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wheatnoodle · 1 year

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part 2!!

read part 1 here

—

it takes four days before somebody notices anything is wrong.

it’s keith of all people. steve had called him at the beginning of the week to tell him he was sick and wouldn’t be in for a few days. keith told him three days. it’s day four and he’s stomping up from the back room. he looks behind the line, whips his head around and scans the parking lot. with a hefty sigh, he snatches up one of the landlines, punching in numbers with much more force than necessary.

it rings a few times before being sent to the voice message machine. robin watches him from the counter.

“harrington. it’s…” he checks his watch, “11:30. you were supposed to be here at 9:00. i’ve called like a million times. get here or find a new job,” keith says before slamming the phone down.

“who shoved a stick up your ass this morning?” robin asks, her arms crossing over her chest.

“harrington. you seen him lately?” keith said with a huff.

“no. why?” she furrows her brows, standing up straighter at the mention of her best friend. now that she thinks about it, when did she see him last? the bonfire? did he make it home okay? what if he crashed his car and he’s dead in a ditch? is he sick? and she’s not taking care of him? oh god, what if his parents are home?

“he was out the past couple days, was supposed to be back in today. clearly he’s not, and i can’t get in touch with him,” keith shook his head, annoyance dripping off his very being.

“maybe i can call some of our friends to go check on him,” robin says, mainly to herself, and grabs the phone keith was just using. there’s a notecard taped under the counter with all the party’s house phone numbers, even the byers’ home all the way across the country. she pulls it off, reading through it and typing in dustin’s phone number. “c’mon c’mon c’mon…”

“henderson’s, this is claudia,” dustin’s mother answers, her voice as bright and cheery as always.

“hi, ms.h. it’s robin. um…is dustin around?” she tries to keep her voice even, even puts a smile on her face in hopes it makes everything sound okay.

“of course, honey! let me go get him for you.” the sound muffles for a few seconds as claudia calls for her son, pressing the phone to her chest. robin can hear the smallest bits of their conversation before the phone is handed off.

“robin? what’s up?” dustin’s voice filters through the receiver. he sounds happy to hear from her, but of course he doesn’t know what to expect. robin’s calling? in the middle of a work day? that doesn’t happen.

“hey, dustin! quick question, have you talked to steve recently?” robin asks and brings a hand up to chew on her nails, a bad habit she gets from her dad. her mom always tries to pull her hands from her mouth.

“no, last time was at the fire. why, what’s going on?” he doesn’t seem happy anymore. his voice drops quiet while he talks, like he’s waiting for robin to drop an upside down related bombshell on his morning.

“oh. well he was supposed to be in today but hasn’t showed. not picking up the phone either. i was just wondering if he’d said anything to you.”

“no, he hasn’t said anything. i’ll go check on him, i got nothing else going on today. i’ll radio when i see him,” dustin says. robin’s nodding along before she remembers he can’t see her. “robin. he’ll be okay.”

“i know. i know, i do. i just worry about him,” robin says truthfully and her shoulders deflate with a sigh. she runs her fingers through her hair, closing her eyes and tugging on the strands.

“i do too. i’ll get back to you.” and with that, the dial tone sounds. robin’s chewing her lip as she puts the phone back and gets ready to handle the incoming customers

—

dustin knows the route to steve’s house like the back of his hand and it takes him less than fifteen minutes to bike over there. he hops off once he reaches the end of the harrington’s long, unpaved driveway, walking his bike up the rest of the dirt trail. he always hated this part, especially at night. giant trees would loom over and every single one seemed to hold some kind of animal making some kind of weird noise. also way too close to where will went missing all those years ago for his liking.

the first thing dustin notices when he approaches the house is the lack of a car in the driveway. the familiar maroon bmw is nowhere in sight. odd. steve wouldn’t lie about being sick to get out of work and then go get caught driving around instead. maybe it was just in the shop.

he walks up to the red door and starts pounding on it.

“steeeeeve! steve, it’s dustin!” the kid yells, his fist continuing to slam against the wood. he waits a few seconds, gets no response, and repeats. he’s out there for ten minutes before accepting that he was, in fact, not going to answer the door. he takes his walkie from the side pocket of his backpack and switches to the main scoops troop channel.

“robin, it’s dustin. he’s not answering the door, so i’m going in. over,” he says and tucks it back in his pocket.

“keep me posted. over.”

he pulls his key ring from his shorts, flipping through to the gold key to the harrington house. dustin sticks the key in, twists and opens. it creaks on its hinges.

the second dustin steps inside, he’s hit with how warm it is in the house. how has he not turned on the ac?! it’s like a million degrees in here! he must be like dying if he’s actually sick and it’s this warm here.

“steve?! steve! are you here, man? it’s dustin,” he calls out as he starts his ascent up the stairs. “steeeeeve!”

no response. just echoes of his own voice bouncing back in his ears. what is going on? it’s eerily quiet, the silence making the blood rush in his ears. dustin approaches steve’s door. it’s cracked an inch or so.

“steve?” dustin says quietly. he places his palm on the door, gives it a gentle push so it swings open.

the room is empty. everything is spotless.

pictures of the kids are gone from the mirror on the wall.

the closet devoid of brightly colored sweaters and well-loved sneakers.

dustin’s eyes are wide as saucers, jaw dropped wide enough to catch flies. his hands fall to his sides and he doesn’t even try to stop them from trembling.

“st-eve?” his voice cracks. blue eyes are flooded with tears that won’t quite fall but certainly make it hard to see. “STEVE?”

the walkie is back in his hand.

“robin. this is dustin. i think i might have a code red. over,” he whimpers into the walkie. his free hand pushes under his hat, tangling in sweaty curls. “robin, i have a code red! over!”

“dustin? it’s robin, what’s going on? is steve okay? over.”

“he’s- he’s gone? n-nothing is here? i’m- robin, his room is empty.” he doesn’t care that he’s now openly crying into the receiver, fat tears rolling down his flushed cheeks.

“i’m on my way.”

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #stranger things fic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steddie #later tho

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donotpush · 11 months

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Bumpin' in Europe, 1

Monica wasn’t your aunt, and to be honest, you were never really sure what she was doing in your house.

The few memories you had of her were like a fuzzy dream, disjointed bits with a touch of a few very specific sensations, like the smell of her perfume or the exact shade of tan she always had.

She was Mom’s friend, that was it. You couldn’t remember for how long she was around, and if anything, she probably had been your mom’s friend more than she was your auntie.

The most vivid memories you had of her flourished around your teen years when the way you looked at her started to slowly shift.

She would come around a few times a year, typically around the holidays and it always meant gifts, exotic trinkets and the extremely physical affection that the people from somewhere in Southern Europe always carried around with them. She would always bring good wine with her and that meant that mom would be a little less grumpy and that you were allowed to stay up past your bedtime, sitting in the dark in the backyard with them.

But she wasn’t around that much for you to consider her a constant, an important part of your life as you did with some other of your mom’s friends, who you would actually call aunt.

Monica was just the woman that would get all the horny teens in the neighbourhood to conglomerate in your backyard to watch her sunbathe.

Cause she was pretty hot, too. As you grew older, the less you cared about if she brought you gifts and more if she was going to wear those shorts or tank tops that showed off way more skin than your conservative neighbourhood was used to.

All the fond memories you had of her seemed to remain buried deep into your little box of wonders, until yesterday.

You shook your feet in the air before smacking them gently against the wall, trying to get rid of the sand that got into your sandals, grazing the bare skin and making you groan silently. Something tickled the back of your sweaty neck, and a small blood spot smudged your fingers when you killed the mosquito that landed on your skin.

This far, this part of your journey has been hell on earth.

It had looked nothing like what the influencers on Instagram showed, and yes, you were aware that if there was something this trip wasn’t going to be, that was glamorous.

But, come on! This was too much even for you.

The owner of the hostel you were staying in ended up being a total asshole, to say the least.

The place was nothing like what it advertised on Airbnb, the posted pictures made you think that there was a cozy, safe, friendly and clean place that couldn't be less far from reality in competition with the building that stood in front of you.

And of course, you did expect to share a room with people. Maybe nine, ten at worst. Not fucking 25 other people in the most cramped place you have ever seen, and for the price you were paying might as well pay for a hotel room.

You could hear your mother’s voice saying I told you clear as daylight.

Long short story, there was no way you were getting your money back that day, you were without a single penny in your pockets and waiting for some divine Airbnb intervention to come and rescue you.

But it didn’t happen, and your mom was the godsend creature that served you the solution to all your problems on a silver platter, after the scolding of the year over the phone. It truly is a small world, and Monica, her friend, happened to live in the same hole lost in the middle of nowhere where you ended up.

Another argument with the hostel owner and a few more calls later, you were heading to Monica’s house, who gladly allowed you to spend as much time as needed at her place.

There were a few little details that didn't escape your eyes at first sight, not the most obvious, perhaps. Her hair was shorter—no longer waist long, and a shade lighter, a nice caramel brown instead of black. And God, she looked younger than her actual age. Even when there were new wrinkles around her eyes and there was proof that she smiled too much on the corners of her lips.

Well, she was still a beautiful woman.

As a kid, you were bewitched by how kind and funny she was and what amazing gifts she always gave you. Now your interests were drafted to how fucking hot the woman in front of you was.

She wasn’t exactly like the vivid image you hold in your memory, she surfed the transition from young adult to mature woman smoothly and hot as hell. And you liked it, but as your eyes scanned her from head to toe, taking in every inch and trying to remain as neutral as possible, it wasn't possible to contain the way your eyebrows raised and your lips parted, your face crumpling up in total surprise.

Firstly your gaze shifted front the way the skin that revealed the risky neckline shined against the warm sun to lower, and all the curves were great. But the curves didn’t stop there, because the modest black shirt she was wearing clung tightly to the gravid stomach that protruded in her middle, stretching the fabric dangerously.

Your mind went blank and you weren't sure if you let out an audible gasp, but your eyes seemed to be glued to her heavy, big midsection. Not only she looked— she was pregnant. She was pregnant, and fuck, you were sure she had more than one bun in the oven.

Huge. She was huge. Swollen breasts and round, firm stomach that made you wonder whether she already was in the last trimester.

Lucky the bastard that knocked her up.

It took a moment for your brain to reboot and return to function normally after you almost drooled.

The fabric barely covered the curve of her stomach, leaving a bit of the skin of her underbelly exposed, soft and inviting and you wanted to touch. In an unconscious manner, Monica pulled the shirt down in a useless try, because it lifted again, exposing even more skin.

Her hands moved to your forearms, gripping softly at them before she pulled you closer into a hug, her arms circling your body. You hugged her back automatically, burying your face between her shoulder and her neck and she was wearing the same perfume as always.

“Oh, Y/N! Look at you, dear". Monica laughed quietly.

The weight of the backpack you carried didn’t help you to remain stable, and soon you found yourself almost leaning completely against her in a closeness you didn’t intend. The gravid roundedness of her stomach pressed against your thin middle in comparison, and for a moment all you could feel was your own body getting hotter by the second, not knowing what to do with your hands.

Thank God you already looked flustered and sweaty when you got there.

You knew where you wanted to put your hands, but that would be not respectful at all. You wanted to touch, run your fingers over the bump, to touch and grasp but God, you had basic human decency to not be that much of a creep.

She pressed a kiss to your right cheek, and you shivered at the feeling of her lips against your hot skin and the way her gravid body pressed against yours, then another kiss on your left cheek.

“Please, come inside”.

You didn’t remember it, but she had an accent.

She held the door open for you, and she had to turn sideways facing you to get her belly out of the way and let you fit past her into the house.

The place was surreal, with high ceilings and spacious rooms, floors that conserved old tiles decorated with handmade colorful details you were sure weren't made anymore these days, paintings on the walls and art pieces that reminded you of abstract art pieces you had seen online.

Everything was taken care of, every little decoration carefully placed, every detail double-checked, and your attention should be there, but your eyes couldn't leave Monica’s body.

“Look at you, you’re…” she smiled, walking into the kitchen, “God, you’re so… different. All grown up, now."

Leaning back against the countertop, one of her hands traveled to rest over her growing stomach, and the other one to rest behind her back for support. A drop of sweat rolled down her neck and slid down her collarbone, disappearing between her breasts. You realized she wasn't wearing anything under the shirt, and you got it, being all hot and bothered while being so pregnant didn't seemed like a good idea.

And for a moment your brain flashed with images of her naked on top of you, breasts full of milk bouncing and gravid bellies contracting under your touch. Then you shook your head vigorously, forcing yourself to remember why it was wrong and you shouldn't be looking at Monica in that light.

“Yeah, you’re...” you let out a shaky breath, your hands gesturing first to yourself, then to her before you shrugged. “I mean, you look-”

The words got tangled on your tongue before they could even try to get past your lips; you knew exactly what you wanted to say, but you weren’t sure if you should. You swallowed, taking a deep breath under the attentive gaze of Monica.

“I know, different. Different is good.” you forced out, smiling and waving your hand.

You hoped the blush that painted across your cheeks wasn’t noticeable, that she hadn’t noticed. How to say anything without it coming off the wrong way?

You wanted to compliment her so badly, but there were so many risk factors here, you didn’t even know where to start.

She was hot. More than you remembered and even more than you expected, and pregnancy... suited her so well. Like she was born to be like this, to have a gravid body and carry a huge stomach, with a baby growing inside of her. Full and heavy breasts, glowing from the inside out, soft thick thighs and perfect curves everywhere, meant to be a mommy.

"Y/N?" she asked, cocking her head to the side, her hand rubbing the curve of her abdomen tenderly. "Everything alright?"

As you know, the future of this story is up to you ;) so vote, comment, or whaterver you like babe. I hope you enjoyed the start of this journey so far, and I hope we can get even more of this 👀 as always, criticism is always appreciated and likes feed my ego, so feel free to smash that little heart :)

#pregnancy #pregnancy fantasy #fpreg #stories #interactive story #polls #labor #birth kink #m1lfs #this probably needs to be EDITED #later tho #also #sort of not a pwp #this #has a plot #👀#or at least i intend to #BIE

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midnightcoffes · 4 months

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no but hear me out.

*taps mic* uh. book fishlegs and rtte snotlout would be friends. I am not going to elaborate

#httyd books #httyd #how to train your dragon #rtte #book fishlegs #rtte snotlout #httyd snotlout #jokes on YOU i am going to elaborate #later tho #they would just trust me #me? insane?#what do you meaaaaaan #me normal #the normalest ever

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plaguechan-cute · 4 months

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I've been wanting to draw a Shuffler Jerma ever since I saw the stream

opted for less hair cause robot but included the other options i was considering

for fun here were the first sketches to feel it out, probs gonna try drawing that first one better

#also gonna make an animatic with the voice clips #later tho #jerma985 #jermaposting #jermacore #jerma fanart #dougdoug #shufflerbot #shuffler #Jerma Shuffler #Shuffler Jerma #my art #silly little thing

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thesupernaturalhouse · 11 days

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I've already told like, all my friend, but wanted to make a psot anyways, cause pike- hear me out

.....Griffin lute, like, give her little kitty/lion paws/legs- it'd be fucking adorable- GIVE HER A TAIL

I also actually drew Adam, and I did not expect for him to come out so well- I made him a goat/ram. Eve is also a goat, btw

I've already got a line up for my redesigns it'll go alastor. Then lute end Adam, then luci and lilith and eve

Oh this is gonna be great

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #hazbins fallen au #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel Adam #a bit of eve to #ill make a separate post for the apple trio later #og and a post about demon couritng and stuff-#later tho

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fluffypotatey · 5 months

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Consider an au with the soul mate identify trope of your writing on your skin showing up in the skin of your soulmate. Obviously shadowpeach are soulmates . Would them during their nemesis Era use that to torment/taunt the other(insults, threats,etc) or would they pretend it didn't exist

gonna be honest with you, anon, i am super picky with my soulmate AUs (out of love, i love them so much !and this has made me a harsh grader for them)

anyway

i don't think Macky would use their "link," so to speak, as a means to torment or taunt (not including swk because it was honestly Macadoodle who was the instigator and provoker throughout their nemesis dynamic in lmk). and i feel like Wukong's punishment under the 5 Phases Mt. would cut off their communication the fastest because even if Macky wrote on his arm, Wukong would never see it or be able to write back (which Mackarell is very aware of). after their fight, neither would be able to write back an apology or even scribble some sweet drawing if they still can't find the right words. so, it's possible that because of this 500 year pause of communication, their old habit of scribbling and writing notes on their arms faded pretty quickly.

and then Wukong is free. his arms are no longer fused with rock. his arms are bare, obviously. he feels that old itch to scribble or write something on them, but he doesn't follow through with it. he can't. not after what the both of them had said to each other. sure, centuries passed but how would Wukong know if Macky would be happy to learn he's okay, that he's free. the last thing Macky even said to him was that he was tired of being dragged along by Wukong, so....maybe Wukong shouldn't drag Macky along any further.

and then they meet again, and Macky is pissed. whether at Wukong or for him, it's hard for the monkey king to tell because Macky is mad and bloodthirsty and he is hurting Wukong friends. he is impersonating Wukong, trying to steal his journey--not even his, it's Tripitaka's, his master's-- trying to fool everyone into think that Wukong is nothing more than a demon who desires for nothing but to consume the world of its power and reign as the greatest there's ever been-

then Macky is dead. everything happened to fast, but there the monkey lies on the ground, arms bare. they have always been bare ever since the war they started with Heaven centuries ago. Macky's arms are bare and so are Wukong's.

when Macky wakes up/is revived the memory of their link and broken bond is still fresh, but for Wukong, it's been a long, long time.

Wukong has grown to become used to the scribbles and ink on his arms to never be reciprocated. he doesn't even write or draw on them that much, just when the itch to do something is strong but he's got no spare paper or spare mural room. he even allows his little Suns write or scribble on him just for fun or when they're bored. he even allows MK, who's arms are always filled to the brim with scribbles by the time the kid arrives for training.

Macky did not expect to ever wake up one day and find his arm full of ink. he clawed it at since washing it off didn't work. there's a strange sort of limbo Macky's mind seems to go into whenever he considers the reason for why Wukong is still scribbling, still adding life to their link. all throughout seasons 1 to 3 Macky figured it was because Wukong had eventually moved on enough to stop caring.

and yes, Wukong did move on. but he never stopped caring. Macky hadn't believed that until he was with MK in that scroll.

and it's strange. to find out that the person you once loved still loves you (how much or how different is still unclear). it's even stranger when you realize that you, yourself, do not still hold love from the past but for the present, for the future.

after Azure's defeat, there's some new scribbles on both of their arms. Wukong swears he didn't change his style, so obviously it must be Macquackity himself who'd done it (then he starts to smile while holding his arms tightly to his chest). Macky just huffs and claims that it's better than boredom (then draws on a sun and a moon on the wrist of his arms).

#this could turn into a fic #hmmm #yeah #later tho #lmk #shadowpeach #asks #lmk soulmate au #lmk au

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ickyguts · 8 months

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Hopps and Geshtu everybody

Geshsnooze belongs to @herebecritters

#LOVE EM #love em a lot #slapping this down before i clock in HA #i just wanted to whip the ship at ur head #like a master pitcher #Hopps is goofy and silly #geshtu is spooky and serious #UGH I WANNA TELL THE TALE OF HOT WINGS #how they meet is great guys #its beauty #later tho #i just had a hankering to share XD #my art #htf ocs #htf oc #htf #happy tree friends #htf hopps #htf geshtu

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mimicmew · 1 year

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So henry stickmin huh

[REBLOGS > LIKES]

#mew drew #repost bc there were issues with the og art + added an extra image #thsc #the henry stickmin collection #henry stickmin #reginald copperbottom #charles calvin #ellie rose #sorry 4 no rhm or galeforce ill probably draw them #later tho #anyway i love rapidly jumping across fandoms

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inkyquince · 2 months

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Being apart of the previous generation friend group would suck, one day you're trying to talk down active homicides against each member and the next, Eden is playfully wrestling you down because you said you could defeat him and then there's a glint in his eyes when you're pinned down and everyone else just jeers and watches as Eden's impossibly big cock ruins your hole

#hm #might warble on about this #later tho #eepu

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guqin-and-flute · 9 months

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secret kisses for wangxian pls 🫶

Lan Wangji dismissed the first tap on the window in the wall behind him. It sounded when the students were practicing writing out talismans. A few looked up from their work, but being studious, did not make any further fuss and soon bent back over their parchment.

Supposing it was some sort of twig or seed falling, he too continued to sit in silent meditation until a question was asked. Or, in this case, the tap came again.

It was a knock, he was certain of it, now. Sure and in triplet. 1, 2, 3.

Open up.

Several students were peering at him from their scholarly posture; curious, of both the noise and his reaction to it. Given that there were no pranksters among them and any person with genuine business with anyone inside the schoolroom would enter through the proper door, there was only one person it could be.

Calmly, Lan Wangji stood from his cushion at the head of the room and turned to crack open the small, round window screen. No one. And then, from below the sill, Wei Ying popped up and pecked a kiss, right under his chin with a grin. From where he stood, his shoulders perfectly blocked this exchange from view of the rest of the classroom.

Before he had any time to react--indeed, to reach out and corral his mischeivous husband closer for anything further--Wei Ying had disappeared into the foliage beyond the building with a shower of smothered snickers.

"Who's at the window, Hanguan-jun?" a curious girl piped up from the front row.

"No one." It was not even a lie. There was no one there, now. "Return to practicing."

Diligently, they did. And if anyone noticed that his ears were now a brilliant pink, they were smart enough to make no comment.

[From this ask game!]

#wwx #lwj #wangxian #ask #ask game #my fic #more to cooooome!#later tho

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angelpuns · 7 months

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Not entirely sure why I'm sending this, I guess I just wanted to share a few funny stories to a guy who also used to be Catholic?

My little sibling's confirmation teacher told them that everyone who isn't Christian is depressed, but the way they told me was his teacher thinks that all gay people are depressed and I died laughing. My little sibling supports the LGBTQ+ and wants out of the Catholic faith.

It reminded me of when my confirmation teacher told the class not to brag about being born into the Catholic faith to people who weren't or non Catholics, I laughed so hard after, like, I did not want to be there, sir, what do you mean "brag"?? Old Catholics are just so wacky to me and make me laugh about these things.

Sorry for the small rant, I just thought it was funny. That confirmation class taught me a lot things I don't think they wanted to teach lmao.

Excellent I love funny Catholic stories gimme gimme

ALSO CW FOR TALKING ABOUT CHURCH CAMP/RELIGON/CATHOLICSM FOR ANYONE ELSE READING THIS

oh my god- THIS IS A UNIVERSAL CATHOLCI EXPERIENCE I THINK OMFG

OKAY:

this is also like when my mom ( who was not raised Catholic *sideeye at her rn* ) literally was like ' well Catholicism is more valid because we take the Eucharist' GIRL WHAT-

like that entire side of the family that she's from is not even Catholic or even under the umbrella of Catholicism- AND SHE'S GONNA SAY THAT WITH HER WHOLE CHEST??? GIRLLLL

Literally immediately after she was like ' don't tell anyone that, though, it's just rude :)' This was after the preacher of the C.P. church that her family goes to told her I had been saved at church camp ( which is a whole separate issue of Protestant faith, esp at church camps cause the whole ' saving during the worship service ' and that like - the emotional manipulation to get save is just so overwhelming that - even though I felt nothing and didn't really believe in getting saved - followed along due to it being the societal norm. Like maaaaaan no one tells you that when you go to church camp they're gonna pressure you all week about being saved. AND ALSO THE PEOPLE THAT PRESSURED ME KNEW I WAS RAISED CATHOLIC SO?? IDKK

ANYWAY SORRY I JUST SPRINGBOARDED AND STARTED RAMBLING CAUSE BEING CATHOLIC AND C.P./ PROTESTANT IS SO WILD????

#Religon is so wild #like rituals of catholicsm i think are really cool #m but mannnnn it is such a stuffy and stuck up relgion #and being autistic i never really bought into religon #but also the other mental illness sort of forced me to buy into it??#actually I THINK THATS SOMETHING WORTH EXPLAINING LMAO #later tho #cw religon #tw religon #cw church camp #tw church camp

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