#and it’s way way worse than any jealousy he had over Nancy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovebugism · 1 year

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✶ ┄ FIX IT !

summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3

Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.

But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.

So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.

You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.

It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.

Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours.

So it really shouldn’t bother you.

And it didn’t. Not for a while.

Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.

He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.

Maybe both.

What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.

She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).

“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”

You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.

She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.

But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve.

And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.

You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.

Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.

Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.

Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.

You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.

Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.

Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—

You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.

You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.

When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.

Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.

Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.

Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.

“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.

The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”

“…What?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”

“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.

It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.

His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.

Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress.

He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.

You don’t.

“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”

You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.

“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”

“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.

He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.

“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”

“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.

“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.

Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”

He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”

You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.

You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him.

“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.

“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”

You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.

Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely.

He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.

Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.

It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.

But he can’t even do that.

He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.

It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.

You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice.

“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”

“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”

“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.

“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.

The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.

“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”

“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.

When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.

“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”

Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.

“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”

He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”

“What is?”

“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”

Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.

It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.

It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.

“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”

He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.

When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.

It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.

And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.

But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.

You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.

Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.

But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”

“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.

He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.

“No.”

“…No?”

“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”

“Baby—”

“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.

“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”

You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.

“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”

“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”

“Steve—”

“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.

He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.

“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”

Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.

It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.

“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.

He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.

It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break.

You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.

You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it.

Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.

“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.

He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #published by bug #st oneshots

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idlyfretting · 1 year

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they are longing to stray

(Read on Ao3)

Steve tried to ignore the empty cushion next to him, staring determinedly at the TV across the room. He’d popped in a VHS without looking at the case, before settling down with his reheated leftovers. It was some subpar action movie, one that he pretended to like more than he actually did just to annoy Robin.

The absence of her running commentary somehow made the movie worse.

He hadn’t seen Robin in two weeks. It was the longest they’d gone without talking to each other since Starcourt.

Steve picked at the fried rice in his lap, moving it around more than actually eating it. It was the last bit of food in the fridge. He needed to stop on his way home tomorrow and stock up. He should have done it last week, but he hadn’t really felt like doing anything last week.

He missed her.

God, this is worse than a break up. He would have laughed at himself if he wasn’t so fucking sad.

It was like Robin had taken half his soul with him when she’d stormed out of their apartment two Saturdays ago. Like she’d packed her duffle, snagged her jacket off of the counter, and ripped his arms off on her way out the door. He didn’t feel like a whole person anymore.

One of their coworkers at the coffee shop had called them ‘unhealthily codependent’ once. Steve thought he understood what they’d meant now.

He wanted Robin back. He’d do anything to get her to walk back through that door, call him an asshole, and stomp into her room. He’d take the silent treatment over her just being gone. Hell, he’d take five more screaming matches and hurt feelings, and words neither of them mean to say but can never take back, over this emptiness.

The worst thing is he knows where she is. He knows the number he could call. He could beg for forgiveness, say he was sorry a million times, tell her he’d never say anything about who she wants to date ever again.

He could say he was lying when he’d shouted that it wasn’t jealousy, even though that would be a lie itself. He could say that he didn’t know anything about healthy relationships, he had no place to judge.

He could call. But he also couldn’t. Because Robin probably didn’t want him to, wanted him to keep his apologies to himself. She probably wanted him to fuck off and never talk to her again. She hadn’t called him after all. And after a conversation with one of her friends at NYU, he realized she hadn’t called anyone except her professors, telling them she had to leave town for a bit and asking for extensions or forwarded schoolwork. Dana had asked if Steve knew what had happened.

“I’m trying not to be worried, but this just isn’t like her.”

“She’ll be back. She wouldn’t just drop out in the middle of the semester.” Steve had told himself that repeatedly, trying to soothe his own worry.

“I know, I know. You’re right. But it still doesn’t make any sense. Did anything happen? Nothing seemed wrong in any of the classes we share, so maybe it was a personal thing–” She interrupted herself with a gasp. “Oh my god . Was it a girl? I know she was talking to that one from Boston, got all flustered whenever she brought her up. Do you think it had anything to do with that?”

Steve hadn’t known how to answer that. What was he supposed to say?

Yeah, it was about that girl from Boston. But not really, I guess. It was more to do with how Robin had somehow fallen ass over teakettle in love with my ex, who had been visiting New York with her girlfriend for a few days and then kept coming back alone every weekend after that to hang out with Robin.

And then Robin came home one morning after staying out all night with her, and said they’d kissed and then more-than-kissed and then decided they wanted to start dating each other.

And instead of being happy for her, I opened my big mouth and said “Fuck, not again.”

So he couldn’t call Robin. Because that would mean calling her in Boston.

Which would mean calling Nancy.

And one: he really didn’t want to do that.

Two: he was pretty sure she’d just hang up on him anyway, especially if Robin had told her about their fight.

Three: if she didn’t hang up, all he probably would have gotten was Tina’s Halloween Party: The Sequel. Which was maybe a little unfair of him to think. But he was sad and his best friend was gone, so fuck it. He could be a little bitter. It helped him with the guilt that was eating away at his brain.

Fuck, he missed Robin.

He dumped the leftovers into the trash, having only eaten a few bites. He washed the tupperware on autopilot. It was starting to stain, they’d need to replace the set soon. They’d… he’d?

He hoped it was still a they. He hoped he hadn’t fucked this up beyond repair. Robin would come back. Steve would grovel. She’d call him a dingus. And they’d never bring up Nancy ever again.

That would be difficult with Robin and Nancy dating of course, but Steve was aces at ignoring shit when he didn’t want to talk about it. And he had the feeling Robin would be okay with this one exception to their ‘telling each other absolutely everything, even when it was gross’ schtick.

He shut off the TV and the lights and made his way to his bedroom in the dark. The room he had here in New York could not be more different that the one he’d had back in Hawkins. His high school bedroom had been plucked right out of a Home & Gardens spread, no personality and absolutely no warmth. The room he was in now was painted a creamy yellow and covered in posters and pictures and paintings. The small desk in the corner was overflowing with loose leaf papers, random textbooks, and unwashed clothes. It looked more like a teenager’s room than his actual one had.

On his first visit to their apartment, Dustin had taken one step into his room, smiled, and said “So this is what it feels like to be inside your head.”

With the lights off, Steve could barely make out anything, seeing mostly dark rectangles on the walls and messy blobs piled on the floor. He stripped down to his boxers and face planted into his bed. Sleep was unlikely, but maybe if he closed his eyes and pretended hard enough, he could get enough rest to make it through tomorrow without crying.

(Read on Ao3)

#stranger things fanfic #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #robin buckley #st fanfic #post season 4 #steve and robin are in new york #and they fight #and it's sad

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atmilliways · 9 months

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Wrong On The Money (16)

part 16 of ?? | 706 words | Teen+

Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr

Summary:

“Harrington,” Eddie hisses, playing hopscotch over evil vines in hell trying to catch up. “Hey, Harring—Steve! Hold up a second.”

I've got 12k of this story so far, but I think this was my favorite part to write because what the fuck Steve. 😂

16.

“Harrington,” Eddie hisses, playing hopscotch over evil vines in hell trying to catch up. “Hey, Harring—Steve! Hold up a second.”

Maybe it’s the use of his first name, but the guy does slow down a bit. Enough for Eddie to pull up even with him, get a good look at his face in the barely-there light of the Upside Down filtering through the trees.

And by face, he means chest. But, shit, the guy is wearing his battle vest and Eddie is a healthy young gay man in the presence of a bloodied superhero.

It actually does very little for his modesty. He’d thrown it to Steve more for covering up any bleed-through on the make-shift bandages, especially over his sides where the bites are deepest. Mostly because Harrington . . . Steve had seemed more resigned than accepting of Nancy’s fussing when she’d tended to him earlier. Only a little bit because of the irrational stab of jealousy Eddie had felt watching it happen.

Which is stupid, so so stupid, because this is a hero he has been blackmailing for the past four months.

The nod of acknowledgement Steve gives him is far more neutral than that fact should allow. “Eddie, hey. Uh, look—” and he makes this self-deprecating little grimace that Eddie must be reading wrong “—thanks for saving my ass back there.”

“For—” Eddie nearly trips over a vine, catches himself, and steps over it with exaggerated care. “First of all, you saved your own ass, and pulled a real Ozzy move doing it.”

Steve blinks at him as they walk together. “Ozzy?”

“Ozzy Osbourne? Black Sabbath? He bit a bat’s head off onstage?” Seeing absolutely no recognition in that stupidly handsome face, Eddie shakes his head. “You know, doesn’t matter. Second of all, why the fuck are you helping me, man? Dustin and the others I get, but you have an active and very straightforward reason to tell me to fuck off.”

The question is met with a long silence, made worse by the complete lack of wind or normal wildlife sounds in this dark mockery of Hawkins’ woods. Steve scratches at his jaw, working it a little bit like he’s trying to pop his ears or something.

Finally, he says, “Right before the second round of this shit happened, Nancy told me that our relationship and everything about me was complete bullshit while blackout drunk. The next day she left with Jonathan Byers to take on the government, slept with him, came back, and let me tell her it was okay for her to just go be with him already without really knowing what all I was calling okay.”

Eddie, completely unprepared for . . . whatever the hell is happening, doesn’t realize he’s standing stock still until Steve stops too.

“I only found out because Jonathan felt bad and came by to clear the air after a while,” Steve continues. He sounds almost calm, angled to face Eddie but not quite meeting his eyes. “Pretty sure she has no idea that I know that, and she’s never said a word about it to me. And now. . . .” He sighs. “Now shit is happening again, and she’s in charge because she’s good at coming up with plans. And I’m here too, because there’s too much riding on this to walk away just because my ex is involved. This is the team whether we like it or not.”

Which. Okay.

What the fuck.

“We should keep going,” Steve tells him, and starts walking again.

Again, Eddie has to scramble to catch up. “What about Robin?” he asks, still reeling from that mental avalanche. (He’d had no idea that sweet little Nancy Wheeler could be so cold—the same way he’d never expected her to have guns, plural, in her bedroom.)

Steve sighs. “You’re going to find out sooner or later. . . . She’s not my girlfriend, man. We’ve never dated, she’s like my sister. Totally platonic.”

Eddie had been wrong. This is the avalanche, the thing that stops him in his tracks again, even though they have to keep moving. He’d assumed—

“Then why did you give me money?” he blurts out.

But Steve doesn’t stop for him this time, and all he gets in reply is a shrug in the darkness.

#steddie blackmail fic #steddie #steddie fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington can have a little trauma dump. as a treat.#don't worry eddie will call him out for deflecting in approximately... 5.5k words

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peterpparkrr · 2 years

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like real people do (pt 1)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x pianist!reader

Summary: He was a metal guitarist. She played piano. Can I make it any more obvious?

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: Still haven’t recovered. Here’s some non-canon-related fluff.

part 2 part 3 part 4

Eddie Munson is a metalhead drug dealer with a penchant for failing Chemistry.

And the girl who works at the music store is an uptight goodie-two-shoes.

Seriously. Eddie Munson had been Nancy Wheeler’s partner in a biology lab for a month and had thought she was bad.

But you were a whole new ball game. Perfect grades and perfect manners were one thing. But you were also infuriatingly kind.

It would be one thing if you just scoffed when he walked through the door and ignored him until he found the sheet music he was looking for.

But it’s worse than that.

You were annoyingly helpful.

And not in the fake-nice customer service-y way. You didn’t just plaster on a fake smile and nod at customers until you turned your back.

No, you were interested. You asked them curious and thoughtful questions and offered real, useful advice.

Even to people like Eddie.

Every time he goes for new music you help him find it, you ask him questions about his band, and ring him up, all with a cheery smile.

Pretending like you care. Like you’re actually interested in knowing anything about him.

And he knows exactly who you are. Everyone does. It’s a pretty small town, and you’re the ‘Prodigy of Hawkins’. Their pride and joy. You are quite possibly the best musician that Hawkins Indiana had ever produced. Not that that was really saying that much. But you’d been gifted since you could barely reach the pedals of the baby grand in the Hawkin’s community center theater.

You’re supposed to be pretentious, your parents drive you up to Indianapolis on the weekends where you play at the concert hall. Their symphony orchestra has accompanied YOU.

Yet when you’re not performing for packed concert halls, you’re accompanying choir concerts and middle school plays, and teaching little kids how to play the piano, all without an air of self-importance.

He heard you even got a scholarship to Juilliard. New York. He had been fuming with jealousy.

It was always prissy rich girls like you that get out of towns like this, and he’s already been stuck here two years longer than he was supposed to be.

You shouldn’t want anything to do with a guy like him.

And he shouldn’t want you either. I mean, you are definitely not his type.

And yet, he can’t help but feel drawn to you.

Which is probably why he spends all of his money on sheet music and guitar strings.

“Hi, Eddie!” Your voice calls out from behind a row of sheet music when Eddie walks in. You must be organizing stock. Usually, you’re behind the counter with a textbook, or at the display piano playing through a concerto like it’s a nursery rhyme. “Give me one sec and I’ll be right with you.”

Eddie nods as he moves to peruse the new arrivals. As the only music store in Hawkins, you carry just about anything and everything, which is definitely the only reason that Eddie still shops here. Somehow you manage to carry sheet music and tabs for just about every genre under the sun.

“So what can I help you with,” You ask as you finally manage to make your way over to Eddie with a smile.

“Just looking for some new music, you don’t have Master of Puppets yet, do you?” Eddie asks, hardly lifting his eyes from the sheet music he’s flipping through.

“Yes we do,” You say with a grin as you lead him towards the register. “I had a feeling you’d want to get your hands on it,” You add as you pull it out from underneath the register and place it in front of him with a slight flourish as he eagerly grabs the music from the counter and flips through the pages.

“Anything else I can do for you?” You ask as you watch him with mild amusement.

“Uh, nah, I’ll just take this one,” Eddie replies when he finally looks up.

“Sounds good,” You say as you type it into the cash register. “That’ll be 4.99,” You tell him.

He grabs some cash out of his pockets and hands it to you.

“So are you adding this to Corroded Coffin’s setlist?” You ask as you put the money in the register and grab him his change.

Eddie glances up at you in surprise, impressed that you remembered his band name from the last time he was here.

“Maybe, I kinda just want to try it out for myself first, see if I can even manage it,” He tells you.

“Of course you can,” You scoff as you hand him his change. “Eddie, I’ve seen you play at school, you’re amazing,” You tell him as you grab a bag for the music.

“Right,” Eddie replies awkwardly, completely unprepared for the compliment. He had kind of assumed that if the band ever played anything written after 1900 that your ears bled.

“Hey, uh, we play Tuesday nights at The Hideout,” Eddie tells you before he can fully think it through. “By no means are we at your level, I mean we play to 5 drunks on a good night but…”

“I’d love to hear your guys, I’ll try and catch you next week,” You tell him with a nod as you smile back at him.

“Cool,” Eddie says with a nod as you hand him his bag.

“Bye, Eddie,” You reply as he walks out the door.

You stick out like a sore thumb. It wasn’t hard for Eddie to pick you out in the crowd, even if the bar is just as slow as it usually is on a Tuesday night.

Your swingy skirt and blazer-like jacket make you look like you’re going to a recital, not a dive bar.

At least you were in all black.

“You actually came,” Eddie greets you as he saunters up to where you’re sitting after their set.

“Of course,” You reply quickly as you turn and see him making his way over, smiling. “I mean, is it alright that I did? I assumed that it was an open invitation but if it wasn’t I-”

“Yes, yes, sorry, I just thought you’d have had a better invitation since then,” Eddie replies, gently cutting off your ramblings.

“Oh, god no,” You blurt out before you can stop yourself from sounding like even more of a loser. “Classically trained pianists don’t exactly have a lot of social credit,” You tell him with a shrug.

“I don’t ah, have a lot of friends. And the ones I do have are mostly middle-aged musicians who live in Indianapolis,” You admit. “So thank you, for inviting me, you guys are very talented.”

“Hope we didn’t burst your eardrums,” Eddie replies with a smirk as he leans against the table.

“Are you kidding? I love Metallica,” You tell him as you press a hand to your heart.

You’d thought it would be obvious, you love music more than anything, and can’t think of a single genre that you don’t enjoy, that’s why you’re always pushing your manager to order just about any music under the sun.

“I genuinely can’t tell if you’re joking,” Eddie replies, his eyes narrowing slightly as he steps back to study you.

“I’m not joking,” You protest. “What, did you think I danced around in my bedroom to Bach?”

“Honestly….” Eddie trails off teasingly as he tips his head slightly.

Eddie didn’t really know what he imagined you listening to. If he was thinking about you dancing around your bedroom he usually wasn’t putting much thought into the soundtrack.

“Ugh, you’re the worst,” You reply as you shove at his shoulder, shaking your head.

“Nah, I had pegged you for a Beatles girl though,” Eddie confesses.

“Rude,” You reply with a huff as you look at him.

His eyes are already on you. And you can feel him studying you closely. Normally you’d shy away from the attention. People always assumed you enjoyed the spotlight. But honestly, if you didn’t love the music so much you wouldn’t be able to bear it, the constant attention always felt so prying and invasive.

But Eddie’s attention didn’t feel that way. You wanted to challenge it with your own. You’d been watching him for as long as you could remember. You found him deeply curious, with so many complexities that you just wanted to understand, even if you could never quite unpack all of them.

And you felt him studying you now in the same way. Like he understood parts of you that no one else did.

And you liked it.

“Well, I’m sure you have adoring groupies waiting for you somewhere,” You finally say. Cutting through the silence and the tension as you pull your gaze away to scan the bar. Not sure what you’re looking for since the only people here are the regulars sitting at the bar, and Eddie’s bandmates, over at a booth in the corner shouting loudly.

“I really don’t,” Eddie replies quickly with a glance behind him at his band. “Me and the guys usually just get a drink after a show, Jeff always wants to do a play-by-play so that we can ‘improve’,” Eddie tells you with a scoff as he throws up air quotes.

“You wouldn’t want to go get a drink, would you?” Eddie asks after a moment. “And just talk?”

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” You tell him with a small smile.

#stranger things #stranger things imagines #stranger things reader insert #stranger things imagine #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fic #eddie munson fic #stranger things x reader

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marya-blackbone · 1 year

Text

he checked

Steve hates Robin Buckley’s boyfriend. He visits Scoops Ahoy nearly every other day now to flirt with her, and he hates how he bows, kisses her hand and calls her lady Buckley, eyes glinting as though they share some kind of secret.

He doesn’t know why it bothers him so much – they’re dating; they probably share lots of secrets – but there’s just something about Eddie Munson that… irks Steve. Because that has to be what this feeling is – this strange twist in his gut; this flare of jealousy whenever he swings by to say hello.

He thinks he gets it when realises he’s jealous because they’re happy (in a way he and Nancy never were after Barb). Then, he thinks he gets it when he notices how pretty Robin is and finally concedes Dustin might be on to something when he said Robin is cool, the full package.

He doesn’t really get it until much later, after the Russians, but until then, he manages to convince himself that he hates Eddie. He hates how loud he is; hates his taste in clothes, music; hates his stupid, long hair.

But most of all, Steve hates it when Eddie just… looks at Robin. (He doesn’t think to question how he doesn’t care when it’s Robin looking at Eddie.)

~~~

“Not me,” Robin mumbles – also the wrong thing to say because the jaws of pretty much all the girls within hearing range drop and several gasps are heard.

On one particular day, in the weeks leading up to the summer of 1985, someone asks Robin what she’s going to do with her summer. It’s an innocent enough question, but God does it turn Robin’s quiet life upside down.

All she does is tell them she has a summer job at Starcourt – Scoops Ahoy to be precise – but that was the wrong thing to say apparently because it was hot gossip that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington is also going to be slinging ice cream after graduation. Half the cheer squad applied for and were rejected by Scoops when they found out, and any one of them would kill for regular one-on-one time with King Steve.

And then Eddie slings an arm over her shoulders, plants a kiss on her cheek, and tells her he missed her, in a very loud voice.

By lunchtime, the rumours have started.

This is Cardinal Fear Number One for Robin and she. is. freaking. the. fuck. out. Around the fifth time she hears that word, Robin’s panicked gaze meets that of one Eddie Munson.

He’s not hard to spot – he’s standing on his chair, again, and he’s making a spectacle of himself, again. But when he looks at her, he smiles. And it’s not one of the many sneers she’s had directed at herself today, but a real, genuine smile, and before she knows what to make of it, he’s crossing the canteen to where she stands like a deer in the headlights, reeling from the first few moments of what she fears will be the rest of her life as a social pariah. No, worse than that. If she doesn’t figure this shit out, she doesn’t know if she’ll ever feel safe again.

And that’s that.

Almost everyone just assumes what she meant when she said she didn’t want a piece of Steve was that she already had a piece of Eddie. She stops feeling sick, because yeah, ‘freaks in love’ isn’t going to go away any time soon, but it’s a hell of a lot better than the other one; the dangerous one; the truth.

~~~

Later, when Robin and Eddie have a moment to talk, she asks why he helped her – afraid for a moment that he expects something out of it. She learns just how wrong she is when he answers by telling her that Scoops Ahoy wouldn’t hire him because of his tattoos.

He checked.

She laughs then, explodes with it, really, and with Eddie’s laugh overlapping with hers, she thinks it might be okay – easy, even – to pretend she’s in love with Eddie Munson.

And then it all just seems ridiculously ironic that now Robin’s the one with eyes on her that he wishes were on him.

Getting flat out rejected by Robin didn’t hurt as much as Steve thought it would. In fact, he’s weirdly relieved.

In the end, it’s not even the biggest takeaway for Steve from their whole discussion on the floor of the men’s room.

That comes when Robin describes how she wanted Tammy Thompson to look at her. And it’s not even because Robin tells him she’s a lesbian – it’s because there’s something familiar about that feeling of wanting someone to look at you. Wanting them to look at you when they’re looking at someone else.

Maybe if he were more lucid, Steve would realise there never was anything to be jealous of, and maybe if he was more observant from the start, he would have noticed to whom Eddie’s eyes always strayed.

But for now, it’s enough that he knows what that weird feeling really means, even if he has absolutely no idea what to do with it.

(He’ll figure it out.)

A/N: so I’ve seen steve being robin’s beard, but what about eddie? this is a short drabble that i hope inspires someone else with more time than me

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 3 years

Text

Limp Noodle ~ S.H.

A/n: I have never once been good at making choices so I’ll be doing both OOF! This request is dirt old but whatever. I’m actually writing requests now look at me go!

Request: “...prompt 20 or 21 Steve Harrington x clumsy male reader” by anon

#20 (here): “I can’t do this without you”

#21: “Guess who broke their nose! Me. It’s me. I broke my nose.”

Word Count: 2000+

MASTERLIST

“Are you SURE that this is a good idea?” The words came from Y/n as Steve parked the car, waving through the windshield window at Jonatan, Nancy, Robin and a new friend, Bianca. They’d all decided on a triple date and like idiots they’d let Steve, Bianca, and Nancy decide so they were now all headed on a hike. Robin was the least athletic of all of them and hated exercise of any kind. Jonathan was the one in the group who hated being outside in the sun and much preferred being inside cuddled on the could other swaddled in bed. Y/n... well Y/n was the single most clumsy person you’ve ever met.

Now, take whatever image that popped in your head when I said that and then make it ten times worse. Then take THAT mental image and multiply by it by ten AGAIN. Y/n was worse. He was absolutely sure he was going to thrip and fall over the side of some steep hill and fully die. He would be lucky to make it out of this trip without a stick going through his eye. Y/n and the outdoors didn’t mix. They never had. He could barely walk, let alone when it was uphill and outside and humid and hard to breathe and everyone was so beautiful and distracting.

Steve didn’t agree with that analysis.

“This is a great idea actually,” Steve decided with complete confidence. “Don’t worry about it okay? You’ll be fine.”

“Incorrect,” Y/n Aries immediately. “We started dating because I tripped seven times and you caught me every single one. I tripped seven times in three days Steve - and that was just the, what, one hour a day you’re with me? In THREE HOURS I TRIPPED SEVEN TIMES!” He was whisper yelling, getting rather heated. “I’m going to knock my head into a tree and bleed out.”

Steve laughed. He reached over, taking his boyfriend’s hands. “Do you trust me?”

Y/n’s shoulders sagged. “That is a cheap trick, Harrington.”

In response Steve only raised his eyebrows. When Y/n refused to answer, Steve sighed. “Y/n. Do you trust me?”

Closing his eyes a second, Y/n held in a sigh. When he opened them again, he managed a small smile. “Yeah. I trust you.” Steve went to get out of the car and Y/n caught his wrist. “Just promise you’re going to stay with me okay? I can’t do this without you. I’m serious.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Come on Drama King.” They both got out and made their way over to the other four.

“Hey guys!” Nancy greeted warmly. She had calmed a lot since Y/n had first met her. Darkened. But she was still pleasant enough, and Y/n tolerated her for Steve. He didn’t know why they were all friends after Nancy’s brutal ripping up Steve’s heart but... he expected it was that trauma bonding things that Steve and Robin refused to ever talk about with Y/n in the room.

“Hey bestie.” Robin winked at Y/n and he felt himself relax. Around her he always felt more comfortable. She got him on a much deeper level than Steve did. She had actually been the one to set them up after failure after failure of Steve’s attempts on girls who came to the ice cream shop they met at originally. It had gone up in flames recently, but they’d snagged a job at a movie store so they still worked together. Y/n was pretty sure neither of them would have it any other way, even if they sometimes pretended to hate each other.

“Hey loser,” Y/n joked back. Robin shoved him and he laughed, accidentally ramming into Jonathan as his feet almost came out underneath him. “Sorry,” Y/n mumbled.

Robin scoffed in amusement. “I always forget you have two backward feet.” This was something she said often, in reference to the popular statement of ‘two left feet’. One day Robin had proclaimed that Y/n was something worse than two left feet, and then being backward had kicked off as an inside joke.

“I’d you have that problem standing still, how do you think you’re going to do on a hike?” It seemed Bianca was trying to get in on the joking, but it hit a hard cord with Y/n.

He wasn’t in the mood to joke. “What can I say? Great day to die.” He put on the fakest smile ever. “Come on everyone!” Then he began to surge ahead, onto the trail, and the others scrambled to catch up.

It didn’t tale long for Nancy and Bianca to hit the head of the trail. Steve dutifully stayed by Y/n, but he watched the girls head with a sort of forlorness. Because Y/n was so slow and Jonathan and Robin lagged even behind him, the two girls in front were racing up and down the steep sides of the path they were on, jumping over logs and hopping up on stumps to make the path harder. They were laughing hard and having a great time. Y/n knew that Steve desperately wanted to join them.

What kind of a boyfriend would Y/n be to stop him? “Go on,” Y/n sighed, nudging Steve forward encouragingly.

Steve looked at Y/n with an expression that tried far too hard at innocence to succeed. It was so obvious he was full of crap that Y/n was rolling his eyes before the brunette even spoke. “What? What do you mean? I’m having a great time with my boyfriend which was the point of this whole thing. Have I bored you already?”

“No, but I’ve bored you. Go and do parkour with the bad ass chicks up there. Go on.” Steve hesitated, but when Y/n shot him a look, he finally did speed ahead to catch up and join in the unnecessary shenanigans that gave Y/n extreme anxiety just imagining himself doing. He sighed watching Nancy and Steve. He knew that things were WAY over between them, but Y/n found a little jealousy in the way they worked together so fluidly. They were perfect for each other - even as friends. She just kept up with him and challenged him in a way that Y/n never could, and Steve thrived.

Slowing down in his moment of annoyance, Robin and Jonathan caught up to him. “Welcome to the world of those who have to sit back and wonder why they’re not still dating,” Jonathan sighed. His voice was as laced with bitterness as Y/n’s thoughts were.

“They’re so complimentary,” Y/n complained.

“You could argue that you guys are the same,” Robin pointed out. “You both hate doing anything outside or away from home. You both love reading and photography. I mean Y/n’s incredible view of the world allows him to be a great writer, but it also connects you two. Writing and photography aren’t far from each other and you prod that every day. Nancy can’t slow down enough to appreciate things like Jonathan does, and we all know Steve is no reader.” She chuckled. “And we’ll never know how awkward and snappy got buff and pretty.”

Jonathan and Y/n smiled at that. “Imagine another world where Nancy and Steve stayed together. Then maybe you and me would have-“ suddenly he lost his words as he tripped, and Jonathan reached out to catch him. The two boys busted up laughing. “That’s the second I have to say both sorry and thank you for your reflexes Mr. Byers.”

“Ah anytime. That’s what friends do. Share interests and talk about alternative world where they’re dating and catch each other when they almost die.”

That made Y/n laugh harder.

Suddenly there was a very unpleasant thump and a scream. The three in the back snapped their attention to the three ahead and saw Nancy and Bianca freeze and look back at Steve, who had landed on the ground. His hands had risen to cover his face, and he slowly turned on his side, curling in on himself. It seemed like he’d misstepped at some point and tripped and fallen.

Perhaps Y/n shouldn’t have been the one they worried about on this trip...

When they finally got Steve to the hospital, it was a mess. There had been blood everywhere, and Y/n’s weirdly good driving had saved the day in a pinch once again. They’d gotten there quickly and in one piece without getting pulled over.

Only an hour later they were given news. Steve came out with the skin around his nose already bruised and puffy. “Guess Who broke their nose,” he mocked in a song songey voice.

“Me?” Y/n joked.

“Me!” Steve agreed, pointing at himself. “It’s me. I broke my nose.” He slung an arm over Y/n’s shoulders and the other four covered their mouths to hide laughs. People wouldn’t be forgiving in public if it got out that the two men were dating, so they were trying to be lowkey.

The Doctor came over behind Steve. “He’ll be fine. I’ve given him direction son how to ice it and even given him some pain killers to help with the next few hours. But it is just a broken nose, so nothing too severe.”

“Thanks,” Y/n told the Doctor. They left then, everyone heading home. Y/n designated himself in charge of caring for Steve, and called his parents to let them know that Steve ‘got tired’ after the hike and totally knocked out. They didn’t mind, liking that Steve was actually spending time with other kids again, so it went without too much problem.

As Y/n was tucking Steve into bed, Steve caught his hand to still him. “I love you.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. They hadn’t said that yet but... well, if hypotheticals with Jonathan had taught anything today, it was that Y/n was glad he was in this version of things, even if it was a little more complicated this way. So he meant it when he replied, “I love you too Stevie.”

Steve glared. “Not Jonathan?”

“Jon-“ Y/n’s deep confusion cleared as he realized what had been happening right when Steve had tripped. Jonathan and Y/n had been close. Laughing. Talking. Touching. “Oh my god Harrington did you break your nose because you were being a jealous idiot?”

“Maybe,” Steve grumbled, looking away.

Y/n laughed, gently tugging on his chin so their eyes met again. “Please sweetheart, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Me and my two backward feet are going to plague you for the rest of our lives.”

Steve’s eyes got very soft. “Do you really mean that?”

Getting sincere, Y/n leaned down and kissed Steve’s forehead. “Stephen Harrington, I’ve never meant anything more. I know we can’t get married or anything, or even date publicly, but... I don’t care. And maybe that’s some really forward thinking and we haven’t been dating that long, but I fell... a LOT of times in my life. It only made sense that the first time someone ever caught me, it was you. And it made me realize that I was gifted with my two backward feet so that one day I’d fall for you.”

Steve groaned. “That was painfully cheesy.”

“Okay, okay,” Y/n dismissed, rolling his eyes. The sweet moment was completely ruined.

“No seriously I would break my nose again before hearing that-“

Y/n reached over, turning the light off before climbing into bed with Steve. “Shut up Harrington, or I WILL break your nose again.”

Steve laughed before pulling Y/n close so they could fall asleep curled up with each other. “My cheesy, dumb, clumsy boy,” Steve mused quietly.

That made Y/n scoff. “If either of ya is the dumb in this relationship it’s YOU, Harrington.”

“Shut up,” Steve whispered. It was quiet a while before he finally followed up with, “I’d like that future with you too.”

To hide his smile, Y/n mumbled, “Good night Stevie.”

After a second, Steve replied, “Good night, Y/n.” And for now, that was the end of it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x male reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #bisexual steve harrington #bi steve harrington

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cupidsintern · 3 years

Text

shot thru the heart, pt. 1

</3

Steve’s always been a romantic, he’s always liked like, rom coms and love songs and picking out those stupid little teddy bears at the drugstore. He likes having someone to tell he dreamt about them, likes the idea that love is the end-all-be-all.

But he hates Valentine’s Day. And maybe it’s just this year, you know? Too much, too soon to walk through the doors of Hawkins High and realize that, oh yeah, next Friday is Valentine’s day, because pink and red streamers hang from the ceiling, and shitty cut-out hearts with too much glitter glue pepper the walls. But it can’t be too soon. Cause it's been, what- three months? One, two, yeah. Three months.

The thought makes him feel heavy all over. Reminds him how all his heart had to be picked up and crammed back into his chest like so many notes shoved into Nancy’s locker- “you look really pretty today” and “wanna get lunch?” and “hope you’re doing okay” and Steve should stop reminiscing. It just makes him sad when he turns a corner and sees that student government set up the Valentine Grams table right in front of the main office. Right fucking there. So if Steve wants to get to the other end of the school he had to walk right past the table of- mostly underclassmen girls, but some very pressed looking guys trying to live up to expectations- paying a whopping two bucks just to get a rose and yet another shitty cut out heart delivered to their certain someone.

Steve has two dollars in his wallet- and all the valentines are anonymous. Unless you write your name of course. But Steve’s not going to send one. Because he’s over Nancy, and she has a boyfriend and because… there’s no one else.

Steve thinks he must have a little storm cloud floating over his head the whole way to class, rumbling with every glittery heart he sees. He hates the day, and the two weeks leading up to it, how tired the whole thing makes him, how tired he is all the time now, how his grades just keep getting worse, which he didnt fucking know was possible-

But lately they've actually been a little better.

Okay maybe that's a plus- Steve’s grades have been better- but no, wait, no it's not, because the only reason his grades have been on the up is he’s been copying homework from Billy Hargrove.

Who Steve should stop last-naming because they've been kind of. Fine lately. Acquaintances. Friends, maybe. Not that Steve has any friends to speak of, but Billy lets Steve copy his homework- not even lets, he asks every time “you want the answers?” all low, leaning forward from his seat right behind Steve so the teacher doesn't hear. Steve remembers the first time Billy offered, he turned around in his desk so fast to go “Yes, for real?” and Billy handed his over- already complete like they hadn't gotten the handout ten minutes ago. And it was helpful, really it was, but… Steve just hated it. He couldn't think of any other way to describe the feeling- made his guts twist. Like jealousy. Billy finished his homework in class in ten fucking minutes. Billy didn't give a shit about the lesson and still aced every test. Billy apologized in a way that made it hard not to forgive him, harder when he was offering up freebie grade boosts. Charming. Steve hated it. Felt like pity, maybe. Feels like jealousy.

And Steve hated Billy’s handwriting. It was... perfect. Like a fucking machine did it, evenly spaced, took up the line like it was supposed to, consistent, neat. Legible. Artwork compared to Steve’s own chicken scratch- and today was just the same. Billy flicked Steve's shoulder with a “your cut, pretty boy,” which Steve wanted to grace with an equally charming answer, but only came up with “Thanks.” And there was the perfect handwriting.

W Hargrove

02/03/85

2nd Period

Steve should have started copying right away, cram as much as possible on to his own stupid page before the bell rang. But he stared at the evenness of the W, the slant of the slashes- like they were perfectly aligned. Bothered him more than usual, that Billy had to be better at everything, even penning words, symbols. Even when he was being nice about it. Really, Steve probably had the upper hand. Billy was being nice to him, trying to make it up to him, owing him a debt. And still, Steve was so… jealous.

He runs out of time before the bell rings, whispers “fuck me” under his breath, turns back to hand Billy his homework, but is met with

“Hang onto it.” Billy always leans so far back in his desk, slouches down into it so sometimes Steve can feel Billy’s boots kick into the back legs of his desk- one time they hit his own nikes. Left a scuff on the heels, startled him awake- jealousy.

Steve doesn’t respond right away, so Billy speaks again, probably thinks Steve’s a fucking idiot- “Finish up. Just give it back before class tomorrow, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jealousy- “Sure thing. Thank you.”

“Eh,” Billy’s already getting up. “Don’t mention it.”

Steve keeps the homework.

</3

pt 2 here!

#this is OLD so hopefully i actually finish it lol #late valentine i guess #my fic #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove #billy x steve #steve x billy #harringrove fic #harringrove fanfic

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smokeonshadows · 3 years

Text

We need to talk about the Bobbseys

Strap in, kids. This is going to be...a lot.

To put it bluntly, the way the Bobbseys were handled was messy, unnecessary, and probably the worst thing about an otherwise great season.

It's really disappointing because the Nancy Drew writers have already proven themselves to be not only good writers, but also socially conscious writers. They actively and publicly aim to be inclusive in their storytelling, so I think it's fair to hold them to that standard.

There was a lot of potential in the Bobbseys–they're a morally ambiguous brother-sister team of codependent twins from a rough/tragic past who sometimes lie, cheat, and steal in order to make ends meet. This is interesting, this is full of possibilities as to how they could fit in with the Drew Crew, and, most of all, this was a great opportunity to have complex representation of the south asian community that subverts popular stereotypes (model minority, traditional upbringing, perpetual foreigner, etc.). Amanda and Gil would've been great characters in their own rights...but instead they were used as nothing more than cannon fodder for an unnecessary, half-baked love square with low key racist undertones.

Problematic elements

I've already talked about the racist undertones in previous posts, but in a nutshell, Gil is portrayed as being controlling/aggressive/domineering (particularly towards Nancy and Amanda) and it's a stereotype that south asian men (and I'd say black and brown men in general) are misogynistic, aggressive, and otherwise abusive towards women. This portrayal is made even worse because he's meant to be a foil for Ace, a soft/gentle/sensitive/emotionally stable white guy who Nancy is obviously meant to be with. And for Amanda, she's also portrayed in line with the stereotype of asian women being very submissive (particularly to their male counterparts). I don't think any of this was intentional, but it's just not a good look.

This problem could've at least been somewhat alleviated if Gil and Amanda had been written as fully fleshed out characters who were going on their own journeys and were consequential to the story, but that didn't happen.

Stereotypes aside, another problematic aspect of the Bobbseys is that they both fall into the unfortunately common trope of being the character of color that the white character has a superficial relationship with and leads white character to realizing that they should actually be with this other white character who's been there all along.

Even when they have roles in the episode apart from being superficial love interests, oftentimes they don't do much aside from being useful for getting the Crew from point A to point B of a mystery.

Underdeveloped relationships

Was I the only one who found the resolution of the Nancy x Gil relationship in the season finale to be a bit abrupt?

While I appreciate that they showed how seemingly small transgressions within relationships can actually be red flags and that a situation doesn't need to escalate to full-on physical abuse in order to count as domestic violence, I found that the moment when Nancy has this realization and then breaks up with Gil lacked the emotional weight befitting that situation. I think this was the case because Nancy and Gil barely had a relationship. There was attraction and sexual tension, they hooked up a few times, but it was never shown to be a real relationship. It's not just that we didn't often see them together, but with or without him, Nancy didn't think much about Gil or what he thought of her and, more importantly wrt the breakup, we aren't shown all the ways that his treatment of her affected her sense of self or the way she operated. Nancy's relationship with Gil was inconsequential, so the stakes were low.

And yes, casual hookup situations can also turn abusive, but from a narrative standpoint, the way this particular situation was portrayed, it was given both more and less weight than it should've been given. It felt like the writers wanted the breakup to be big and impactful but they not only didn't work for that payoff, they also wanted to resolve it quickly so they could move onto more important plot points (the breakup was at the beginning episode and Nancy never mentions it or even hints at any emotional fallout from it ever again).

(Amanda was done dirty)

Actually, if anything, the big dramatic breakup should've been between Amanda and Gil. Even with her severely limited screentime, almost every time we do see Amanda, we are reminded of how close she is with Gil, how badly he treats her, how much she values his opinion, and how smothered she feels by him. And it sucks that we never actually get to see Amanda make the realization, stand up for herself, and confront Gil. All we see is Ace encouraging her to break away and then cut to her living her best life post-sibling breakup.

In the end, it's as if Amanda's pain and suffering was made to be less about her and more about Nancy/being evidence that Gil is not good for Nancy. Again, not a good look.

And Amanda and Ace's relationship is also underdeveloped compared to the impact that the writers seem to want it to have. Like, I don't understand why Ace would give her a pseudo-ultimatum ("I'll prioritize you if you prioritize me") at this stage of their relationship. Yes, they do seem to be more of a relationship than Nancy x Gil, but it always felt like they were very much in the budding romance stage. While he does talk about her when they're apart, we still rarely saw them interact with each other outside of the context of Ace needing to use Amanda's connection at the hotel or to her father or brother in order to help solve the mystery. And we don't learn more about or see a different side either character through their relationship with each other.

Poorly executed, unnecessary love triangles

The whole point of having a love triangle is to raise the emotional stakes.

It's always been my belief that if you're going to have a love triangle, you need to commit to it. That means making both legs of the triangle equally viable, developing both romantic options and both relationships equally.

As noted in the sections above, this was not the case with either love triangle, which makes the whole thing feel cheap and unsatisfying. Like I said in a previous post, I think it would've been more powerful if Nancy had two really great options, but in the end chose Ace because that’s what her heart really wants no matter how great the other guy is.

Anyone with a healthy understanding of love and relationships would choose Ace over Gil. It's no contest, no real choice, so it adds nothing to the conversation, it says nothing about Nancy or her feelings for Ace. It's inconsequential, the emotional stakes are practically nonexistent.

Literally, I feel like if you took the Bobbsey love triangles out of this season, Ace and Nancy would still end up in pretty much the same place wrt their feelings for each other. I mean, yes, the whole jealousy/green eyed epiphany thing did play a role, but the relationships with the Bobbseys featured so little and were so underdeveloped that it would be more or less the same as one of them flirting with a background character every once in a while.

And Nace still didn't end up together after all that! It's hinted that for some reason, Ace will be stringing Amanda along next season while he pines for Nancy. Which is exhausting.

This is really what we sacrificed two perfectly interesting characters of color for. I'm upset.

#nancy drew cw #gil bobbsey #amanda bobbsey

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irregularincidents · 3 years

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When it comes to naming infamous people connected with the White House, Joan Quigley doesn’t really rank as high as some, but if her account of events is accurate (and according to former Chief of Staff to Ronald Reagan, Donald Degan, it is), she definitely had a much larger impact on a presidency than you’d expect for someone in her role. Her role?

She was the Reagans’ astrologer.

As Degan put it in his 1988 book, For the Record: “Virtually every major move and decision the Reagans made during my time as White House Chief of Staff was cleared in advance with a woman in San Francisco [Quigley] who drew up horoscopes to make certain that the planets were in a favorable alignment for the enterprise.”

Initially working with the Reagans in the 1970s, Nancy cut ties with her when the couple concentrated on getting into the White House, but following the 1981 attempted assassination of Ronald Reagan by John Hinckley, Quigley inserted herself into Ronald and Nancy’s business by implying that if she had been working with the couple on their horoscopes, she could have warned them it was going to happen.

Y’know, with star charts and things.

Later in her memoir, My Turn, Nancy explained her decision to give Quigley enormous control over decisions made in the White House (from dictating when Air Force One can land to the War on Drugs to the Iran-Contra Scandal) thusly: "Very few people can understand what it's like to have your husband shot at and almost die, and then have him exposed all the time to enormous crowds, tens of thousands of people, any one of whom might be a lunatic with a gun.... I was doing everything I could think of to protect my husband and keep him alive."

And as Quigley herself put it in her own book, What Does Joan Say: “Not since the days of the Roman emperors, and never in the history of the United States presidency, has an astrologer played such a significant role in the nation's affairs of State."

According to the podcast, Behind the Bastards, Quigley herself was the person who suggested that Nancy Reagan use the War on Drugs as the thing to make her more popular in the eyes of the public (this being due to the Reagans’ bizarre negative obsession with the Kennedys*, with Nancy in particular being kind of fixated on being seen by the American public in the same positive light as Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis).

Quigley suggested that the best means to boost her popularity would be to choose a particular cause to champion and stick with it, with an anti-drug message being one of the options she suggested to Nancy. This was the one the First Lady ultimately adopted, leading to DARE, raised penalties for drug offences, and a massively inflated American prison population.

Quigley was eventually ousted from the White House following the publication of Degan’s book (the pair frequently fought when he worked with the presidency, over the unreasonable amount of control she had over policy) in 1988, and while Nancy and Ronald Reagan were both terrible, TERRIBLE people, the possiblity that they had someone effectively feeding them policies seemingly at random which went on to hurt thousands of people wasn’t great either (even if she was potentially scamming them).

Alternatively, Quigley control over policy may have been overstated somewhat (although her dictating when the presidental planes could land and the timing of a visit to a German graveyard both happened)... But really, what’s worse: Someone who is feeding suggestions to bad, powerful people which effect the lives of thousands of people in a harmful way, OR a scammer who TAKES CREDIT for policies which harmed thousands of people as a means of inflating their own impact on history.

____

* The Reagans hatred of the Kennedys boiled down to a combination of jealousy and Ronald’s irrational belief that JFK was the reason his acting career had tanked (even though Ron’s acting career had dried up long before Kennedy became president). In the Dollop’s episode(s) on Reagan, they recount how the day JFK was assassinated Ron and Nancy were holding a dinner party, only for it to morph into their weird celebration of Kennedy getting shot when some of the guests tried to cancel.

#irregular incidents #american history #history

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plus-size-reader · 4 years

Text

Poor Baby pt.2

Billy Hargrove x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1356 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Billy gets jealous...

Part 2 to Poor Baby

———————————————————————————————————

You’d think that after your little charade at the pool, you and Billy would have given up on being jealous.

It didn’t get you anywhere and everyone in Hawkins was now well aware of who Billy belonged to.

There simply was no reason for it.

The two of you were mature adults who could handle their issues in a civilized fashion-

“You’re fucking Harrington, aren’t you?!”

-Scratch that...one of you was a mature adult.

Steve had just offered to help you with an english paper. Your grade was plummeting in that class, so you agreed. It was nothing more than that, but you should have known that Billy wouldn’t believe that.

If he thought you were jealous, he was a million times worse. If you even looked at another guy, the accusations went flying.

In fact, most of your arguments were about other people.

You knew that Billy loved you, you knew that he only got jealous because he was insecure and afraid to lose you. You knew that in your mature adult brain but right now, it didn’t matter. How dare he accuse you of something like that?

“Fuck you Hargrove, I just needed help in French’s class” you bit back. It was rare for Billy to point his anger toward you but you weren’t going to let it stand, no matter what.

You were his girlfriend, not some freshman he could bully into washing his car.

“Why Harrington then? Anybody could help you” he grumbled, lowering his volume ever so slightly, though not by much. The final bell had just rung, sending students toward the parking lot from every direction.

...That included you and Billy.

Someone probably should have stopped you, but they all knew better. Even the staff didn’t want to get between one of your lovers quarrels. It simply wasn’t worth it for them to intervene.

You two would be back to sucking face in the hallways before they knew it anyway.

It was just the way that you two worked. The ups were so up that you felt like you were flying high about the world but the downs were more down each and every time you fought.

Luckily, you had been together long enough that it was never all that bad in comparison. Eventually you would just decide that it was stupid and go back to him or he’d show up at your house after a few too many and order you back to his side.

Not that you were even considering that right now.

“Yeah? Are you gonna help me with an English paper Hargrove?” you spit, knowing well enough that he was failing too. Clearly, not just anybody could help you after all.

If you were fighting with anyone else, he would have backed down by now because that was kind of a low blow but Billy didn’t even blink. In fact, when you looked up at him, you found that he was actually smiling at you.

This sick fuck thought that he was funny.

“I meant a girl, princess. Why don’t you get Nancy Wheeler to help you?” he suggested, hitting a new level of petty that you hadn’t been expecting, though you were more than prepared to match it.

“Actually,” you laughed, “I was planning on asking Mr.Wheeler if she was free, or do you two already have plans?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his childish demeanor.

Words never bothered Billy, not really.

He looked at verbal fights with you as a twisted sort of foreplay that he got to control-but you weren’t backing down like you normally would.

After a while of going back and forth, you usually would hit a point where you’d give up trying to get through to him. You’d just sit through the whole car ride staring out the window in silence but you two had long passed that marker.

You were in it this time.

Billy had accused you of the one thing you weren’t just going to brush to the side.

You had never been anything but loyal when it came to him and the fact that he would even have the balls to suggest something other than that was absolutely ridiculous.

It hurt, but you weren’t going to let him know that. Instead, you were going to put up a fight, because you were tired of having to grit your teeth and bare it.

“Nah, I was hoping I’d be with you later but I guess you’ll be busy” he countered, losing interest at this point. If there was one thing you knew about Billy more than anything else, it was that he was a sore loser.

You weren’t letting him win, so he didn’t want to play anymore.

Again, you rolled your eyes, making your way over to the passenger side of the Chevrolet Camaro. The argument you were having had, seemingly, met its natural end.

Billy was pouting, and you were far too tired from a long school day to keep this up anymore. Maybe just burying the hurt he’d caused was the best way to deal with his accusation.

After all, you two were constantly going back and forth, saying hurtful things and never taking them back. It was a vicious cycle and you just couldn’t keep it up all the time.

...And the worst part was that you were both too stubborn to admit that you weren’t hard as nails all the time.

“Look, I know you aren’t fucking him” Billy started, breaking the stagnant silence between you too as best he could.

If there was one thing that Billy hated more than losing, it was being ignored. You knew it but this time, you weren’t ignoring him out of spite as a punishment for his actions. You literally didn’t have it in you to talk to him right now.

“He wants you though, y’know...But I guess that isn’t your fault” he kept going, rambling in that way that he usually did when he got too in his head. This was the part of your relationship that no one would ever believe.

That Billy was so vulnerable.

Usually, you would stop him in his tracks with a kiss at this point but you just kept facing forward, watching the pavement disappear beneath the hood of the car as Billy sped down the road.

An apology out of Billy was rare, but you had a feeling that he was building up to one right now and you sure as hell weren’t going to interrupt him.

“Are you really not gonna talk to me?” he grumbled, proving you wrong. Even when he knew that he really fucked up, an apology was too much to ask from Billy.

But he had a point.

Were you going to talk to him? Did he deserve a whole conversation after everything he’d already said? Sure, you weren’t innocent by any means but he’d started it.

Him and his stupid jealousy.

“You’re a jealous fuck,” you huffed, letting out a long sigh before continuing. “But I get it” there was a softness to your voice, one that hadn’t been there before that sparked something in Billy.

Almost immediately his hand fell on your own, where it was resting on your left thigh. This entire thing had taken half-an-hour tops but Billy felt like he had been away from you for far too long.

He missed you.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you” he allowed, taking his eyes off the road again to look at you. That moment of clarity, and conscience always hit him after he’d said something he couldn’t take back.

Luckily, you weren’t on any kind of high horse and you weren’t about to pretend that you were innocent in all this.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you” you hummed in turn, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder as he drove. It wasn’t a real apology technically, but it was real for you and Billy and that was enough.

It had always been enough.

“Besides, your hair is way better than Harrington's anyway” you teased, snuggling into his jean-clad shoulder.

“Damn straight”

#Billy Hargrove #billy hargrove x plus size reader #billy hargrove x ps reader #stranger things #stranger things 3 #stranger things season 3 #stranger things x reader #stranger things x plus size reader #stranger things x ps reader #st #st x reader #st x plus size reader #st x ps reader

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curiositydooropened · 3 years

Text

Christmas at the Wheeler’s, like most things at the Wheeler’s, looked like Max had stepped onto the set of one of those old fashioned, sappy holiday musicals her mom sobbed to every year. Everything was lit up, technicolor, glossed over with a rosy glow. The fireplace was lit and stoked. Five perfect, store-bought stockings hung among the boughs of holly, just under an array of Sears-booth photographs. A large tree was adorned to the tip top with tinsel and real glass ornaments. All the presents beneath glistened under gold lamé bows.

Max almost didn’t want to unwrap hers. She wanted to pull the Scotch tape as carefully as she could to keep the paper prestine. Her own presents, comic books she’d paid for with scrounged arcade change, were haphazardly taped brown parcels, carefully tied with string. Their Christmas budget was low, Mom said, because of funeral costs. They were still recovering.

Mike had gotten her a really nice sweater, which was thoughtful, too thoughtful. And Lucas got pissed until Mike explained that El had picked it out, and she’d be wearing a matching one in New Mexico. Lucas got Max a framed photo of himself, the idiot.

After presents, they enjoyed some punch and took turns on the Atari until the front door opened with a gust of cool air, and two more guests tumbled in, stomping the snow from their boots onto the entry rug.

“Mike!?” Nancy called through the house, but she needn’t look far to see the motley crew huddled in their Christmas sweaters in front of the television. Dustin and Mike were jamming their joysticks. Lucas sat on the couch beside Max, making her too warm and itchy with his arm wrapped over her shoulder.

“What!?” Mike yelled back, not seeing his sister’s entrance.

“I’m home.” Nancy was breathless, from the cold or something else, Max wasn’t sure, but the older girl’s cheeks and nose were pinched pink, and she had the start of icicles in her hair. She was out there a while. “Hi, Max,” she smiled, holding up a small hand to wave.

Max nodded a hello.

“You guys get enough to eat? Where’s Holly?” She looked around the small room for her littlest sister.

The familiar sound of a knock out called from the television, and Dustin tossed his joystick in a fit of slander and rage. Mike raised two fists in the air, triumphant, before focusing in on the annoyed teen in the room. “Shit, what?” He blinked.

“Seriously, Mike!?” Nancy huffed in retreat. They heard her footsteps hurdle up the staircase. “Holly!?!”

Max felt a twinge of panic, wondered if the rest of them prickled at the idea of a missing child. Maybe it affected them worse than her, she never knew. She hadn’t recalled seeing Holly all evening. Somewhere between the cookies and punch, maybe? When the kitchen bustled with bodies and Mrs. Wheeler smacked lips to Mike’s obstinant cheek as she and Mr. Wheeler swept off to their evening’s party.

Reluctantly, Mike stretched his long limbs from his cross-legged position on the floor and followed his older sister to investigate upstairs. Lucas, seeing an opening, found his spot beside Dustin on the living room floor.

Suddenly feeling antsy and alone, Max relieved herself and headed toward the kitchen, mumbling something about punch. Really, she wanted a better vantage of the staircase and the front door, in case something were to go awry. In the kitchen, she knew she could arm herself. She passed the entry way, a stacked flurry of puffer jackets, and her socks dampened beneath the run-off of wet snow boots. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, but continued to pad her path, peeking up the staircase for any indication of the little girl’s safety.

Max’d craned her neck so far to see up the stairs that by the time she wheeled her focus to the kitchen, she’d nearly run smack into the side of Steve Harrington, who now stood draped against the Wheeler’s island, mouth full and second Christmas cookie in hand. “Whey, Mah-,” he greeted, crumbs coating a bright blue puffer vest. He waved.

Max clutched at her chest and shook her head, moving to fill a plastic cup with punch. “Hi, Steve. What’re you doing here?” She half-paid attention to her actions, taking the new vantage point to look toward the blue staircase.

“I’m here to take Dustin home.” Steve gestured in Dustin’s vague direction with the cookie in his hand. “Is your mom coming?”

Where were the Wheelers? The hallway upstairs remained dimly lit. It seemed like Mrs. Wheeler had changed the wallpaper again, something more with-the-times. At least the lighting remained stable, no blinking, no changes. The air in the kitchen felt warm, too hot, except Max’s hand. Why would her hand be cold?

Her eyes flicked focus to her freezing hand to watch bright red punch spill over the full cup and back into the punch bowl. “Shit!” She dropped the ladle and carefully dumped punch out of her cup, standing on tiptoe to avoid spillage onto her hand-knit Christmas sweater.

“Pour much?” Steve snorted.

“Shove it, asshole,” Max sneered, setting her cup down to find one of Mrs. Wheeler’s hand towels to dry the liquid.

Steve had found it already, in anticipation for the spill, and he handed it over with a grin, using his dry, but freezing, fingers to roll up Max’s sleeve. His hands were bright red, and cold, as though he’d been outside for hours. With warmth filling her cheeks, Max mumbled a thanks and avoided glancing back up at him while she dried off. Her fingers remained sticky at the joints.

“God, Mike, you’re such a freak,” Nancy hissed at the top of the stairs. Her not-so-little brother slunk behind her, all limbs and shrugged shoulders.

“Shut up,” a small smirk met his thin lips, but he halted at the landing, bushy eyebrows furrowed into the signature Mike Wheeler grimace. “What the hell is he doing here?”

Steve rolled his eyes and reached for a third sugar cookie. He leaned once more against the counters to behead Santa before saying, “shut up, dickhead.”

Mike just rolled his eyes and followed Nancy to the kitchen to grab a handful of salted nuts.

“Was Holly okay?” Max asked softly, slipping her upper lip over the rim of her cup to slurp the excess punch from the top. It was sweet, but the fizz had flattened from hours laying stagnant in a warm house.

“Oh yeah, she’d crashed while playing Barbies.” Nancy smiled softly, cornering a star between dainty eye teeth. “God, those were the days, weren’t they?”

Max hummed a smile, chest loosening in relief. She’d never had Barbies growing up, well, one or two, because Mom wanted her to, but she was always more into skinning her knees and jamming buttons at the arcade.

A cry of victory shook the house from the family room, and Mike quickly hurried off to congratulate the winner, or take his turn, and Max took a deep breath before deciding if she wanted to follow. She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall. It was getting late, and if she wanted to make it home by curfew, she should probably get going soon. At least, if Neil was sober and awake, which was more and more unlikely nowadays.

“Steve,” Nancy gasped, covering a chuckle with the back of her hand. “You’ve got… tree…” She laughed and reached to pull an assortment of twigs from Steve Harrington’s famous brown locks. His dark eyes screwed upward to watch the action, and upon noticing the culprit, he quickly checked his hair with his hands. His immediate panic sent Nancy into a fit of giggles.

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes, but Max noticed the fondest of smiles breech the corners of his pink lips. He watched Nancy laugh before lifting a hand to her curls. “Shit, you do too.” He snorted and pulled some juniper from her hair as well.

The room felt very tight, like all of the air had been sucked from it. The last laugh fell from Nancy’s lips, and Max held her breath simultaneously, too embarrassed to make a noise. She watched Steve’s hand pick at twigs and berries, and the items pebbled on the linoleum at their socked feet.

His hands were big, overtaking Nancy’s petit face and frame, as they ghosted her cheek and neck and arm, and finally fell to his sides. Max could feel herself trembling, curiosity fluttering somewhere in her stomach, wondering if Steve’s hand would feel the same as Lucas’s in hers, or if it was tougher, more experienced. She wondered how she’d feel tucked under one of his arms on the couch, the way she had been with Lucas. She wondered if she’d feel stuffy and hot, or comfortable, safe.

“Max,” Steve’s voice snapped her out of it, and she felt her face flood with heat. She darted her eyes around the room, trying to look anywhere but him until she realized he’d address her.

“Huh?” She cleared her throat. “What?”

“Is your mom coming to get you?”

It took her a few moments to realize what he was asking, while her brain switched gears. She shook her head, taking another sip of punch. “Mmm, no. She’s at the party too. I’m going to skate home.”

“Uh, no you’re not.” Steve shook his head.

“What?”

“It’s a friggin’ blizzard outside, shit brains. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I’ll be fine, asshole,” Max rolled her eyes, but her confidence waned as she glanced toward the blackness of the kitchen window. The corners of it were illuminated with a fresh dusting of snow. She chewed the inside of her cheek.

“Whatever. When’s your curfew?” Steve asked.

Max stared back at the clock on the wall. “Half hour?”

Steve ran a hand through his mane. “Shit. Fine. Go grab Dustin, let’s go.”

With a huff of obstinance, Max tipped the rest of her punch into the sink and tossed her cup into the quickly-filling garbage can. She tried not to notice Nancy hadn’t moved from her close proximity to Steve. She tried not to notice the looks the older two were giving each other as she left the room. She tried not to notice the pang of jealousy she felt as she moved out of eye sight.

She thought of turning back, of peeking through the slats in the banister and catching a secret moment, but she thought better of it and made a mental note to tell El tomorrow. She gathered her bag of presents and peeled Dustin’s gaze from the television long enough to help him do the same. Her mind lingered on the teens in the kitchen, wondering if love got easier or harder the older she got.

Lucas kept his untrained eyes on the television, jamming buttons while his girlfriend and best friend made for the entry way to begrudgingly pull damp snowshoes on over wool socks. Max perched herself on the bottom step and yawned through the first boot. She glanced sideways to see the older teens entering from the kitchen. Steve pulled his jacket from the ground, wet spots still fresh and dark green against the emerald.

“You shit heads ready?” He grinned, too wide, too happy. So happy he winked at Max, who shot him furrowed eyebrows as a blushed response.

“What’s your deal?” Dustin scoffed, never one to let an uncharacteristically enthused expression go unnoticed.

“Nothing, shut up. Put your coat on.” Steve sighed, slamming down the front bill of Dustin’s cap.

Dustin huffed a response and struggled for his jacket.

Steve reached to the ground to find Max’s. The puff split down one side and was half hazardly duck taped together like her skateboard, and the entire thing looked ridiculous against the pristine image of Steve Harrington. He held it out for her to slip her arms into, and she did so, one after the other, her back up against his tall, strong front, their jackets puffed between them.

His fingers, now warm, brushed her neck upon her coat’s release, and she shuddered at the touch, immediately stepping out of his range. She grappled for her bag, and the skateboard propped against the wall and grumbled for them all to leave already.

“Bye, Mike! Thanks for Christmas! Bye, Nancy!” Dustin screeched throughout the house.

Nancy swatted at him, not unkindly. “Shhh, Holly’s sleeping.”

“Sorry,” Dustin grinned. “Merry Christmas, Nancy.”

“Merry Christmas, Dustin. Merry Christmas, Max.”

Max smiled and nodded. She lingered behind Dustin for a moment, waiting to hear the scramble of feet from the family room, but found no such luck. She sighed. Maybe being single for the holidays was just the icing on the cake from the shit year she’d had since July. Weird emotions struck her, tickled at her throat, and she shouldered past Dustin and into the cold.

Steve was right. A thick layer of white brightened the air, frosted her cheeks, tickled at her nose hairs. She blinked into the blanket, trying to decide the best coarse of action to keep her jeans dry. The lights from the garage glowed warm against the icy driveway. Already, Steve’s car was cast in a thin layer, windshield wiping in vain. The engine rolled from the cold.

His headlights exposed an odd patch of snow behind of the bushes at the front of the yard, packed like something had laid and almost attempted snow angels, though perhaps something had barreled through to destroy them. Amid the snow were twigs and berries.

Dustin forged ahead in a flurry of polyester, eager to get out of the snow and into the warmth of Steve’s car. With a groan, Max followed in his wake, hiking her skateboard up her hip to keep it dry. Dustin shouted shot gun, and the two of them collapsed into respective seats, breathless from the cold, stamping their boots onto the sideboard. Before Max closed her door, she noticed Nancy and Steve lingering in the doorway to the Wheeler’s home. Nancy’s fingers were wrapped around the lapel of his jacket. She fell back on flat feet from her tiptoes.

Max slammed the car door and fresh snow fell to the driveway outside. The window cleared, and they watched Steve sprint back to his car, entering the fray in gasps and laughter.

“What was that about?” Dustin asked.

“What?” Steve sighed. He swung an arm back to Max in the backseat to retrieve the scraper from beside her. “Be right back.”

“Don’t think you can avoid the subject, Steve!” Dustin yelled, but the car door was slammed in his face. He grumbled and turned back to Max. The smile on his impish features was too solemn, something Max had grown used to from all of the boys lately. “Sorry about Lucas.”

Max sighed, crossed her arms over her chest. “Who?”

Dustin cackled. “Ooh, that’s ice cold.”

To be continued...

[Author’s Notes: This is obviously still a work in progress, but I thought maybe posting it would get me excited to keep working on it. Obviously it’s far past Christmas, but we love the snowy 80s vibes. Also I’ve been loving theories of Max and Steve teaming up in season 4 (I mean, obvs we’ve seen them on set together). And I just remember, vividly, being a 16-year-old girl and having MASSIVE crushes on the older boys that I did plays with, or the ones that hung out with my friends’ older siblings, etc. Just playing around. I have some ideas of what will happen next. So maybe let me know if you’d care to read more? Thaaaaanks. xo]

#stranger things #stranger things fic #max mayfield #mc #steve harrington #crush #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler #some speculated #stancy #max likes steve

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dweetwise · 4 years

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day 11: crying

prompt from: whumptober pairing: felix x ace notes: all this angst is getting to me, i’m so glad tomorrow is a fluff day ;w; warnings: amnesia, implied suicide word count: 1960

If there was anything Ace had always been good at, it was dealing with all the various shit life threw his way. He'd smile and roll with the punches, not wasting time on pointless concepts like regret and what if:s.

The Entity's world had been no exception. Sure, it was objectively worse than just another poker losing streak or scam gone wrong, but since there wasn't anything he could do to change it, he just tried to make the most of it. And no, he didn’t particularly like getting chased or stabbed or brutally murdered, but in the end he was still alive and free to hang out with his newfound friends and make shitty jokes. It was the new normal, and like always, Ace adapted with surprising ease.

Until he didn't.

It had been like any typical not-day at the campfire, where a trial was taking place but Ace wasn't chosen for it. The only thing different from usual was that Ace was a little on edge, though from worry or anticipation, he wasn't sure.

Felix was the newest addition to their group, and despite only being there for what couldn't be more than a couple of months, he'd made a huge impact on Ace's life. Ace had never been any kind of clingy in his old life, but even he had to admit that he'd much rather have Felix by his side at the campfire than in a trial at the mercy of the Entity's Monster of the Day.

And maybe his heart broke a little when Adam, Cheryl and Quentin returned from the trial and Adam met his eyes and offered a pained “I'm sorry, we tried”. Ace gave a half-assed reassurance in return, and despite knowing that they always came back after a sacrifice and weren't any worse for wear, it wasn't a pleasant thing to go through.

But if he'd thought that information broke his heart, the next one shattered it into pieces.

Felix finally returned to the campfire, his look just as impeccable as ever, like he'd been preparing for an important business meeting instead of taking a chainsaw through the gut. Ace felt his fake smile give way to a genuine one, unexplainable relief flooding through him upon the confirmation that yes, even after a hundred sacrifices Felix was still alive. For some reason, Felix was frowning, so Ace made his way over to cheer him up, a witty comment already on the tip of his tongue—

“Wo zum Teufel bin ich?" Felix said, looking at him with a very confused expression that made him stop dead in his tracks.

It wasn't uncommon for Felix to revert back to his native tongue in certain situations, but it was usually only a word or two. And it wasn't like him to keep his distance from the others like this, not since befriending the group and especially not after they’d started dating.

“Come again?" Nea snorted from somewhere behind Ace, probably thinking it some kind of joke.

When Felix looked at her with clear wariness, Ace already knew what he was going to say, having seen that same exact look only months before.

“Where am I?” Felix asked, and then further twisted the knife in Ace's heart by looking back at him and adding “Who are you?”.

Ace didn't pay much attention after that. He sat by the fire while the others hovered around Felix in worry, staring at the ground and asking himself why.

Claudette came by to offer him some empty words of comfort and a gentle hand on his shoulder. He heard Bill raising his voice in the group and urging them to “calm the fuck down and let the guy breathe”. And eventually, Yui was there, kneeling before him and commanding Ace to look at her.

“He got hit with Leatherface's mallet really hard during the mori,” the biker told him, her stern expression being enough to convince Ace. “Adam and Claud said it's post-traumatic amnesia from the concussion. It's temporary.”

“Yeah. Okay,” Ace said, realizing how shaky his voice sounded, dragging a hand through his hair to try to quell his doubts.

Hours passed and Felix didn't get any better. Meg and Steve were by his side the entire time, reminiscing stories from the campfire and some of his best moments of outsmarting the killers to try to jog his memory, but nothing seemed to work.

Claudette suggested maybe Ace should talk to him, as he'd been the closest to him since he got here. So he swallowed his own grief and put on a shitty smile and shooed Meg and Steve away to sit down with Felix alone.

But when Felix started talking about how he had to get back because of his girlfriend and the baby he was so excited for, Ace had to nope the fuck out before he started bawling or cussing him out.

He avoided Felix for the entire day, playing some dumb card game with Ash he was pretty sure the other just made up, and despite his mind not being anywhere near the cards the bastard let him win. Nea was being even more obnoxious than usual, shit-talking the killers and trying to get Ace to join in, and it was really obvious that they were trying to keep him distracted, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

Then the next trial came and Dwight, Tapp, Kate and Zarina were off, and Ace was left to stare at the futile sight of Jane asking Felix about trials he had no recollection of.

“What if he never remembers?” Ace heard Cheryl whisper.

“It's temporary,” Yui immediately snapped.

“Maybe it takes another resurrection to fix,” Adam said, but it sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Ace felt empty. The worry and fear and absolute loneliness had created a hole in his chest he didn't know how to fix, and wouldn't until Felix was back to his old self, because he would be, because that's how it always worked—

And then Dwight stumbled into camp and looked around with pure terror in his eyes and asked if they knew a way back into the city and Ace's world stopped turning.

The hole in his chest was instantly filled with grief and anguish and he was helpless to stop the sob from wracking his entire body, burying his face into his shaking hands and mourning what he now knew he'd never get back.

There was a commotion again, and he wasn't the only one who was crying, the entire group shaken to the core at their leader losing his memory and now realizing it wasn't an accident.

There were arms around Ace’s shoulders and who he thought was Laurie whispering that she's “so, so sorry, but we’ll get through this”, and if he could do something other than cry he'd have told her that no, he doesn't think they will.

The Entity had a lot of creative ways to torture them, but none of them had been enough to break him until now.

It was hours or maybe even days before Ace came to and could try to think somewhat clearly. Nancy and Adam were standing in the middle of camp, evenly explaining that they needed to start documenting everything, that the Entity had changed its rules and a death now meant forgetting everything after coming to the realm.

Some of the others were sobbing and the rest looked grimly serious, the usual laughter and outrageous stories around the fire long forgotten. Yui was hugging Kate in a death grip and Nea and Meg held each other and carried a hurried conversation with worried expressions, the couples no doubt terrified of forgetting each other.

He looked over to Dwight, and saw Jake being much more calm and collected than Ace could ever be, patiently explaining everything to his boyfriend and gently holding his hand. Dwight already looked almost as smitten as before he lost his memory, and Ace couldn't help the sharp pang of jealousy at how easy it was for them.

“So you, uh… said you left your family? Can I ask why?” Dwight asked, just as eager as ever to get to know Jake, and blushing when Jake gave a lovestruck smile and shared his life story without complaint.

How Jake wasn't a broken shell of a man like him, he'd never know.

Ace considered telling Felix everything, but what would be the point? Even if he did somehow manage to worm his way into Felix's heart again, the memories were lost forever, not to mention he’d be back to square one after Felix got sacrificed the next time.

There was a map and a piece of charcoal shoved into his hands, and Ace looked up at Zarina's usually carefully schooled features twisted into uncertainty.

“We're writing letters to yourselves,” Zarina explained. “For when—if we die, we have some guidance and know about the important stuff.”

She left him to it and he idly wondered if it would have even made a difference for Felix.

Suddenly, a new determination hit him and he started jotting down what he knew he needed to hear. His codeword for safety, so he’d know it was real. How he got to the realm and how long he'd been there. The names of his friends and the insistence that he trusted them all with his life. The few killers who were somewhat reasonable. The names of the couples and some random gossip he could use to lighten the mood.

‘Felix’ he started a sentence automatically, but then paused. A dark thought was creeping up in the back of his mind, and he knew exactly what needed to happen next. He finished the sentence with ‘has a girlfriend and kid in the real world’, before folding the piece of paper and placing it in his jacket pocket and waiting for a trial to start.

It was two days before Ace got called into a trial, and while the others were panicking and hugging each other and trying not to cry, he felt calmer than he had since this whole thing started.

“Keep an eye on Ace, okay?” he even heard Kate murmur to Bill, and it was almost enough to make him change his mind.

But then the trial started and Ace ran right into the center of the map to get chased first by the Wraith.

He was on his second hook, struggling against the Entity’s claws, with only one generator left and only one other person having been hooked. His chances were looking good, a weak killer on a strong map, his teammates pumping out generator after generator. With a much worse threat than sacrifice and resurrection looming in the distance, their determination had improved tenfold.

The Wraith was nowhere to be seen when Bill made his way over to the hook.

“Hold on, bud,” Bill grunted, slowly vaulting the window in front of him as not to alert the killer of the rescue in advance.

The last generator popped and Ace smiled for the first time in days, a toothy grin that probably came off as maniacal, realizing he could finally fulfill his plan while knowing the others would make it out.

“Ace, what are you—” there was alarm on Bill's features and he picked up his pace to a sprint, but it was too late.

“Sorry, old friend,” Ace offered before he let go.

“ACE!”

Bill's panicked scream was the last thing he heard before the claw pierced straight through his gut, and he had a few seconds of time to feel a bad for putting Bill through that, before his consciousness faded to black.

At least he wouldn’t remember any of it.

#whumptober2020 #no.11 #crying #dead by daylight #fic #suicide tw #riconti #ace visconti #felix richter #dweetwrites #dbd #dbd fanfic #prompt #felix x ace #death tw

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itsbuckytm · 4 years

Text

The one with the hidden bruises. | Steve Harrington Imagine

An imagine of Steve Harrington and Hargrove!Reader where they both hate each other until a darker secret is being revealed.

Warning : Abuse/Violence/Slurs

Type : Sad.

Enjoy ♥︎

Your’s and Steve’s relationship had always come either with pure rage or jealousy with one another. Knowing you were Billy’s twin out a 100 the chances of you adapting the same attitude of your brother wasn’t even questionable.

Classes ended in a matter of hour and all of the students went home or somewhere they could get their desire distractions away from school for the next twenty four hours.

You on the other hand decided to go on a walk around Hawkins’s school and the park. You had warned your brother earlier about your absent once back home and to tell your father before he could get worried. Or worse angry.

One of your hand in your pocket another one holding your bag’s strap you were ready to start your little journey. You were fairly new to Hawkins and your curiousity took over you and you just had to adventure yourself out there.

After all Hawkins was a small village you weren’t so scared of getting lost anyway. During your little adventure you realized something very different. The citizens were welcoming and so calmed which was the complete opposite of California. Yet without your mother around Cali nor Hawkins nor anywhere it wasn’t the same.

You knew you had to get yourself lost on your own thought when you felt a strange car sound coming near you nearly scaring you to death. You knew it slowed down when your head looked over to see who could possibly follow you. Especially at this time.

It was Steve. His vehicle engine stopped once he parked next to you. He kneeled down his head a little to have a better look at you. “You know for a pretty girl like you, staying this late wouldn’t be good for your own safety.”

Shit. Have you been walking this long to realize it that the sun was practically down at this point?

You rolled your eyes. “Look who’s talking. For someone who isn’t creepy at all driving around the city to follow pretty girls. Yeah totally not creepy at all. Harrington.”

The way you had said his last name made him more irritated then he ever was and you liked doing so. “Don’t spill useless words out your mouth, Hargrove. Now come. I’m going to bring you home.”

Home? Crap. Knowing it was getting late your family has probably started dinner by now.

“No.”

He looked at you with disbelief. “Y/N, your parents must be getting pretty worried. Or do you even have any parents? Who am I kidding you two are such a piece of meat that I bet you, your parents disowned you both and made you move here.”

You were this close to punch him but he was Steve and you were.... you. “Suck it up dipshit, I bet Nancy left you because of that small dick of yours.”

Ouch. Steve acted as if he was shock or even felt humiliated at all. “Also let’s face it your brain could only hold a kid way younger than you to even keep yourself stable these days. How sad.”

Now you had pull the last strains of his patient. He started the engine of his vehicle and once you were fully settled in his car he drove not minding a shit at the speed limit he was driving on at this point.

You two didn’t say a single word when you finally arrived at your house. The lights were on and your father’s and Susan’s car were also parked. You were in some deep shit.

You got out of the car not even facing Steve due to the conversation you both had earlier before the drive until your father opened the door before you could do so. “Y/N, your late.”

You lowered your head, “I know, Sir...” Neil tried his best to remain the father he was meant to be and to educate his children professionally especially when Steve was still watching from a distant. “I didn’t quite understand.”

“Yes, Sir... and I—-“ You felt his firm fingers slapping the right side of your cheek. Being so use to it you didn’t even flinched. Once you lifted your head up you looked around like a lost puppy. Not only for something but for someone. “Your /precious/ Billy went to pick up dinner for you. Since we ate everything.”

Neil then grasp both of your arm and violently slammed your back on the wall near the door way. Steve couldn’t believe his own eyes.

The Hargroves he thought he knew from the start, now knew damn well why the two of you acted all tougher. Your attitude in school was a way to keep your broken pieces far away the from arch reality you had been living. Especially after your mother’s passing.

“If you weren’t such a whore 24/7. At least we could’ve shown you some respect.”

You just couldn’t believe, Susan on the other hand tried to rassure Neil and informed him that a gentleman with the name Steve Harrington has picked you up from your walk. And to as an excuse said that you had a rough day to make the situation loosen a bit.

She was trying her best you knew that. But when your father’s eyes darkened he said. “Who’s Steve?”

“One of Maxine’s good friend to. Apparently he’s some kind of babysitter...?” She chuckled nervously. Trying everything in her power to distract your father from this hell you now couldn’t escape from.

“Y/N?” A voice way too familiar was heard. It was Billy. He had picked you some food and with worried eyes looked at not only you but your father as well. Until his expression darkens. “Keep your filthy hands off her now.”

And with that your eyes looked up at Steve from across the street. You could only look at him not moving an itch until your father closed the door knowing damn well where you were looking to.

Steve on the other hand had watched the whole scene with his own two bloody eyes. You needed to get out of there not only yourself but Billy and Maxine. But for now he just couldn’t he had to let the life decide. Whether he liked it or not.

After the whole situation of embarrassment, you cried all night. Your father kept yelling at you to stop hanging with whoever this Steve was. You tried to resonate with him but as time went you realize you had been talking to a wall this whole time.

Now cuddled up in Billy’s arms. Billy caressed gently your fresh bruised your father had been giving you when Steve watched. “Since when..?” Billy couldn’t believe. How could he be so blinded by his father’s actions. Especially towards the person he cared the most out of this family. /You/.

“I want this to be over Billy.... Why can’t he just accept the fact that mom’s gone and I can never be like her....” You sniffed one of your last tears and wiped them up with your fingers.

“If he ever lay a hand on you tell me, if this happened ever since mom died I could’ve saved your ass, Y/N you know that.” You nodded and soon your eyes felt heavy and your were exhausted and sleeping was your only cure right now. “Rest now, tomorrow you and I on a long road trip far from Hawkins and a huge after care.... Sleep well.”

Maxine had arrived from one of Will’s D&D games. She was blinded by the situation the both of you had between you and your father. Susan tried everything to keep her daughter far away from the abuse. She would often be told “Go play with your friends and I’ll come pick you up.” After all Maxine didn’t complained at all socializing and making friends were her own way of surviving.

Once she step foot inside her home she felt the tension. Had Billy gotten into trouble again? She didn’t bothered to ask the game she had tonight had her so thrilled. As she walked towards your room she began to speaks. Like a little sister who’s exciting to share a moment of the day with her older one.

“Y/N? Guess what! You are welcome to play! Thought on the other hand, Steve will be there to. I know you hate his guts just as Billy does but—!”

She then heard the small cries of yours. She leaned on your bedroom door and opened slightly hoping she hasn’t got herself caught, yet.

“Shh....” Maxine couldn’t quite understand. She had never seen Billy like that. Nor Y/N. Did she had a break up? No... From what she remembered she was single. Her eyes soon then adjust themselves with the slightly dim of light from your room. Bruises on your arms. No.... How?

With surprise Neil closed the door soon as he sees his step daughter peaking into her older’s sibling’s room. “Time for bed kid.”

She didn’t argued and knew them well what was going on at this point. Billy and you didn’t had that though persona it was your father who both mentally and physically had turned you into this state. She wanted to do something but for now she had to just like Steve let what the life decides to give.

#steve harrintong imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagines #billy hargrove sister imagine #billy hargrove imagines #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #maxine hargrove #eleven #will byres #dustin handerson #jim hopper imagines #imagines #x reader #fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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cinaed · 4 years

Text

Red vs Blue Season 3 Rewatch

Slowly making my way through my DVD collection of Red vs Blue!

"You can't die! I'm bored!" Donut is so ruthless in the earlier seasons and I love it.

We really needed more Tex and Sheila girltime, talking about gender inequality and workplace harassment.

Simmons actually calling himself Simmons 2.0 manages to be both hilarious and sad.

Yes, Sarge and Caboose team up! Season 3 has some of my favorite odd couples, and Sarge and Caboose is one of my favorites. Sarge being furious that Doc has a higher body count than he does, Caboose's dedication to nap time.

I love Caboose's moral boost! He's great at compliments even if Sarge doesn't appreciate them.

I know these zealots were like a mostly one-off joke, but also like...they could be a creepy potential experiment in making soldiers that can't die, which I wouldn't put past anyone in the Halo universe.

I love the blame game of who came up with the plan that ended up with everyone scattered across the galaxy. Sarge: "My only choice is to blame Grif, for coming up with such a flawed plan. Stupid, stupid Grif." Grif: "I should have never listened to Donut's stupid fucking plan."

Church and Grif in jail is one of my all-time favorite things.

Simmons is such a tech savvy guy, reworking the teleporters to make them communication devices as well! He just wants some love and support.

Caboose getting angry. I mean, who wouldn't get angry at kittens with spikes that you couldn't cuddle?

"Simmons, you get an F in efficiency. But I have to give you an A+ in dramatic timing."

I do love O'Malley and Doc's dynamic. The Do Not Call list!

I love Tex's half-truths about the Freelancers.

Also love Sarge calling Caboose a little rascal and Simmons just seething with jealousy. And he's also jealous about Donut!

Church: There's no "I" in team, Grif. Grif: Yeah, there's no "U" either. So I guess if I'm not on the team, and you're not on the team, nobody's on the God damn team. The team sucks!

I may or may not quote that to myself on a weekly basis.

Again, just Church and Grif together in that prison cell is sheer perfection. As is Church going "Wait, the people outside sound like they're winning, that can't be our teams."

Tucker likes Sheila so much! And she packed them food! Well, the AI equivalent of food, but it's the thought that counts! Just the sheer affection in Tucker's voice as he promises her they'll be back gave me emotions.

And another good moment of Simmons being the one to suggest they track down Grif, because no one else was going to.

In retrospect, Grif has clearly watched some prison pornos. Like... Buddy.

Wyoming calling Tex Allison has so many interesting implications.

Simmons re-engineers stuff, Sarge makes a weather control device. Where's the AU where Sarge is a mad scientist.

Simmons asking Grif if he's okay after prison. Just loving the slow build of friendship between them.

Also big parallels of Church's "Misery loves company" and his willingness to let the bomb blow them all up together to later seasons stuff.

I still love that everyone's go-to explanation for stuff is "time travel."

Donut is too thin-skinned about criticism for his play. He'd never survive on Broadway, lol. But I love everything about the time travel show.

How is Tucker the smartest person in this group? But also Tucker being so worried about Church. I am having a lot of Tucker feelings this season.

I love Grif's devotion to cheesy disaster movies.

Caboose: Look what I found. Donut: I found it! Caboose: Look at what I took credit for finding.

Poor Donut! A grenade to the head and now his hand got chopped up.

Grif: Hey, what're you doing? Simmons: What does it look like I'm doing, I'm getting in the jeep. Grif: What're we, on a date? Get in the back. Simmons: Oh you're so insecure.

I would've watched an entire season of Doc and O'Malley and Lopez's Lair Improvements. And when Doc mentions a real estate agent all I can think of is an AU where Doc meets Kai because she's running her business on the side while in the military. But also Doc's motivational powers in the living room, O'Malley's belief that the cat won't hang on until Friday, it's great.

The iconic jeep conversation is still good now as it was back then. Re-enacting Dukes of Hazzard! "I can tell you what we weren't doing."

Grif's mind immediately going to gay stuff as a favor from Tex. Between this and his prison conversation with Church, someone is protesting way too much.

Sarge's plans are so amazingly terrible. I love them.

Grif getting choked up over hating Blue Team and Tucker and missing the days where they all just stood around and talked a lot.

Tex sounding genuinely concerned when Tucker falls into the hall. Luckily he gets a cool sword out of it!

Tex's conversation with Simmons about shooting Lopez's head is a great example of an eloquent helmet look. Tex doesn't even say a word and you can feel the disbelief and rage when Simmons implies she may have missed.

Church: Caboose, I know you're there. I'm leaving this message from two thousand years in the past. Whatever you do, don't, touch, anything. Apparently you're this culture's version of the apocalypse. You're going to destroy this building, and somehow bring about doom for their entire race. Caboose: Mmmmmmnooo... that doesn't sound like me. I like people. And buildings also.

Time for some actual time travel or at least a simulation. But I do love Butch Flowers, haha. Whose greatest enemy is apathy! Love watching Church just make his own life worse. Also love the bit about Sheila having been made in Mexico.

"Man... First I kill myself, then I realise I'm a honkin' dork. Not a very good day to be me."

Church: I learned a very valuable lesson in my travels, Tucker. No matter how bad things might seem- Caboose: They could be worse. Church: Nope, no matter how bad they seem, they can't be any better, and they can't be any worse, because that's the way things fucking are, and you better get used to it Nancy. Quit yer bitching.

Grif and Simmons and Sarge talking about the Blues, and Simmons saying he's not looking for friends and doesn't like his current crop AKA he just accidentally admitted Grif is his friend. Grif just didn't realize it.

Between the warthog and monkeying about discussions, Church and Grif really are on the same wavelength.

I love the scheming versus plotting conversation.

Ugh, the arrival of Andy. I hate him so much.

Haha, Simmons lying about his math skills is great.

Uuuugh, Andy. :/ Freckles is SUCH a step up as Caboose's AI murder buddy.

"Do we really have to seize destiny? Can't we just invite it to join our online circle of friends?"

I love Lopez's little rebellion-- he might be under O'Malley's control, but he's also going to sabotage O'Malley as much as possible. And tricking O'Malley into insulting himself in Spanish.

I really forgot that Tex straight up tried to steal Tucker's sword.

Military law is very clear in regard to the "not it" methodology for making decisions. Sorry, Donut.

I forgot that Donut can speak Spanish. In fairness, so did the show.

Hello, Crunchbite!

Next up, the PSAs!

Some of these have aged poorly... Like, uh, jokes about 2004 politics do not land well in 2020. And uh jokes about colds and flus. ...Okay, the Christmas PSA where Church destroys the Reds' Christmas tree, tells Caboose the truth about Santa Claus, gives everyone knock-off coal, convinces Church that Santa is now wearing blue and working only for the Blues, and scams Tucker out of a $350 gift is pretty funny though.

I enjoyed Burnie playing himself in the outtakes by putting words he can't pronounce in his own script. And Grif singing Happy Birthday to Church in prison. Also poor Geoff being told to adlib and immediately having Grif start to tell Church "You're looking buff, man, have you been working--" and being immediately booed by everyone, and someone says they'll use it for an outtake and Geoff is like "It's funny! And I didn't even get to finish!" And everyone trying to figure out Tucker's sword and him accidentally killing everyone in various outtakes. And in the deleted scenes Tex keeps making fun of O'Malley's plans to rule the universe, haha. Also the deleted scene that's just another Simmons' self-insert fanfiction, just as a video instead of a fake game in the Fan Guide.

It also gave us character profiles! I'm sure a lot of this has since been contradicted in canon, but interesting that we got specific hometowns for a few people: Donut in Leggatt Plains, Iowa, which doesn't seem to be a real place; Moscow, Iowa for Sarge, which actually does; Tucker's from Detroit, and Delta Commune for Doc. Oh, is this where we get Caboose grew up on the moon, with his hometown being labeled as Low G Colony, Moon? And hey, I always had him be a middle child, I like that this one did too. Tex likes money and scars and dislikes Donut. Okay I know that's definitely not real, but the idea of Allison growing up in an orphanage hurts me a little. Okay, and I know for sure that Simmons would die of happiness at the fact that Sarge's likes are battles, fringe science, and Simmons. Lopez likes oil and unions, and hates capitalism. My kind of guy. Last but not least, I actually really like Simmons as the son of a bunch of right-hand stooges (who probably wanted power for themselves).

#Red vs Blue #rvb rewatch #long post

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ghostspideys-moved · 4 years

Text

We’ll Have Tomorrow

Chapter Ten

A/N: We have two more chapters left after this, and I’m really excited! But don’t worry. The next part to this dips into season three, so anything unsolved by the end of this series will have a chance to work itself out.

Word Count: 4.6k

Pairings: Steve Harrington x OC, Nancy Wheeler x Jonathan Byers x OC (eventually)

Summary: Hawthorne is having a lot of problems. Dealing with them isn’t easy, but Max gives him some unprecedented advice that might actually help.

Hawthorne was having more problems than he would like to admit. For starters, he was only barely managing to fix his English grade, and math wasn’t going any better. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d never really had an easy time with math, and it was really biting him in the ass right now.

As it stood, he wasn’t having the greatest time. On top of that, his sister ditched once again, just like she had yesterday. No doubt she was with Steve. Not that he could blame her, especially since he knew sometimes her powers jst went a little haywire. That had happened to him a number of times, but he was probably better at controlling it than her.

Unfortunately, that meant he was on his own for lunch. He had a few other friends, sure. The theater kids were practically a whole clique of their own. There were at least two others in theater whose company he enjoyed at least a little.

Namely, Robin Buckley and Annie Hardwick. They were probably the coolest out of everyone else in that class, and they seemed to know what they were doing more than some of the others.

He will admit, though. He’s not always the greatest with people, so he only really hung out with either of them during class.

As depressing as it might have seemed, he opted to sit at a table alone, partially wishing he could just disappear. Unlike his sister, he wasn’t incredibly smart, so he couldn’t risk ditching nearly as much as her. He didn’t hold that against her, but it would certainly be nice if he didn’t feel stupid all the time.

River always offered to help where she could, and for the most part it got him somewhere. But he always felt like no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t retain information as well as her, for as much as she might not pay attention.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he saw a tray slid across from him. Two, actually. When Hawthorne looked up, Nancy and Jonathan sat across from him, friendly smiles on both their faces.

“Uh, hi.” He mentally slapped himself for being the most awkward person in existence.

“Hey. It’s okay if we join, right?” Nancy asked. Hawthorne nodded after a moment. He really didn’t mind. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d had any other company.

The three of them ate in silence for a moment, and it was almost awkward. No, it was definitely a little awkward.

“Where’s River?” Jonathan asked after a moment of silence.

Hawthorne shrugged. “Probably ditching with Steve again,” he answered.

Nancy seemed to be thinking carefully before she asked, “Are they, like together?” She backtracked a little, not wanting to sound like she was jealous, because she truly wasn’t. She felt she had no right to be after the way things happened between them.

“Which is fine,” she quickly added. “I was just wondering, and I think it’s good for Steve if he’s moved on.”

Hawthorne recalled hearing about their break up, which was why she was dating Jonathan now. The thought of it made him feel a little weird. Even the slightest hint of jealousy perhaps? He wasn’t sure why, though.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said. “If so, my sister never told me.” He liked to believe she’d tell him something like that.

Nancy nodded. “Oh. Okay.” She bit her lip, seemingly still pretty deep in thought. “Well, Jonathan and I are going to the movies this weekend if you wanted to join.”

Hawthorne was surprised she’d even ask, and he was also curious why. He’d only be intruding, or at the very least he’d be the third wheel. The more he thought about it, that might actually be worse third wheeling.

“Are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want to impose, especially if you guys are on a date.” He had a feeling she might be asking out of pity. As if he didn’t have anything better to do this weekend. He didn’t, but was it really that obvious?

Jonathan answered this time, shaking his head. “No, don’t worry. We both want you to come,” he insisted. “I mean, you and I have been friends for a while now, and I knew you don’t get to do a whole lot.”

That was probably the biggest similarity between the two of them. Jonathan typically like to stay home and listen to music if he wasn’t out taking pictures, and Hawthorne couldn’t say his free time wasn’t spent much differently.

On the one hand, this might be the first time he’d get to do something without being alone. On the other hand, it might just be really awkward for him. Maybe it was worth a shot, though.

“If you’re both fine with it,” he said.

Both of them insisted he wasn’t intruding, and he knew Nancy especially could be persistent.

“Trust me, we really want you to hang out with us,” she said.

Hawthorne nodded, feeling like he didn’t see any reason not to. “Yeah, alright.”

Nancy smiled brightly, and he really couldn’t help thinking just how amazing her smile really was. He was so confused right now, but there wasn’t much he could do about it right now.

Lunch passed by quickly, and they reminded him they’d be going on Saturday.

Hawthorne struggled through the rest of his classes until he was finally free to head home. He liked the walk to and from school. It was quiet now that it was just him, and it gave him enough time to think before heading home.

However, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of wheels against the sidewalk. When he turned behind him, he wasn't too surprised to see Max riding her skateboard. She smiled when she spotted him and pushed herself closer to him.

There was just enough space for her to skate alongside him.

“Why are you walking by yourself?” she asked.

“Because I like to,” he said, “and because River gets rides from Steve now.”

Max gave him a surprised look, but she nodded. “Oh. I was just wondering because you seem kind of stressed.”

He hadn’t realized he might look that way, and he supposed he was for a number of reasons. “Maybe a bit,” he admitted. “My math grade is shit right now.”

“Is that all? Dude, I’m amazing at math. Let me help.”

“No offense, but you’re in, what? Sixth grade?”

“Eighth,” she corrected. “And I’m in the advanced math classes, so I think I know what I’m doing.”

Of all the subjects, he wouldn’t have expected math to be her strong suit. But he needed the help, and if she could do that, he didn’t have much room to object.

“If you can somehow help me figure out eleventh grade math, then sure,” he agreed.

“Aren’t you in twelfth grade?” she asked.

“That’s how much I suck at math.”

They made it back to his house without any more inquiries, and he sat her at the dinner table as he pulled out his homework.

He sighed and looked over at her. “Okay, what the hell does any of this mean?”

Max skimmed over a few of the problems, her eyes lighting up when she recognized what he was doing.

“Oh! This isn’t too hard,” she said.

“Easy for you to say.”

Max rolled her eyes and took his pencil and notebook. “Look, you guys learned how to foil, right?” she asked.

Hawthorne nodded.

“Okay, it’s kind of like that.”

She drew out the first equation, demonstrating how to solve it before she let him do the second one. He struggled through it a little, so she helped anywhere he fumbled and messed up.

It took about five problems before he really got the hang of it. He was surprised just how good Max was at math, but he probably should have figured. The kids were all smart one way or another. Max was no exception, even if she wasn’t into science like the party. She was plenty smart in her own right, and it amazed him.

“Thanks,” he said.

Max smiled and sat back. “No problem. It’s not so hard once you get the hang of it.”

“Now if only I could figure out my problems in English.” Hawthorne sighed and rubbed his face, looking a little weary.

“What’s wrong with that?”

He thought for a second, unsure how to really explain it. “I’m just not that great at reading,” he admitted. “I can do it, but it takes me a little longer than everyone else, and I’ve been told my comprehension is a little messed up because of it.”

Max hummed in thought. “Maybe it’s because English isn’t your first language,” she suggested. “It’s Russian, isn’t it?” She was sure Dustin mentioned that.

“Yeah.”

“How good’s your reading in Russian?”

He hadn’t really read much in Russian since he was about ten. So, understandably, he wasn’t too great at it.

Hawthorne shrugged. “Uh, not great. I mean, it’s been about eight years since I’ve had to read in anything but English.”

Max mulled over his answer as she seemed to be drawing some sort of conclusion. “Do you think maybe you have dyslexia?” he asked. “I knew someone in California who had that.”

“What the hell is that?”

She was a little unsure how to explain it. “Well, I don’t know a whole lot, so you should probably look into it,” she started. “But what I do know is it affects reading and comprehension, like you said, and sometimes spelling.”

Hawthorne was painfully aware he wasn’t the best at spelling, mainly because he came across words he didn’t know too well and spelled them how he thought they sounded. That was often misleading when it came to English, he’d learned.

“Oh,” was all he could say for a moment or two. “You know, that would actually explain a lot.”

“Maybe you should talk to Hopper about it,” she suggested. “If anything, he might be able to help you figure out what you should do.” It wasn’t like anything else he’d been doing was helping him much. Maybe she had a point.

“Yeah, I’ll see what he thinks.” Hawthorne ruffled her hair. “You want a snack? It’s the least I can do.”

Max nodded as he got out of his seat and looked through the kitchen. He quickly made her a grilled cheese sandwich and sat down again when he handed her the plate.

She took a bite into it, immediately lighting up at how amazing it tasted.

“Holy shit.” “It’s a sandwich, kid.”

Max shook her head. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure this is the best thing I’ve had in a long time,” she said.

“I’m glad you think so. But it’s still just a sandwich, and I don’t see the big deal.”

She shrugged, taking another big bite. Her mouth was full when she spoke again. “‘S really good, okay?”

Hawthorne laughed and ruffled her hair. “If you say so.”

She finally swallowed and looked up at him with bright eyes. “Can you just always cook for me?”

“Doesn’t your mom feed you?”

“Yeah, but eating with my family is always awkward, and my mom doesn’t really make me snacks like she used to.” She deflated a little at the thought, and it made his heart wrench at least a little.

“We’ll see,” he promised. “I’ll figure something out.”

Max quickly finished her sandwich, and he made her one more out of the kindness of his heart. That and he felt she deserved it for helping him out as much as she had.

He let her eat as his mind wandered a little. There was so much going on in his head right now, and he wasn’t sure how to begin addressing any of it. Math was one thing, but he had a lot more going on than that. Max seemed to pick up on his anxiety. “You good?” she asked between bites.

Hawthorne hummed and nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking.”

“About what?”

Sighing, he sat back in his seat, his shoulders slumping. “Don’t worry. It’s not your problem.”

“You said that about the math thing, too. I think I’ve proven I can help.”

He ruffled her hair again, only earning a slight protest. “Never said you couldn’t,” he assured her. “I’m just a little confused, I suppose.”

She took another bite and gestured for him to elaborate.

“Okay, but anything I tell you stays between us, got it?” When she nodded, he sighed and crossed his arms. “Some time around Christmas, I think I realized I like Jonathan,” he confessed.

Max’s eyes widened for a moment before he continued. “Obviously, he’s dating Nancy now, so that was out of the question. And then, I don’t know, I started noticing things I liked about Nancy, too.”

It felt wrong, but even worse now that he was actually saying it out loud. In fact, he hadn’t even come to that conclusion himself until a few minutes ago.

“So you like them both?”

“Yeah, I guess so. I don’t know if that’s a bad thing, or not.”

Max shook her head and wiped the crumbs from her face. “I don’t think it is,” she said. “I’m pretty sure you’re not the first person. I mean, for starters, I think that means you’re probably bisexual, or something.” She’d heard that term used a few times when she still lived in California, and from what she understood, that probably applied to him.

“What’s that?” he asked curiously.

“I think it means you like guys and girls. Or, like, two genders in general, I guess.” Hawthorne thought that over for a moment. Honestly, it sounded accurate, and he was amazed there was even a word for that.

“But what about if I like them both? As in, I don’t think I’d really mind dating them both at the same time?” He doubted that would ever happen. If anything, he was sure they’d think he was weird. He wasn’t sure if he should be unloading all this on a kid, but at least she seemed to want to help.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But from all the stuff I’ve seen when there’s those pride parades in San Francisco, I don’t think you’d be the first at all.”

Max hesitated for a moment, wiping her palms on her jeans. “If it makes you feel better, I’m pretty sure I’m bisexual.”

Hawthorne gave her a shocked look. Somehow, this kid seemed to have things figured out a little better than he did.

“Is that so?”

Max shrugged. “I’ve had crushes on both guys and girls,” she admitted. “And if I’m wrong, I’m wrong. I don’t think it really hurts to identify wrongly.”

It was dawning on him that he really underestimated just how much these kids really understood. She wasn’t wrong, and he knew that. Max was unbelievably wise for a thirteen-year-old.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he said. “When did you get so smart?”

She laughed and shrugged. “I like to think I’ve always been this smart.” Hawthorne snorted. “No kidding.”

He let her finish her sandwich before sending her on her way. It was going to get dark soon, and he didn’t want her skateboarding in the dark by herself. Even if she insisted she’d be fine. You could never be safe, especially after going through what they had. It was easy to be paranoid.

It wasn’t long before Saturday rolled around. Naturally, he hadn’t forgotten about what Max told him, which might have made him even more anxious than he was before.

Hawthorne was more than happy to spend time with Nancy and Jonathan. Now that he’d sorted out his feelings better, it made him feel even more awkward, though. If he messed anything up, he was sure they’d hate him forever.

He just had to be as casual as possible. After all, this was just friends hanging out. So what if two of those friends were in a relationship, and that he so badly wanted to be a part of that?

Who was he kidding? He might as well take on a hoard of Demodogs all by himself. It would be just as painful.

Hawthorne looked himself over in the mirror, trying to tame the red mess that was his hair. Sure, he hadn’t dressed up because that would be weird, right? But he didn’t have to look like a disaster.

Before he could really overthink too much, Hopper was calling him. They must be here now.

He looked himself over one more time before leaving his room and heading to the door. As he expected, Nancy and Jonathan were standing at the door.

“You guys have fun,” Hopper said, patting his back. “Be back before dinner.”

Hawthorne nodded and said goodbye before he followed them out to Jonathan’s car. He got in the back seat as the car started.

As he would have expected, Jonathan had some music playing. And, if he remembered correctly, it sounded like something by The Clash. He was sure he’d heard this song before, and he knew it was the kind of music Jonathan liked.

Either way, focusing on the music made him feel at least a little less nervous. By the time they got to the movie theater, he’d mentally prepared himself.

Of course, they asked for his input on what to watch, but he didn’t think he’d mind much either way. Although, The Breakfast Club had just come out a few days ago, and he thought it could be fun.

Thankfully, both of them seemed to agree with him, and Nancy bought them all tickets. Of course, he felt a little bad that she even offered, but he much appreciated it.

At the very least, Jonathan tried to contribute to buy enough popcorn for all of them, which was awfully nice considering the Byers weren’t doing too well in terms of income. He’d been insistent, though, so Hawthorne made a mental note to repay the favor some other time. He surely had a decent amount of money now that he lived with Hopper, though he was aware he’d have to get a job soon enough.

Nancy dragged them both towards their seats and sat between them. As everyone filed in, they passed around the popcorn, a good portion of it already gone by them time the movie started.

Suffice it to say, Hawthorne was feeling a lot better about the whole thing. He didn’t feel nearly as awkward as he had been before leaving. The only thing was, he caught a glimpse of Jonathan and Nancy holding hands, and it did hurt just a little. He fought down the feeling, trying to focus for now. After all, he was genuinely enjoying himself if you took that out of the equation.

As long as he paid attention to the movie, he was sure he would be just fine.

He did laugh every now and then as he kept his eyes trained on the screen. And every now and the, he swore he might have seen Nancy glance in his direction, but it might have been wishful thinking.

By the end of the movie, he’d mostly gotten over his emotions for the time being. And he probably ate more of the popcorn than either of them. He was trying to make the most of this while he could.

Hawthorne thought he’d made it through without anything awkward happening. Then, as fate would have it, Nancy suggested they eat somewhere before calling it good.

God really did hate him, huh?

Of course, he didn’t object, and it wasn’t long before they were eating at the diner together. Surprisingly, it wasn’t nearly as awkward as he’d anticipated.

Mostly, Nancy tried to make some light conversation, doing her best to include him. And, of course, it wasn’t so hard talking to Jonathan. They’d known each other long enough now that it was easy for them to find things to talk about.

And once their food arrived, they mostly ate in silence, except for the occasional small talk. Maybe he’d over exaggerated and hyped this up more than he should have. He couldn’t help it. It was easy for his anxiety to get the better of him.

He appreciated how much they were trying not to make him feel like the third wheel. As awkward as he felt at the beginning, he was much more relaxed and enjoying himself.

This time, Hawthorne offered to pay for them, to which Nancy objected, until it was settled that they’d split the bill and call it even. He knew that was as good as it was getting.

The ride back wasn’t so bad now that they broke the ice. There was some more small talk here and there.

“What do you think you’ll do after graduation?” Nancy asked.

It occurred to him that she was still a junior and had one more year left, unlike him and Jonathan.

“Not sure,” he said truthfully. “I don’t even know what I want to do for the rest of my life.”

Nancy gave him a reassuring smile through the rear view mirror. “Well, you don’t have to have everything figured out right away. But there has to be something you like doing.”

No one had ever really asked him, but there were some things.

“Not a whole lot. I suppose I’m really good with plants, if that counts as anything. And, I can cook pretty well. I’ve been getting a lot better at sewing in my free time, too.”

He’d never really said most of that out loud, but it felt nice getting it out there. He was just better with practical things.

Jonathan smiled, he’s leaving the road for just a second. “That’s good, though. I mean, it’s pretty easy finding a job out of those.”

Admittedly, Hawthorne supposed he had a point.

“I guess so. I’m not really sure, though, so I still have to think it over.” He knew he had time, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t figure something out. It might be nice to have a summer job, though.

As soon as they pulled up to his house, Hawthorne went to open the door and paused. “Do you guys wanna come in?” he asked.

They shared a look before nodding and following him in. Hopper was surprised about having guests, but he hardly minded the extra company.

“So, how’d everyone’s day go?” he asked after serving everyone.

El grinned. “Great,” she answered.

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Mike said he could visit more in the summer.”

Hopper sighed and nodded. “That’s good, but we’re gonna have to set some rules before that happens,” he said. “Anyone else?”

“Um, Steve and I studied at the library. He got a B on his last test,” River chimed in. “So it’s doing him some good.”

“And you three?” Hopper turned expectantly.

Hawthorne took a quick bite before answering. “Good. Uh, we had fun.” He turned to Nancy and Jonathan who smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, it was pretty great,” Nancy added.

That seemed to satisfy Hopper. In all fairness, this was a lot better than how awkward dinners used to be a few months ago.

Everyone helped clean up as they finished, and Hawthorne dragged away their guests to his room for the time being. He almost didn’t want them to leave just yet.

“Thanks for today,” he said, sitting on his bed.

They joined, sitting across from him.

Nancy flashed him that bright smile he’d come to love in the short time they’d been friends. “Don’t worry. We’re glad you had fun.”

“Yeah. We were afraid you might change your mind or something,” Jonathan admitted. “You know, if things were too awkward.”

Nancy nodded. “We really didn’t want you to feel like the third wheel.”

Hawthorne shook his head, leaning back against the headboard. “No, don’t worry. It didn’t feel that way too much.”

Jonathan sighed in relief. He was glad it hadn't been so bad like he’d worried about. “That’s good.”

There was a brief silence as the two of them seemed to be discussing something without talking. They gave each other meaningful glances, something he probably wasn’t picking up on.

Eventually, they seemed to have figured out whatever was going on, and Nancy took his hand. He was surprised, to say the least, and at the most, confused.

“Can we talk about something?” she asked.

Hawthorne stared down at their hands and nodded. “Uh, yeah.” It came out more as a question, but she went on.

“The reason we asked you to come along is because we were talking a little about something.” She glanced over at Jonathan. “I know you and I haven’t especially known each other for very long, but we talked, and I think Jonathan had a good idea if you;d be okay with it.”

Hawthorne was still very confused, unsure where this was going at all.

Jonathan cleared his throat and suddenly seemed just as nervous as Hawthorne felt earlier.

“Not that you have to say anything right away, but, if you’re willing, we thought maybe the three of us could all try dating.”

It was almost like Hawthorne’s brain shut down for a moment. He felt like if he said anything, he might ruin this, and it might turn out to be a dream. He’d only ever hoped for this, and somehow everything was finally laid before him. An opportunity to get what he wanted. “Like, all three of us? Together?”

Nancy nodded, squeezing his hand lightly. “Only if you want. If not, we totally get it,” she assured him.

His mouth went dry for a moment before he nodded. “Yeah. I’d definitely like that.”

She grinned and thought for a moment before softly kissing his cheek. “I’m glad.”

Jonathan did the same, an actual smile on his face. Hawthorne was still reeling, having a hard time processing all of this.

“So, uh, how is all of this going to work?” he asked.

“We’ll figure it out slowly. Together,” Jonathan answered.

He nodded, still feeling like he might be in a dream. As soon as they’d both headed back home before it got too late, he went out to the kitchen for a glass of water, making sure this was real.

Surely enough, he was very much awake. Hopper, who’d been cleaning a little, noticed the dazed look on his face.

“You okay, kid?” He sounded slightly concerned, which was probably warranted with how out of it Hawthorne looked.

Slowly, it turned to a grin, and he nodded. “Yeah. Great, actually.”

“Care to elaborate?”

Hawthorne hesitated before he finally spoke up again, setting down his cup. “I think I’m dating Nancy and Jonathan now,” he said.

Hopper was more than a little surprised, to say the least. “Both of them?” He nodded.

“Oh. Well, uh, I’m glad,” Hopper said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Can’t say I know a whole lot about that, but as long as you’re happy. Just remember that, okay?”

He was glad he was trying to be supportive. “Just so you know, things like that don’t matter to me so long as you’re happy, okay?” Hawthorne nodded as Hopper ruffled his hair. It was just then that he remembered something. He went to grab a few things as he started putting together a few snacks and started making two grilled cheese sandwiches.

“You bringing yourself a lunch tomorrow?”

“Not for me. For Max,” he said.

“That’s nice of you. Just make sure you clean up before bed.” He patted his shoulder and went to his room.

Hawthorne finished up and cleaned before putting everything into a bag. He quickly grabbed a marker and wrote Max’s name on it before slipping in a note as well.

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