#somebody give nancy a gun

[trexy225]

Daddy Spice (Murray Gets A Cooking Show)-Stranger Things One Shot

Summary: This takes place in between season 2 and 3. I loved Nancy and Murrays dynamic (giving me like Dr. Doofensmirtz and Vanessa vibes) I didn't see a lot of them and I wanted more.

I wrote this before Season 4 Part 2 and I just have a feeling that they're going to kill Murray. I hate it. So this is how I'm coping pls clap.

“Nance, I’m going to need you to hold the camera steady,” Murray advised, tying his quilted apron over his Karate gi. Because good cooking waits for no one. 

“I am holding the camera steady-” Nancy started.

“Hold. It. STEADY!” he snapped.

“Why don’t I hold the camera-” Jonathan got up to take the camera from Nancy, but Murray shoved him back onto the couch.

“You have spaghetti noodles for arms. And my prodigy is the only one who can fully capture all of’a this. ” Murray struck a pose. “Now, CLAP FOR ME!”

Jonathan stared at Nancy, who just shrugged. Jonathan slowly started to clap, and Murray's chest puffed out proudly.

“Yes…” he breathed, rubbing his hands together. 

“So who watches this exactly?” 

“I’ll have you know that the HOA pays top dollar for my American cuisine secrets-” he took a swig of vodka and slid it towards Nancy. “Now, focus on my hands. And keep the camera steady.” 

“Yes sir,” Nancy grumbled. “And we are rolling.”

Murray took a deep breath and flashed the camera a dazzling smile… even though his hands were the only things visible.

“Hey there everyone, my name is Murray Bauman. But you all can call me Daddy Spice .” 

Nancy and Johnathan both made a face at that. 

“Today, we’re going to be making Daddy’s world-famous risotto, I’ve heard that it even makes the Russians want to change sides!” he cackled at his own joke, and Nancy and Jonathan nervously laughed with him. “Now, you’re going to need one pinch of salt in this frying pan because if you put more than one pinch I swear on your god damn mother that it’s going to taste like GARBAGE!”

“...Your apron’s on fire.” Nancy pointed out.

“Thank you for that,” Murray said through gritted teeth, slowly taking off the apron and stomping it out. “You know what, never mind. Never fucking mind. Nobody will EVER get to taste my famous risotto!”

“...So you’ll help us?”

“With what?”

“Our college applications?”

“College is-”

“And PLEASE don’t go on about the government again.” Jonathan pleaded. 

Murray's brow furrowed, and he sighed. “You become a revolutionary investigative journalist, all you wanna do is self produce your own cooking show and now I get stuck advising an idiot-”

“Which one’s the idiot?” Jonathan asked.

“And the one who’s after my job.” 

“...So we’re picking favorites-”

“Yes Jonathan, yes I’m picking favorites. Now, Nance, there’s something you need to know about freelance journalism because I know that you got that internship for those idiots at Hawkins Post, but let's be honest. They won't be able to handle you. And that's a good thing. You still have the guns that I got you, right?"

"Of course I do," Nancy answered, pulling out a revolver from her purse.

"I'm so proud." Murray breathed, tearing up.

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #fanfiction #fanfic #murray bauman #jonathan byers #murray gets a cooking show #somebody give nancy a gun #coping #fluff

[francesderwent]

Nancy was the one having assignations with a senior boy in the school bathroom, staying out after curfew, shot-gunning beer. Barb was the one alternately smiling indulgently and trying to advise caution.

Nancy was the one trying to uncover government secrets and conspiring with conspiracy theorists. Steve was the one thinking about insurance benefits and worrying about her drinking too much at stupid teenage parties.

Nancy was the one chasing down stories her bosses explicitly told her to stay away from. Jonathan was the one concerned about getting fired.

Nancy was always the wild friend, the friend who needed to be pulled back from the edge.

and then she met Robin.

#i don't super care for the scene where robin goes on a wild feminist monologue while they're undercover #EXCEPT that nancy gets to see somebody else willing to go as far as she will go!!! #robin doesn't hold her back! she doesn't want to!!! #robin DIVES INTO WATERGATE!! WITH her!!!!!!!!!!!! #robin hypes her up to eddie when he's doubtful about her gun possession! #they are such a natural duo and I adore them #yasss stranger things yassssss give me all the female friendships #stranger things s4 #cate liveblogs!

[literaticat]

Hello. Just wondering what you think of the current "Roald Dahl re-write" controversy.

Hahaha I have a lot of feelings. Some of them you probably won't like? IDK.

First of all, lemme just say, Roald D was an anti-Semitic asshole, a notoriously difficult and bad man, his books are mean-spirited and rankle me, I really don't give a fig about him or his books or his legacy, and I'd never give them to a child.

(I wouldn't stop a child from reading one if they wanted to, either! I wouldn't BAN them! It's fine with me that they EXIST and are readily available for anyone who wants to read them! I just personally would not spend my money to present a child with a copy of one of his books, I think there are better things to read that I'd rather gift.)

So if you were under a rock and you didn't hear this latest "outrage", evidently the Roald Dahl estate + the UK publisher decided to do an update to a bunch of his books removing some of the particularly egregious language around things like minorities, fat people, etc. Some of the coverage of this makes it sound like they removed vast swathes of text, essentially rewriting the books. Which would obviously be insane if true. But it's not true. The changes are, as the estate put it, "small and carefully considered." There might be hundreds in total, but if they are tweaks to words across dozens of books - that's really not very many?

Anyway lots of authors are decrying it as CENSORSHIP!!!!! In my opinion... that is a little dramatic. First of all - censorship would be if they redacted the language without the permission of the rights holder. That is not the case. The rights holder is very much on board here - presumably because they know that the language is old-fashioned at best and OFFENSIVE at worst, and they just signed a many-million dollar contract with Netflix! And I'm sure they would like people to NOT boycott those Netflix projects and continue to buy the books!

It would also be censorship if somebody rounded up all old copies and destroyed them, preventing people from ever experiencing the text as originally published. But that's not happening. There are literally MILLIONS of copies of these books in print. They are SO available we could all build houses out of them. Nobody is taking anything away here.

Additionally -- this happens ALL THE TIME. All! The! Time!!!! Mind you -- MOST books just go out of print and are forgotten. But books that are lucky enough to stay in print for decades are often updated / tweaked to reflect changing cultural mores, etc.

For examples: In the 1930's, Nancy Drew was 16 years old and carried a gun. In the 1950's, they realized that was not going over well anymore, so they changed all her stories to make her 18 with no gun.

In the 1970's, Margaret of ARE YOU THERE GOD fame wore a "sanitary belt" for her period. I read these books in the early 80's and was like "wtf???" -- well, in the late 80s, they changed it to pads.

Oh, and also, in early editions of CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY, the Oompa-Loompas were Black pygmies from a tribe in Africa! They changed them to orange fantasy creatures later, because guess what, people were weirded out about it.

While it's true that Roald D himself made/approved that change (presumably because somebody back in the day told him, "yo, you are going to get a LOT of money from Hollywood if you make this change" and he realized it was true) -- he's dead. If he were alive, he'd probably have the same convo, and people would say "yo, Netflix is giving you millions of dollars, apologize for the hatred you spewed and change some words or your deal is toast." -- And he'd have done it, just like he did the first time. Since he's dead, his heirs made that decision. Which they are fully allowed to do.

Most of the time, literary executors of author's estates are trying to do the most lucrative things for that estate; they have a fiduciary responsibility to do so. That being said - if you feel strongly that after your death your books must be frozen in amber and never changed a bit, never sold to Hollywood / adapted for stage or TV or film, never sold into foreign countries where words change in translation all the time -- then let your heirs / executors know that explicitly, they DO NOT have permission to agree to any of this. And the books will likely just go out of print, and sink into oblivion.

ETA: Are these changes really being done because of concern for children's "delicate" brains, or "cancel culture gone mad"? ... OR, is it a somewhat cynical cash-grab to ensure that a multi-million dollar Netflix deal doesn't go down the tubes? Probably the latter!

But also, that isn't censorship. Creators and their estates are allowed to grab cash if it is offered, and can change or not change things as they will. They are the rights holders.

--

ETA ETA: I also should have mentioned a similar case from a couple years back: In 2021, the Seuss estate elected to *stop* publishing certain titles that contained racial and ethnic stereotypes. (And also - those particular books were among his least popular and they were not losing anything by making that decision, they make a billion dollars off his other books, and actually that news made his books SKYROCKET in sales, but whatever). It would not surprise me AT ALL if this hand-wringing news actually causes a big spike in Dahl sales.

[strangerwheelerthings]

There sometimes seems to be such a divide in the Stranger Things Fandom in how people see Ronance. (All the characters, really, but this post is about Robin and Nancy specifically) There's the people who glance at them on the most superficial level and assume they understand them, usually by basing it on common tropes.

These are the people who assume that because Robin has anxiety and rambles that she must be the softer and more puppy-like character. They see her as the typical fun loving stereotype, the one who does no harm. Nancy is the stubborn one with the guns, therefore she's hard and girlboss central.

Then there are the people who pay attention to the characters and realize they are actually really complex characters that don't fall into one stereotype or another. These are the people who also see the sharpness and defensiveness in Robin's personality. Who see how quickwitted she is when not nervous, how observant and wary she can be. It takes her a lot longer to bond with and trust somebody, but once you're in, then you are in. They see the tender heart of Nancy, how much love she has to give with few outlets she feels safe to give it. She directs it towards her work and her purpose to help because she struggles with the idea of how to give it directly to people. They see her impulsivity and protectiveness alongside her stubborn inability to let things go.

#i am not assuming my understandings of the characters are the end all be all #please feel free to add on your interpretations #or additional insights into ronance #i want to grow in my love and understanding #However I did try to mention things that require more thought but are somewhat objectively shown in canon #if that makes sense #I know I keep commenting on similar things over and over again #but I feel like those are fundamental aspects of their personalities that are frequently overlooked #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #ronance

[suwunnysideup]

anyways, if the reblogs and tags didn’t clarify enough: this blog is fucking NOT a welcome space for billy stans.

he’s a fucking racist and abusive asshole of a man. yes he was abused, but that gives us the reason for his actions, it does not fucking excuse it. y’all do triple backflips through flaming hoops to defend this man while demonizing female characters (mainly nancy) for literally being teenagers. nancy called a relationship bullshit bc she was drunk and in agony over losing a friend and having everyone act like it never happened. she pointed a gun at steve to scare him off because a fucking demogorgon was coming and he didn’t know. she takes up arms to defend the kids from so many different threats while also dealing with her own fucking issues. billy threw lucas against a wall and threatened to break him just bc he was black and hanging around max. yes, he definitely could’ve used a support system like jonathan had, but he never fucking tried to make one. he and max could’ve tried to bond together under the abuse of neil. he could’ve talked to somebody - anybody - but he chose not to and instead lash out and take his rage out on anyone and everyone. did the narrative treat him weirdly? yes, i think so. but that doesn’t make him into this uwu soft boy y’all want him to be so desperately. like, this is the man who wanted to beat on kids and literally tried to bash steve’s face in with his fists. he intimidates and pushes around anyone he can, namely max and lucas. the duffer brothers and caleb confirmed his actions were racially motivated towards lucas. i’m not saying he deserved to die, nor am i ignoring the obvious trauma he went through, but i’m not using it to justify his actions and make excuses for his shitty behavior.

idc how y’all headcanon him but it’s fucking weird how much y’all wanna change about him to make him into ur sad boy of the month. anyways, rant fucking over with.

#sunny speaks #stranger things #anti billy hargrove #anti billy stans #billy hargrove #nancy wheeler #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #argue with the wall idc. #y’all r weird trying to make nancy into this ableist abuser when billy is literally right fucking there #high chance that if u come in my inbox i won’t answer bc y’all r so tiring sometimes #yes admittedly nancy calling steve bullshit hurt him but he was also!! not a great boyfriend!! #he wanted her to ignore and forget all her trauma to be normal teenagers and that’s a shitty thing to ask! #and with robin she was tired and just saw her friend be brutally killed while she couldn’t help (again) #and had to be paired off with someone who seemingly also didn’t believe her (again) #so ofc she’s gonna be short with robin. but it wasn’t bc she’s a fucking ableist #media literacy we’ve failed you #discourse

[sattlersquarry]

Hi! Can you do the prompt of: "patching them up" with Jonathan Byers, please.

Absolutely, anon! Happy Valentine's Day and thank you for the request! I've never actually written for Jonathan before, so this was a nice change of pace!

This is the final request for my Valentine's/500 follower event! I may open requests generally in the future, we'll see. 👀

Word Count: ~0.9k. Jonathan Byers x Reader, this takes place in Season 4. tw for mentions of guns/violence, bleeding, and language.

Jonathan tries not to show it, but he’s mad. 

Not at you. You hadn’t done anything, except come by the same day evil soldiers shot up the house. He’s mad at himself.

After him and Nancy’s amicable breakup, Jonathan wanted to keep his head down and not get involved with somebody new. But then he met you. 

And today, you’d gotten hurt because of him.   

“Is it still bleeding?” Jonathan says, voice and hands shaking as he digs through the glovebox of Argyle’s van. He’s searching for first-aid supplies, but all he’s found so far is weed paraphernalia and coupons for free cheesy bread with any pizza order $30 or more. 

You gingerly lift a hand off your hip. You wince and nod. 

“This is gonna leave a scar,” you grumble. “Right before swimsuit season, too. Just my luck.” 

Earlier that day, you visited the Byers’ house to check on your boyfriend Jonathan. He pulled you past some sketchy-looking government goons and quietly explained that he, his brother Will, and their friend Mike were going to break out of their “house arrest” to find his sister, Jane. You were very confused, but Jonathan refused to give more details. He ushered you toward the door, thanked you for coming by, and assured you everything was fine.

Two seconds later, an agent got shot in the abdomen by an evil soldier. Chaos ensued.

Another agent got shot, and Jonathan led your group out to Argyle’s waiting van. Hopped up on the adrenaline from getting shot at and seeing a man die in front of you, you didn’t even realize a bullet had grazed your side until you were halfway to the junkyard.

“You still with me?”

You snap your attention back to Jonathan. While you had been replaying the events of the day in your head, Jonathan had moved to sit next to you in the backseat. He now holds a first-aid kit. His face is peaked, brow furrowed and lips pulled in a tight, thin line. 

“I’m here,” you say weakly. 

“Roll your shirt up,” Jonathan says. You oblige. He pops open the kit and groans. 

“Geez, Argyle,” Jonathan grumbles.

The kit is barebones. It’s empty besides some alcohol wipes, Spider-Man bandaids, and a sticky note that says Argyle, don’t forget to buy more medicine shit! Peace, Argyle. 

“This will sting,” Jonathan says. “I’m sorry.”

You huff out a laugh. 

“Don’t apologize,” you say. “You’re not the one who shot at me, Jonny.” 

Jonathan used to hate the nickname Jonny. When you say it, it’s his favorite word. 

You wince and squirm as he dabs at the wound with the alcohol wipes. Jonathan mumbles out more apologies, eyes flicking from the bloodied mess on your hip to the pained look on your face.

“It’s fine, Jonny.”

You try not to think about the pain. You focus on watching Will, Mike, and Argyle through the open van doors. They dig a grave for the agent that got killed. You try not to remember how his face looked as he died. 

Once the wound is sufficiently cleaned, Jonathan considers the Spider-Man bandaids before eyeing an extra Surfer Boy Pizza shirt. He begins ripping the fabric into ribbons.

“Lift your arms, okay?” Jonathan says.

You do, and he wraps the garish yellow fabric around your abdomen. He ties it, tight enough to staunch the bleeding. 

“Good as new,” you say with a weak smile, pulling your shirt back down. 

Jonathan doesn’t return the gesture. He looks at his shaky, bloodstained hands, unable to look you in the eye. 

“I’m sorry,” he croaks. He clears his throat and, louder, adds, “This is all my fault.”

“What?” you say. “No. It isn’t.”

“Yes, it is!” he says. He runs a hand through his hair. “You’re hurt because you came to check on me.” 

“I’m hurt because I came to your house at a bad time,” you correct. You gently place a hand on his cheek. He leans into the touch and closes his eyes. “It’s not your fault, Jonny.” 

You’re too good, and Jonathan doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t want to drag you into his shit, but it’s too late for that now.

“I wish we could take you back home,” Jonathan says, “but it’s not safe. Those soldier guys are definitely looking for us, and as much as I want to support the Surfer Boy lifestyle, we’re not exactly inconspicuous in this van.”

“The yellow paint must be visible from space,” you say. “Airports should use these bad boys to land planes.” 

Despite the circumstances, Jonathan laughs. You always know how to make him laugh.

“You aren’t wrong,” he says, smiling for the first time since the shootout. It’s small, but it’s something, and it ebbs away some of the pain in your side. 

It fades, and he sucks in a shuddery breath. You can tell he’s gearing up for something big. You reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers together. 

“Listen, I really like you, and I really like being your boyfriend. But I haven’t been honest about my family and my past…”

And so he tells you everything. It’s a strange story, but you listen intently without interruptions.

When Jonathan gets to the end of the story—explaining that they have no clue where Jane/El is being held—you squeeze his hand for reassurance.

“We’ll find her,” you say. “We’ll all work together, and we’ll bring her home.” 

Your tenacity, your willingness to help despite the danger, the way you’re looking at him like you truly see him—it floods Jonathan with a warmth he hasn’t felt in a while. He leans in to kiss you, until—

“Uh, brochachos? Do either of you have a pen? This one doesn’t work.” 

#jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x gn!reader #jonathan byers fanfic #libby's valentine a palooza

[jjkyaoi]

actually im making a headcanons posts abt my ideas for a potential nancy and eddie best friends relationship because yes i’m fucking annoying 😊😊😊 but they’re both individually my favorites out of the older kids so i think they should kick their feet together

• they bond over steve. to no one’s surprise, because nancy’s cool and amazing and scarily observant so she’s aware that eddie has a thing for him, even when they’re in the upside down. she knows the pathetic little goo goo eyes from a mile away, and because it’s steve harrington and she was with him she feels comfortable sliding up to him while they’re walking along the endless maze of dark bullshit that is the upside down and being like, “i know you’re into my ex boyfriend. 😊” and eddie bites his tongue so hard he starts coughing

• mind you, nancy’s completely aware that she’s into robin, because she’s cool like that, so she just kind of raises her eyebrow to him and pointedly makes a gesture to robin, who’s trying to make steve skip between the vines with her, and is like. “it’s fine. irdgaf 🤷‍♀️ “ and eddie feels the air leave his lungs in such a strong burst that he almost falls over with it

• they become close immediately after it. eddie latches onto the anomaly that’s nancy wheeler because he thinks it’s fucking insane that she dresses like a grandma and is a part of the school paper yet keeps guns in her bedroom and is apparently, for some fucking reason, a legitimate monster hunter. nancy’s never really had somebody be so interested in her completely without, dragging somebody else into it, so she’s kind of like ok be serious for a second ‘cause she thinks he’s fucking with her. but he’s not, and then she latches onto him with the same ferocity

• when eddie makes it out post volume two, nancy keeps him in their basement like they did with el. dustin whines and complains about it but she grips him by the shoulders and gives him the famous nancy wheeler 😊 threat so he (begrudgingly) let’s eddie go. nancy makes a whole fucking pillow fort for him down there, and constantly sneaks down some parts of her dinner, and comes downstairs sometimes just to sit and talk with him and eddie has also, never had somebody who’s wholeheartedly interested in his company so he just kind of sits there. and is goofy about it

eddie: nancy, i don’t need all of this pillows—little bit fucking concerned about how many damn pillows you have in the first place??? and jealous. extremely envious and bitter

nancy: shut up.

eddie: ok!

nancy: you’re right, though, i don’t need all these, because i’m sleeping in my room while you’re down here on the cold floor without anyones company, so you’re going to shut up and take these and you aren’t going to make a quip and/or comment about it for the rest of the night.

eddie: you are the coolest person i’ve ever met

• it weirds mike out, how much they get along, because his stuck up sister shouldn’t be painting eddie-stick-it-to-the-man’s nails whenever he walks downstairs, and he shouldn’t be catching nancy wearing one of his bands shirts and she shouldn’t say, “oh, hm? eddie let me borrow it” when he asks because that’s—not something frilly skirts nancy wheeler does. but she does now, apparently, and it weirds the fuck out of him.

• eddie loves to imprint on the people he cares for, physically, so he’s like consistently hanging off of her. he tugs on her hair whenever he wants her attention he taps her on the shoulder along with the beat when a song he likes get a drum solo, ruffles her hair frequently and it makes her brain white out with older-sibling-has never been shown-affection syndrome, and it’s just really.

robin: okay, nance, i have to—i’m sorry, i don’t mean to harsh your vibe or whatever but what is eddie doing. genuinely. what is he doing.

eddie, sprawled across nancy’s legs and repeatedly poking her in the face and pinching her cheek for no reason:

nancy: he does this.

• nancy’s like, 80 percent of his impulse control but if he were to start a bar fight he would chicken out of it when it got physical and nancy would finish it for him.

• they’re the 😊 and 😒 dynamic but like, platonically

• everyone in their group is so convinced they’re dating becaus e of their general. everything, and dustin tries to breach this topic while he’s over at the wheeler’s once and eddie snorts milk through his nose

dustin: i mean, i’m just saying, it’s cool that you’re together and i’m happy for you, but it’s—the whole thing with jonathan and steve dude it’s fucked and i-

eddie, trying to tell him he’s queer without telling him he’s queer: dustin, the boyest guy ever, there is no chance i would ever get with nancy wheeler . ever

dustin; …okay, i’m a little bit fucking offended on nancy’s behalf, now-

eddie; dustin henderson

• nancy doesn’t like to get intoxicated because she likes having a clear mind and considering. what happened the one time she didn’t, it isn’t something she feels comfortable doing most of the time However eddie pesters her to get high with him for approximately 3 whole days straight like a fucking insane person until she’s like OKAY. jesus. calm down. weirdo

mike, coming downstairs to see them blasted out of their minds: eddie 😕 can you stop corrupting my sister please i’m tired of people saying she’s cool now

nancy, before losing her fucking mind in laughter; i’ve always been fucking coolBitch

• nancy tries her damn hardest to infect some of her style into eddie’s life because she frequently takes his shirts, but he grabs her by the face looks at her calmly and says nancy wheeler i would fucking die for you but i also will shoot you with your own guns if you ever make me put on those 67 year old woman skirts

• eddie’s a very clumsy person. he doesn’t mean to, most of the time, but he’s always kind of bringing disaster wherever he goes and nancy’s always kind of picking up for him. like they’re walking along the street and eddie’s not looking where he’s going and there’s a crack in the floor and nancy grabs him by the hand and yanks him away. she has a sixth sense for his bullshit now it’s like her spidey tingle he says

nancy; you’re about to spill that drink everywhere

eddie: could you stop examining my behavior

nancy: could you stop breaking thinsg in My house that i let you in

• eddie’s totally the type of friend that just decides to randomly start moving when an adrenaline rush hits him for no reason. like they’ll be listening to music in nancy’s basement and he’ll suddenly be grabbing her and begging her to dance with him even though the Most he can do is that dumb little sway and she is so. incredibly fond that she just shakes her head and says OKAY.

eddie; do you think steve’s gay? like… did you ever see anything …..a little bit… you know…

nancy, in the middle of painting his nails; if you’re asking me if i think he’s into you then i can’t say, because he hasn’t looked at me in the eyes since the “i want to have kids with you” debacle, however i can say that yes he does like men. in general.

eddie: holy shit. are you like 100% sure?

nancy: i mean, at least i think so. again. he hasn’t looked at me, eds, but you spend enough time with a person like steve and you notice things and trust me i have

eddie: you are my best friend & the light of my life

nancy: i know. mess up this nail job again by moving and i’ll hurt you.

• nancy’s a little bit of a worrywart. not as much as steve is, it’s just in the way where she’s lost a lot of people when she’s let them become her friends so she’s always kind of hovering. always kind of watches what she says so she doesn’t hurt someone like she did barb the last time she saw her, and it takes her awhile to sort of break out of that mindset but. she does. eventually

eddie: would you ever move in with me?

nancy: no. absolutely not.

eddie: oh, c’mon wheeler, i thought i’d finally broken your icy little shell of a heart-

nancy: not giving that a response. i’m not living with you because you had unnamed stains on your bed for months, and you keep me up with questions like “are worms real” at 3AM when i choose to stay down in this basement with you, so no i’m not.

eddie: fair enough

• sunshine and sunshine protector perhaps?

• they totally would be the type to talk shit. like nancy stomps down to her basement after somebody pisses her off at school and eddie sits up because he knows it’s going to be a good one, and eddie tells her all the drama because when you’re the renowned freak people don’t really care about letting you hear things, and they’re 100% catty little bitches.

nancy: ok, i didn’t want to be that person—

eddie, immediately invested; oh is it bitching hours? are we- are we bitching?

nancy; you shut up. i’m not—okay. listen. tammy thompson’s a wonderful person, and i think she’s got a bright future and she’s a sweetheart, but she. her singing

eddie: she sounds so bad . she is so tone deaf

nancy: SHE SOUNDS SO BAD oh god i’m sorry

• nancy is the only one who can reign him in when he’s on his bullshit. he’s being particularly loud and everyone’s like GODDDD eddie shut up ☹️ and nancy just looks at him. and he wilts like an unwatered flower and lowers his volume and she’s like thank you 😊😊

#anyways they’re my favorites and their nonexistent friendship #is the only thing keeping me from jumping off this edge #thank you i’ll be here all night #nancy wheeler #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #mike wheeler #steddie #ronance #stranger things volume two #steve harrington #headcanons

[leopoldainter]

Claire Danes bitch why won't you die!

Ah. I thought you sent her.

He said did that.

I

Who

Your, uncle

That's, he's a family friend ... just let her sweat it out.

I want her out of my life.

Think about the tingtings

For the level Head!

Thanks, o

Well I guess if your uncles driving I might as well strap my self to ... actually I can fly that one.

Nice, it's a senna.

O for fuck sakes.

I've cats do this in mirrors before. Did we really need a third movie.

Your unlce wants to know if you do or don't want to see some of the post apocalyptic version..

Maybe, how's the music

Hes fucking her in the washroom.

I think she's just testing the faucets. She's basically bender. But with some static electricity your in a snow globe didn't you know that

John, your a drop out I found in a cage.

How close to the glass did you get when you came by, your mixing me up with hercule

Yeah you wish

Can someone please check to see if Dyson is dead or not.

I'll do it out of my next!

Oh alright all the dundee de didi

Ladies and Gentlemen,

The moment you've all been waiting for.

DMV

ITSA REST VIKT DEVE LOPY

L.A. ; bu then even though she didn't say it. Honest you some how right before you speak hear hollywoo

Moral I thinkdan guns don't do much these days

Are you calling somebody over or did you still want a machiato

Machiato, I make faces it's nothing.

This is fucked, that's politics for ya

Nancy boy Inc. Let's go nana

Fuck I am right. I'll need some hair dye and some bleach Holyoke jeesi I just can't decide between the tutu and the steloto

I don't

Haha. Ask the pilot

She made a lot of people feel like they needed to become paralegals nice pin stripe CC

Thanks but after the whole oj thing I felt it would be appreciated to go with the jenny Craig crowd but after nine eleven nothing was ever the same.

I saw that to he took a bullet to the chest, says but hey pretty boy I tender golfers, poorly.

He's unionized

They all are

....

Now listen to what he says when he exits the vehicle

I should have stayed on the bench. The FRENCH!

Would you take our picture please.

EarlyAdmission for the winner

And then

Out of nowhere

Cuz she's just been begging for it

Nancy fucks Andy in someone's front lawn. GooNero!

I forget that I already had that by mistake, fucking kids am I right

About a whole while back.

There was a new world to reach by vessel and th

.

.

An Implosion ooooAhh

Who cares

Hindi accent no fwce

That one looks like saturn

Lac leamy casino, turn around to find a hill across the river you crossed to get here to find a nice place to lay blanket and listen to anthems of rebellion album by arch enemy.

Wow! Yeah, they are not Canadian

Hordes of politicians enter.

It's one of those things.

If you found out about the fire works competition from inside, past the sign with the Bienvenue and snuggles on each sidFleecye then you probably paid admission to sit on your own blanket outside in my backyardg

Ghoise an lil juennes. Podticandeiparade

Or, you were polite and have some poket change now that you can't waste the time on church And the simpsons And family guy And american dad And bobs burgers And 60 minutes, but I still prefer to have at least the cigaret buts back, you can use them to kill birds or carefully irrivape nesting with cancerous carcinogens

Yikes, just ignore him he's honestly the worse liar

This lcbo doesn't sell alcohol

No it's a regular office

No way

We do have wifi

I know that

Ok

Please leave it's a weekend go, weed a garden or something

We're getting gas.

Not at this corner.

Are you asking me to take a breath mint.

She runs away, but with one of my bags.

I'm filming!

Oh BTW where's stone henge

...

You bitch

I did say

But then things changed cuz things tanged! Don't believe don't think about. I'm pretending like someone I wouldn't believe, for your viewing pleasure

I think the rule is, it's not funny if you have to explain it.

Dangrubbish from the getgo

Give them some money then they'll leave.

Sirens?

No it's alert, the most northern of all the point of Nunavut.

I can hear them

Sh sh let's watch one where the finish with somethi g cool like homer drunk complaining about rich people.

Ya Yue shush me I'll sushi ya i ll shu Hey I know her. I'll sush yeah wanna sushi lill sushit I swhitxhMuizimk. True but portal ahhh now I'm laughing give it a second, she's saying to a woman the she's worried to upset the man who paid for all that jewelry. That's not stoner it's lesbian were at the wrong theate

It's broadway

Just some gyn

Gym

Gymn

Hug

Uh. No

.

.

I came to the bathroom to do this

First tell me.

Ok Beth and Rob totaly had sex but it was a goi g away presenf

How does lily already know

Ohhh the Korean card counter on the couch. Ok one second ^^claps and relaxes and says

You shut the door in his face, he should know that means lily can never Ever know.

Ok, couldn't Travis have died.

No because he walked her back to her place e

WHAT

Good luck Travis...

Hmmm

Fishing fire

O sorry I'm still not sure if the news is talking about the river or me,

Why wouldnt I tell you

Jason, you took him from the ss

He was airRaid

Never mind we will go to the roof but after that for the rest of the night I have to pretend not to be having the time of my life.

And that's why he dies on the bridge

Wow lily the shot really came out to

I got all them up to r.

Yay

Go lily

Last time you see her Rebudign.

ChugaIthinkI canChugaIthink I did

Peace out

Boo b

B2

?d

Show me where there's room in a Sunday night line up then we'll talk.

Oh Keri Russell fxx yeah

O shit. Your out lay down.

I at least get paid for this. No way he's got a sac in that trunk.

Isn't that making a joke

#Youtube

[noretreatnancy]

I saw somebody give the cold cold take that Nancy is too much of a “femme fatale” stereotype because her “only traits” are that “everybody wants to date her” and she happens to be good with a gun. and like that’s such a shallow mean spirited read of her character imo. is it frustrating that her relationship status is used as a drama plot in every season? of course! but like she’s allowed to have teen relationship melodrama and still be a nuanced character…. El is! every season after season 1 involves the major subplot of Mike and El’s relationship drama, and there’s literally nothing wrong with that. it doesn’t reduce the importance of El as a character, or somehow nullify her development/character arcs/struggles/growth. Nancy is a main character and has been since season one. she has conflicts (internal and external) she makes mistakes, grows, and changes over the course of the story. She’s not a side character crammed in to look pretty, or a fan service character who serves no purpose in the greater plot (unlike some other character I could mention). just because you see her as an extension of Steve’s character (or Jonathan’s) doesn’t mean she is poorly written or that the writers are using her as a drama prop… it just means you’re not very good at interpreting media ://

#some of you bitches are very dumb. I could say more but #stranger things #nancy wheeler #stan nancy wheeler forever and ever amen

[the-silver-chronicles]

Does anyone have any ideas on how to write in f***ing Nancy's POV?

[Context: Nancy is the Hope County Sheriff's Department's dispatcher, who sells her colleagues out to Eden's Gate (having been a member of the cult) and told journalists (in a newspaper) that reports of conflict between the locals and cultists were "exaggerated"]

I'm writing a Far Cry 5 fic, sometime pre-game events, at the Sheriff's Department itself, and I'm writing from Nancy's POV, where she has a harrowing encounter with Inquisitor!Silva in a little (kind of) non-canon AU (kind of) separate from my main AUs.

Anyway, I have the main ideas that I know Nancy should have in her POV, but I could use a bit of help on how to properly carry this out, and if anyone has any idea of Nancy, or even how they write her or help me write from her POV, that would be greatly appreciated.

The main points her POV should have so far are:

Feels pity towards her colleagues for not seeing Joseph's Word as true, but hopes they'll see it soon.

Internally praises "the Father".

Observant enough to notice when someone is "off" or deceiving her (given she is a mole and has worked for the Sheriff's Department for some time now).

Might direct complete strangers towards Eden's Gate?

Would she able to be coerced (have her life under threat from a gun being pointed at her) into giving police files on the Seeds to this strange woman who just attempted to pass of as a special agent or would she rather die than give any information on the Seed Family to an unknown (probable) enemy? Given she's a mole for Eden's Gate, would she give the files to keep undercover and stave off suspicion or would she risk her life and her mission to not betray the Seeds, causing Eden's Gate to have to send somebody else to replace her (if she was killed)?

#far cry 5 #far cry 5 fanfiction #nancy #oc: silva omar #inquisitor!silva #far cry 5 help #far cry 5 questions #fanfic help

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Somebody to Love | Steddie (4/?)

Chapter Four: Closure and Crushes

Word: 1505

A/N: Mostly platonic Steve and Nancy conversing. Steve accidentally comes out to her. Eddie is only mentioned in this chapter.

Summary: Eddie's part of the gang now and he's learning quickly what that means exactly. Meanwhile, Steve has finally come to terms of what he feels for a certain super senior and the gremlins that they both look after unwittingly gives the nudge that Steve needed to confront him.

[Somebody to Love Masterlist]

-

Life used to be so simple. Follow the crowd, be an asshole to feel better about yourself, get a sports scholarship, get into college, then graduate and follow in his father’s footsteps. Everything was about pleasing other people. Once he had set his sights on Nancy Wheeler, well, it messed with the status quo. She was considered a princess, a goody two-shoes, with perfect grades and perfect attendance. Totally not someone that the cool kids would want rolling with them.

While she tried to change herself to fit into his crowd, he found himself thinking of ways he could fit into her world. He was convinced that she was it for him. He went as far as imagining a future with her, a picture perfect large family filled with warmth and happiness and comfort. Thinking back on it now, he was forcing the image of Nancy in an idea that compensated for his stifling lonely and cold childhood, and that wasn’t fair to her. He was trying to fit into his version of what he imagined her world was and it was way off base.

Seeing Nancy finding her confident self, there was no way that she would be happy with that future. It was something that had stuck with him for a while and he just had to tell her. When he did, it felt like a weight was lifted from his shoulders, like he was finally leaving the past lingering feelings behind him. 

They finally sat down and talked when the dust settled and she was happy with how much he had grown. During one recent conversation, she expressed her hopes that he would be able to figure things out and find his own happiness. If he was still hung up on her, it would have left him feeling bitter, knowing that that happiness wouldn’t be her, but he was fine. His friends are his happiness right now and he told her as much. Besides, when he thought of his happiness, he also had someone else in mind.

“Remember, try not to deprive yourself of happiness just because you think you don’t deserve it,” she said as if reading his mind.

“That’s oddly specific,” Steve pointed out, narrowing his eyes at her.

She managed to look sheepish and smug at the same time. “It was something that Jonathan noticed for a while,” she admitted.

Steve rolled his eyes. “You know, I think those Byers have some kind of superpower. That, or we’re just raised by emotionally distant parents.”

“I think both.” She smiled. “It’s definitely easier and harder when he can read me so well. I just… feel so vulnerable yet so safe around him and he doesn’t take advantage of it. He… sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about all this.”

“You’re right. If you keep going, I think I’m going to start falling for him and steal him from you,” Steve said with a teasing smirk.

Nancy punched his arm lightly. “I’ve got a gun, Harrington. There’s no way you’re getting anywhere near him.”

He clutched his arm dramatically, like she broke it with a hard swing, making her giggle. It reminded him of how lighthearted things were between them. He felt like his age again and not someone that was forced to grow up too quickly.

“Like that’s going to deter me from my quest for love.” Oh, god, he was starting to talk like that shrimp, Dustin. He kept on going anyway. “ After that first punch that Jonathan gave me, I don’t know, it was doing something for me. Then, you with that gun and Eddie with that broken… bottle...” 

His eyes widened when his brain caught up to what his mouth had just admitted. Maybe she didn’t notice? Thank god her parents weren’t home yet. He didn’t know how he expected Nancy to react, but it wasn’t her knocking the wind out of his lungs as she hugged him with a wide smile. 

He hugged her back, breathing out a sigh of relief. She was okay with this, whatever it was. He didn’t have a definite label for himself and Robin assured him that he didn’t have to rush to figure it out. It was enough to know and be accepting of what he was feeling, that they were valid.

She pulled away, her small hands still on his arms. “How long have you known?”

He shrugged. “I think it’s been a long time, but I didn’t know what it was back then. I didn’t know that it was okay and, yeah, I guess now that I’ve got friends who actually like me for me, I feel more comfortable about it. But, I really did love you back then. All of that was true! I mean, I still love you, but not in the same way.”

“I believe you,” Nancy assured him, then smirked, “So… Eddie, huh?”

Steve groaned. He rolled his head back before dropping his head with a sigh. She could see that even his ears were tinted red. He didn’t anticipate him discussing his apparent new crush on a certain metalhead with his ex. Robin knew about it before he did and she was going to scream “Finally!” once he tells her. Calling it a crush made it feel more real and it made him giddy. 

He made a show of checking his watch before backing up to his car.  “Oh, look at the time. I gotta go and, um, pick up the children.”

“Mike’s literally in the car waiting for you with Dustin to drive them to Lucas’s,” she said as she crossed her arms. Curse her and her sharp attention to details.

“Yes, I have to do that. You know how cranky they can get. Bye! See you saturday!”

Nancy shook her head fondly at him as he fled to the car. Steve ignored Mike’s complaints as he started up the car, reversing quickly out of the Wheelers’ driveway. Once they were on the road, he drowned Mike’s voice out by turning on his radio. 

The heavy guitar riffs flooding out of his speakers made the younger boy shut up and the two kids exchanged a look. Since when did Steve Harrington listen to heavy metal? Well, since Eddie Munson gave him a couple of tapes to “improve his taste of music” on the same day as the party. They weren’t bad and the tapes that he gave Steve all reminded him of Eddie.

Dustin cleared his throat after they finished their quick stop for snacks at the store. “So, Steven -”

“Never call me that, Dusty bun.”

“Steve,” he quickly corrected himself, “Have you spoken to Eddie about using your place for DnD?”

Steve shrugged. “I thought you guys did that. I know some of the guys in the club detest me because of my douchebag era.”

Dustin waved that off. “Jeff and Frank are moving away once they graduate. Their parents weren’t so happy about them hanging out with Eddie because of that whole witch hunt against the Hellfire Club thing and they’ve been trying to sneak in band practice, but even that was pushing it. Gareth is a little more chill about it, but he’s going to wait it out until his parents cool down.”

“Eddie thinks it’s weird that you’re offering to host our campaign in your mansion,” Mike said bluntly.

“I think you should speak to him yourself about it. He’s been focused so much on graduating that we haven’t been able to talk to him or have a proper DnD session in ages. He doesn’t even spend time in the cafeteria anymore.”

“Yeah, he’s actually in the library or something with Robin or my sister.”

“Guys,” Steve said, pulling up to the Sinclair house, “We’ve got plenty of time to talk about it. Graduation is, like, two weeks away.”

“Talk to him now!”

Dustin sighed, speaking more calmly than Mike. “Can you at least check on him?”

“Okay, buddy.” He rubbed Dustin’s cap covered hair before bopping him. “Now scram!”

He waited until they scrambled into the house before he started pulling out of the driveway, heading straight for Eddie’s house. He hadn’t been to his place since the party, only seeing Eddie when he’d stop by Family Video or when he’s giving the kids a ride to and from school. Steve would nod and wave while Eddie forced a big smile on his face as he waved back. 

Steve couldn’t figure out why Eddie was acting weird like that all of a sudden and it left him wondering if he had done something back at the party to cause this distance. Or maybe it’s because now that he was closer to Nancy and Robin, there wasn’t anything else connecting them besides their mutual friends. Whatever it was, Steve would have to be the one to approach first. He’s only doing this for the boys, of course. Not that he missed Eddie or anything.

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steveddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #steddie fic #platonic steve and nancy

[allthingsfangirl101]

EST–Chapter 24: Mom and Dad Are In Trouble

Masterlist

"One? One, wake up."

"Steve?" She mumbled.

"I'm here," he said instantly.

Her heart started beating quickly as she looked around the dirty almost empty room. Something about this place felt. . . familiar.

"Where are we?" She stuttered.

"I don't know," Steve sighed. "The last thing I remember was trying to fight off those guys. What language were they speaking?"

"Russian."

"Did you understand them?"

"Let's just say, since I was forced to leave the lab, I've had a lot of time on my hands."

"And you decided to learn Russian?" Steve chuckled.

"Russian, Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, a little Calculus," she listed off. "Amongst other things."

"That's kind of cool," Steve hummed. He looked over his shoulder to see One's head down. She took a shaky breath, trying to calm herself down.

"What are we going to do?" One asked under her breath.

"The kids probably know we're missing by now," he shrugged.

"Steve, they're teenagers."

"So? They know we had the late shift at the mall. They'll notice when we don't make it home or to the diner. They'll figure it out and they'll find us."

"Great," One scoffed. "We're leaving our fate to a group of teenagers."

"Don't underestimate them," Steve chuckled. "When those kids set their minds to something, they don't give up."

                                * * * * *

"You still awake?" One whispered.

"Yep," Steve sighed.

"What are we going to do? Why hasn't anyone come by? What do they want?"

Steve's heart sank when he heard the defeat in One's voice. He stretched his hand until he found One's. She took a shaky breath as he intertwined their fingers. It was awkward the way they were holding hands, but it was oddly comforting for both of them.

"We're going to be okay," he said gently. "We'll find a way out of here."

"How do you know?"

"I just do," he answered almost immediately.

"Steve," she said, her voice breaking.

"Hey," he said instantly. "You're going to be okay. I promise. We're going to get out of here."

"But. . ."

"I won't let anything happen to you."

"This is my fault," she whispered.

"What?" Steve asked as he sat up straighter. "This isn't your fault."

"When those men broke into the mall and grabbed us," she said, her voice breaking, "they were there for me."

"One, this isn't. . ."

"It is!" She cut him off. "Это ее. Захватить ее. That's Russian for 'That's her. Grab her.' See? They were there for me. The only reason they grabbed you was because you were trying to stop them. You were protecting me and it got you kidnapped. If I hadn't come to the ice cream shop after work, you wouldn't have been put at risk, and they wouldn't have had to take you too."

"Hey," Steve cut her off. "I'm glad they took me."

"But. . ."

"No," he said gently. "I'm going to protect you. I promise."

                                * * * * *

"Have you ever been in love?"

Steve was shocked by One's question, but he instantly knew his answer.

"Yup," he sighed. "Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year."

Steve laughed but One didn't when he made the sound of a gun going off.

"Oh," she whispered. "No offense, but she seems like. . . A priss."

"Turns out, not really."

One cleared her throat before asking, "Are you still in love with Nancy?"

"No," he said quickly.

"Why not?"

"I think it's because I found someone a little bit better for me." He laughed and she could almost picture his smile. "It's crazy. This girl, the one that I like, it's somebody that I don't think she would even notice me if we had gone to school together. I don't even know why. Maybe because Tommy H would have made fun of me. Or I wouldn't be prom king. It's stupid. Because when I think about it, I should have been hanging out with this girl the whole time."

"Tommy H?"

"Just some guy I went to school with," Steve shrugged. He smirked when he remembered who her first interaction was with in Hawkins. "And he's the guy who hit on you when you were waiting for El outside the school when you first got here."

"You were there?" One asked with a small stutter.

"I was," he chuckled. He laughed harder when he remembered One's and Tommy's conversation. "You were ruthless."

"He deserved it," she shrugged. They paused for a second before both started laughing. Once they stopped laughing, One paused.

"And the girl?" She asked hesitantly.

He cleared his throat before continuing, "First of all, she's hilarious. She's so funny. I feel like this summer, I have laughed harder than I have laughed in a really long time. And she's smart. Way smarter than me. She's. . . She's incredible."

He paused. Right as One was going to apologize for asking something too personal, Steve continued.

"You want to know something else?" He said, his voice soft. "She is incredibly strong. Not just physically, but mentally. I've seen some crazy shit in my life, but nothing compared to what she's been through. And you know, she's honestly unlike anyone I have ever met."

One was shocked. Her mind was running in circles as she connected the dots.

Steve glanced over his shoulder, wishing he could see the look on her face.

"One?" He whispered. "You still awake?"

"Yeah," she said softly. She tried to think of something to say but was a little worried that she'd come off sounding stupid.

"One follow-up question," she said finally breaking the silence.

"Shoot."

"You were prom king?"

The two started laughing again. As they started to calm down, One leaned her head back against Steve. They finally stopped laughing as Steve leaned back against her.

"The girl sounds too good to be true," One said under her breath.

"Seems like it," Steve chuckled, "but she is."

Steve stretched his hand until he found One's hand. This time, she was the one to intertwine their fingers.

"You really think we're going to make it out of here?" One asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"I'll make sure of it."

                                * * * * *

Dustin ran down the stairs, anxiously trying to find his friends.

"Guys!" He yelled, making them jump. "We have a problem."

"Bigger than you scaring the crap out of us?" Lucas laughed.

"Steve and One never made it home from work."

"What?" Eleven gasped.

"What do you mean?" Mike asked Dustin.

"They're gone."

#EST #Even Stranger Things #stranger things #steve harrington #joe keery #original content

[hargrove-mayfields]

Just a Dream Away

Chapter 2/13 read here on ao3!

for the @harringrovebigbang!

~~~~

The news isn’t any easier to stomach after a whole night to think.

It was hard enough for Steve to cope with this decision on his own, but calling Susan on the phone and asking what she thought about pulling the plug on her stepson was next to impossible. Maybe it was just actually saying it out loud for the first time that made it so hard for him, but he was barely able to get the words out.

“Hello?” Susan sounds confused about getting a call so early on a Sunday morning.

“I need to ask you something.” Steve says quickly. Susan waits on the other end, but the words just won’t come out of his mouth. Steve is thankful she's at least more patient than her husband. “The doctors all think- and I wanted to ask you first even though I’m his representative- they think Billys not doing too good and that we should do some thinking about this but, you know he’s just been in there so long and-“

“I understand, Steve.” She isn’t going to make him say it, the words that had been tumbling around somewhere in his head since the very beginning, and he is thankful for it. “I think, if it’s time to let him go, I support that decision.”

“What about Neil?”

“This is not his choice to make.” Susan sighs, and says simply. She had seen the worst of Neils abuse and knew that, even though things weren’t always so bad, Billy wouldn’t want his dad to have any say in a decision this important had he been able to express his wishes. “You do what’s best for Billy.”

Steve thanks her and hangs up before he could break, her words threatening to ruin the promise he’d made to himself to stay strong. He repeated it over and over in his head that he was doing the right thing and there was no reason to cry or be sad.

He hadn’t caught a wink of sleep, something he was more than used to by now, but last night was especially hard on him. It had set in that he was going to do something impossible, the guilt and the heartbreak washing over him until he just had to give up on sleeping entirely. It felt like he was rushing Billy's death, no matter how much thought had actually gone into this choice of how much time into trying to save him, it would always feel like a spur of the moment decision.

But six long months don’t count as sudden. The countless nights and days dragging on as Billy only got sicker and sicker don’t count as out of nowhere. He’d been suffering and Steve knew that the whole time, he was just too scared to make the call that was sitting heavy in the back of his thoughts the entire time.

Billy was a healthy eighteen year old boy. If he wasn’t already gone, he would have woken up by now, or at least improved in the slightest. All signs pointed to him having given up the fight, or encountered some unseen obstacle keeping him unconscious. Either way, Steve has come to rationalize that it's not right to keep him around, suffering just so he could die later.

Because if he was really being honest with himself, there was zero chance of him recovering anymore, not a small chance or an unlikely one, but none at all, at least not fully enough that he’d ever be healthy or truly conscious or himself ever again, so this was for the best. Goddamn was that so much easier to say than to actually go through with though.

Steve could spend the rest of his life telling himself it was right, but he was going to meet Max and Susan at the hospital, and Billy was going to die. The boy he had fallen more in love with than he had ever been before, the boy he’d even promised himself to each with a ring they’d stolen from their mothers, was going to die.

Driving to the hospital the day before had felt bad enough, but today is worse.

Maybe one day he’d be able to see these last six months Billy spent in the hospital as a blessing, his second chance to get the closure he needed, to let Billy go peacefully instead of on the dirty floor of the ruined mall, but for now, he just felt miserable. Like all he’d done was extend his pain just to kill him anyways.

Pulling into the parking lot, he sees Neil’s truck and Nancy’s car. They were already out of their cars and waiting for Steve, Max hiding her tear stained face in her mother’s coat, and Nancy politely listening to something Susan was saying. She was only here to drop off Eleven, who had been back in Hawkins to visit Dustin on his birthday and wanted to come, and Lucas, who promised Max he’d be there to support her, no matter what he thought of her brother. What surprised them all though, was that Neil had showed up too.

He’s stood away from everyone else, arms crossed tight over his chest and a stone cold look on his face. Steve locks eyes with him through the windshield, and he can see something regret clear in Neils eyes. Maybe it was denial that things would ever get this bad that made him so insistent to not have anything to do with his son while he was sick, the idea that he’d come home someday and he could antagonize him then, but that wasn’t the reality of the situation, and perhaps that is exactly what brought him out today. Steve doesn’t feel bad for him either way.

As he kills his engine and gets out, Susan and Nancy shoot him an identical sympathetic look before the latter scampers back to her own car, wanting nothing to do with this situation. Nobody trusted Steve to drive their kids around anymore, and everybody else was busy but Nancy, so she had to drive the kids. Steve’s not sure if it’s the guilt from aiming a gun at Billy and pulling the trigger without remorse or if she still hated his guts as much as she did in high school, but again, Steve doesn’t care.

Nobody matters to him but Billy today.

The opposite wasn’t true, they were in return worried about Steve. Only a few nurses under a vow of silence and Heather who’d died with the secret ever knew about what he and Billy had, but everyone still understood how close they were, and knew that, other than Max of course, he’d be taking this the hardest.

They let him lead the way, but before they could go into room B-216, Susan stopped him with a delicate hand on his shoulder. “I don’t think I should be in there.”

“I think it’s better if you are.” Steve says, taking in a shaky deep breath, feeling strange comforting Susan of all people. “I don’t want him to be alone.”

A sob from Max echoes through the empty hallway, and that’s what does it for Susan, seeing that her daughter needed her support in there. She nods with a ghastly look on her face, and steps aside to let Steve enter the room first.

Instead of the chair where he usually sat, he sat on the side of Billy’s bed, and Max followed his lead to sit on the other. Eleven took the chair, Lucas sidled up behind Max, and Susan drifted to the corner by the window. Neil stood at the door with his arms still crossed, ever imposing. Steve just ignored his presence entirely.

A nurse had followed them into the room as well, stopping at the door with her little clipboard to say, “Whenever y’all are ready.”

They wouldn’t be ready for six more hours.

To Steve, that time feels almost more torturous than even Starcourt, than helplessly watching from across the room as Billy collapsed to the floor, because this time, he knew what was going to happen. That little gleam of hope he’d gotten when Max screamed that Billy was still breathing was not there this time. He still wasn't ready for what was going to happen now, but he supposes in a way, he should be grateful that it wasn’t the same, and he’ll have the chance to say goodbye.

Steve couldn’t speak for everyone, but he also used the time to think. About Billy, and who he had been, how much he had meant to Steve and the things he wanted in life. About all the things that led them to this moment, and everything that would come after.

It was mostly silent in the room, everyone just a little bit in shock, most of them crying at least once. But Steve swore up and down he was going to keep his composure, he would not let those kids, or his Billy, see him crack.

They make it especially hard to keep that promise though, knowing that Max was mad at him and that Lucas, who he’d never seen be anything other than headstrong and brave, even has a tear on his cheek, and when El is shaking and holding back sobs and Billy is going to die. It feels like he is underwater, with each beep of the heart monitor sinking further and further from the surface, away from his friends and from Billy.

He is in shock too, he guesses. All he can do is focus on Billy. The barely there freckles scattered across his nose, the arch of his lips, the tattoo on his shoulder, his golden curls and his long eyelashes. He wishes he could see the pretty blue eyes underneath.

Somebody says his name, he isn’t quite sure which of them it was. He feels himself turn his head in their direction, but his eyes are glued to Billy, taking in every little detail of his lover before it was too late. Before he’d never see his face again.

At one point, Susan checks the time and suggests they all go down to the cafeteria for a little break, but nobody, including her, moves at all. They all knew the longer they waited to pull the plug, the closer they got to not doing it at all. Steve kind of hopes that will be the case, that they will just keep putting it off and putting it off until visitation hours end, and they’ll have to come back the next day, and the next, and this won’t ever have to happen.

That wouldn’t work though, and in truth, he doesn’t really want it to. They are ready, and so is Billy.

At 5:30, Steve gives Max a look, and she nods sharply, a tear dripping off the end of her nose. He leans forward, and presses the orange call nurse button.

A solemn lady he doesn’t recognize, Billy's doctor probably, knocks on the door and comes in. She asked if they were sure, bringing along even more papers for him and Susan to sign about what would happen to Billy afterwards and to give written consent to pull the plug so they wouldn’t be able to open a case against the hospital for Billy's death.

She explains to them it might not be immediate, that he could live for hours, or even days without the support before he dehydrated or suffocated, but they didn’t think it would come to that. Although his heart had only really been grazed by the initial injury, it was getting weaker with every day that passed, the medicine they pumped into his body slowing its rate, ruining the muscle, and it was estimated that he probably wouldn’t make it through the night, if even for that long.

She worked around Steve and Max, removing IVs, tubes, anything that was artificial, and then it was time to wait. Immediately his heart rate slowed, and Steve felt himself starting to panic, thinking that this was already going to be it, but it plateaued and kept going steady.

Susan’s quiet voice comes from the corner, “Do you think we should talk to him?”

The doctor smiles artificially. “I think that would be the best thing you could do.” She takes the papers back and leaves.

Nobody wants to be the first to break the quiet.

El still struggled too much with her words to say anything, especially since she hadn’t had much practice with something like this. Her dad had been ripped away from her too, without so much as a goodbye. Loss wasn’t something she could articulate, so in the place of words, she holds Billy's hand in her right, and Max’s in her left.

Lucas had his hand on her back, rubbing circles there to calm her down. There were tears streaks on his cheeks, probably from seeing the girls so torn up, but he really didn’t know Billy, and he was uncomfortable enough with Neil looming. He didn’t have anything to say to him, and they all understood that.

It was hard for Max to think of anything to say, every emotion too strong within her to pick one thing to say. She was devastated, that her brother was going to die and she hadn’t been there with him every moment, and angry, that Steve got to make the choice whether he got to live and that her step father was in the room, and somewhere under the surface, relieved that Billy wouldn’t be suffering anymore. It was her best friends’ silent support that gave her the courage to speak up.

“I was supposed to say goodbye to you when you left for work that day, but I didn’t because I was being jerk and I was mad at you for something dumb. I guess this is my chance though so.. bye Billy. M’gonna miss you, or really I already do ‘cause, you know... I'm sorry for not being a good sister, but I don’t think you would’ve liked me if I was.” She chuckles wetly, a sob disguised as much at least, “I love you, bubba. I'm sorry.”

Silence blankets the room except for her sniffling, and Steve knows it’s his turn. Before he’d got there, he was planning out things he could say that would sound as platonic as possible, anything to try to save his image in front of the kids and Billy's parents apparently, but he scraps it all in the moment. These were the last moments he’d ever spend with his Billy, he couldn’t care less anymore who knew about them or not. He just needed him to know how much he loved him.

He wishes he had just a little more time to think, but Neil and Susan have nothing to say to Billy. Figures. Quite frankly, Steve is glad they hadn’t said a word either.

Billy and Susan never got along. He admitted he didn’t blame her for being complacent in his father’s abuse, but he still found it hard to move past her standing idly by while he was getting hurt. He had once swore when he’d turned up at Steve’s front door with a broken wrist that he would never forgive her for just standing by. It was for the best, Steve thinks, that she didn’t speak now.

Then there was Neil, never a man of many words, but Steve thinks he might’ve needed a second hospital bed if he’d opened his mouth. He was in some part okay with the fact that he was here, Billy would’ve wanted him to be present, but he drew the line at him opening his mouth. That man had tortured Billy, had put all kinds of terrible motions in his head about love and his worth and a thousand other things that left Billy confused and hurt, so Steve wholeheartedly blames him for his son's fate. Believes it was Neil and what he’d done to him that made Billy give up the fight.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Steve moves up the bed closer to Billy, and takes his hand in his. He bites his chapped lips and thinks long and hard about what he wants to say, leaving out all the bad, depressing things he could say. He got to choose what his last words would be to Billy, and he would be damned if they weren’t going to be positive.

“Bill, where do I even start? You’ve been so brave. I promised you you would become something great, and you did. You were our hero, but I’m so, so glad I know you as more than that. Because you were, you were an amazing older brother, a determined kid who could have had anything he wanted in life, and you were my partner.” There's a collective intake of breath, a sniffle from Max, and Neil leaves the room entirely, but Steve keeps going, “I’ll have the memories we made forever, and I will hold onto them as dearly as I have you all this time. I love you. I will always love you, Billy.”

The whole time he’d been speaking, his eyes had been flickering back and forth between the heart monitor and Billy’s face, checking for any sign that he could hear him and that they were doing the wrong thing, but there was nothing. Nothing but his too-slow heart beat droning on and on, maybe faltering more often than it should.

Steve knows that means it’s time to let go, so he finishes, his throat tight and his hands shaking, saying what he’d been fearing he’d have to since the very beginning, “You’ve fought hard enough, baby. You can let go.”

Twenty minutes later, at 6:19 on Sunday, January 25th, William Reuben Hargrove took his last breath.

Steve felt Max sob so hard that the bed shook, then stand up and throw herself into Lucas’ arms, and he heard Susan gasp and saw her cover her mouth with her hand and put her shaking hand on El’s shoulder. He heard a nurse open the door so far and so fast it hit the wall, but he didn’t really comprehend any of it. Deeper and deeper he continued under the water, sinking away from this reality he wanted nothing to do with.

He’s still clutching Billy's hand like his life depends on it when Susan says from behind him. “It’s time to go, Steve.”

But he can’t move. Some force is keeping him sitting in that bed next to Billy. His legs won’t work and his hand wouldn’t let go and he regrets this, just knows he can't leave him there alone. The kids are already herded out of the room, all in a huddle out in the hallway as they try to dry their tears.

The nurses wait patiently, heads down and hands crossed politely, for Susan to get Steve out of there, so they could then get Billy out too.

Steve is in shock though, and if it weren’t for the staff and his friends, he probably could, or rather would, stay there indefinitely. He was so distant from what was actually happening, that he hadn’t quite taken note of how quickly Billy had started to go.

Already the color is gone from his lips, and his hand, still held tightly in Steve’s, grows colder by the second. He’d been so weak already, it didn’t take very long at all, and they really don't think Steve should see him like this, lest the images of Billy in life be corrupted.

Susan puts her hand on his shoulder and squeezes, and it was as though he was brought back to reality. Looking up at her with his brown eyes wide and teary, he stands up. He looks back to Billy and gasps softly, stepping forward to press one final kiss just to the side of Billy’s lips, and turns to leave.

Where Susans hand is pressed into the small of his back, she can feel him shaking. As soon as he is out of the door, Max pulls him into a hug tight enough he feels like he could break.

“I had no idea.” She sobs into his shirt, “I’m sorry.”

“S’not your fault.” Steve answers numbly, a lump in his throat.

Max clings to his side, sniffling as they take the stairs down to the first floor. Steve keeps his head down, hating the sympathetic looks they were getting from the staff and from the people in plastic waiting chairs watching them as they left the hospital.

He’s halfway back to his car when Nancy, who’s been waiting to drive Max's friends back home, stops him, offering, “Let me take you home, Steve.”

He looks, and the kids are already loading up into Susan’s truck, and Steve wonders vaguely when they’d discussed this arrangement. “What about my car?”

She had already walked him to her brand new Honda CRX, a gift from her mother in case of an emergency, and opened the door, not taking no for an answer, “You can come back for it tomorrow.”

So he just lets her drive him, too numb to argue or really to drive himself. They pull into his driveway, and he mumbles out a thanks and tries to leave, but she puts her hand on his. “Listen, I don’t think you should be alone right now Steve. I can stay or I could call Robin for you if you’d like.”

“I’ll be alright, Nance.” Steve assures. Neither of them believe it.

“Are you sure, I-“ Nancy starts, but he gets out of the car and closes the door in her face, leaving her to debate with herself whether she should try to stay and force him out of isolation, or if she should leave him to grieve in privacy. Hesitantly, she chooses the latter.

Steve and her are not as close as they used to be, for reasons she does regret dearly, and she knows her company isn’t going to be what he needs right now. Staying in her car, she waits until his front doors shut behind him, and leaves, all the way home wondering if she’d done what was best for him. Ironic, that already people were worrying for Steve in the same way he alone had for the dead boy.

Back at Max’s house, Max goes straight to Billy’s room, taking initiative to claim everything in his space before Neil could come in and throw it out. She had heard about how when Billy’s mother left, Neil had gotten rid of every last one of her belongings, leaving nothing behind for his son but the picture of his mom he kept in a locket around his neck, the one he was still wearing even now, and her ring, which was already safe with Steve. She was going to make sure Neil wouldn’t touch a thing in that room, not even to dust it if she had her way.

Susan is occupied with trying to talk through what had happened at the hospital to her husband, excuse the part where Steve had outed them, watching in frustration as he remained entirely indifferent. It was only on the surface, just as it would be for any father, but still, he’d been so terrible to his son for so many years, he knew he didn’t have the right to be upset. He’d almost been the cause of Billy’s death enough times that, now that it had actually happened, it didn’t leave him devastated in the way it should’ve.

Steve on the other hand, he didn’t get that luxury of only caring with half of his heart. His whole world had been turned on its head, and he’d just lost the only thing that was keeping him going trying to get it back upright. All he had to look forward to was visiting Billy and the prospect of him waking up one day. Now that would never happen. Billy was dead.

That still hadn’t really sunk in, and some small part of Steve wonders if it ever would. Because he knows in his head he’ll never step foot in that hospital again, and that he’ll never have a reason to get ready at five o'clock on the dot every morning and drive to the hospital to stay until ten at night, but it didn’t feel real.

He throws himself down in a random armchair, a half empty bottle of whiskey already on the coffee table in front of him from the night before. He has to remind himself this isn’t that same old routine, that he’s drowning his sorrow and mourning in alcohol instead of getting the liquid courage to do this again in the morning.

The phone rings twice, but he doesn’t answer it either time. He listens to it ring and ring and ring in a tone that's so disgustingly familiar to his ears after waiting up every night and day to calls from the hospital, but he stays where he was. It was just Robin calling to check on him, but he doesn’t want to talk to her, or anybody for that matter.

Billy is dead. And Steve is ruined.

~~~~

At 6:20 on Sunday, January 25th, Billy Hargrove wakes up.

The last thing he remembers is the Camaro swerving off the road. His head was bleeding and he thinks he called the cops, but everything after that is a blank.

He realizes after he blinks away the blur times in his eyes, that he’s in the hospital, which isn’t much of a surprise, he had hit his head pretty hard and now there's a huge gap in his memory. In his time he’d had enough concussions from playing sports and being roughed up by his old man to know he was at risk for something like this, but it still makes him wonder, how long had he been out for?

The room is freezing, and it looks like it’s snowing outside. He’d crashed his car in June, or was it July? The fourth maybe? He remembered fireworks, but not much else. His dad was supposed to take them all to the festival. Why hadn’t they gone?

He decides, ignoring the sinking feeling that soemthing was wrong, that he’d probably walked away from the car crash, but then one of his stupid hick friends probably blew him up with a fire work or something idiotic like that. The dull pain in his chest would certainly attest to that.

But one thing that can’t be explained is why, despite potentially being out for months now, he isn’t hooked up to anything. As a matter of fact, there is nothing even on for him to be hooked up to. The monitors are completely silent and the ventilator is cracked. Hell, even the lights are off.

Nobody’s here to visit either, not even a nurse to attend to him. Billy knows the trust between Max and him is still shaky, and his parents don’t give a shit, but the fact that even Steve isn’t here confuses him. Makes him wonder for a moment if he’s dead, and this is some strange afterlife he's bound to because he went out with some unfinished business.

He quickly rules that out though, because he can feel the overwhelming cold, the stiff sheets beneath him, and he can hear the wind through the open window, the distant chirps of whatever creatures lurked in the woods that seemed to surround everything in this damn backwoods town. Maybe that’s only because he’s in denial.

He stands from the hospital bed, walking slow on his feet, every muscle in his body aching like he hadn’t done this in a long time, over to the window to see if maybe he could see the parking lot and check for his dad's truck or Steve’s bimmer. It’s then that’s when he realizes this is not just a normal hospital room, albeit somewhat poorly lit, because the window isn’t just open, it’s totally shattered, jagged shards of glass in its frame and scattered on the once pristine floor tiles. Through the hole there are thick black vines that twist around every corner of the room, spreading out over the far wall and wrapping around the hospital equipment, the chair in the corner, all the way to the legs of the bed, like whatever these weird plants were had broken through the window and were slowly taking over the room.

With a shudder, Billy wonders if maybe they would have eventually overtaken him too.

He decides he’s not going to stick around and find that out for himself, so he ditches the hospital entirely. There’s no reason sticking around in a place that felt so, so full of death.

Making his way through the halls, this place is definitely abandoned. Not a single other patient or doctor around, just more flickering lights that reveal even more of the rot and death that he could see from his room, and what had looked like snow outside filling the corridors inside.

Walking out of the hospital is even worse, the entire town seeming like it had just up and emptied out. It’s so dark, no moon or stars above to light his way. Everything is plagued with rot, those same vines from the hospital window taking over absolutely anything they can. From houses, to cars, to the actual roads. There’s no way there is anyone still surviving out here, so what the hell is he doing here?

Of course, there’s nobody around to ask what’s going on, the streets totally empty save for the occasional sound of echoing footfalls in the distance, and more of that chittering he heard before. He assumes it’s just animals, but it's unsettling, to say the least, this feeling that as he wanders the empty town he’s being watched, but he doesn’t let it get to him and he pushes on, looking for answers.

First thing, he has to figure out wherever this hellish place he'd been shipped off to after his accident is, and how the hell he was supposed to get home from here.

The streets are vaguely familiar, which doesn’t mean much, he’d driven through and stayed in countless towns for three days to get to Hawkins from California, but the extent of damage to the town, and his head, makes it nearly impossible to really recognize where he is. At least that is, until he stumbles upon a convenience store he knows for sure he’s been to before, and recently.

He used to buy cigarettes here every Tuesday, Fridays too if he was having a bad week. When nobody could be bothered to go all the way to the next town for groceries, Neil would send him and Max down to that little convenience store with fifty bucks, so there was always a little extra left over he'd pocket for later, or to buy Max candy with.

Last summer he remembers breaking in after dark, broken glass and blood all over the floor tiles, looking for somebody. Somebody he was supposed to kill. Wait, what?

His head hurts just thinking about that last one, memories in his head he can’t begin to understand, so he moves on. Adds that to the checklist of the many things he didn’t understand right now for later. There were more pressing things to worry about right now.

As sure as he is that he’s alive, he begins to have his doubts when he finds the newspaper displayed out front of the store, kept behind cracked and foggy plastic. The only reason he initially thinks of it is to check the date, see if there were any front page stories about the world ending or a bomb dropping on their small town or something, but what he finds instead only makes it all even more confusing.

Because on page four of the paper, he reads his own obituary.

Beneath a small copy of his senior portrait, it reads the usual, that he died on the 25th of January, that was hurt in a fire on the Fourth of July and succumbed to his injuries, where he was born and who his surviving family members were. None of that makes any damn sense to him though, because again, he’s pretty fucking sure he’s not dead. Either way, his funeral is being held next Thursday in the church Susan dragged them to on Sunday’s where he’d been barred from attending after someone at the high school (Tommy, he’s 100% sure it’s was fucking Tommy) let slip that Billy Hargrove might have a taste for dick. He tears the obit out of the paper and pockets it for later. Maybe he’ll be able to find answers there.

There has to be some mistake. Something really bad happened here, so who was updating the papers in the middle of what looked to be the damned apocalypse? And who would lie about him being dead when he’s the only damn person left seemingly in the entire city?

The one, and probably only, good thing about this situation is that he knows his way home from here, so he decides that’s his next goal. He might have no idea what’s going on, but home is still home, and he definitely could use some comfort right about now.

It would normally only be about a ten minute walk, but this cold is starting to get to him, the stabbing pains in his chest and back made even worse by the temperature, making it more like a half hour of dragging himself through the impossible dark back to Cherry Lane, wheezing and wincing all the way. Only when he does finally get home, he finds that it’s a complete disaster.

All of the windows are shattered, the whole front door is missing, everything he can see inside the house from carpet to ceiling is damp and moldy. It’s totally unlivable, but he still tries to call out for somebody. The thought of making it home just to find it completely abandoned, no signs of Max, who he knew somehow would know what to do, or anyone else around, was crushing.

So he tries, “Max?” Nothing. “Dad..?” Still nothing.

Any ideas in his head of hope were gone then. He was clueless and alone and hurting and fucking terrified about this entire situation the more he thought about it.

Whatever had happened, he knew he wasn’t going to just lay down and take it. He’d find his way back to normalcy, to his family and his friends and to Steve. God he missed Steve.

This hellhole isn’t any place for such a pretty boy, but what Billy wouldn’t give to have him by his side right now. But since he isn’t here, he tries to think instead, what would Steve do?

Well, the answer is that he would panic, but after that, he’d devise a plan. Though, a plan usually means that you have at least some idea what is going on or what you need to do, and Billy has none of that. He’s in some backwards version of Hawkins, apparently all by himself, in freezing his ass off and in pain. He figures the best thing to do right now is start with the little things, trying to fix any of those problems he possibly can.

The first he's just going to have to deal with, and the second, he’d already gone looking for people and nobody was anywhere to be found, so that wasn’t getting solved either. He can do something about being cold though, and he does, going off to his room, or what was left of it, to grab a jacket.

The second he opens the door he can tell that isn't going to happen though, there’s nothing in there but more decay. Everything but the bed and the couch are gone, and even that has been stripped of the sheets. Best he’s going to find in here is an old rotten blanket off the floor, so he closes the door and moves on.

Max’s room is next in the hall, and he’s not kidding himself about squeezing into his kid sister's clothes, so he keeps walking, pushing open his parents door. With his clothes missing from their place, he has no choice but to hope his dads haven’t been cleared out too.

Instantly he can tell their room is thankfully less destroyed than his was, the closet at least far enough away from the window it hadn’t really been damaged at all yet. The entire house is still basically a cesspit though, and some of the clothes are unsalvageable. He grabs whatever he can out of there anyways, saving a wool coat, a lined flannel, some denim, and his dad's army jacket.

He has to swallow his pride, which isn’t all too hard when his teeth start chattering from the cold, and put on the bomber jacket Neil had favored last winter, between arguments the one thing he and his dad had agreed on being that Hawkins was way too cold and that Susan was crazy for picking there to move.

It’s familiar and it’s warm and it makes him want to throw up. Makes him wish that even if his dad would probably be kicking his ass right now for wandering around aimless and scared instead of winging it like a real man, that he was here by his side. Just to have someone he knew in all this mess to make things a little easier.

Next thing to worry about once he’s done being misty eyed about a stupid jacket, is the intense aching in his body, more than what he’s used to even after ten years of hair trigger beatings, so he finds the bathroom next in the shell of his house, opening the medicine cabinet to check for some kind of painkillers.

They’ve got plenty between all the injuries that happen in this house, and Susan’s Valium addiction, but that’s something only he knows about, but there’s too much moisture in the air though, and the pill bottles are all full of something sludgey that he’s not putting anywhere near his mouth. All he gets from the bathroom is a dull ache at the front of his skull, and more detached memories like the one at the store, this time of the girl he killed.

Her blood is still on the cabinet, just above the door knob too. The memory of her wide brown eyes and screaming, so much screaming sits heavy in Billy’s mind. Had he done that? Heather was his best friend, there’s no way he would have ever hurt her.

He shakes his head, chasing those thoughts from his mind. If he was unsettled before, now he’s officially freakies the fuck out. Already in a strange place, now his body is wracked with phantom pains he couldn’t explain and memories that didn’t belong to him, leaving Billy feeling like a stranger in his own skin.

What the hell had happened to him?

#harringrove big bang 2021 #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #max mayfield #susan hargrove #neil hargrove #tw major character death #ej writer #story by ej! #the parts in italics are Billy’s pov #more tags on ao3

[instasiswetrust]

Harringrove AUgust Day 6 - Detective/Crime AU

There was a pointed click as Steve snapped his phone closed and tucked it back into his pocket. Joyce had given him a lead that would help Nancy and Jonathan with finding the Chinese scientist, and he had taken a minute too long forwarding the information to Nancy.

Enough time for his husband- No. Not his anything. Not anymore.

Enough time for Billy to snap out of whatever drug the Pavlovich's brothers had used to sedate him.

"What's her obsession with you? You guys got, like, a mommy-son thing going on?" Billy's voice was slurred but clearly mocking, brow furrowed in a fake worried expression. Trying to get a rise out of him probably.

Steve could only stare, eyes burning, as he did his very best to hold back the tears that threatened to spill.

"What's your plan? Is Mommy coming over? Is she gonna make me talk?"

"No, she's not." He muttered with a slight shake of his head, eyes never leaving Billy's blue eyes.

Those blue eyes that he had seen a thousand times before, in bed, right after he woke up, across from him on the table, next to him whenever he needed them. So many moments spent together. Moments he had believed every word and every feeling were real.

Lies. All lies.

"I am." And he's so glad that his voice comes out steadier than he feels.

Billy's eyes widen just the tiniest bit, mouth twitching up for a split second. It's clear he doesn't believe Steve is capable of that. Good. Let him underestimate him.

Steve takes the seat across from Billy on the table, arms crossed over his chest to prevent himself from fidgeting. "Who do you work for?"

"I have nothing to say."

Guess it's going to be that way then.

With a roll of his eyes, Steve gets up and walks over to the kitchen. Opens the tool cabinet and rustles around until he finds the pliers. Takes them out and walks over to where Billy is bound to the kitchen chair, sliding a hand over his shoulder in a threatening grip.

"Who do you work for?" He repeats, taking Billy's thumb between the teeth of the pliers.

"Stevie, come on." There was the smallest hint of panic in Billy's voice. So tiny that only someone who knew him well might've been able to notice it. Steve tries not to think about how much that hurts. "You don't have it in you."

He doesn't bother giving an answer. Instead, he tightens the pliers, twisting them until he hears the telltale crunch of bones breaking under the force. Billy screams from the pain, squirming in his seat as if trying to get away but Steve doesn't relent his hold.

Once he's satisfied that the thumb is broken, he steps back and walks back to his seat. His hand and the teeth of the pliers are covered in Billy's blood but he doesn't give a single flying fuck about it. He can worry about clean up later.

"You broke my thumb." Billy's smiling. His voice sounds slightly disbelieving but there's a smile on his face that doesn't seem to be born from joy.

"Yeah, I did." And okay, maybe Steve can't quite believe he did that but he doesn't feel bad. Not in the slightest. "If you're looking for sympathy you might wanna start with honesty."

The smile drops, lips thinning into a flat line at the same time those blue eyes glare back at him.

"Here's an example of honesty, Billy." Adrenaline courses through Steve in spikes that leave him feeling heady, giggles sticking in his throat. He knows it's a little silly, a little dumb, but he rather laugh like a loon than break down crying in front of Billy. "You've been making me pancakes for two years. I hate pancakes."

"You want honest? Here's one." Billy learns forward as best as he can, despite the pain he must be in right now. "If you're gonna handcuff somebody, don't break their thumb."

His words take a second too long to register.

Steve barely gets enough time to step back from the trajectory of the chair, as Billy pulls out his hand from the bindings and flips the chair over the table, successfully freeing himself from the remaining binding on his feet. He tries to scramble away towards the lamp in an attempt to use it to defend himself, but Billy slamming the chair against his back ends up throwing him against the floor, gasping for air.

With difficulty, he manages to grab the bar of the lamp and get to his feet, at the same time Billy lunges at him with the chair again. He manages to deflect the hit and send the chair careening off to the side but the distraction is enough for Billy to land a pointed kick to his midsection that sends him careening back into the desk.

Billy tries to pin him down then but Steve manages to squirm out of his grasp and tip the bookcase over in an effort to distract him so Steve has enough time to reach over for his gun that sits by the coffee table. Just as his hand closes against the handle, he feels a body slam into his back, the gun sliding over the wooden floor.

They scramble for purchase, kicking and scratching at whatever piece of the other they can hold onto but in the end, Billy ends up winning. He gets his hands around the gun and points it down at Steve, arms steady despite the way he's panting.

"Your handcuffs. One on the wrist, one on the banister. Do it." Billy doesn't yell but he commands, all the while keeping the gun pointed right at Steve's head.

Reluctantly, he does as he's told, glaring at Billy while he does it. He's going to leave and Steve will have lost him. Lost his chance for answers. Forever.

Fuck.

"I am not here to hurt you, Stevie. My job was never to hurt you." Billy's voice tries for placating as if the gun he's got pointed at Steve's face is more for his own protection than a way to threaten the brunette. "I'm one of the good guys. Byers, she's not who you think."

"I will find you," Steve growls, ignoring the tears that slide freely down his bruised cheeks.

"I can prove it." Billy insists, a plead more than anything else. "The key in the lamp, I know you found it. Take it to Radford Bank. Box number 3929. She is not who you think she is."

There's remorse in those blue eyes as well as determination. It burns inside his chest and fights to drag out a hushed sob past Steve's lips. Billy's hand twitches, almost as if he wanted to reach out but had to hold himself back at the last moment. With a heavy sigh, he lowers the gun.

"Goodbye, Stevie."

The sound of the door closing behind him had never been so loud.

#HarringroveAUgust #day 6 #drabbles #The Blacklist au #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove

[wittyrosebush]

🎉 100 Follower Special!!!!!!!! 🎉

Yes, I know that 100 isn't a lot, but I'm happy about it. I have made a playlist of 100 songs, give me a number, pronouns, and a character on the list and I'll write a prompt for them! My only conditions are that it's not smut.

I also do poly and platonic relationships!

Characters:

Star Wars:

Kylo Ren

Rey Palpatine

Poe Dameron

Obi Wan

Padme Amadala

Mando/Dyn Djarin

Marvel:

Steve Rogers

Bucky Barnes

Loki

Stephen Strange

Natasha Romanova

Wanda Maximoff

Pietro Maximoff

Criminal Minds:

Emily Prentiss

Aaron Hotchner

David Rossi

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Elle Greenaway

Penelope Garcia

Luke Alvez

NCIS

Tony DiNozzo

Ziva Davidd

Stranger Things:

Nancy Wheeler

Jim Hopper

Steve Harrington

Game of Thrones:

Sansa Stark

Jon Snow

Podrick Payne

Miscellaneous Musicals:

Heather McNamara from Heathers

Eliza Schuyler from Hamilton

Maria Reynolds from Hamilton

Michael from Be More Chill

Jeremy from Be More Chill

Miscellaneous Movies/TV Shows

Zuko from ATLA

Ransom Drysdale from Knives Out

Songs:

I'm So Sorry - Imagine Dragons

Piano Man - Billie Joel

I'm an Albatraoz - AronChupa

Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap - AC/DC

Help! - The Beatles

Come Together - The Beatles

Human - Rag'n'Bone Man

Counting Stars - OneRepublic

Castle - Halsey

Don't Stop Me Now - Queen

Take On Me - aha

Should I Stay or Should I Go - The Clash

Girls like Girls - Hayley Kiyoko

Welcome to the Jungle - Guns N' Roses

Dream On - Aerosmith

Live and Let Die - Paul McCartney

You Give Love a Bad Name - Bon Jovi

What it's Like - Everlast

Crazy Train - Ozzy Osborne

Survivor - cover by 2WEI

My Life - Billie Joel

Control - Halsey

Monster - Imagine Dragons

No Scrubs - cover by Unlike Pluto

Black Hole Sun - Soundgarden

Like a Prayer - Madonna

Material Girl - Madonna

Mr. Brightside - The Killers

Feeling Good - Michael Buble

Americano - Lady Gaga

You should see me in a Crown - Billie Eilish

River - Bishop Briggs

Love Like You - Rebecca Sugar

Bad Romance - Lady Gaga

Little Talks - Of Monsters and Men

Pound the Alarm - Nicki Minaj

Viva La Vida - Coldplay

Who We Are - Imagine Dragons

Birthday Suit - Cosmo Sheldrake

Good as Hell - Lizzo

Truth Hurts - Lizzo

Juice - Lizzo

Come Along - Cosmo Sheldrake

Welcome to the Black Parade - My Chemical Romance

You Don't Own Me - SAYGRACE

Bury a Friend - Billie Eilish

Bad Guy - Billie Eilish

Tiny Dancer - Elton John

Crocodile Rock - Elton John

I'm Still Standing - Elton John

Come Along - Cosmo Sheldrake

We Didn't Start the Fire - Billie Joel

Somebody That I Used to Know - Gotye

Mr. Glassman - Scotty Sire

Gasoline - Halsey

Don't Go Breaking My Heart - Elton John

These Boots Are Made For Walkin' - Nancy Sinatra

Edge of Seventeen - Stevie Nocks

Juke Box Hero - Foreigner

Uma Thurman - Fall Out Boy

Sweet Dreams - Eurythmics

Oops!... I Did It Again - Britney Spears

Some Nights - Fun

I Will Wait - Mumford & Sons

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) - The Proclaimers

Sweater Weather - The Neighborhood

Ophelia - The Lumineers

Hayloft - Mother Mother

Line Without a Hook - Ricky Montgomery

Arms Tonite - Mother Mother

Look What You Made Me Do - Taylor Swift

Shatter Me - Lindsey Stirling

She Wolf - David Guetta

(Don't Fear) The Reaper - Blue Oyster Cult

Renegades - X Ambassadors

Crazy - Gnarls Barkley

Roxanne - The Police

Dude Looks Like A Lady - Aerosmith

99 Luftballoons - NENA

Funkytown - Lipps Inc.

Blood in the Water - Grandson

Verbatim -Mother Mother

Baby One More Time - Britney Spears

Hooked On A Feeling - Blue Swede

Mad World - Gary Jules

Feel It Still - Portugal. The Man

Handclap - Fitz and the Tantrums

Friction - Imagine Dragons

Yesterday - Imagine Dragons

Bleeding Out - Imagine Dragons

Natural - Imagine Dragons

All of Me - John Legend

Ho Hey - The Lumineers

Private Eyes - Daryl Hall & John Oates

Ain't No Mountain High - Marvin Gaye

I Will Survive - Gloria Gaynor

Art is Dead - Bo Burnham

Cake by the Ocean - DNCE

Under Pressure - Queen

Tell Him - The Exciters

#kylo ren x reader #rey x reader #steve rodgers x reader #poe x reader #obi wan x reader #padme x reader #the mandolorian x reader #bucky barnes x reader #loki x reader #stephen strange x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #emily prentiss x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #david rossi x reader #spencer reid x reader #derek morgan x reader #Penelope garcia x reader #elle greenaway x reader #luke alvez x reader #tony dinozzo x reader #ziva david x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #steve harrington x reader #jim hopper x reader #sansa stark x reader #jon snow x reader #podrick payne x reader #ransom drysdale x reader

[stevenismyboy]

You Belong Among The Stars.

a/n: inspired by a post written by @jxnehxpper​ (check her work out because it’s incredible!!!) from a few weeks ago, I just couldn't resist not writing about Steve as Han Solo! I haven't been here long enough, but I hope you still enjoy my work. The day after tomorrow, or in two days' time I should publish the next part of To All The Boys I Loved Before au- who's excited? I certainly am! 

summary: This year, Steve is dressing up as a famous Star Wars smuggler for Halloween. But he didn't expect to meet a princess on his way. You can find my Masterlist here.

-

Steve loved Halloween. As soon as the leaves on the trees started to turn red, yellow and orange instead of green, he and Dustin just couldn't wait for it. Robin didn't share their admiration, although she was happy to join in with the costumes and go for a trick or treat in the evening. Steve wanted that night so badly. He wanted to be someone else for one night. Somebody special.

“Give me that” the guy sighed annoyed. Dustin reluctantly gave him a can of hairspray. Steve looked at himself in the mirror and put his lips in a beak, still dissatisfied with the effect. “You look good, Your Majesty. I've got to look, too. Don't be selfish!” Dustin sighed, trying to rip the can out of his hands. Steve just raised his hand up so his friend couldn't reach it. “Come on, that's not fair!”

“You, my little friend, are just going to ask the old ladies for candy. And I'm going hunting to a distant galaxy today, inhabited by the hottest girls on the planet Hawkins. You don't need a hairstyle from space” Steve snorted. 

“Just because I'm younger than you doesn't mean I have to look worse. Chewbacca had a great haircut. I'm not gonna let your tall ego ruin my image” the guy answered and finally ripped out his can. His costume looked fantastic. The kid worked on it so long, Steve was impressed. The fake fur was sewn by Claudia to his brown sweatshirt and even darker pants. Dustin worked almost all evening to attach his eyebrows and beard, but Robin and Steve assured him that what he had was enough.

It was Steve who came up with the idea for their costumes. He had to admit that he surprised himself year after year. His creativity was getting higher and higher. When he was recently moving cassettes with movies on the shelf with the most watched productions, he came across Star Wars and simply couldn't resist. He found and ironed a white shirt, bought a brown vest for a few dollars, and completed the whole thing with tall shoes, waving a plastic fake gun in his hands. Everyone will know who he is. A smuggler. Casanova of the Milky Way. Han Solo.

“First of all, you look terrible enough for a creature from outer space. And second, who do you want to impress today? You've already found your Suzie” Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Excuse me? Just because I have a girlfriend doesn't mean I'll go to Halloween unprepared. That would be unprofessional, and you, Steven Harrington, should know that of all the people you know, I am the least unprofessional. I could have been Luke, but you insisted I have to be Chewie, so bite your tongue and wait for me at the Millennium Falcon”.

“Yes, Captain” Steve saluted a friend and left the bathroom. His parents weren't home as usual. Why? To ruin his night?

Robin was already waiting downstairs. She was chewing the gum lazy looking at his childhood photos in frames, listening to the wind howling outside. She was wearing jeans, a white checked shirt and a red vest, much more spacious than the one Steve had. She looked at him surprised and made a gum balloon that broke with a loud crack.

“I have to admit that... I didn't expect you to look so good. And believe that it was supposed to be a compliment”she added quickly when Steve made a pirouette to present herself to her. “You really liked that movie so much?” Steve wrinkled his nose, pointing to her outfit. “Well, I don't remember much of it, given that I was completely high, but I had no other idea, and time was running out. Besides, I didn't spend millions on it. Marty Mcfly is fully satisfied with me” his friend shrugged her shoulders. True, she remembered little of "Back to the Future", but so what? She remembered that she liked it. Before she stared at the lights on the ceiling so long that she threw up in the bathroom.

“I gave you an idea. Then you disagreed” Steve squinted, pretending to be offended, though in a way it was. He's been dreaming about this day for months. He was supposed to be Han Solo, Dustin Chewbacca (though he would only spend two or three hours with him and Robin) and his friend was supposed to be Leia. But she didn't even want to hear about it. 

“I'll say again for the hundredth time, dingus. I don't want to and I will never dress up as a princess”. “Did you ever watch that movie? She's great! She's damn brave, sarcastic, and I guess I don't have to add that she's super hot. Don't you see the resemblance?” Steve raised one eyebrow. Robin sighined, threw herself on the couch, looking out the window. 

“You're only talking like that to convince me. My costume is ready, and Leia is absolutely not persuading me. Do you have any idea how many chicks can dress up like her today? A whole lot. You'll be able to dress up in them as much as you like. So leave me alone and accept that today you're playing a duo instead of a trio” she said with her hands behind her head. Steve refrained from commenting, hearing Dustin's feet rumble on the stairs. The boy ran to them with a perfectly laid out head, smiling from ear to ear.

“Ready for the most scary night of the year?” he asked, carrying his plastic gun and falling out before anyone could stop him.

-

After Steve and Robin made sure that Dustin would reach his friends safely and his sugar level would not exceed the norm, Steve took them both to the party he had been waiting for so long. Fortunately, Tina didn't organize it. He would have had the resistance to go to the bathroom to relive the same experience as last year. The host was some Nick (he didn't even know who hewas) but Robin made sure that he was a great guy and everyone who will be there would make sure that they don't forget that night for the rest of their lives.

They went through the crowd of sweaty teenagers, heading to the kitchen to find alcohol. Robin's blue eyes were wandering around the people, looking for a girl who has been visiting her at work quite often lately. Steve was looking around too. He was looking for smiling ladies, shiny eyes, long hair. He wanted to feel different today. He wanted to feel as if he could still please someone else. As a smuggler, he wanted to steal someone's heart today. Not for one night. Maybe for longer.

“Steve! Here!” Nancy waved at him, standing by the fireplace. Robin ran up to her first to say hi. The girl was wearing a short green dress and cardboard wings, painted with paint and glitter that was falling under her feet. She looked like a real forest fairy. Jonathan chose no costume, but was wearing a green shirt that matched his girlfriend's outfit. Steve smiled, nodding his head at him.

“You look incredible! Steve... I wouldn't expect you to be a smuggler today, Nancy smiled, drinking a sip of juice from her mug. Apparently after the last time she said she wouldn't touch alcohol on Halloween. “Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far, away...” Jonathan quoted the movie, giving Steve a hand. The boy shooked it, scratching his neck. A couple of people had already managed to hang their eyes on him and, frankly, he didn't expect it to embarrass him. He used to get used to the looks. Now, they made him feel warm.

All of a sudden, Robin's eyes were shining. She saw the blackness of a girl's hair, who had recently occupied her thoughts. She banged up and put her hand on Nancy's shoulder, apologizing to her. “You'll have to forgive me for a moment. I have to... move in time” she smiled at one corner of her mouth and rushed into the crowd so she wouldn't lose her chosen one. Steve smiled at her on the run and went into the crowd himself to dance. Wanting to dance like he hadn't danced in a long time, so that he could enjoy the music with all his heart and that he was among strangers for whom he was now only a smuggler.

At the same time, you too are stuck in a crowd of people. The pride in your costume began to splash like a soap bubble. The long, white dress got tangled under your feet, the long sleeves made you hot. It's good that the belt kept the fabric at the waist and didn't slip lower than it should. Instead of two princess's chignons on both sides of your head, you tied ordinary ponies, hoping that everyone would still know who you are today.

As you were fixing your make up on the couch, the mascara fell out of your hand, making your fingers black. All you wanted was to get into the bathroom to wash your fingers and accidentally not touch the dress. The princess is not allowed to walk in dirty clothes. But a party is always a party. A moment of inattention was enough for someone to step on a piece of your dress. You lost your balance by falling into a crowd of people, getting ready to meet the floor.

But that didn't happen. Someone's strong shoulders woven around your waist to protect you from falling. The ponies just swirled around your face, and when you took them aside, your heart stopped.

The universe has stopped for a moment. The planets stopped circulating, the stars surely glowed brighter. Steve couldn't believe his eyes. One moment he danced as if it was the last night of his life, and the next he held Princess Leia in his arms. You were speechless. The real, living Han Solo embraced you with no intention of taking his hands off you.

“I... um... my hands are dirty” you said the first thing that came to your mind, hitting yourself in your head for this stupid sentence. “My hands are dirty, too” Steve said immediately, and then he closed his eyes from embarrassment. “I mean... No, they're not, you don't have to worry about the dress, but it's a quote... That's what Han Solo said to Leia when... I just wanted...”. “I understand” you said it with a wide smile. Steve relaxed. He still didn't take his hands, but at least he stopped feeling the burning shame. “Well, if you know the movie so well, what did Han Solo say later?”

“I think... I think he asked 'what are you afraid of?’” Steve guessed, squinting his dark eyes a little. “Afraid?” you repeated amused again, not believing in your own happiness. Someone who knew Star Wars lines by heart, someone who was dressed up as Han Solo, someone who looked amazingly charming saved you from falling? No way. 

“You're trembling” Steve squinted, continuing to quote. Maybe he was even a little right. You got goosebumps out of your nerves, although just a moment ago, the long sleeves were keeping the heat. “I'm not trembling” your fingers went to his vest. You forgot they could leave ink streaks.

“You like me because I'm a scoundrel. There aren't enough scoundrels in your life” Steve smiled even wider. “I happen to like nice men”. “I'm a nice man” he said it clearly. If he have to, he'll convince you to spend the evening with him. That he won't do anything to upset or disappoint you. He didn't even have to try. You already believed him.

“Well, let's see how well you're dancing” you're smiling, giving him a hand, completely forgetting the traces of the mascara. Steve didn't even care about that. He was led by the princess to the middle of the dance floor and when she held his hand he could swear that although he was in the middle of the house, he saw the stars in front of his eyes.

Taglist: @mochminnie​ @quen1054 @krazykatkay456​ @sydzygy​ @ghostineleven​ @the-almond-dinger​ @l0ve-0f-my-life​

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #dustin henderson #dustin henderson imagine #robin buckley #robin buckley imagine #nancy wheeler #nancy wheeler imagine