shirt and khakis, with a lanyard dangling from his front pocket; the typical teacher attire.The sign he’s holding reads, ‘Mr. Harrington’ and just below that, ‘Kindergarten’ with a little cartoon apple printed next to his name. He looks young compared to the rest of the staff, closer to your own age. This must be his first year teaching.

As you approach him, Abbey treks in front, eager to meet him. Her backpack is adorned with sparkly butterflies and it covers nearly her entire torso; bumping the backs of her knees with every step she takes.

The man crouches down to her level and greets her, “Hey there,” he offers a warm smile, “what’s your name?”

“Abbey,” she says timidly, twiddling her fingers and flashing a toothy grin at him. She doesn’t bother with her last name, honestly you’re not positive that she even knows it.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Abbey,” he holds a gentle hand out for her to shake and she does so hesitantly, “My name’s Mr. Harrington, and I’m going to be your teacher this year. How does that sound?” The way he’s so patient and attentive with her stirs something within you that you haven’t felt in years, but he’s a teacher, for goodness sake. He looks up then, locking eyes with you and rising back to his full height.

This time, it’s your turn to shake his hand. “I’m Steve.”  He flashes you a smile directly out of a Colgate ad and you hope you’re not blushing as much as you feel like you are.

You must look nervous because he immediately assures you that Abbey’s in good hands this year. “We’re having an open house tonight, I hope to see you both there,”

You glance at your daughter, “What’d you think, Ab? That sound fun?”

“Yes!” She squeals and almost falls over from the weight of her backpack.

“Okay then,” With that, you crouch down to give Abbey one final hug. It’s clear that she’s itching to go socialize with the other kids, so you try not to delay her with your sappiness.

“Be good today, okay?” you give her a tight squeeze and a smacking kiss on her little cheek, “I’ll be back to get you at two-forty-five.”

“What will the clock say?” She asks inquisitively. Her favorite question.

“It’ll say ‘two-four-five’,” She nods in understanding, “But I bet you’ll be having so much fun that you won’t even remember to look.”

She’s already on her way to the door when she calls, “Love you, mommy!” and blows you a kiss with her lips puckered. You blow her one back and fight the tears threatening to surface. When did she get so big?

A pang of insecurity settles in your chest when you chance a look around and see all the children accompanied by two parents. You begin the walk back to your sedan before the thought has a chance to fester.

︵୨୧︵

Six hours goes by alarmingly fast when it’s spent running around your house in a frenzy, trying to catch up on all the cleaning you aren’t able to do when there’s a rampant five-year-old on the loose, making a brand new mess where you just cleaned an old one.

Before you can even register the time has passed, it's two o’clock and you need to pick Abbey up in a mere forty five minutes. Looking around your house, you feel satisfied with the progress you were able to make on tidying and call it a day.

This time, you decide to try and appear more presentable before visiting the school, and firmly remind yourself that it has nothing to do with how flustered your daughter’s kindergarten teacher makes you. By the time you’re dressed and have pulled your hair up into a halfway decent top knot; it’s time to go.

︵୨୧︵

The line for pickup wraps around the front of the building, aided by crossing guards and supervised by a few teachers. Twenty minutes into waiting, you regret not having gotten here a little sooner. ‘Tomorrow’ you think. Soon, you catch sight of two little pigtails bobbing up and down as your Abbey skips over to you, grinning ear to ear while Steve watches from the doors she just exited.

“Mommy!” she shouts as she bounds towards you. You place the car in park and run around to greet her.

“Hi, Bug!” you exclaim as you bend at the waist to pick her up. She gives you a tight squeeze around the neck, and you catch a split second of Steve’s gaze over her shoulder before he’s disappearing back inside the school

Plopping her as gently as possible into her carseat and fastening the straps over her chest, her mouth is already moving a mile a minute– absolutely ecstatic to tell you all about the activities she got up to while you were gone.

“What is ‘open house’ ?” she asks, kicking her feet like she can’t possibly contain all the excitement inside her little body.

“It’s just a chance for all the mommies and daddies to meet your teachers,” you explain, “And you get to show me around your new school, fun right?”

Her face lights up like a christmas tree at the prospect, “Are we gonna go?!”

“Yes, but first we have to eat dinner. What sounds good?”

Without missing a beat, she yells a little too loudly, “McDonalds!”

You want to say yes, of course you do, but your shifts at the ER barely cover the minimum of your living expenses. Your resolve begins to crumble, however, when she looks at you with those saucer-round eyes, and her bottom lip juts out in the most precious pout. Who knew she could be so harmlessly manipulative?

“I don’t know, Ab. I think we have some chicken nuggets in the freezer at home, though,” you say, with an air of hopefulness that she might accept the compromise.

“Not the same,” she whines, “Please, Mommy! I’ll be extra extra good please–”

And with that, it’s over.

“Okay! Okay, fine,” you feign annoyance through a smile, “We’ll stop on the way home,”

You can still hear her squeals of excitement when you close the door and walk around to the driver's seat.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey dresses a little more cohesively for the open house than she did this morning. This time she’s clad in a thrifted pair of overalls overtop a little purple blouse. She leads you, hand in hand, inside the school like she knows exactly where she’s going– despite only having spent six hours here.

Steve’s classroom looks exactly how you’d expect. The walls are a light, mint green and it’s as if a character from Sesame Street threw up all over it. Abbey leads you to a reading nook in the corner of the room, surrounded by books and complete with several bean bag chairs, and proclaims this is her favorite spot. She shows you where her desk is– right in the very front of the classroom– and on it, a laminated sticker with her first and last name sits neatly near the top. The walls are lined with colorful letters in alphabetical order, accompanied with numbers just underneath them.

“Abbey!” you hear a familiar voice call, “I’m glad you and your mom could make it!” turning to you then, “I’m actually not sure I ever caught your name,” he chuckles awkwardly, clearly embarrassed by the fact that he doesn’t know it yet.

“Oh, it’s–” and before you get the chance to tell him, Abbey pipes up and tells him your first and last name with a confidence that she certainly didn’t have when it came to her own introduction this morning. You’re relieved that she feels so comfortable around him already.

He repeats your name back to you and holds out his hand for you to shake, “It’s nice to meet you,” You pay no mind to the way your heart beats a little faster in its cage at the sound of your name on his lips. His palm is surprisingly soft when you grasp it in your own.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you grant him a polite smile, “Abbey could not stop talking about you on the way home,” you pinch her side, teasing, and she giggles in that contagious way that kids do.

“Is that so?” he feigns surprise when he looks at her.

“Nooo!” her giggles amplify as she becomes increasingly bashful.

He crouches down to meet her at eye-level, exactly like he did this morning, “Well, that’s a shame, because I think you might be one of my favorite students,”

Now, she’s a heap of laughter and has a blush spreading from the apple of her cheeks to the tips of her ears. You can’t help but feel enamored by how great he is with children, silently wondering if he comes from a big family, or if he has a child of his own.

“Did you introduce your mom to Nibbles?” he asks her when her laughing mostly subsides.

She gasps like she can’t believe she would’ve forgotten such a thing, then she hauls you by the arm over to a tiny cage on a table, presumably for an even tinier animal.

“Mommy, look! This is Nibbles,” She’s peering between the metal bars of the enclosure and encouraging you to do the same, when you lean in closer you see a small, tan gerbil sleeping in a little nest of bedding.

“He’s our friend and he helps us learn, so we have to be very careful with him,” she tells you with a sudden seriousness that's amusing to see displayed on such a young face. It’s obvious she’s parroting Steve.

You turn to see Steve observing from a few feet behind you, both hands shoved in his pockets, “I didn’t think teachers actually had class pets,” you breathe a huff of laughter.

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckles with you, “I brought him from home, actually. Figured he could use some socialization. With dozens of children.” he informs you sarcastically. God, he’s funny too.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you to be a hamster guy,” you tease.

“He’s a gerbil, first of all,”

“Right, sorry, my bad,” you smirk.

“No time for a dog, I guess,” he shrugs, “thought I could use the company,” he’s clearly still bantering, but there’s an underlying melancholy in his tone that you can’t quite place. Before you can think about it for longer than a second, an impatient five-year-old is tugging on your arm and begging to show you the library.

“Okay, alright,” you laugh, “better get to it, the library awaits,” you shoot him an apologetic look for having cut the conversation short. You feel less guilty, however, when you see more parents and children start to funnel into the classroom, busying him in yours and Abbey’s absence.

“See ya, “ he waves. 

“Bye, Mr. Harrington!” Abbey yells, already halfway down the hall. 

︵୨୧︵

In the library you have to shush Abbey several times, much to her dismay.

“We use our inside voices in the library, Ab,” you remind her for the fifth time. She frowns but it’s temporary when she spots her favorite section: the picture books. Abbey is ahead of a kindergarten reading level now, and it's one of her favorite hobbies, but you can still never go wrong with a good picture book.

You’re about to follow her when you hear someone call your name. 

You turn, “Stephanie?” you ask, puzzled.

“Oh my gosh! It’s been forever!” an old friend from your shared high school, Stephanie, pulls you into an unreciprocated bear hug. Squeezing and swaying back and forth for an awkward amount of time.

“Hey,” you draw out the last syllable and try to paint your voice with a nostalgic excitement, “How have you been?” you ask, even though you’re sure you’d rather be shot than continue this conversation.

You don’t know if you could really call Stephanie a ‘friend’, or if you ever could. The only reason she even knew your name being the shared, piranha-esq social circle you both ran in years ago. She reminded you of your past– who you used to be– someone who you’re not particularly proud of.

“Oh, I've been just fine!” She gestures wildly with manicured nails. Her lips are overlined and her hair is still damaged from bleaching and too many perms. Evidently, not a lot has changed. You ponder if she’s still the mean girl she always was underneath all that makeup, or if at some point in your adolescence she decided to mature.

“Todd and I just bought a house over on Maplewood, are you familiar?”

“Oh, no, not really– my daughter and I live across town,” You don’t like how ashamed you feel, “I’ve heard it’s beautiful over there, though,” you attempt to smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“That was your daughter?” She’s trying not to sound taken aback and failing, “With–?”

“Yes,” Your teeth grit ever so slightly. You hate that she won’t say his name, as if speaking it into existence would somehow break you. Like you’re fragile.

“I was terribly sorry to hear about what happened, Hon,” Her sudden sympathetic tone irritates you, whether it’s genuine or not. You don’t need pity, especially not from Stephanie Nettles.

“It’s okay, Steph, really,” losing patience by the second, nothing about it was okay. “It was a long time ago, Abbey and I are doing fine,” you assure her.

“Oh,” she fawns as she presses her bony hands against her chest above her heart, “Can I meet her? Would you mind?" Her tone is saccharine sweet. You figure it can’t hurt, but when you turn around to retrieve Abbey, she’s not where you left her. The spot on the rug that she was previously occupying is empty and her book is abandoned on the floor.

“Abbey?!” Calling a little too loudly for the setting you’re in but you can’t bring yourself to care. You search row after row, it’s not a big library, and after every shelf you’re expecting her to be there– browsing novels and you’ll feel silly for overreacting.

But that doesn’t happen, and you realize with mild panic that she definitely left the library; somehow without you noticing. You suppose this is the safest place for her to go missing, but the thought doesn’t soothe you for long as you still have no idea where your daughter could be.

Stephanie is staring at you with concern, but still making no effort to help you locate Abbey. You don’t speak and neither does she as you rush out of the room and begin to pace the halls, still calling out for her. You check the bathrooms by the gym, a couple of empty classrooms that aren’t locked– she’s not there either.

When you’ve checked every available room and potential hiding spot in the near vicinity and still see no trace of her, that’s when the real dread sets in. What if she’d wandered outside and been taken? Or worse, there had been an accident and she’s hurt? She could be miles from here by now, she could be–

“I think this might belong to you,” a mellow voice rings out.

Steve and Abbey walk leisurely towards you, hand in hand. A complete contrast to the frazzled mess of anxiety you are right now. You hurl yourself in their direction and wrap Abbey up in a hug, lifting her off her feet.

“Oh my God, Abbey,” normally you’d be fuming at her for wandering off like that when you know that she knows better, but you can’t feel anything other than relief in the moment.

“Found her on the swings,” Steve continues, “Isn’t that right?”

Your relief does eventually morph to frustration, “You know better, Abbey Jane. Don’t stray off like that again. Do you understand?”

She succumbs to her guilt and you can tell her short-lived freedom has lost its novelty. “I’m sorry, mommy,” her little eyes well with tears. “The other kids were going to the swings, I wanted to go,” she pouts.

“We could’ve gone, baby, but you have to ask first, okay?”

Her meek response is muffled in the crook of your neck, “Okay,”

She’s still sniffling into your shoulder when you remember Steve is there, and your surroundings come back into focus.

“Thank you for finding her, Steve–”

“--His name is Mr. Harrington, mom,” she corrects like she can’t believe you’d embarrass her like that by calling her teacher the wrong name.

“--Mr. Harrington,” you stifle a laugh for your daughter's sake, sending him a knowing look.

He returns the expression, “Anytime,” he smiles, sweet . “Think that's enough scaring your mom for today, huh?”

Instead of acknowledging with words, she simply nods her head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.

“I think someones getting sleepy, might be time to head home,” you drag a gentle hand down her back soothingly.

“Will you carry me?” she asks too adorably to say no, despite her being ever-so-slightly too big for it. Grunting as you pick her up, you say, “Thanks, again,”

“No need,” he ruffles Abbey’s head lightly as you pass, “See you tomorrow, right?”

“See you,” her eyelids are heavy already. You make your way back to the car slowly but surely, arms growing more numb with every step.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey manages to bargain a bath out of you and four books before bedtime instead of the usual two. How you ever say no to her, you’re not sure. By the time you finally tuck her in, it's well past nine o’clock.

“Did you have a good day today?” You ask as you bend down to kiss her forehead.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington is my favorite teacher,” she proclaims drowsily.

“He’s your only teacher, Ab,” You snicker.

“But he’s still my favorite,” she replies in the same cadence one would say ‘Duh’.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to go to sleep super fast tonight so you can see him sooner, right?”

You can practically see the lightbulb turn on above her head like she’s just had a groundbreaking revelation and nods fervently. You tuck her in tight on both sides, and give her a kiss on each of her cheeks and once more to her forehead for good measure.

“Love you, Abbey girl,” you tell her on your way out, “Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, mommy,” she says wearily from underneath her princess bedsheets.

The door closes with a soft click and you make your way to the living room. You never had the chance to ask Stephanie what she was doing at the school– from what you knew, she didn’t have any children. Perhaps she was a teacher. It didn’t matter as long as you didn’t have to interact with her again.

As you lounged on your old sectional, you couldn't help your mind wandering back to thoughts of Steve. You wanted to know more about him. Where he came from, what made him want to work with kids, why he needed a gerbil to keep him company. Distantly, you imagined what he was like outside of an elementary school setting. You hoped one day you’d find out.

He was Abbey’s teacher, sure, but what was the harm in a little crush?

taglist - @soulxiez

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

[corrodedbisexual]

The ultimate tumblr experience 2k23.

[bunnyhoney111]

cult-leader!eddie munson x preachers daughter!reader brainrot.

this contains semi-dark content but nothing especially intense, it is filthy though, and way too long for an intro to my new faves but whatevs

*she is so pure, so sheltered, and so so curious when her father finally agrees to let her go to public school her senior year and she sees eddie munson and, in her fathers words, his cult of heathens. they, particularly eddie- the 'leader', weren't unfamiliar to her due to her father's disdain for the ruffians and his frequent sermons about how they were devil worshippers corrupting their town.

*most of her peers make jokes about her being an alien trying to learn to be human, copying the actions of those around her- the way they laugh, smiling to herself in class mimicking chrissy cunninghams toothy grin.

*she is just a girl learning to live amongst people outside of the walls of her fathers small catholic chapel in the outskirts of hawkins.

*she is frequently referred to as "creepy" or a right out sociopath by her peers for her sheltered, quiet, but observant body language- her eyes burning holes in the back of eddie munsons head every lunch period. she is aloof in every way one can be, growing up with no media influence and with no friends outside of her family and a small group of young children she taught in bible study.

*she follows eddie, barefoot and silent, to his dealing spot to watch him interact with his 'clients' from the tree-line. she copies the movements and facials of his female customers, who so clearly entice him.

*she begins to become enamoured with eddie, obsessed even. following behind him just far enough for him not to notice. any chance she could, 10 steps behind. peeking through his trailer windows at night after sneaking out, seeing him touch himself and feeling an unfamiliar pooling of wetness in her white untouched panties, squeezing her hand between her thighs to make it stop. she is so ashamed she confesses her sins.

when they finally came into contact with eachother, he was intrigued by the odd mannerisms and doe-eyes of the girl he'd heard of for years, only seen in passing at school.

he had bumped into her on his way to hellfire after school ended as she was heading toward the bathroom.

"oh shit," he leans down to pick up what he'd caused her to drop, a brown bible embossed with her name and a fountain pen, along with a history textbook, "i'm so sorry, i-"

when his eyes meet her face, it is paler than the rest if her body, her lips parted and eyes wide and unblinking in shock. she'd never heard his voice before then, coming face to face with her last confession. she began to sweat as she hurriedly grabbed the book and pen from him, murmuring out, "i'm sorry, eddie."

she makes a b-line for the door, turning to lean against the brick of the school holding her chest.

he is still stood in the middle of the hallway, feeling delirious after the experience with the preachers daughter.

that night he thinks back to her big eyes and parted lips and her innocence and the stark white dress she had worn and he wanted so badly to corrupt her, so badly to be the first to taint her innocence, to take her in front of his devotees watching the blood of her virtue mixing into the milky white of his climax, reassuring her it will be different next time.

he unbuckles his jeans and pulls the ripped denim and red and black tartan boxers down to his thighs, gripping his windowsill as he fists his cock to the thought of her, he opens his eyes and smirks to himself as he catches the awestruck face of the girl, standing outside his trailer, hand in her underwear, grinding onto her own fingers. he licks his lips as he watches her for a split second before meeting her eyes and shaking his head no- mouthing "stop." she does, removing her hand and tucking her arms firmly at her sides.

he closes his blinds and falls back onto his heels, head tilting towards the ceiling. a string of curses leave his mouth, his seed spilling into his hand as he pictures himself filling her unsullied womb.

send in requests for THEM.

[midnight--sadness]

Im sorry guys this is gonna be a rant lmao

I am geniunely disgusted that so mamy people are against byler and a byler kiss by using the excuse that they are "too young"

Like what????

So it cool for 12 yrs old Mike and El to fall in love and kiss and become endgame but not for Will and Mike?

Just say ur homophobic and shut tf up my god, these people comment under every post or edit of byler saying that we are delusional and that they are middle schoolers....bitch El had been out of the lab for a week when m*leven shippers decided that she belonged with Mike, my girl could barely form a single sentence

If two teen boys kissing and expressing their love makes u mad and yet kids younger than them pratically being promised to each other is normal, then u should rlly reavaluate ur priorities in life

Even in s3, when they are 14, it wouldnt be weird for Mike and Will to start to realize they have romantic feelings for each other, especially in a show like st that is a coming of age story and explores sexuality (Nancy's losing her virginity while her best friend is killed by a monster)

[clawsmiic]

ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ʙᴏᴛꜱ ᴅʀᴏᴘ

CW: Spicy... Kinda? (Sneaking into your room), Billy mention (Fake dating your enemies enemy)

✨ || Sneaking into your room [Steve Harrington]

✨ || Trying to ask out the smoothie girl [Steve Harrington]

✨ || Fake dating your enemies enemy [Steve Harrington]

✨ || Giving you a ride home [Steve Harrington]

🎸 || Showing love through unconventional means [Eddie Munson]

[bylertruth3r]

Mike Wheeler in a nutshell

[lit3rally-m1ke-whlr]

ngl i need them to post more stranger things content ( specifically byler) within the next month or so (heard that they read the final script so yay - Wait that means they know if byler is endgame 😭 I’m going to die the wait is killing me)

like idk some teaser or promo video or anything I feel myself losing interest and that’s freaking me out bc byler has been my life for like the last 2+ years how am I supposed to find a new hyper fixation now when nothing has given me that same level of excitement and agony ever since

[adankrivervalleynearyou]

stranger things as character ai pt. 4

fruity four because yeah

[stevesgother]

From Now On (Our Troubles Will Be Miles Away) I S.H

Pairing - Dad!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 1.5k

Summary - enjoy some christmas stevie with your toddler, and a special announcement… <3

AN - oops! It appears i can’t stop writing steve as a father. y’all can thank mady @skeltn for that one. 

With love- Emma

The soft, staticky sounds of Frank Sinatra’s ‘Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas’ emanate from the thrifted record player in the living room; drifting into the kitchen where you’re rolling cookie dough and wincing as your toddler tries to ‘help’ by adding way too much food coloring into the bowls of frosting.

Over the sounds of nostalgic Christmas tunes, you hear a small crash and the cursing of your husband as he attempts to wrap your eight foot tree in garland.

“You okay, honey?” You shout from where you stand at the counter.

A pause, “Yeah, I’m just–ugh these fuc–”

“Steve!--”

“Fudging lights–” he corrects, “they’re all tangled. I’ve been working at them for, like, twenty minutes,”

“Let me get these cookies in the oven, Ellie and I will come help,” you call back.

More grumbling can be heard echoing from the other room as your daughter, Eleanor, is rummaging through your small container of cookie cutters, eventually giving up and deciding that it would simply be easier to dump all of them out onto the floor.

Her pudgy little hands grab one that's shaped like santa in a sleigh as she declares,

 “I do this one,”

“Do you want mommy’s help or do you got it by yourself?”

She doesn’t respond but clumsily presses the stencil into the floured dough. It comes out a little wonky, but you don’t mind, you aren’t going for perfection. Steve will have eaten them all within the next few hours, anyway.

Speak of the devil, “How are my girls doin’?” he saunters over to you, slightly sweaty from the exertion of decorating the tree and presses a kiss to both yours and Ellie’s cheeks.

When he sees Eleanor’s handiwork, he gasps, “Ellie, baby, these are beautiful!” He fawns over the barely recognizable shapes on the baking sheet like they’re the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen in his whole life.

Ellie can tell he’s pleased with her and starts to giggle with her sticky hands over her mouth. You wisely chose a recipe that didn’t call for eggs, knowing your three-year-old was bound to ingest the raw dough at some point during the process.

Now that Steve’s in the room though, she conveniently decides she’s done helping and motions with her arms for her dad to pick her up. He does so without hesitation, even though she’s covered in frosting and flour, easily lifting her from where she stands in just an oversized tee on a step ladder against the cabinets.

“Let’s go get you cleaned up, huh? Give mommy a break,” he looks pleadingly to you, “Can you please try to untangle the lights while I’m gone?” And how could you say no when he looks so pretty and asks so nicely?

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

By the time you’re finally done unraveling and applying a mess of sparkly bulbs and shiny tinsel to your Christmas tree, Ellie comes barreling out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel wrapped around her and Steve hot on her tail. Miniature wet footprints mark a path from the bathroom door all the way to the couch, and it doesn’t take a scientist to figure out who the culprit is.

“Eleanor Rose!” He yells through gritted teeth, solely because he’s fighting a smile.

You laugh boisterously as you watch your grown husband chase after a toddler in an uncomfortable crouched position that looks ridiculous displayed on someone his size. It’s a sight for sore eyes.

“Hey! It’s not funny!” Now his feigned frustration is directed towards you, “Are you just gonna stand there and laugh or are you gonna help me catch this gremlin?!”

As it turns out, he doesn’t need help after all. When Ellie reaches the couch, she realizes she has nowhere left to turn and succumbs to a fit of giggles on the fluffy cushions. She’s red in the face and certainly not dry, but you can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed. Your couch might be a little soggy, your floor might be a little slippery, and Steve might be absolutely exhausted, but you don’t dare dream of your life looking any differently than this.

Steve’s playing Tickle Monster with Ellie when you realize she still needs her pajamas on.

“You wanna get her dressed or shall I?” You ask him over your daughter’s squealing.

“Oh, take her, please,” you can tell he’s teasing though. If you really wanted, Steve would let you lounge in your bathrobe all day– reading Cosmos and drinking iced tea while he took care of Ellie. He’s in his element when he’s spending time with her. Even when you were just silly teenagers in love, you’d never seen him so fulfilled as he is now.

That sentiment is the only reason why you don’t feel wracked with nerves over the news you’re about to deliver him.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Steve’s putting the last of the ornaments on the tree when Ellie reappears from her bedroom with a huge smile plastered to her face. She careens into his shins and he stumbles a little with the unexpected force.

“Hi, peanut!” He grunts a little when he picks her up. You follow suit, wearing the matching pajamas Steve had picked out at Sears for everyone last weekend.

“Did you get your jammies–?” His eyebrows knit together, puzzled, as he realizes he doesn’t recognize the top she has on as the one he bought for you all to wear tonight.

“Babe, why didn’t you put her in the–”

It's then that he catches the words printed on shirt in bold, pink letters,

‘Big Sister.’

Once the initial confusion passes, his eyes immediately well with tears and his features soften like butter.

“What? He asks in that quiet, wobbly voice you’d only ever heard him use a handful of times.

“Surprise,” you respond timidly with your hands out in an almost-shrug.

He sets Eleanor down as gently as he can while also rushing to your side. He embraces you so tight it nearly knocks the wind out of you. When he lets up, he still doesn’t let you go far as he cups your face in both of his warm hands.

“How long have you known?”

“A week or so,” you shrug.

“Baby, I can’t believe this!” his quiet, shocked demeanor quickly morphs into something more like excited giddiness and he’s practically jumping up and down now.

“Oh my God!” He picks Ellie up and swings her around by her armpits before smacking kisses all over her tiny face. You know she’s still a bit too young to properly comprehend the gravity of the announcement, but she’s just so happy because her dad’s so happy.

“Ellie Bear! Mommy’s having a baby!” He holds her by her torso and gives her a light shake, she just throws her head back and laughs, not a clue what’s got him so worked up. With her belly exposed, he blows a raspberry on the exposed skin.

You make your way back to his side and engulf them both in a hug. Your perfect little family of three, soon to be four, and you couldn’t be more content than you are in this moment.

◞◟·̩͙  ͜  ˳꣑୧ ͜  ◞◟·̩͙◟

Two hours and one Christmas TV special later, Ellie is snuggled tight to Steve’s chest, lost to slumber. It appears Steve’s not too far behind her as his head is rested against the back of the couch– mouth open and slightly snoring– comforted by his own personal weighted blanket.

“Stevie,” you whisper, giving him a gentle shake, “don’t fall asleep,”

“Jus’ resting my eyes, darlin’,”

You scoff, teasing, “Right,”

He looks down at the sleeping child nuzzled into him, and plants a barely there kiss to the crown of her head. He rises slowly, so as not to wake her, and you follow him to her room.

He sets her down atop the frilly pink comforter with a practised ease, she stirs only slightly, and covers her up with a Disney Princess blanket that was previously splayed at the end of the mattress. You take turns giving her featherlight kisses and wishing her ‘sweet dreams’ even though you know she can’t hear you.

You and Steve are hand in hand as you tiptoe out of her room and close the door with a soft click, giggling like children.

Outside her door, he presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Then to each cheek. Then to your mouth.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you,” he whispers back, “more than anything,”

“Wanna call it a night?”

“Can we make out first?”

You gasp in faux disapprovement as you smack a loving hand against his chest and he fakes a wince for dramatic effect. Always the drama queen, your Steve.

“Keep it in your pants, Big Boy,”

“Don’t call me that,” he tries to sound stern and fails.

“You love it,” you smirk.

You squeal when he grabs you behind your knees and hoists you up and over his shoulders.

“Quiet, baby. You’re gonna wake up our baby,” he scolds through a giggle. You pinch his butt in retaliation.

“Okay, that’s it. Off to bed with you,”

The next hour is spent in bed with your best friend– hushed laughs and languid kisses and skin caressing skin before you both drift off into a peaceful sleep; holding each other close like you always have.

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

[gryficowa]

Boycott!

Bruh

Now that I have your attention:

------------------------------------------------------

It was just my reaction, some bots have been bothering me for some time now…

But don't skip the fundraisers!

[starport-rodeo]

i love my roommate <3

[pluralbyler]

will crying when he gets teased too much breathe if you agree