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solarmorrigan · 9 months

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(Slight disclaimer: I haven't seen S2 in almost a year and parts of it are hazy, so if some details here seem repetitive/don't quite match up... don't worry about it, I love you <3)

cw: anxiety, mentions of past child abuse

Steve had not, for the record, wanted to spend his Saturday tromping around by the stream in the woods searching for tadpoles. He’d wanted to go to the movies, or maybe get lunch, or even just hang out, but Dustin had insisted, and now Steve is slopping through the muddy grass and trying to figure out if there’s any way he can get them home without getting the inside of his car filthy.

(Probably not.)

It’s not that he’s opposed to getting his hands dirty when he needs to, it’s just that hunting for baby frogs doesn’t seem like a need to Steve, no matter what Dustin says. He probably shouldn’t be such a pushover for the kid, but– Steve’s actually a little worried about him.

He’s been in a nasty mood for the last couple of weeks, alternating between snappish and sullen, throwing biting comments at Steve that go beyond his usual know-it-all lilt, or else going silent and only shrugging when Steve tries to ask him questions.

And Steve’s trying not to take it personally; they’d hung out a lot through the winter and on into the new spring, and he knows Dustin isn’t normally like this, and he doesn’t think it’s anything he’s done (Dustin keeps seeking him out, so it’s probably not him), but it’s definitely something. So when Dustin had actually suggested something for them to do, had actually seemed excited about it, Steve had been hard pressed to say no.

Even if it meant mud.

“Hey,” Steve calls as Dustin pulls ahead of him to start climbing down the embankment that pens in the stream. “Watch it, alright? It’s slippery.”

“I know what I’m doing, Steve,” Dustin snaps, and Steve can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

“Fine, sorry for giving a shit if you break your leg or something,” Steve mutters, beginning the precarious trip down the embankment himself. “You don’t have to bite my head off.”

Dustin sighs. “Whatever.”

Steve shakes his head. He really hopes this isn’t just the start of puberty, or something. He doesn’t think he can handle another four or five years of this attitude.

(He doesn’t even question it anymore, the assumption that he’ll be around as Dustin continues growing up; it just seems like kind of a given.)

“So what are we doing here, again?” Steve asks when they reach the stream.

“I told you: we’re looking for tadpoles.” Dustin tosses a glance at Steve. “Baby frogs.”

“Yeah, dude, I know what a tadpole is, I did actually pass second grade science,” Steve snarks back. “Why are we looking for them, though?”

“I need them for school. For a science project,” Dustin says, peeling off to start looking in the shallow edges of the stream.

“Right…” Steve moves off in the opposite direction, looking for the shape of a thing he remembers seeing in a science textbook probably too many years ago.

They search in silence for a little bit, nothing but the sound of the woods and babble of water between them, but Steve keeps half his attention on Dustin even as he looks. If the kid falls in the stream and drowns, Claudia will never forgive him. He twitches a little when he watches Dustin skid over a rocky patch on the bank, but he finds his footing quickly enough, so Steve keeps his mouth shut.

“You’re not gonna, like, experiment on these things, are you?” Steve asks idly, finally tiring of the silence.

“Of course not!” Dustin exclaims. “I’m just gonna study ‘em. I’ll give them a good home and everything!”

“Alright, alright.” Steve holds up his hands in surrender. “Just checking that it’s not going to end up like the last time you brought in something weird from outside.”

Dustin stops walking, going quiet for a long moment, and when he turns around Steve is startled to see that he looks pissed.

“I’m not actually an idiot, Steve!” he barks. “I can tell the difference between a frog and some kind of alien monster!”

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t–”

“It’s not like I saw D’art and thought he was anything from around here!” Dustin goes on, stalking back towards Steve. “I didn’t think he was just some kind of fucked up frog! I knew he was something different, there was scientific merit in wanting to study him, and I’m sick of everyone acting like it was just some stupid mistake!”

“I didn’t mean to– Careful!”

Steve has no time to do much more than shout a warning and throw out a useless hand as Dustin goes skidding back over the slick, rocky patch, then slips and goes down hard, catching himself on his hands and one knee.

“Shit, Henderson, are you okay?” Steve is kneeling in front of Dustin in a blink, already searching for visible injuries; he’s probably fine, it hadn’t looked like he’d hit anything vital on the way down, but it couldn’t hurt to just check.

Dustin doesn’t move, his head still hanging between his shoulders, his back so tense he’s almost trembling, and worry starts to bloom in the pit of Steve’s stomach.

“Henderson?” Steve tries again, and that’s when he hears it – the sniffle.

Shit.

“Hey. Dustin,” Steve says, slipping into the same calm, firm register he uses when he’s lifeguarding, without even realizing he’s done it (honestly, he’d had to deal with a lot more kids with scraped knees than he had potential drowning victims when he’d worked at the public pool); he cups his hand over the back of Dustin’s neck, squeezing gently to get his attention. “I need you to let me see. I need to make sure you’re alright.”

Slowly, Dustin shifts so that he’s sitting with both knees bent in front of him, though he keeps his head bent down – and that’s fine, Steve won’t make him look up just yet. Instead, he does a quick inspection of everything else; both of Dustin’s palms are a little scraped up, and one is bleeding a bit, but it’s his knee that got the worst of it. It looks like it caught and scraped on the sharp edge of a rock, leaving a bleeding strip of skin that curves across the surface of it.

(It probably wouldn’t have been so bad if Dustin hadn’t insisted on wearing shorts in March, but whatever. Now really isn’t the time to argue about practical fashion.)

“Okay, this looks like a pretty shallow scrape. I bet it stings like hell, but it’ll be a million times better once we get it cleaned up,” Steve says, framing the wound with gentle fingers, careful to avoid the drip of blood streaming down Dustin’s shin.

Still, Dustin says nothing. He’s practically trembling now, sniffling again, and Steve frowns.

“Did you hurt yourself anywhere else?” he asks.

Dustin shakes his head.

“Are you sure? Did you hit your head when you went down? You should let me–”

“I’m not hurt, Steve, Jesus fucking Christ!” Dustin snaps, finally looking up; his cheeks are red and his eyes are watery and he’s clearly trying hard to hold everything in, so Steve does his best not to rock the boat too hard.

“Okay,” he says, low and smooth, still stuck halfway in crisis management mode, “then can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“Everything!” Dustin chokes. “Fucking everything is wrong, okay? I keep – I keep having nightmares and I feel like I haven’t slept in weeks and I’m so tired.” He loses the fight with his tears and they finally spill over, running down his face. “And my mom was talking about Mews the other day, like, just stuff he used to do, and she misses him even though we have Tews, and sometimes I feel like I killed the stupid cat, and I just–”

“Shit, dude, I’m sorry.” Steve reaches up and cups his hand right at the juncture of Dustin’s shoulder and neck, giving him another gentle squeeze. “You didn’t kill your cat, okay?”

Dustin gives a congested snort that’s distinctly lacking in his usual derision. “Yeah, I know that about the same as I know there’s nothing coming to get me at night, but I still can’t sleep.” He sniffs again, reaching up and trying to smear his tears away with the back of his hand. “I’m so done with this, I just– I want it to be over. It’s supposed to be over.”

There’s a little tremor in Dustin’s voice, and Steve’s heart breaks a little bit, because he knows exactly what Dustin means – he knows what the nightmares are like, he knows the guilt over things you can’t change, he knows the feeling of jumping at shadows. And fuck, the kid’s still so young.

(Never mind that Steve’s not even scraping nineteen yet. Never mind that.)

He should probably talk to an actual professional, or something—get some real help—but Steve isn’t sure there’s anyone out there that Dustin can talk to about government coverups and literal monsters from a hell dimension beneath their town. He’s not sure if there’s anyone even qualified. And while Steve sure as hell doesn’t feel qualified to do anything, either, he’d been there with Dustin when it happened, and he’s here with Dustin now, so he’s going to do his best.

“Okay, c’mere,” Steve says, giving one of Dustin’s arms a tug.

Dustin doesn’t argue, doesn’t even question him, and that’s almost more alarming than anything else; he follows Steve a few feet over to a grassy patch at the foot of the embankment and leans heavily into Steve’s side when they sit down again. The grass is a little wet, but Steve doesn’t even feel it as he wraps an arm around Dustin’s back and pulls him closer.

They spend a minute with Dustin’s face half buried in Steve’s shoulder before Dustin gives a muffled grunt of annoyance and tries to pull away. “This is bullshit,” he mutters.

Steve quashes the way he wants to flinch at the declaration and looks down at Dustin instead. “What?”

“Sitting here crying my ass off. It’s stupid. I’m being a baby,” Dustin says, trying to wipe his face clean even as more tears replace the ones he’s just dried away.

“It’s not stupid. Crying is normal,” Steve says.

Dustin scoffs, still trying to pull out of Steve’s hold, but Steve keeps a hand in the middle of his back, unwilling to let him go far.

“I’m serious,” Steve insists. “It’s, like, a normal body reaction, or something. It happens. People cry.”

“You don’t,” Dustin shoots back, and Steve can’t help the instinctive huff of this-isn’t-actually-funny-at-all laughter.

“Yeah, man, because I’m kinda fucked up.”

It’s clearly not the reaction Dustin is expecting, and he stares up at Steve with furrowed brows. “What?”

And– well, fair’s fair, isn’t it? Dustin told Steve what’s bothering him, so Steve can open up a little bit in return, can’t he?

Besides, he can’t really think of any other way to convince Dustin that he’s not just pulling some cool, tough guy shit.

No, he doesn’t stop to cry, but it’s hardly even a choice anymore.

“I used to cry really easily, actually,” Steve says, looking away from Dustin and staring out at the stream instead. “Like, over everything. Literally cried over a glass of milk I spilled once.”

Dustin gives a wet huff of laughter, and Steve allows himself the tug of a quick smile.

“My dad fucking hated it. He was always telling me to stop whining, stop crying, stop acting like–” –a little bitch, Steven. Alright, maybe Dustin didn’t need to hear everything his dad had said to him. “He said I needed to toughen up, be a man. The last time I really cried, I was, like, nine, I think? I don’t even remember what it was over, I just remember that it pissed my dad off. And he said he’d give me something to cry about, and, uh–”

Steve can feel Dustin going tense under his palm, as if he’s afraid of what comes next, and that’s fine. Steve has no problem stopping there; it’s not a story he’d relish retelling in its entirety.

“Anyway, after that, I just kinda… made myself stop. Just like he wanted. And honestly?” Steve blows out a breath, still staring hard at the stream. “It just makes everything worse, holding that shit in. Makes you feel like shit.”

Makes you want to make other people feel like shit, too, because at least it’s an outlet.

“So, whatever. ‘Be a man.’ That’s bullshit.” Steve has known for years that his dad is an asshole, that the things he says are shit, and maybe he’s never known what to do in the face of it, maybe he’s never reacted in a way that’s healthy or even safe, but that doesn’t mean he has to spread the disease around. “Don’t be like me, man, be like you. Cry if you have to.”

Slowly, Dustin wilts back into Steve’s side, curling up under his arm and burying his face half in Steve’s shoulder again.

“You’re actually really smart sometimes,” Dustin mumbles against Steve’s shirt, and Steve snorts.

“Yeah, once in a while I might have some shit worth listening to.”

Dustin’s shoulders start shaking again, so Steve slings his arm more tightly around his back, and Dustin wraps an arm around his middle and clutches at Steve’s sweatshirt. At this point, it’s probably beyond stained with mud and snot and the blood from Dustin’s palms, but Steve can’t really bring himself to care. It’s not like it’s his favorite.

It isn’t the most comfortable place for a breakdown; March in Indiana is still chilly, and the grass is still damp, and the ground is hard, and Dustin’s cap keeps jabbing Steve in the collarbone, but Steve isn’t going to move until Dustin is ready. So they stay a while.

(Steve does end up knocking Dustin’s cap off, because it really is annoying, but he can’t help the little trill of fondness that goes through his chest when he realizes that he can faintly smell the shampoo he’d recommended to him.)

Finally, Dustin pulls away with a heavy sigh, snatching his hat back up and placing it firmly on his head, and Steve takes that to mean that it’s time to go.

“Alright, I’ve got a first aid kit in the car, and I think we can at least tape you together long enough to get back to my house,” Steve says, heaving himself up off the ground.

“We didn’t find any tadpoles, though,” Dustin says, looking back at the stream. “I seriously do need some for my project.”

“We can come back tomorrow,” Steve says, even though he really doesn’t want to spend his Sunday tromping around by the stream in the woods searching for tadpoles.

“Yeah?” Dustin aims a hopeful little smile up at him. “Can I stay over?”

Steve shrugs. “If your mom says it’s fine, yeah.”

(They both know she will.)

“Awesome.” Dustin grins, but it’s a pale shadow of its usual intensity; the kid looks wrung out.

Steve glances up the embankment and then looks back at Dustin.

“Hey,” he says. “You want a lift?”

Dustin, who had been preparing to start the climb back up, looks over at him in confusion. “What?”

“Up the hill.” Steve jerks his head towards the incline.

“How?”

“Piggyback ride. One-time offer.”

“Dude, it’s steep as shit. And I just had a growth spurt,” Dustin scoffs. “There’s no way you can carry me up that thing.”

Steve smirks. “Wanna bet?”

“What do I win?” Dustin asks.

“You get to pick the movie when we get back to my house,” Steve offers.

Dustin chews it over for a moment, then nods. “Deal.”

“Deal.” Steve kneels down. “Hop on. And try not to choke me.”

When Steve stands up again, Dustin settled against his back, he realizes he may have slightly overestimated his own abilities; light, Dustin is not (the kid’s almost fourteen now, Jesus H. Christ), but Steve isn’t one to back down from a challenge.

He starts up the embankment.

“When I win, after you drop us both back down the hill,” Dustin says, “I’m gonna pick Ghostbusters.”

Steve groans. They’ve watched that movie a hundred times now, and he has his limits. “When we get to the top, and I win, I’m going to pick anything but Ghostbusters.”

“Dream on, Steve,” Dustin pats his chest, and Steve keeps climbing.

They’re about halfway up when Dustin laughs in his ear, clutching more tightly around Steve’s neck as the incline gets steeper. “Holy shit, you’re actually doing it!”

“Told you,” Steve says, proudly sounding only a little strained.

He does have to drop Dustin’s legs and use his hands to make sure he doesn’t lose his balance when they get near the top, which does result in Dustin choking him, but Steve gets his revenge by wiping the excess mud on his palms off on the front of Dustin’s shorts once they get over the edge of the embankment.

(“Dude, what the hell!”

“You were already muddy!”)

Still, Dustin laughs and chatters all the way back to the car, still a little more quietly than usual, but Steve doesn’t think he’s seen him smile this much in weeks, so the strain he can already feel setting up in his legs and back is probably worth it.

And they will not be watching Ghostbusters (again) when they get back to his house, but maybe he’ll pick one of the Star Wars movies instead.

He can’t fix everything for Dustin, but he can at least make sure they have a good night – and sometimes, that’s good enough.

[Prompt: Piggyback rides]

#steve harrington #dustin henderson #steve & dustin #brotherly steve harrington and dustin henderson #stranger things #steve harrington vs. toxic masculinity: round 1 #no really this is soft as hell I promise #there are hugs #solar wrote

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hotgirlstiles · 3 months

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Derek gets deeply pissed off when someone says smn like "how didn't you kill Stiles yet? he's so annoying and he's babbling all the time. how can you stand to be with him? aren't you embarrassed when he talks nonsense?" bc what the fuck do you mean he's embarrassed?

He's not annoyed or frustrated, because he likes hearing Stiles talk, he likes that Stiles feels comfortable around him enough to let his conscious flow free. He loves it, bc he sees how Stiles shuts up in the presence of his dad, he knows that he's the only one since Claudia who actually listens to what Stiles says.

And he hates when Stiles hears those things bc he shuts off and doesn't talk for days and Derek has to grab him by his face and growl "fucking talk to me" and shake him a little. And Stiles explodes and cries and they have sex and then everything is normal again.

OH YM GOD YESSS./ HEDWIG OH MY GOD. this is so crazy cause i once had a post about how stiles' exes/previous relationship has definitely done the "kisses you to shut you up" thing especially when he's rambling and stuff so when he's finally with derek, he FULLY expects derek to do the same. like to the point that he sometimes suddenly goes quiet because no one has ever let him ramble this long and surely derek isn't even listening anymore??? except. except derek looks up from whatever he's doing and perfectly follows up on whatever stiles has been saying and even says some super specific things he's said bc guess what! guess what! derek hale IS the most perfect boyfriend and he LOVES stiles. to death!!!

"He loves it, bc he sees how Stiles shuts up in the presence of his dad, he knows that he's the only one since Claudia who actually listens to what Stiles says." GODDDDDDD. I JUST KNOW YOU WERE SMIRKING SO EVIKLLY. YOU KNEW WHAT YOU WERE GONNA DO TO ME WITH THIS SENTENCE CHRIST. i forgot what fics i read this once but claudia being the only one who can keep up with stiles' talking and random changes of topic. the sheriff who can't even keep up with stilesclaudia's conversations. the sheriff who has definitely, at one point after claudia's death, told stiles to shut up because claudia is dead and no one's gonna listen to him anymore............

i just. oh my7 god. i have so much fucking emotions about stiles' rambly self and derek absolutely loving it and keeping track of everything and LISTENING. like derek hale is a listener he LISTENS!!!! sometimes he even shocks stiles because he'd randomly open up a conversation by recalling stiles has said daysss or weeks ago and acting like they were just talking abt it. like he knows how much stiles loves talking abt his interests or abt anything in the sun it's so. he just loves him so much

i jsut love the idea that derek knows stiles is often annoying and rambly but that's HIS annoying and rambjly human. he loves him BECAUSE he's annoying and rambly, because he's who exactly derek needs..... he'd absolutely punch someone for saying all that shit abt stiles honestly he's just so perfect

#answered #sterek #i genuinyl feel sick to my sotmach #THIS. THIS IS JUST #IM SOOO PASSIONATE ABT THIS ASPECT OF STEREK #LIKE I WHOLEHEARTEDLY BELIEVE STILES BELIEVES THAT DEREK IS THE TYPE TO SHUT HIM UP BY KISSING HIM #and ok maybe SOMETIMES derek does it but he does it during arguments or debates during pack meetings #but when he's just mindlessly rambling??? derek doesnt oh goddd he loves stiles voice and talking too much #and thats honestly why derek is jsut so so different from stiles' exes

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yuri-for-businesswomen · 7 months

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a big german newspaper (die zeit) recently published a more critical article on the so called „verrichtungsboxen“ (literally: boxes of execution; boxes on the street where prostituted women and sex buyers can go to consummate the sexual acts; anyone who knows german will know this is a gross terminology, fitting for a gross concept).

while the fact these boxes exist is in itself a tragedy, the letters to the editor are giving me hope that there are sane people left in this country - even though from their names and writing style i would guess they are of the older generation, pension age.

heinz wohner: „if you dont get a visceral reaction of disgust and shame looking at these obfuscating boxes called ‚eco toilets‘ and the image of what is going on in them, you have to be extremely cold. calling what is being done to these women for little money ‚work like any other‘ is sugarcoating the issue.“

wolfgang wendling: „maybe there are women who voluntarily prostitute themselves, but the majority is doing it out of necessity and under pressure. calling the oldest trade in history a profession like any other is pure mockery. its not an honor to call our country europe‘s biggest brothel. but it‘s true. we should be ashamed that women are being exploited, humiliated and abused before our eyes. the more severe the poverty is in the country of origin, the cheaper you can have them. we should finally stop this, which is the only appropriate action for a civilised country.“

brigitte kosfeld: „the photo of these boxes alone speaks volumes on the inhumane practices hidden behind the liberalisation of prostitution. when the law was introduced, there were convinced social democratic women who were holding speeches on ‚prostitution as a profession‘. the intentions behind the law might have been honorable, but the reality has always been deeply anti-woman.“

professor claudia reuter, phd: „the liberalisation of prostitution in germany has failed in all regards. according to a french study, the average life expectancy of a prostitute is 33 years. babbling about self-determination in this case is inhumane. the state is not supporting prostitutes’ workers rights and their health, but their economic and sexual exploitation. its about time for the swedish model: protection for women and consistent punishment for sex buyers and pimps.“

joachim kasten: „social democrat august bebel already wrote in 1879 (…) that ‚honorable family men‘ were contributing to uphold the system prostitution with their money. according to him, they were generously let off their responsibility to disappear in anonymity. apparently today we are still where we were at the end of the 19th century.“

sabine moehler: „the description [in the article] of typical injuries prostitutes have reminded me very much of those women in physically abusive relationships show as well. a man who abuses, humiliates and demeans a prostitute in any way will do the same to his partner, wife or lover as soon as he doesnt like her behavior. (…) even reading about this is upsetting me a lot.“

and of course the one sex buyer who just had to write to the editors, peter müller: „its one sided to use the misery in berlin street prostitution with sex on public toilets as a reason to debate the liberalisation of prostitution. there are many brothels were the ladies are treated with respect. of course working as a prostitute harbors certain risks - but there are women who freely choose this job, and in my experience, some of them are doing it with passion and love. the regular prices are not the dumping prices you mentioned (5-10 euros) [note: which is indeed normal in street prostitution] but actually 80-100 euros for half an hour - not to mention those dont include extras and humiliating sex practices. i met women who earn better in prostitution than some employees in germany.“

loose translation and highlights by me.

#germany #anti prostitution

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findafight · 2 years

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Oh my god!!! That Steve/baby sister fic!!! If you ever want to build it out more I’d be obsessed (ie the party + extended party’s reactions, hop + Joyce and how everyone pitches in)

╰⁠(⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠´⁠꒳⁠`⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠⸝⁠)⁠╯ awwww anon!!!!!

Honestly I have been thinking about it and I know I put in the tags of the original post, buuuut. Robin called Steve Bud or Buddy which morphed into Bubba when they are being particularly soft with each other, and the baby (who I am possibly leaning towards calling Tina so her nickname can be Tintin because it's cute idk) picks up on it so calls Steve her Bubba. Also because "he's my big brother" can sort of become "he's my Bubba!" If words are smushed together by baby babble

But before all that, Steve (who walked to work that day because he didn't have a baby car seat yet and wasn't going to leave his baby sister whom he always wanted and loves so dearly already ALONE or worse. With their FATHER.) goes to, of all people, Mrs. Wheeler for help. He'd go to Joyce but she's working and Karen Wheeler has the youngest kid he knows so is the best bet for maybe getting some tips and also maybe a carrier because the bjorn isn't going to cut it for long. So he goes and Mr. Wheeler immediately thinks Steve's Accidental Baby Acquisition is due to Steve's own recklessness. (Steve is a prolific lover, sure, but he's smart and safe about it! When he was thirteen his dad sat him down for a talk about not wanting the disgrace of a shotgun wedding and his grandpa gave him a run down of venereal diseases he saw (didn't mention having but. Well.) His pals have in WWII that put the fear of God in him regarding unsafe sex. Moreso than the potential babies. So. He's always very careful. For this very reason!! Except apparently his dad didn't use his own advice but Steve isn't complaining because, once again, he always wanted a little sibling.)

Anyways the wheelers are like ohhhh a Harrington Scandal not involving the boy our daughter dated? Okay sure here's Holly's old baby carseat. Hopper is just. He's like. I thought Steve and that kid I kept giving warnings to about selling dope to were a thing and Steve is like "will people stop assuming she's mine!! I know I am a bit of a slut but I am terrified of chlamydia!!! And even if this WAS my fault (which it is not and also she's a gift I love you little baby sister you're the light of my life) I am taking responsibility for it so maybe we all need to be a little less judgy hmmm??"

Joyce and Karen give him some hand me down baby clothes and books, some good tips about feeding and burping and things like that, and Claudia and Sue offer to come passive aggressively congratulate Steve's dad.

Dustin is a little jealous because this Steve Time is going to be encroached upon by This Literal Infant but Steve is like Dustin... you are my Little Brother... My silly pal...Now you have a sister too!! 🥰 And Dustin is like Oh Shit That's Right and proceeds to try to teach this Literal Infant, it cannot be stressed enough that she is a few months old and cannot stay sitting up by herself, how to build a radio.

Eddie is just trying to not have a heart attack from the concentration of Pure Longing activated by seeing Steve With A Baby and has also been forbidden from playing anything loud near them. He is fine and deals with this by writing ballads that make Gareth gag from their sweetness and Jeff have a very knowingly indulgent look when he sees the lyrics. But Gareth lets he hit his drums with he baby hands and Jeff pretends she stole his nose so they aren't that put out by it.

El is Fascinated by the tiny human and asks lots of questions and wants to play with her, give her experiences of softness and kindness right off the bat she knew she herself was denied, so she's often the official baby holder when Steve needs to do something when the Party is around.

The rest of the party is pretty meh on the baby. Sure it's exciting at first but she just kinda becomes part of regular life. They take turns doing actual babysitting for Steve so he can work or run errands or even, gasp, have some normal early adult fun times, but it's all pretty regular. Erica is glad she's not the party baby anymore.

They do however probably secretly fight over who gets to be baby's godparent. Steve isn't allowed to know.

#anonasaurus #steve harrington #big brother steve #the party #stranger things #steddie #platonic stobin #dustin and steve #findaanswers #finda's rambles #finda writes stuff

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jamdoughnutmagician · 2 months

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The Boy Is Mine (Claudia's Edition)

this is my entry for @carolmunson 's writing exercise where we all use the same prompts to write a date night fic with Eddie in the trailer.

Very hastily written over last night and this morning, so apologies for any mistakes!

Word Count:1,204

Eddie Munson Masterlist // Masterlist

Wayne had slid Eddie an all-too knowing wink as he made his way out of the trailer door. He had told Eddie that he was taking a small vacation, a fishing trip out of state with some of his old work buddies. Bringing Eddie into a quick hug before leaving Wayne nods towards his nephew.

“You’re the man of the house for the next few days, son, try not to burn down the place whilst i’m gone.”

Eddie nods, his wild curls bouncing as he does.

“Understood.” Eddie smiles. “Now, go! You have fun with your fishing buddies, I can take care of things from here, trust me.”

“Alright alright! I’m going!” Wayne grumbles as he loads his fishing gear into the back of the car before driving away.

“Alright and for zee beautiful lady, my famous spaghetti and meatballs.” Eddie says in his best fancy french accent as he rounds the small dining table, placing a generous plating of pasta in front of you.

Your back sinks against the soft throw pillow plumped against the harsh back of the wooden dining chair.

Eddie had insisted on cooking for you for a special date night, calling you up to come over because he said he had a special surprise planned for you, and to wear something fancy.

So you pulled on your nicest dress from your wardrobe, the dainty blue floral one that you knew Eddie liked seeing you in, if his big brown eyes were any give away, the way they roamed over the expanse of exposed skin every time you wore it.

Excitedly knocking your knuckles against the rickety trailer door you heard the enthusiastic shout from your boyfriend from inside.

“I’ll be there in a minute!” comes his voice, sounding as if he was working very hard behind closed doors.

Suddenly the door swings open and there stands your boyfriend, his messy hair tied back into a loose bun at the nape of his neck, a few stray curls falling down to frame his face. His slender frame is covered in a tight black shirt and his usual dark ripped jeans, but it’s not that that catches your attention, no, it’s the white ‘kiss the cook’ apron decorated with various splotchy stains that has you cocking your head in interest. A small spiral notebook hangs off his apron where it's tied around his waist, looking every part waiter-and-chef all rolled into one.

“Come in, Welcome to Chez Munson” he smiles broadly, his white teeth pulling against the curve of his bottom lip.

“Welcome madame, let me show you to your seat.” he says as he guides you into the small dining area he’s set up in the kitchen, complete with a single rose dropped into an empty coke bottle.

“Eddie..”

“I know, I know, it's just we never really get time to ourselves anymore, we've both been so busy lately, and I just wanted to treat my favourite girl.”

“Eddie, it's perfect!” You beam, leaning up to kiss his cheek, feeling his flushed cheeks smile against your lips.

Just as he's about to sit down in the seat opposite you, he bounces back to his feet.

“I almost forgot!” He babbles as he reaches into the fridge to retrieve a bottle of wine. “Harrington helped me pick it out, but I think he just chose this because there was a picture of an lion on the label” he chuckles.

Then for a brief moment you hear him clinking around in the kitchen cabinets in search of some wine glasses.

“Okay..” he huffs “so, like, I ran out of nice cups, is this okay?” He asks as he places down two mugs on the table. His favourite Garfield mug for him, and a red race-car mug for you, from that time when Wayne took Eddie to the Indy 500 a few years back.

He cracks open the bottle and pours a few drops in each mug, before sitting down opposite you.

“Cheers!” He grins, lifting his mug up.

You clink your mug against his and return his cheer.

You watch as he reaches for the small tub of grated parmesan on the table before sprinkling it on top of his pasta.

“And you like that, huh?” you wrinkle your nose in disgust at his choice of topping.

“What can I say, Sweetheart, I've got a refined palette.” He laughs before twirling up a forkful of noodles.

You dig into your dinner and it's surprisingly delicious. Truly a testament to how hard he'd worked to put together the whole meal for you.

“Y’know, this is the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me.” you tell him earnestly.

“Well I just wanted to make you smile, know you’ve been busy working those late night shifts at the diner, and I’m not always the best boyfriend-”

“Aw, no, Honey. Don’t be like that. That’s not true at all.” you stop him before he can discredit himself, and talk himself down, as he often found himself doing.

He looks up at you from underneath his dark eyelashes.

“Eddie, you are the best boyfriend, the only boyfriend, I’ve ever had.” It’s true, you had met Eddie when you were a new student who had just moved into Hawkins and were trying to navigate your way through a new school half-way through the academic year. He was the one who befriended you and that friendship had gone from strength to strength until neither of you could ignore the feelings you both felt for one another anymore.

“But the fact that you have been my only boyfriend, doesn’t mean that you haven’t been the absolute best boyfriend in my eyes. You make me laugh, you’re sweet and kind, you make me feel safe, and most importantly you make me feel so loved.”

He reaches his hand across the table, taking your hand in his and kissing his lips softly against the back of your hand.

“I think the same of you too, Sweetheart. You’re it for me. You’re my forever girl. Want you in my life always, I mean it.”

“And now for dessert.” he says as he places down a slice of vanilla sponge cake, complete with gooey vanilla frosting and a cherry on top. “Although I can’t claim this one as my own, compliments go to the bakers at Walmart for this one.”

As you both enjoy your desserts in comfortable silence, you can’t help but let your foot trail up his leg underneath the table, teasingly playing with him whilst you smile innocently at him from across the table.

“If you don’t stop that, we’re going to have a problem here, Sweetheart.” his voice drops to a husky low rumble, his pink lips curving into a smile.

“Maybe, I want something else for dessert too..” you tease him.

“Let me clear away these plates, you go ahead and wait in the bedroom. I’ve been dying to rip that dress off you since you stepped through the door.” he smirks, his dark eyes raking over you.

Excitedly you jump up from your seat, and make your way over to him, kissing him on his cheek before whispering in his ear.

“Don’t keep me waiting, Teddy.”

@mrsjellymunson @penguinsandpotterheads @ali-r3n @seatnights @xxbimbobunnyxx @impmunson @paybacksawitch @heydreamchild

#Eddie Munson x Reader #Eddie Munson x Reader fluff #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson x Reader Fanfic #Eddie Munson fanfic

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ilovewriting06 · 19 days

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Mischief and Angel- Part 10

"Let me get this right, not only are Gerard and Kate back, but this child, this random child that just so happens to look like a perfect mix of both of you, showed up and then forged a parental bond with both of you? Not only that, but her birthdate lines up with the baby you miscarried and she's practically named after Claudia?"

I nod as my hand tightens around Stiles, "Yeah, pretty much sums it all up."

I'm met with a blank stare before Mom turns to her right to look at Noah, "You have any questions, Noah?"

Noah scratches his chin and leans back in his recliner, "I have multiple, but I'm not shocked about Gerard and Kate, nor am I shocked about the parental bond thing, I'm shocked that Y/n went through a miscarriage, and we had no idea."

I look down at my socks as Stiles moves his hand to rub small circles on my thigh as he more than likely glares at his dad, "Dad, can we not with this right now, or ever? You don't understand the pain she feels every time the baby we lost is directly brought up."

I glance up to see Noah and Mom frown as they look at me before Mom nods, "Okay, I'm sorry Sweetheart, we won't mention it again. At least we'll try not to."

Noah nods in agreement before Mom's face breaks into a wide grin as she moves to the edge of her seat, "So, when do I get to meet my granddaughter?"

At the mention of Lola I perk up and smile before standing from the couch, "Right now, I'll go and get her from Amelia."

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I close the basement door behind me as I walk towards the living room and Lola happily flings her little rabbit around until she sees Stiles. As soon as they make eye contact she screeches out a happy little sound and flings her rabbit, successfully smacking me in the face before I save it from falling onto the floor. I chuckle as she holds her hands out in Stiles' direction, "I think she has a favorite."

When I get to Stiles, Lola practically swan dives from my arms and into Stiles' awaiting arms. He wraps his arms around her as she babbles nonsense as if she's telling the most exciting story.

Stiles' smile never drops as he watches her every move before I hear a gasp, "She looks like a carbon copy of baby Stiles."

Stiles and I look over to see Noah with slightly damp eyes and Mom with a happy little smile. I glance at Stiles before looking back at Noah, "I know, I've tried to figure out if there was a way for the pregnancy to somehow transfer or something but I haven't found anything."

"Y/n..."

I turn and look at Stiles and frown, "I know, I know what you said but Stiles, I can feel it! We're missing a huge piece of the puzzle and I can't for the life of me figure it out."

Stiles sighs as he hands Lola her bunny that had been flung across the couch, "I just don't want you to get your hopes up, Angel. I don't want you to be hurt incase we're wrong."

I suck in a breath before releasing it with a 'woosh', "We're?"

I can see Stiles mentally face palm when he realizes what he said before he nods, "Yes, we're, I had the same exact thought the second that I saw her, but I didn't say anything because I don't want you to get hurt again."

I sink onto the couch and curl into Stiles' side and placing a soft kiss on his shoulder, "I know, and I love you for trying to protect me, but I honestly think we're right, I just don't know how it happened."

After a few seconds of silence Mom stands and makes her way over as she says, "Well, since that has been dealt with, may I hold my beautiful granddaughter? I've only been waiting for this day for almost 18 years."

I snort and roll my eyes as Stiles hands Lola to Mom with a chuckle, "Be careful, she loves to pull hair and will occasionally bite."

I nod quickly at that, "Dear God yes, especially if she knows you're a werewolf. It's nothing for her to start gnawing on my shoulder when I'm holding her. I think it's a self soothing technique but she has sharp little fox teeth."

Noah's eyes flick between me and Lola before he asks, "Fox teeth? She's not a werewolf?"

I wrap my arms around Stiles' arm before humming, "Mhmm, she's a werefox, which is extremely rare. It usually only happens when one parent is a were of some kind and the other is a kitsune, or carries the gene. It's another reason I firmly believe she is somehow the baby I thought I miscarried."

Mom moves to sit back in her chair and once she's settled she nods, "Because of the nogistune?"

I let out a snarl as I tighten my hold around Stiles, "Yeah, the nogistune is gone but his spark retained some of the fox spirit, just not the evilness of it."

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I laugh as Lola bites into Scott's arm with a tiny little squeak, "I told you not to take her rabbit!"

Scott hisses in pain as he tries to pry Lola off of his arm, "Leave it to you to have a kid that bites people."

I roll my eyes before making eye contact with Lola and flashing my eyes, "Let him go, Lola." She releases Scott's arm but she still looks suspicious as he hands her the bunny as a peace offering.

When she's got her little hands tightly around her bunny she looks to me and holds her arms out with a little whine. I smile as I walk over and pick her up out of Scott's arms, "It's alright Sweetheart, I want to bite Scott sometimes too. That doesn't mean we should though, it isn't nice, and he's your Uncle."

Lola blinks at me before babbling a string of unintelligible sounds but somehow I know she's complaining about Scott. I nod along before smoothing back her dark brown curls, "Yeah, I know, it was awfully rude of him to take your bunny."

Lola grunts before peaking over my shoulder and making the noise she makes when she wants something, "Ah."

I raise an eyebrow and turn around trying to figure out what she wants before I roll my eyes and start walking towards a grinning Stiles, "Yeah, yeah, lets go get Daddy, lord knows you can't survive five seconds without him."

"Da!"

I freeze mid step before looking at Stiles with wide eyes, "Did she just...?"

He nods slowly before walking over to us and peering down at Lola, "Lola, did you say Daddy?"

"Yah! Da!"

I blink again before breaking out in a wide smile, "Good job! Can you say, mama?"

She turns and blinks before looking back at Stiles, "Da. Da."

I can't help but sigh a little bit as Stiles takes her from me, "Yeah, that's Dada, or Daddy, not sure which one you're saying though."

Stiles bounces her before shooting me a small smile, "Hey, she'll be running around yelling Mama before you know it."

I press a quick kiss to his cheek before nodding, "Yeah, it's only a matter of time before she's walking, she's already standing on her own. God, it feels like we've had her for longer than a week."

"I know, I'm just glad Amelia isn't trying to fight us on custody or whatever it is that would happen."

I run a hand over Lola's hair with a soft smile, "She can't, Lola has to stay with us unless they want to deal with an unruly, temper tantrum throwing toddler until she hits five years old. Plus since we're alive and the parental bond wouldn't break unless we were, she'd run away to try and find us."

I follow Stiles back to the living room as he sits on the floor and leaning back against the couch before setting Lola down. I sink down beside him as Lola lets out a cute little squeak before dropping to all fours and crawling over to Kira. Kira smile and crouches down as she rubs Lola's cheek, "Hey there Lola, I'm Auntie Kira."

Lola smiles and giggles before turning around and crawling between every single person in the pack, including Amelia's pack. She makes her way between everyone, finally settling at Stiles and I's feet with her bunny and a couple other random toys.

As she plays Scott clears his throat, "Okay, now that everyone has met my adorable niece, we should probably figure out what the hell...sorry, heck, we're doing about Gerard and Kate."

I grab Stiles' hand and sigh knowing that there is going to be one hell of a showdown before it's all settled, hopefully with Gerard and Kate ashes on the wind.

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A/n- I know this one is short but the next part is where the real fun starts so I had to end this one a little shorter than I wanted. You also figure out the rest of Lola's story soon! I hope you enjoy it and let me know what you think!

Tag List: @ah-blossom @gabby988 @zanypaintermoon

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #dylan o’brien #scott mccall #stiles stilinksi x reader #dylan o’brien x reader #allison argent #stiles x reader #isaac lahey #lydia martin #kira yukimura #vernon boyd #chris argent #erica reyes #sheriff stilinski #melissa mccall #mischief and angel

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