Rest Stop
Written for the prompt ‘rest’ for @steddiemicrofic
387 words / rated T / pre-slash
Recreational drug use
There’s a rest stop on the decommissioned road a little ways out of Hawkins. It’s not a lot of anything, a tin roof over a picnic table, but Steve likes it. Thinks of it as ‘his’ spot, even though Tommy H told him about it. But it’s a good place to be alone. To, well, rest.
And, sure, Hawkins is full of places like that, quiet, empty places, and alone isn’t something Steve likes to be that much, but nights like tonight…
He sighs, tips his beer to his lips. It doesn’t hit him often, but when it does, it’s a restless itch; he can get away from Hawkins, from his house, his job, his nonexistent love life, but he can’t get away from that feeling. Out here he gets close, though.
Tonight, his solitude is short-lived. Footsteps make Steve tense, and a deep voice cuts through the night: “Steve?”
The tension drains; Steve turns. “Hey, Eddie.”
Eddie blinks. “I found you.” He scratches his head, nods at the table Steve’s sitting on. “Mind if I…?”
“It’s a free country.”
“So I’m told.” Eddie’s lips quirk; he sits beside Steve, pulling a joint from his jacket. He waggles it; Steve nods.
“Why were you looking for me?”
An orange flame sparks from Eddie’s lighter, catching the end of the joint. “I wasn’t.” Eddie takes a drag, gives the joint to Steve.
“You said you found me…”
“Don’t have to be looking for you to find you.”
Steve shakes his head. “All right.” He takes a hit, relishing the pleasant buzz, passes it back.
“What brings the valiant Sir Steve out here?”
“I like the quiet.”
“That a hint for me to shut my yap?”
“No.” Steve knocks their shoulders together. “I like listening to you talk.” Why did he say that? He doesn’t really care. Huh.
Surprise flickers over Eddie’s face, but it settles into something pleased. “Good.” He winks. “Because I have plenty of stories to tell.”
After a few moments, Steve says, “Well,” waving his hand, “go ahead.”
Eddie’s eyes sparkle; he starts talking, gesticulating wildly, and Steve realizes the restlessness is gone. Maybe it’s the weed. He’s pretty sure it’s all Eddie.
Okay. Something to look at later. For now, he basks in Eddie’s voice and the easy, restful feeling of being near him.
310 notes
·
View notes
back when I used to post pics of our chickens more often, cute photoshoots etc, naturally some people would be like "ahh I want to have chickens so bad!! maybe I should get some backyard chickens, it looks so fun..." and I just need to tell you that if you want to raise and keep poultry, you may need the Disgust Tolerance of a farmer.
you MAY NEED the disgust tolerance of an old farmer, because you may need to be okay with putting three separate pieces of a chicken into a bag with your (gloved) hand. you MAAAAY need to sew up a chicken's cut open crop because the feed she's eating keeps just falling out of the hole. IT IS POSSIBLE that you might have to look at / touch maggots in a major way in order to treat a chicken with flystrike. And much, much more!
246 notes
·
View notes
Dante’s notes cutscene where everyone in the bus is having a meal together and each of them is enjoying their respective hamhampangpang dishes. Nothing too evocative, besides the fact it’s their favorites, except that... Ryoshu’s wordlessly crying over her oyakodon on her seat. Dante sees this and loudly train honks, catching everyone’s attention.
<Ryoshu????! Oh my god is she alright I’ve never seen her cry before??!>
She mutters out a “I.M.M.D.” to which Sinclair mindlessly translates with his mouth full of Rösti. That is when we get the reveal that, huh, she has a daughter.
179 notes
·
View notes
What’s smithy’s favorite food other than pepto bismol?
Kevin's Smoothies
I KID. He tolerates those because food made specifically for him is always going to be his favorite food. He associates someone making something with him in mind as like the NICEST THING. So he'll drink / eat without a single complaint
It's hard to pick a single thing XD
#1 is his Grandma's pies.
You may say 'well that's dessert' you would be correct but also WRONG.
GS has range and she makes a mean Shepherd's pie and an even meaner Chicken Pot Pie.
76 notes
·
View notes
I never understood the humor of rubber chickens until my friend and I were in a novelty shop one time and we saw these giant rubber chickens labeled "ONLY SQUEAK ONCE."
So naturally this piqued our interest. That degree of retail employee aggravation doesn't happen randomly. We had to squeak it.
So my friend squeezes this thing and you can hear it inhale. It gasps in air like a 75 year old pack-a-day smoker. wwwhhhhhheeeeEEEEEEZE. You can FEEL the tension in the air while you're holding this thing tight. By this point we were already losing our shit at what we were about to witness.
He lets go and the trumpets of hell ring out over the novelty shop. Immediately we understood that the "one squeak" rule was not only to protect the employees, but also to spare every neighbor within a mile radius. I did not know a piece of plastic could produce that sound. This is the gift you give to the children of people who ratted you out to the cops. This is a thing you use to euthanize small animals. I cannot possibly commit the sound it made to text, but if I tried, it would be "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
We absolutely lost it. My stomach hurt so bad from laughing. I wanted to buy it but I knew I could never let it squawk again, lest we get noise complaints and/or permanently damage our hearing. But it was in this moment, where we were dying with laughter at a giant rubber chicken, that I understood the longstanding tradition of crafting roosters from plastic to make them wail ungodly wails.
17 notes
·
View notes