orange

@stilloranged

please call me orange! // (formerly stilloranged and orangecrushed on twitter) // robotmango on tumblr // orange_crushed on ao3 // she/her // 30+ 🔞

149 Folgt722 Follower3.535 Posts

Bluesky

Ist das dein Profil?Übernimm es — dann gehört dir stilloranged.dirty.social.Profil übernehmen

orange@stilloranged· 6d

still working on another weird harringrove fic, and they are still having an amazing time trapped in [redacted] and being wildly up in each other's business. if you saw this on tumblr already i'm sorry! i'm just so very excited to be tormenting billy hargrove

Harrington pushes his knees over and sits kind of under them, and closes the door so it’s warm again.

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” he says.

“If?” Billy prompts. Harrington stares at him.

“If we get out of here alive,” Harrington says, enunciating it slow like he thinks Billy’s a moron, “I’m not telling anybody.”

“There’s a lot I could say about you,” Billy says.

Harrington snorts. Rests his head backwards. His long neck stretches out, and his Adam’s apple makes a gentle hill.

“You want insurance?” Harrington says, bizarrely.

“Like what?”

“Like I blow you,” Harrington says.

Billy’s entire body flushes hot and cold. He kicks Harrington in the knee, but Harrington grabs his ankle and holds it tight, warningly. Billy’s dick throbs so hard his pulse is probably visible in his neck artery.

orange@stilloranged· Jun 3

orange@stilloranged· Jun 1

chapter 4/6 of "vomit the heart" is posted: archiveofourown.org/works/852015... (harringrove, season 2 canon divergence, warnings for body horror, possession, and self-injury) in which there is a cup of water, a bloody hand, a chimera, and several reasons to keep going.

When he wakes again it’s night; he didn’t know it was daytime, before, but now it isn’t anymore, he can tell from the shadows in the bedroom, and the empty mouth of the open doorway and the black ceiling in the main part of the cabin. Out there, there’s flickering. Someone’s watching a muted television. In here somebody’s turned on the lamp on top of the dresser, so he’s not entirely in the dark. The mercy of that feels like an icepick to the heart.

Billy must make a sound, because there’s silence, and then there’s a creak, and socked feet padding over. Harrington sways into the doorway, hair a flattened mess like he was lying on one side. He looks at Billy, and Billy looks at him, biting his cheek.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Harrington says, gravel-throated. He’s been at a bottle of something. His consonants are sliding around. “You did it all day.”

“I’m… not,” Billy says.

“Stop it,” Harrington says.

orange@stilloranged· May 25

chapter 3/6 of "vomit the heart" is posted! link: archiveofourown.org/works/852015... (harringrove, season 2 canon divergence, warnings for body horror, possession, self-injury, and in this chapter attempted suicide) in which billy remembers how it started, meets a girl, and gets free the hard way

When he blinks, his toes are in sand. Warm seawater’s lapping him. When he looks down the little broken crusty bits of seashell wink at him, mother-of-pearl insides glimmering. Ground-down green glass. His feet are small, with rounded babyish toenails. There's a purple bruise on his left forefoot.

“I’ll only tell you once,” Billy says, without lifting his head. “Stay the fuck out of this. Don't ever fucking try to take me here again.”

The water laps him again. And then he's standing in his socks on the rug in his bedroom in his dad's house. It's just the way it was when he left that night. The lamp’s on, and the room is yellow, and he didn't make his bed even though he's supposed to do it every day. There's magazines spread over it, and the stereo's on faintly. Maybe it's supposed to make him feel nostalgic. Safe. What a funny idea. “What do you want?” Billy says.

The girl looks at him from the open doorway.

“Will you show me?” she says. “Steve?”

orange@stilloranged· May 23

chapter 2/6 of "vomit the heart" is posted! link: archiveofourown.org/works/852015... (harringrove, season 2 canon divergence, mindflayer, ⚠️ big warnings for self-injury, burns, body horror, and dubious consent in this chapter) billy hires and fires a babysitter, tries to apologize, and lets go.

orange@stilloranged· May 20

the #harringrove mindflayer fic is posted! "vomit the heart." (1/6) link: archiveofourown.org/works/852015... (season 2 canon divergence, temporary character death, body horror, please heed the many tags for gore, medical stuff, burns, suicidal ideation, and uh, billy hargrove's whole deal.)

Vomit the heart.
By orange_crushed

Summary:
When the teacher turns away, Harrington sighs. Slouches in his seat. Tips his head back far enough that their eyes accidentally meet. It's not Harrington who looked away first. It almost never was. In the dream, though, Billy can look and look. And look, and look, and look. The devil doesn't mind about this part of him. Maybe appreciates how useful it is.

”…leave the family, flee the church, kill the vermin, vomit the heart, forget the dead.”
—Jenny Holzer

Rating:
Explicit

Archive Warning:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Category:
M/M

Fandom:
Stranger Things (TV 2016)

Relationship:
Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington

Characters:
Billy Hargrove
Steve Harrington
Jim "Chief" Hopper
Eleven | Jane Hopper
Joyce Byers
Heather Holloway
Maxine "Max" Mayfield
Nancy Wheeler
Jonathan Byers
Sam Owens (Stranger Things)

Additional Tags:
Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery
Shadow Monster | Mind Flayer Possessing Billy Hargrove
Post-Shadow Monster | Mind Flayer Possessing Billy Hargrove
Timeline What Timeline
Body Horror
Temporary Character Death
Blood and Violence
Blood and Gore
Torture
Burn injuries
Graphic Description of Corpses
Accidental Death
Resurrection
Car Accidents
Head Injury
Implied/Referenced Child Abuse
Past Abuse
Choking
Hospitalization
Medical Experimentation
Suicidal Thoughts
Passive Suicidality
Oral Sex
Anal Sex
Coming In Pants
Fingers in Mouth
Hopeful Ending
Catholic Billy Hargrove
Deal with a Devil
Heavy Angst
Temporary Amnesia
Dreams/Visions/Dreamspaces
Angst with a Happy Ending
Not Actually Unrequited Love
Period-Typical Homophobia
Internalized Homophobia
Bed-Wetting
Mildly Dubious Consent
Guilt
Vomiting
Self-Harm
Season 2 Fight Divergence - Accidental Death (But It Doesn't Stick)
Recreational Drug Use
Smoking

Language:
English
Stats:
Published: 2026-05-20
Updated: 2026-05-20
Words: 7,498
Chapters:1/6

orange@stilloranged· May 19

#harringrove #wip random snippet because i'm stuck in a waiting room

Jane wanders into the poppy field, turning her face up to the sun, running her fingertips along the tops of the flowers.

Harrington lies down on his back. He coils his right ankle onto his left knee, plays with a long stalk of foxtail. It bobs around restlessly like he’s thinking. After a while Billy stretches out next to him, head pillowed on one arm. Harrington looks at him sideways, then wrinkles his face and plucks away a stray frond of something that’s stuck itself up his nose. “Can’t you control your weeds?” Harrington says.

“Mine?”

“Yeah, it’s your memory,” Harrington says. “Tell your plants to behave.”

“I didn’t invent fucking grass,” Billy says.

orange@stilloranged· May 16

billy hargrove's like "horror story? yeah of course it's a horror story, it's set in indiana" #harringrove #wip

“Right,” Billy says. “Gonna be the party of the decade. I’ll shine up my fancy pitchfork and my best cowfucking boots.”

“Stay home and jerk off instead, then,” Harrington shrugs. “It’s a free country.”

He scrubs out his finished butt on the rotten damp edge of the picnic table. Drops it into their watery ancient coffee-can ashtray that's sometimes here and sometimes rolling on the ground somewhere; seems like there's a kid around with an airgun who's been borrowing it for target practice. Community property, overused, unloved. Characteristically prone to abuse.

“You bringing anybody?” Billy says, to torment himself. Maybe both of them. The whole school knows about Wheeler by now, practically old news. The hit lands and Harrington glances away for a second. He is maybe a little bit stupid, the way he goes around visibly feeling stuff in public.

orange@stilloranged· May 11

#harringrove #wip someone said "no" to billy hargrove and he's taking it about as well as one might expect

“I bet you’ve never touched a pucker that wasn’t yours.”

”Don’t waste your money,” Harrington says.

They’re still pressed tight together. Harrington can definitely feel what reaction that gets. Billy doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction, but he’s not in charge of what makes his dick fill.

”With girls?” Billy scoffs.

”Yeah, with girls,” Harrington says, warily.

“Wheeler let you hit the back?”

”Shut up, Billy,” Harrington says, and Billy feels a rush of queasy satisfaction at his tone.

“Surprised she had it in her,” Billy says. “Little prissy princess, letting you fuck the rosebud,” but his voice goes cartoonish on <i>rosebud</i>, like Porky Pig’s, because Harrington pinches Billy’s nose shut. It’s absurd and startling. “What the fuck,” Billy says, pushing his hand off. “Are you six?”

”I’m not going to do this with you,” Harrington says.

orange@stilloranged· May 8

on the same playlist: "control" by mannequin pussy. billy hargrove screaming on the rail in this with the sleeves cut off. he's not crying

orange@stilloranged· May 8

HAWKINSCORE

orange@stilloranged· May 6

girl i. girl it's. it's. knowing it. knowing it IS the-

Screenshot of a Bluesky post from "The Guardian," linking to an article titled "Richard Dawkins concludes AI is conscious, even if it doesn’t know it"

orange@stilloranged· May 3

[me telling my story how I survived a plane crash and lived on a deserted island for a year] it was crazy
[friend who once got a text from me where I accidentally called the grinch the grink] was the grink there?

orange@stilloranged· May 3

final chapter (11/11) of "dogs on main street" is posted! link: archiveofourown.org/works/790499... (stranger things au, steddie, harringrove, steve/eddie/billy; heed tags for pregnancy, hospitals, shitty dads.) a faint, a fight, minor easter miracles, and the best bread in town.

In the morning, while Steve’s finishing in the shower, somebody knocks on the trailer door. Eddie itches his stomach and yawns and opens the door and then slams it shut again out of reflexive, automatic terror.

There’s a pause outside. And then more knocking.

“Fuck!” Eddie says.

“Who is it?” Billy says, in the kitchen.

“It’s Steve’s fucking dad,” Eddie whispers. Billy’s eyes narrow. Then he flicks the stove burner off. “No, no, no,” Eddie says, and points towards Steve’s bedroom. Then towards the kitchen window. “You, go—go literally anywhere else. Into the woods. Leave town!”

“I need to talk to him,” Billy says, like talking would even be involved.

“Go away!” Eddie says, shoving him into the hall. Steve’s dad is still banging on the front door, harder now, like he knows Billy’s inside and he’s desperate to get murdered as soon as possible. “I’ll handle it!”

orange@stilloranged· May 2

grading accomplished. finally allowing myself to relax via the au harringrove horror fic.... in this episode billy hargrove backtalks the mindflayer for its shitty resource management #wip

Billy opens his eyes.

The ceiling is flat. The underside of a floor. The shelves loom above his stretched body, empty glass jars, old toolboxes. He can see in the dark, see the mice and the spiders, the spiders’ molted husks. It’s still winter, so most of the small many-legged things are lifeless, dead or inert, but even the remaining insects don't touch him while he's sleeping. Or while he's lying still, awake. He thought they might, but they never have; there's something so wrong with his flesh that even flies won't approach it. In this case he's not complaining. It's the smallest kind of mercy not to be crawled on. Though what would it matter, really. He's been crawled in.

Billy gets up.

Tonight it's a man at the grocery store. Furthest edge of the lot. Fumbling with his keys in the dark, paper bag tucked to his hip, heavy with who knows what. Human food, tasteless and uninteresting anymore. Snow dusts the ground and leaves their footprints in two lines: one approaching the other, then following, perpendicular becoming parallel. He did learn a few things in school.

“Hey,” Billy says.

The man startles. Drops his clattering keyring. “Let me get that for you,” Billy says.

“Thanks,” the guy says.

Then he looks at Billy's shirt, his bare filthy arms, and blinks.

I told you, Billy thinks, with resignation. I told you, I need to be cleaner if you want me to do this. I need to be clean and look normal. Be dressed right. But you never fucking listen to me. Do you?

Pain lances through. Answer enough. It's like an icepick straight to the skull, so sharp and pure his eyes water and overflow like he's crying. But he stays standing; the pain comes from the same thing that keeps his legs steady no matter what. It wouldn't let him fall.

Do not forget, the devil says. Our gift.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Thank you, sir. Fuck you, sir. Sometimes he feels he's almost made the devil laugh. Almost feels it might be capable. This might be something he's only imagining.

orange@stilloranged· Apr 26

opened my nearly dead phone this morning and discovered that at some point i'd opened bluesky at the club. clearly i had important thoughts to share

pictured: a drunk bitch's unintelligible attempt at a status update

orange@stilloranged· Apr 14

i just want you to have this. just hold onto this for me for a sec

He waves off another hit and wanders away. Touching the walls with one hand like he might tip over. Billy follows him down the hallway, a few steps behind. He did then, too. It's all the same. Harrington stops at the end of the hall, by the closed bathroom door. Billy never knew whose house it was. “Whadyou want,” Harrington says, back to the wall. “More advice about my feet?”

He laughs at his own dumb joke.

“You’re the life of the party tonight,” Billy says. “Back on your throne.”

Harrington's eyes are like a doll's when he’s high, the middles bigger than horse chestnuts, the same perfect brown color.

“Come the fuck on,” Harrington says.

“You sure can't take a compliment,” Billy says.

orange@stilloranged· Apr 13

involuntary, uh, man's laughter

Harrington nods. Turns like he’s going to head for the sofa. “Hey,” Billy says, and Harrington turns back halfway, half-lit. The first time Billy ever saw him was in the hallway outside the school office; he’d squinted and smiled reflexively after a second, bemused. Like he couldn’t imagine what Billy was looking for, but was rooting for him to go find it. “What’re… you drinking,” Billy says.

Harrington looks bemused now, too.

“Hopper’s shit whiskey,” Harrington says. “It’ll probably fuck your stomach.”

Billy laughs. Probably harder than he should. It’s not funny. You’re not supposed to know what antifreeze tastes like. Harrington brings him a tiny bit of watered whiskey in a mug. The mug says HARDLY WORKIN’. Harrington puts it to his lips. Billy drinks and chokes in disgust and then finishes it. “Drain cleaner,” Harrington says, like he'd even know. “I told you.”

“Tastes great,” Billy rasps.

orange@stilloranged· Apr 9

best star trek crew, wrong answers only

Photo of the cast of "Psych," including Shawn and Gus, Juliette, Lassiter, the Chief, and Henry. They would go absolutely bananas if allowed in space and require 400 new Starfleet accords

orange@stilloranged· Apr 8

😘 just for you, here:

In the cold damp of the root cellar, Billy dreams.

American history, third period. Leon Czolgosz has just murdered President McKinley at some kind of big fair. In real life, in his real class, there was no odor of gunpowder and blood, but there is down here, right now. It's strong and delicious. Everyone's bodies reek of sweat and pulse and growing hair, pussy and cotton and unwashed gym-class ballsack, flowery laundry detergent. Hair products and imperfect deodorant, both copiously applied. Harrington is two rows over, two seats up. Scrunched into his chair, his big shoulders curled over his textbook. Frowning at it. Tammy Thompson's opening a bottle of nail polish behind her own propped-up book so she can fix a chipped edge. Everyone can immediately smell the acetate, wrinkling their noses; in the dream it smells wonderful to him, sweet on his tongue, the way bleach has started to taste.

orange@stilloranged· Mar 29

chapter 10 of "dogs on main street" is up! link: archiveofourown.org/works/790499... (stranger things au, steddie, harringrove, steve/eddie/billy; heed tags for pregnancy, angst, alcoholism.) a trip to the dump, a trip to the quarry, and then seven minutes in heaven, give or take.

Billy shows up with a duffel and an entire thirty-rack of Miller as a hostess gift. Already chilled! Like he thinks he's meeting the queen!

“You buttering me up, Emily Post?” Eddie says. “Goddamn. You better watch it, I’ve blown people for less.”

Billy bumps their beer cans together.

“Me too,” he shrugs.

“Hear ye, let thee most honorable Society of Sluts be called to order,” Eddie says, and then immediately and excruciatingly regrets his wording. Billy’s eyes dart towards you-know-who and then back again, but he sips his beer and says absolutely nothing, probably because he wants to fucking live.

“I heard that,” Steve says.

“Jesus, I wasn’t talking about you!” Eddie says, anxiously. “Stay in the kitchen!”

“Stay,” Steve repeats, “in the kitchen?”

orange@stilloranged· Mar 23

chapter 9 of "dogs on main street" is up! link: archiveofourown.org/works/790499... (stranger things au, steddie, harringrove, eventual steve/eddie/billy; heed tags for pregnancy, angst, + alcohol poisoning and alcoholism feature in this chapter.) a crisis, a confession, and some lottery tickets.

"What are you doing?” Max says, flabbergasted, on the other side of the kitchen island. Eddie leaps out of his skin and bangs his elbow on the refrigerator. Billy knocks into the stove. Steve just turns a fascinating color and crosses his arms over his chest; Max’s incredulous stare tries hard to skin all of them alive for a second. Eddie’s actually getting sweaty. Fuck. She’s scary even with hair that looks like birds nested in it. “What the hell is going on?”

“None of your business,” Billy snaps.

“Are you... two-timing him?” Max demands, looking between them.

“Who are you asking?” Eddie says.

Max opens her mouth. And then shuts it again.

orange@stilloranged· Mar 23

boys' night at the introspection hole #wip

“Fuck’s sake, walk on your own two legs,” Billy mutters, but doesn’t drop him. “Fucking stumbling pony.”

“Carry me, my prince?” Eddie says, batting his eyes. Okay, now Billy drops him.

It's a long time since Eddie's been out to the quarry.

The air's crisp, but not currently trying to kill them, so they get out of the cab and sit in the back of the truck and stare up at the couple of stars and satellites bright enough to show their faces. It's mostly overcast, a mumbly grey night, and the wind moves across the water and the cleaved-off side of the hill, where somebody a long time ago saw some limestone they wanted, and took it, and took more, and then decided they were finished. You can't replant limestone like a tree, of course. It stays a hole forever.

“You falling asleep?” Billy says, after what might've been twenty minutes, or some kind of magical hundred-years spell. Eddie chews a torn thumbnail and wonders just how willing he is to risk being rolled out of the truckbed and left here. A medium amount, it seems. Eddie opens his mouth.

orange@stilloranged· Mar 18

i'm so happy to be writing eddie and max together, you have no idea..... hargrove is at work feeling a goose walk over his grave #wip

Max snorts.

“Don’t you have a measuring cup?” she says. Eddie stares at the gloop he’s put together, and the unopened bag of flour, and then shuts his eyes and sighs from the bottom of his soul.

“How do you feel about McDonald’s,” Eddie says.

“Better than I feel about your bowl of shit,” Max says. Christ, wherever didst she obtain such fine manners.

Eddie gives her a Metallica hoodie to wear under her coat, since it’s even colder this morning than it was yesterday night. “This hoodie smells like weed,” Max says, in the car.

“Heavens!” Eddie says. “The devil’s lettuce? Say it isn’t so!”

Max laughs. Then suppresses it, and glares out of the window again.

They get four sausage biscuits and a pile of hash browns and some orange juice and coffee, and Eddie drives them to a field behind the Methodist church, where they can sit and eat without worrying whether a truant officer is going to hear about it. With food in her stomach, Max is mildly less homicidal. Eddie lets her turn the radio to whatever she wants, which even she seems to realize is a prize and an honor.

“Billy likes this song,” Max says.

“This song?” Eddie says.

“Yeah?”

“These Dreams... by Heart,” Eddie says, slowly, just to be absolutely certain, for future blackmail purposes.

“I don’t know what it’s called,” Max says. “But I think he just put it on a tape for Steve.”

“Did—he,” Eddie coughs, near death.

orange@stilloranged· Mar 17

chapter 8 of "dogs on main street" is posted: archiveofourown.org/works/790499... (stranger things au, steddie, harringrove, eventual steve/eddie/billy; heed tags for pregnancy, angst, minor weight issues in this chapter.) a movie, a trip to wonderland, and eddie + steve versus the mall.

Hargrove snorts. He comes to sit on the couch with Eddie, knocks his feet over and sits in their spot.

“Oh, the royal footrest has arrived,” Eddie says, and sticks his heels back onto Hargrove's leg. Hargrove silently pushes them off again. Eddie puts them back. Hargrove glares, then glances into the kitchen, and then settles in his seat and sighs. With Eddie's feet still stuck in his lap.

“Gonna wash my truck with your fuckin’ curly head,” Hargrove mutters.

Eddie laughs.

“The imagery,” he says. “I can't even be mad.”

“You'll be mad when I dump you in the bucket and wring you out,” Hargrove says.

orange@stilloranged· Mar 11

tell your friends, eddie munson loves the gap #wip

“She’s coming back for the summer, right?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, while they wander into The Gap. Eddie shivers slightly, crossing the threshold; some sort of anti-degenerate ward was probably laid into the floor. Circle of salt, maybe. Ram’s blood. “Maybe?” Steve goes on saying. “She was thinking about this… translator internship thing, I told her she should go for it, but she’s dragging her feet.”

“It’s in Hawkins?”

“No, Chicago,” Steve says. He circles the same rack of pants again, pulls out a pair, puts it back. “She keeps saying she doesn’t want to, but she obviously wants to, she’s just being, you know. Robin about it.”

“Steve,” Eddie says.

“Yeah?”

“You’re gonna have a fucking baby in June,” Eddie says. “Are you insane?” Steve glances around warily, then looks at Eddie like he’s considering clapping a hand over his mouth. “Be for real. Buckley’s not skipping off to Chicago.”

“It’s for her career,” Steve huffs.

“She’d hit you with a shoe right now for even thinking this,” Eddie says. He lifts a trembling hand up. “I can actually feel her trying to take over my body.”

Steve rolls his eyes.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” a lady says.

“Oh, yeah, hi,” Steve says. “Do you have these with, um. Elastic?”

“I’m afraid not,” she says. She gives Steve's parka and sweats a condescending look. “You could try Sears.”

“Thanks,” Steve says, hollowly.

“You guys sell asshole cream?” Eddie says. “The kind that makes you a big asshole? What’s your staff discount on that like? I bet you buy in bulk.”

orange@stilloranged· Mar 10

chapter 7 of "dogs of main street," hot and fresh: archiveofourown.org/works/790499... (stranger things au, steddie, harringrove, eventual steve/eddie/billy; heed tags for pregnancy, angst, miscommunication, food issues in this chapter.) eddie makes a gambit; the pieces move just a hair closer.

“Eddie, man,” Dougie sighs.

“Don’t Eddie, man, me, you son of a bitch,” Eddie says. He lifts his empty glass. “Refill this and give me a fucking job. I’ll stick socks in your tailpipe. I’ll marry your fucking dad and give you brothers.”

“My stepmom would knock your teeth out,” Dougie says. Eddie makes a noise of fury and lies down again. Dougie brings him another pint of Stroh's with too much fucking foam on top.

“How do you still suck at that,” Eddie complains.

“How do you still think I’m gonna let you run a tab,” Dougie frowns. “I think you got kind of a bad view up there on your high horse, dude.”

“Fuck,” Eddie says.

orange@stilloranged· Mar 6

détente reached in the house of harrington #wip

Hargrove sips his beer. Eddie gets one out of the fridge and cracks it, and holds it out, and Hargrove taps their cans together. “When I can drink again I’m going to get a fucking keg,” Steve says. Hargrove laughs. “Laugh it up,” Steve says. “I’ll beat your record.”

“Oh, will you,” Hargrove says.

“What’s his record?”

“Forty-one seconds,” Steve says.

“Forty-two,” Hargrove corrects.

“Bullshit,” Steve says. “I was there.”

“Yeah, so, you know it was forty-two,” Hargrove says.

“What is it about certain guys,” Steve says, leaning against the counter, crossing his arms, “that they always wanna <i>insist</i> it’s a little bit longer than it was?”

Eddie snorts beer up his nose. Hargrove leans back in his seat. Splays a knee out.

“Maybe I forgot,” Hargrove says, slowly. “Maybe it was just a real girthy forty-one. I didn’t hear anybody complaining.”

“Wow,” Steve says.

“You fucking jocks, man,” Eddie says. “Your kegstands and your jungle juice. White lightning in the woods isn’t good enough for you?”

“I’ve done that,” Steve says, thoughtfully.

“Hicksville,” Hargrove says.

“You drive an F-100,” Eddie scoffs. “Shitkicker by proxy. You just need that one piece of wheat stuck in your teeth.”

“Children of the fucking corn,” Hargrove snorts.

orange@stilloranged· Mar 3

chapter 6 of "dogs on main street" is posted: archiveofourown.org/works/790499... (stranger things au, steddie, harringrove, eventual steve/eddie/billy; heed tags for pregnancy, angst, miscommunication.) steve takes a break, eddie takes a hike, and hargrove gets a squished peanut-butter sandwich.

He pops the screen door open, and it comes off in his hand. He really should've worn gloves. It would be crazy if tetanus is what actually gets him.

“Yikes,” Eddie mutters.

He stands in what used to be the living room, bandanna over his face. The whole place has sagged so bad that it's like standing on a see-saw with one leg bent and one straight. Right there is where their chipped table used to be; there was a time when he and Wayne used to do puzzles on it together. Then Eddie used to paint figurines there, and copy pages from comic books. Unlike Will he never got good enough at that to stop tracing directly; all he did was follow the lines and then add a few things, belt pouches, different hairdos, stupid improbable weapons, and then color them in. Wayne didn't keep the pictures, wasn't sentimental like that. But he always kept buying Eddie paper, all the paper he wanted, so he could make absolute crap over and over and over. There's the depressed spot on the carpet where the TV stand permanently sat, a rectangle that directed the course of Eddie's days and nights. Fantasy films full of bad wigs, cartoons, old Marx brothers stuff, midday mystery movies in black-and-white. It used to stay on all day when Wayne was at work, keeping Eddie company. He's still in the habit of talking to it.

Eddie crouches down. The floor's too gross to fully sit on.

orange@stilloranged· Feb 27

eddie munson is seeking steady employment in a collaborative, dynamic environment #wip