HelpImStuckWriting
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Steve Harrington didn’t know what love was. He thought he did, a few times. He thought he loved his nanny the way his mother didn’t love him. He thought he loved Nancy the way he hadn’t loved someone else before her. He was wrong about that though, so how would he really know? He didn’t think he’d know what love was if it shoved itself in his face, called him an idiot, and bit him. He knew what love wasn’t, and that didn’t seem good enough. But when he was surrounded by club lights and the alcohol swam through his head, he felt like maybe he could learn, or least pretend for the night until he didn’t feel alone anymore; until he drove himself home in the early morning and felt the ache in his bones that said someone had been there with him, if only for a moment.
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Eddie Munson just wanted to steal Rick's boat, skip school for a day, and float until the sun dropped below the tree line and he could go back home. He didn't expect someone to come crashing through the trees and to find himself playing nurse and squire to King Steve like something straight out of a fantasy novel, or at least the ones that play in his head. But hey, he wasn't doing anything else today.
Steddie Bingo Prompt: Lake, Bike
Series
- Part 7 of Steddie Bingo 2025
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My Best Guess at the Future by HelpImStuckWriting for Little_Annie
Fandoms: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
05 May 2025
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Steve took in a deep breath as he zipped up Robin’s dress and clasped the delicate gold chain around her neck. He could feel her shoulders shaking under his fingertips, feel her nerves bleed into him like they shared one chest, one heart. He kissed her shoulder, let the chain go, and watched in the mirror as it caught the light, glittering around her bare neck.
He twirled a loose strand of her hair around his fingertip to fix its curl, and sprayed just one spritz of hairspray to hold it in place.
She looked beautiful.
She was beautiful.
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Steve loved his nanny growing up. As a kid, it made him feel special having someone that devoted their attention to him, especially when his parents were too busy to give him theirs. She would hold his hand when they went to the park, and she bought him treats when they were grocery shopping, and she taught him how to bake.
They made cookies and casseroles and bread, and it helped him a lot when his parents came home one day and told him he’d “outgrown” her. He’d kind of thought that she would stay forever — that she was more his family than his parents were — but when she was gone, he realized he didn’t even know her last name. For a while, it really fucked with him, realizing that the one person he thought cared about him was actually just there for a paycheck, that she wasn’t his family, that he was more alone than he’d ever been before.
But, the baking helped.
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Steddie Bingo Prompts: Competition, Recipe, Slice of Life
Series
- Part 6 of Steddie Bingo 2025
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The party creeps as quietly as they can into the stone chamber, the guards outside surprisingly easy to distract, a little suspiciously easy to distract. This was supposed to be the end goal, right? Everything they were here for? The king was nowhere to be found, the castle was packed with guards that fell one after the other, like dominos after the slightest tap. The chamber was the end of the line, allegedly filled with the gold stolen from countless families in the name of lining the crowns pockets, and the medicine that Nog’s family needed to survive, hoarded for only the highest bidders. Of course, who could bid on it, when every last penny had already been extorted from the families that needed it most? / Eddie has a little trick up his sleeve during the party's campaign, but Steve's got a little trick, too.
Steddie Bingo Prompt: True Love's Kiss
Series
- Part 5 of Steddie Bingo 2025
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The sheriff watched him for a moment, then he sighed and turned slightly. He reached out to open a cabinet door beside him, and pulled out a shelf. It was on a track, so it rolled out of the cabinet fairly easily, and held a small CCTV. Derek frowned and inched his chair to the side a little bit so he could get a better angle.
He was looking at a teenager, or someone at least young enough to be the same age as Scott. He was sitting on a bed in what looked to be a larger room, the area he was in surrounded by four glass walls, with his legs crossed and head tilted.
He was also staring directly into the camera, as if he knew someone was watching. A creepy smile slowly slid onto the teen’s face, and he held up one hand, wiggling his fingers in a slow, eery wave.
Derek felt his mouth run dry. He didn’t know who this kid was, but he didn’t like him.
“Who is that?” he asked quietly.
“That,” said the sheriff, “is my son.”
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Bookmarked by HelpImStuckWriting
28 Jun 2018
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“Well,” Stiles says, “if they’re going to hunt werewolves, I’m going to hunt them.”
It’s a ridiculous statement from a ten-year-old, but he’s obviously one hundred percent sincere. For the first time since the fire, Peter feels life stir inside him, feels purpose. It’s kismet, clearly. He’ll never meet the child he would have had with Olivia. Instead he’s met this boy, this brilliant, determined, cynical child with a world of potential.
Peter kneels down in front of him so they’re at eye level. “How do you feel about doing that together?”
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Bookmarked by HelpImStuckWriting
09 Jun 2018
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It’s 6:18 A.M. on a Monday, and Stiles is using his thumbs to shape the fondant butt of a Winnie the Pooh sculpture. It’s the most action he’s seen in a long time.
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Or the one where Stiles runs his own bakery, never locks the front door, and doesn't know he's part of a werewolf pack (until he does).
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Bookmarked by HelpImStuckWriting
27 Nov 2017
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“So I’m doing my senior psych thesis on friendships,” Erica says, not-so-accidentally elbowing Derek in the ribs as she turns to face Stiles. “How they develop, how intimacy is fostered, stuff like that.”
“That’s cool,” Stiles says agreeably. “What’s our part?”
“Well, I can’t really tell you the point because that would influence the results. But it’s a set of 36 questions that you have to ask each other.”
“Just the two of us?” Derek chimes in, finally, and Stiles sighs.
“Okay, dude,” he says, making a face, “could you try not to look quite so offended? Like, my ego’s pretty strong, but come on, man.”
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Bookmarked by HelpImStuckWriting
05 Apr 2017
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Derek, a young rich shoemaker passing by his old orphanage where he meets a boy.
Bookmarked by HelpImStuckWriting
14 Oct 2016