#she wasn’t even saying it to be homophobic either

[inawickedlittletown]

Rather Be The Hunter Than The Prey (BuckTommy fic) - 7x10 coda

Author's note: Title comes from Natural by Imagine Dragons.

At first, he didn’t tell Tommy because it wasn’t something Buck could just say over the phone or text. A part of him had hoped that Chim would spill the beans and that it wouldn’t be up to Buck. Then again, Chim and Hen both had their own baggage when it came to their new Captain. Captain Gerrard was every bit of a tyrant, misogynist, racist, homophobe that Hen, Chim, and Tommy had painted him out to be. Maybe he was even worse. 

Bobby told them to tolerate it. He needed to clear the air with the Chief and it wouldn’t help to anger Gerrard. Grin and bear it. None of them liked the plan exactly, but Hen had a feeling that they would get targeted if they made a fuss. She was thinking about the councilwoman and had some kind of suspicion that she was involved in Gerrard’s return to the 118. They also couldn’t forget that the Chief had given them medals purely for the PR — though they were deserved. After all, they all knew that they had disobeyed orders and stolen a LAFD helicopter no matter what the outcome had been. 

Buck was losing count of how often he had to just hold his tongue. The comments, the sneers, the belittlement. It was worse than Buck could have expected it. Ravi seemed to get the worst of it. Extra cleaning and menial tasks on top of all the racist remarks. Forget trying to step up and help him, because Gerrard didn’t like that either. He didn’t like a lot of things, like his exact orders not being followed. Or anyone that dared to question any of his decisions. He even huffed about it when he did turn out to be wrong. 

After those first few shifts, Buck just didn’t say anything because he and Tommy had opposing schedules and what little time they had together couldn’t be spent discussing Gerrard. Buck wanted to kiss his boyfriend in peace and not think about the mess that was work. 

Then, when they did finally have time off together, Buck was so exhausted both physically and mentally that he wanted nothing more than to just be cuddled by his boyfriend. He excused it, because Tommy didn’t ask about work. 

Buck didn’t know how Tommy hadn’t heard. Maybe Air Operations got their gossip a bit late. 

They all wrote letters of complaint. Hen documented every instance of Gerrard’s movements. Any bad decision out on a call was written down. Every time he talked down to them and used a slur. Every time he bullied any of them. 

The weird part was when he tried to be friendly. He started with Eddie. Maybe because Eddie was white passing and because Eddie was straight. Eddie was surprisingly good at not rocking the boat, though Buck should have known that. Eddie never agreed with him, was stony faced whenever Gerrard tried to joke with him in a way that put down everyone else. A few times, Buck heard Eddie say something back, but he wasn’t in any place to fight anyone’s battles. 

Buck had to ball up his fists and press his nails into the palms of his hands as a reminder that this man did have power over him and also the ear of the Chief apparently. Bobby wasn’t getting anywhere no matter who he talked to. 

Buck didn’t know how Tommy found out. Maybe the gossip finally reached him, or Chim finally told him. Maybe Eddie mentioned it at basketball. 

It was right after Buck got home from a twenty four hour that had felt more like a forty eight. He hadn’t been there long, when a knock came. He opened the door to find Tommy there, looking a little exasperated. Buck couldn’t even remember making plans with him. 

“Why didn’t you say something?” Tommy asked. 

“About—”

“Evan,” Tommy said and he said it in that way of his that made his name mean more. 

“You’re talking about Gerrard,” Buck said and he hung his head. “I didn’t mean to not tell you.” 

Tommy sighed. He didn’t look upset as much as annoyed. Buck hated it. He motioned him inside. 

“He’s awful. More than awful. Despicable,” Buck said. 

“How did this even happen?” Tommy asked, gentler. 

Wordlessly, Buck went to his fridge and pulled out two beers. His usual choice and the ones he stocked up on just for Tommy. 

“Bobby was planning on retiring early. He quit before the fire. Changed his mind, but Gerrard had already talked his way into Bobby’s job. It doesn’t help that we had that audit from Internal Affairs and the Chief knows what really happened when we rescued Bobby and Athena. Hen thinks Councilwoman Ortiz is involved. It’s been awful.”

“Oh, Evan,” Tommy said. 

When he found himself in Tommy’s arms, Buck just deflated. He fell into him and knew his boyfriend would catch him and hold him. He may not be able to fix it, but he would certainly do his best to at least comfort Buck. 

“He just…he makes all kinds of comments and he’s changed practically everything. Bobby told us to just not let it get to us. Hen’s been documenting everything. Eddie’s depressed without Christopher. Chim is just about as done as I am. We’re surviving, but work kind of sucks right now.”

Tommy hugged him harder. 

“I’m still a little mad at you,” Tommy said, when he finally let him go. “You should have told me. I hate…I hate to think you were suffering and I didn’t know.” 

“I didn’t…I know what he did to you, Tommy. I didn’t want to bring any of that back.” 

Tommy gave him a look, but Buck had seen first hand how Gerrard still affected Tommy. He didn’t want to see that again, not after experiencing Gerrard for himself. 

“Messing with me is one thing. You…well that’s another,” Tommy said and he walked around the island. “Hen and Chim don’t deserve this either. I’m going to shake some trees, alright? The 118 got rid of him once, it can be done a second time. That man shouldn’t even be working for LAFD anymore.” 

“Bobby’s been trying from the moment we found out he was taking over,” Buck said. “We’ve all been complaining daily.”

Tommy made a humming noise. “Then that just means they have to see his behavior first hand. And not by the Chief.”

Buck was too tired for conspiring to get rid of his boss when he didn’t fully expect things to work. After getting called a fairy and weak, and after the day Gerrard said people like him were abominations, Buck was exhausted. 

“What are you going to do?” 

Tommy smiled at him, slid a hand to his cheek. “I have a few people to call up. Not tonight. Tonight, I take care of you.” 

“Tomorrow world domination?” Buck asked. 

Tommy leaned forward, pressing their lips together into a quick kiss, thumb rubbing gently on Buck’s cheek. 

“Tomorrow I call in some favors,” Tommy said when their kiss ended. “Right now, I’m calling for dinner.” 

Buck laughed. He kissed him again, drawing him in deeper. He was falling for him, falling deep. It wasn’t scary, which was maybe scary in and of itself. When they pulled apart, Tommy pointed upstairs. 

“Go get changed. I’ll order us a pizza. We can watch one of your documentaries.” 

Buck kissed him again. This time short, almost just a peck. He stared at Tommy for a beat too long before he turned to head upstairs. His boyfriend was amazing. Gorgeous. Kind. Understanding. 

Later, when they were cuddling on the couch, a pizza box on the coffee table and their beer bottles discarded empty next to the box, Buck thought that maybe it didn’t matter much about Gerrard, not when Buck had Tommy. He brought up one of Tommy’s hands so he could place a kiss on it. Tommy kissed his shoulder. Neither of them said a word, the silence filled instead with the narrator of the nature documentary they’d put on.

#911 abc #911 fic #bucktommy #bucktommy fic #tevan #kinley #tommy kinard #evan buckley #S7 coda #7x10 coda #spoilers #911 spoilers

[incorrectly-quoting-mxtx]

I was talking to my Grandmother last night about being bisexual and she asked me “shouldn’t you see a doctor about that?” and words cannot describe my confusion.

#she wasn’t even saying it to be homophobic either #lgbtq #bisexual #at least it’s better than when I can out to my mom #I think she really only cares if I’m engaging in PDA around her #which fair enough

[abby420]

there is no greater alliance than an eldest daughter and her mom

#there’s so much family drama going on between me my mom and my step mom rn and basically the whole family #and me and my mom are really out here being the only ones with an ounce of emotional intelligence #basically my step mom has been questioning my moms parenting around my sisters and being slightly homophobic saying it wasn’t age app for us #to bring them to pridefest (it was the family friendly pride event during the day?? and either way they are 12 and 13 they are starting to #question their identity at this age so it’s important for us to be open and supportive) and then she got mad at ME for asking to bring my #sisters back to my moms house with me sunday night bc i don’t get to visit often and when i do visit it’s the weekends and my sisters are at #my dads on the weekends #and she’s just been really passive aggressive about it and accusing me of stealing my dads time away from my sisters #and then my sister in law goes and gets herself involved saying it’s not fair for us to take them on the weekends bc we get 5 other days of #the week but like girl we all have work and school like #?? #but she doesn’t get that cause all she does is sit around the house all day she ain’t even got a job #and then my brother gets involved like ‘please don’t involve her she’s so stressed’ like if she didn’t want to get involved then wHy would #she say something??? #and now me and my mom are like protective mode on handling this amazingly and being bad bitches #our protective instincts over my sisters will win don’t worry

[evermoresqueiswriting]

dance the night

"Baby, you can find me under the lights Diamonds under my eyes Turn the rhythm up, don't you wanna just Come along for the ride? Oh, my outfit so tight You can see my heartbeat tonight I can take the heat, baby, best believe That's the moment I shine"

summary: barbie date and an invitation from clarisse you can't refuse

pairing: clarisse la rue x f!reader

word count: 3.4k

tags: fluff fluff fluff

series masterlist 2/?

You were getting more and more comfortable at camp. You were getting along very well with your siblings. Especially Lee and Cornelia, who explained everything – sometimes twice – to you. They also explained to you that if you wanted to leave camp during the summer, you needed to get an authorisation from Mr. D. And Clarisse knew, so she told you to get it since it was your idea to go see that movie. Your siblings told you he rarely gave them away. 

“Mmh. I accept this challenge.”

“It really wasn’t,” Lee said. “It was a piece of information at best.”

You walked, determined, to Mr. D’s office. You didn’t have many arguments, but Cornelia did tell you Mr. D was always looking for campers to give him alcohol even though his father, Zeus, forbade him to drink any. Mr. D was playing cards with Chiron. Maybe it wasn’t the right time, you hesitated before Chiron looked up.

“Yes?” he said, putting his cards down. 

“Mmh,” you froze before staring at your camp director, “I needed to talk to Mr. D, please.”

Chiron turned his face to look at Mr D, and he took off his sunglasses before looking at you.

“What?”

“I need authorisation to leave camp for one day,” you explained firmly. “Please.”

“And why would I give you that?” 

“Because I need it. For next week, the 21st,” you begged.

Mr D stared at you, bored. He was ready to take back his cards, when you shouted, desperately.

“I–I’ll give you alcohol in exchange!” 

“No you will not!” Chiron gave you a hard stare. “Zeus–.”

“I’m desperate, so yes I will.” 

Mr D was still silent. 

“What is this about y/n?” Chiron asked. “Why do you need to leave camp?”

“I– I asked Clarisse on a date. Well,” you faltered. “It’s not exactly a date I don’t think, it’s more like I won a bet, and what I asked for was for us to go see a movie together. So maybe it is? And it would suck for me if I can’t go, when I won the bet you know.”

Chiron and you were both looking at Mr. D, and you had your best puppy eyes for him.

“Still a no for me,” Mr. D took his cards. 

“Please, please, please, please, please!” 

Mr. D shook his head. You sighed, thinking about what to say to try and convince him to let you go. 

“That’s–,” you hesitated before blurting out “such a homophobic thing to do in 2024 to refuse to let us go on a date! Which is what that is… a date, with us girls.”

“What?” Mr. D muttered confused.

“And during pride month? You have no shame. It’s–.”

“Fine, if I give you this authorisation, will you shut up and leave?”

You nodded vigorously. And Mr. D sent you a  flying paper with the snap of a finger, and after reading the paper to make sure it was legit – which did take a few minutes – you ran away in case he changed his mind. The first person you ran into Luke and asked him if he had seen Clarisse. He pointed at the Ares cabin, and told you he saw her go in. 

You walked to her cabin, and knocked, shouting Clarisse’s name over and over again. The door flew open, revealing an annoyed Clarisse.

“Hi,” you smiled. 

Her face softened slightly at your sight, but she still looked at you annoyed, with her arms crossed. 

“What?”

“Guess what?” your hands were in your back, hiding away the piece of paper you got earlier.

“Your boyfriend called your mom to ask her why you ditched him?” 

“What?” you hesitated. “No. First, I don't have a boyfriend, they were all losers in my school. And no girlfriends either for the same reason.”

“Good,” she nodded. “So what was the news then?”

The paper was still held behind your back, you held her gaze a few more seconds before showing her proudly the paper. She looked at the paper, frowning, and then took your paper. You stood there patiently, swinging on your feet, waiting for her to finish reading it at her own pace. 

“How did you get Mr. D to agree to this?” she puts the paper down. 

“It’s a secret. But I’ll tell you if you want to know.”

“Of course I do, no one here in years got one of these,” she shook the paper in front of you. 

You held up your index, and made a ‘come closer’ motion with it. She came closer, and you put your face even closer, her nose almost touching yours. Clarisse was taller than you – taller than most campers actually – and your face was facing up. And having her this close to you, it was as if time had stopped. You smiled. 

“I promised him alcohol,” you whispered. 

“What!” she stepped back. “Do you know Zeus–.”

“I know, I know, Cornelia told me. I don’t remember what I said after that,’ you lied, “I guess he just likes me.”

“Okay,” Clarisse smiled, “liar.”

Clarisse and you stood there, at the threshold of the Ares cabin for a few more moments, just enjoying each other's company before her siblings ran in, pushing you toward Clarisse. Your  body slammed against hers, her arms wrapped around your shoulders to steady you. You would have been upset if it weren’t for the outcome. But Clarisse quickly let go before grabbing the shirt of her brother – Mark – and made him stop in his tracks. You didn’t hear what she said, but you saw Mark nodding vigorously before walking away. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Clarisse grabbed your arm and led you outside. 

“So,” you started when she stopped under a tree and sat there. “Do you know what you’re going to wear?”

“No. Do you?”

“Uh obviously! I have the perfect outfit for Barbie. I actually planned this before coming here, minus the ‘going to camp half-blood’ cause I didn’t think I’d end up here. It’s all pink, and cute and oh, should I also do my nails? Should we do our nails all pink?” you beamed at the idea.

“No.”

“True, yours do look very good in black,” you nodded. “Oh, we could cosplay Barbie and Raquelle. But it’s not going to be accurate, Raquelle hates Barbie.”

“I think it’s pretty accurate,” she shrugs. 

You slapped her arms playfully before laying your head on her lap. The weather was nice, the sun was out and the leaves were shading you from it, the perfect combination for you to take a nap. And then Clarisse started to run her fingers on your arm which made it for you. You were asleep in no time.

“Wake up sunshine,” Clarisse pinched you lightly on the hip. You jerked awake. 

“What?” you mumbled, standing up. 

“I have to meet up with my brothers and sisters for the next Capture the Flag strategy.”

“Can I come too?” you yawned. 

“We’re not on the same team, remember.”

“I won’t tell them anything.”

“Nope,” she walked away, “don’t follow me,” she turned around, walking backwards. 

I’d follow you everywhere you go Clarisse La Rue. 

“I won’t,” you said instead. 

The night before the date, you laid out your outfit neatly before washing up to go to bed. Cornelia was your bunkmate, with the bed above yours. But before going to sleep, you loved updating each other’s day. 

“So tomorrow huh,” Cornelia sat on your bed. “I never thought I’d live to see Clarisse being friendly with anyone other than her siblings.”

“I think she’s funny.”

“Sure, if funny was a synonym of mean. Wait– do you even have money to spend on tomorrow’s activities?” 

“Actually I do. Mr. D did tell me he wouldn’t give me any, and thank gods I found a load of cash in my backpack. My mom gave it to me. I mean she did write it was for any expense that I would have to make on my way home, but I have other priorities.”

“Clearly,” she rolled her eyes, laughing. “You’re gonna regret this in August.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Like before any exciting day, it took some time to fall asleep. Anxiety and excitement mixing together, making up the worst and best scenarios. What if Clarisse is just messing with you and forgot? That can’t happen, you just saw her a few hours ago talking about it. What if you annoyed her so much with it, she’d stood you up? What if she doesn’t like everything you planned? Not a single positive and happy ‘what if’ comes to your mind. 

“Wake up!” someone shakes you awake. “It’s 8 already, you're going to be late!” Cornelia said. 

“Fuck!” you ran to the washroom. 

You rushed through your routine, before rushing back to your bed and grabbed your outfit, and put it on. And all of that only took 28 minutes. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a final check up, before opening the door. Clarisse was already there. Her curls free, just like the first time you saw her. It felt weird not seeing her in her usual orange tee, but she still looked pretty. She wore a simple short brown tank top with blue faded jeans, with her beaded necklace still hanging from her neck.

“You look really pretty today,” Clarisse smiled shyly, holding her arms around her.

“Thanks,” you approached her, putting your hands on her arms and leaned in, “you look pretty every day.”

“Don’t come home too late,” Lee interrupted, appearing just next to you. 

“Don’t worry, but also don’t wait up!” 

You grabbed Clarisse’s hand and dragged her away from your cabin. A taxi was waiting for you outside of the camp, and in no time you were at the local theatre in the middle of nowhere. And lucky for you, the people of this town weren’t going to see the 9:30am slot for Barbie. Except for that one couple sitting in the back. You dragged Clarisse in the middle, and sat with the popcorn and sodas. You ate in silence, watching the trailers. 

Well that was not fun. The worst ‘what ifs’ from last night came back immediately making you anxious. It was not supposed to be like this. What if she wasn’t enjoying herself. What if she was mad because she ate a salty popcorn when you asked for the sweet ones. What if she was disappointed—

“Ouch,” you looked at her, frowning, rubbing your arm. “Why did you do that?”

“You were ignoring me.”

“What? Oh I– I didn’t hear sorry.”

“I asked you, what’s the deal with Barbie anyway? Why are you so excited about a blonde, white, plastic doll?”

“W– Barbie is not– ok. She is a plastic doll, and she may not look like us but it’s the idea of Barbie, the idea that us women can be anything we want. And how in Barbie Land, it’s all about girls and women being able to be whoever they want, and have whatever jobs they want. Barbie is literally a doctor, a pilot, a model, a chef, a fashion designer, a business woman, a teacher – she has every job in the world. And there is no one telling her that she can’t do that because she’s not a man. And also, the Barbie franchise is my childhood. The movies, they deserve an Oscar honestly–,” you stopped. “Sorry, I talk too much.”

“I asked,” her attention went back to the screen. “So did you have any barbies?”

“Of course! I had Barbie's dreamhouse, and so many barbies and outfits. I’m surprised I didn’t end up being a writer with all my imagination. Did you?”

“No.”

“No?”

“My mom wasn’t the kind to buy me anything. And certainly not dolls.”

“Oh.”

“Don’t feel sad for me, I’m fine,” she gave you a quick glance.

“I’m not!” you frowned. “So you never watched Barbie and A Christmas Carol? The best Barbie movie ever?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, we have to change that. Mmh. But phones and laptops aren’t allowed though… Maybe if I bring my mom’s DVD player next summer.” 

“Already planning on your next move to woo me?” she teased, approaching you. 

Your eyes widened, your cheeks were hot.

“I– No! I– I– I don’t.”

“Relax sunshine, I’m kidding,” she laughed. 

And just then, the lights went out and the movie was about to start, thank the gods. Because you did not know what to say. The movie was incredible, you shed a few tears at the end, and sang Dance The Night with Clarisse laughing and cheering you on. It was a great experience, and it was even better to have watched it with Clarisse. 

“Did you like it?” you asked her when the credits started rolling.

“Yes. It was great.”

“And you’ll love the other Barbie movies because they are way less depressing.”

“So, what’s next?” she stood up.

“It’s almost time to eat, what do you want?”

“Whatever you want.”

“No you choose, I insist,” you smiled.

Really you were just very indecisive. Clarisse settled for a burger place not too far away from the cinema. There weren't many people inside, so you were able to choose where to sit – a table next to the window. It was a booth seat, so you had your own booth each, facing each other, menu in hand. 

“So, what are you choosing?” you asked her.

“I’ll take the Highwayman. You?”

“The Roadhouse looks good.”

Clarisse raised her hand and weaved at the waitress, when you grabbed her hand. 

“Wait!”

“What?”

“Can you order for me please?”

She furrowed her brow, but nodded. You smiled. You only waited ten-or-so minutes before the waitress came back with your food. Like always, you checked the inside of your burger before eating it, you picked out the onions and the tomato. 

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t like these.”

“Couldn’t you have asked the waitress to take them out.”

“No…”

“Give me your tomato then,” she opened her burger bun.

You were the one entertaining lunch. Clarisse asked questions about your life and you told her – you told her stories about your childhood, your school, your mom and she listened, nodding along. Once you were done, you took a cab and decided to go to the mall. 

“We don’t have any money,” Clarisse stopped you when you were going to step into the mall. 

“I do. Remember I paid for the tickets, and the food.”

“Yeah, but I thought you only had enough for these.”

“Nope. Well, remember how I said my mom is an opera singer. It was you fifty percent talent and fifty percent nepotism and generational wealth. Meaning I’m rich, I mean my mom but her love language is sending me money for not raising me,” you joked.

She stared at you, concerned. 

“I’m kidding,” you grabbed her hand, “let’s shop.”

Clarisse refused to accept anything you’d set eyes on for her. 

“Well, at least try on some of them, just to see.”

She agreed to it, which was a mistake because now that you knew her size, you could buy her everything she laid eyes on. She was trying on this dark green simple long sleeve tee shirt, and after she put it back, you took it with you.

“What are you doing?” she tried to grab the tee shirt back. 

“I might want it for myself!” you hid it behind your back. 

‘Doesn’t look like something you’d wear.”

“My style changes, it depends on my mood. Maybe I want us to have matching clothes.”

“Then why is there only one in your hand?”

You quickly grabbed another one. And then it was settled. You’d buy her things and then another copy for you – everything went, from boots to tee shirts to pants, and jackets. Then you went to a jewellery shop. You needed new rings because yours flew away from your hands during the last Capture the Flag – they were obviously a tad too big. 

“Did you find anything you like?” you asked her. 

“No, they aren't the most useful things to have.”

You pouted, and threw a bunch on the table. 

“What are you doing?”

“Putting these back on the shelves, cause I chose half of these for you,” you sighed dramatically. 

“Oh,” she took a look at the jewellery. 

Various rings and bracelets.

“They’re great, I love them.”

“No you don’t.”

“You picked them out so yes, I do.”

“You don’t have to, it’s fine,” you sighed. 

“Maybe you don’t have to buy all of it, just one of each.”

You nodded, and picked one ring for her, and two bracelets for each of you. You gave them to the seller to wrap them and left to look at other items. Clarisse soon joined you and soon enough the seller gave a little bag, you paid and left. Your hands were full of shopping bags, and before leaving you needed a little bit of rest so you two sat on the chairs in the resting area. Thankfully the mall wasn’t too crowded as it was still early in the afternoon on a random Tuesday. 

“Huh!” you gasped pointing at something behind Clarisse.

“What?” she turned around swiftly, not seeing any threat. 

“A photobooth!” you smiled.

You stood up, grabbed all of your bags and walked to the booth, hoping Clarisse was following you. You turned around, and Clarisse was still sitting still, legs crossed, leaned into the chair, staring at you. You held your hands together, and motionned her to come. She didn’t move for a good minute, but seeing how you weren’t going to move, she caved in and stood up. 

“Sunshine,” she put her hands on your shoulders, “you can look at me for free, I won’t charge you, don’t worry.” 

You rolled your eyes, smiling. 

“You’ll thank me in a few years because of this. Pictures are the best kind of souvenirs.”

Clarisse got in first, the space was a tight fit, and you were glued to Clarisse, but you two fit in the frame so it was good. You put the coins inside, and waited for it to take the picture. But that was not good enough for Clarisse – she put her arm around your waist and scooped you onto her lap.

“Better?” 

You nodded, staring at her. 

“Better,” you confirmed. 

You went to take a pose but too late, the four pictures were already taken. 

“It’s fine, we’ll take another one.”

Another turned into another few more and you ended with a ton of pictures. By the time you left the mall it was already pretty late. Almost time to go home. But neither of you wanted that, so you went to the beach instead – main beach in the east. It was empty – people at this hour were all eating. You two sat on the sand, far from the shore. 

“Did you have a great time?” you asked.

“Yes,” she looked at you, “did you?”

You nodded enthusiastically. 

“Aren’t you glad you lost that bet against me?”

“Mmh,” she shrugged, “my option would’ve been just as good for me.”

“Well, I am glad I won. I prefer this option much better.”

Clarisse started to lay down but you grabbed her arm. 

“Sand will get in your hair.”

“I’ll wash it tonight, it’s fine.”

You shook your head, and took off your blouse and laid it on the sand, behind Clarisse. She tried to protest, but you were quicker. 

“I don’t want this day to end,” you admitted, staring at the waves. “I don’t think Mr. D will give us another authorisation anytime soon,” you laughed. 

Clarisse stared at you, not saying anything. You arrived at camp only a week ago, and yet you two were already closer than she was with any of her siblings. You were nice to her, always rooting for her, and you were a great friend. Not many people were these things to the Ares kids. 

“There this field trip around October,” Clarisse sat up again, “I suppose you’re not staying around the whole year. But it’d be great if you could come.”

“A field trip? To where?”

“It’s something we do once a year at camp,” she explained. “A trip to Olympus.”

You thought about it. 

“Are you asking me to meet your father? I didn’t think we were already at this stage so early on."

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue fanfic #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue #clarisse x reader

[ztarduzted]

So like the Illymation drama????

vile take I support illy like fully I don’t get the people who don’t rn

So like ok ok don’t get me wrong, illy isn’t like perfect 100% by any means but who is??? That one carrot and chocolate thing she said in her video could have been worded better but cmon, it’s really not that big of a deal, for the most part you out understand what she was saying. The video that TBYS posted wasn’t “criticism” the way that people are trying to say it was. People are trying to play it off as just a normal constructive criticism video, but if your “constructive criticism” includes like two whole minutes of making fun of someone’s appearance for no reason, I’m concerned. Illy’s response was a bit immature, but I understand where she’s coming from. She said not to send hate and to just take down that one video, not his whole platform, because it was damaging her reputation and mental health because TBYS never even tried to make a statement telling people not to harass illy and she got sent hate for it. People are blowing it way out of proportion saying she was trying to “deplatform him” when she just wanted one video taken down because it was causing her to be deplatformed, and she never even talked about it to her actual YouTube audience, just the small community on tumblr, then TBYS made two more hate filled videos and people just kept dog piling on her. If your gonna get mad at someone for “deplatforming” a known homophobe and transphobe, maybe practice what you preach. And alongside that, I know that some sources were shown in TBYS’s original videos, but there were no links in the descriptions, and absolutely nothing in any of the response videos I’ve seen. There was one video I saw just speculating that all of her doctors were dumb and lied to her, and TBYS also said that most doctors that specialize and make money from being good at nutrition were just wrong. Also, that one response video I mentioned tried to claim gym bros were better at health than licensed professionals???????? It just feels like this is all a massive, overblown hate campaign to a creator because of mistakes. There’s a difference between constructive criticism and just making fun of someone, and while some things that TBYS said were understandable, he made a point to straight up make fun of illy in the middle of his video, not even attempt to stop his fans from harassing illy, then when she replied (and barley received any backlash mind you), he blew up making more videos sending more and more hate and trying to ruin illy’s career. I know illy could have clarified that one point in her video and acted more maturely about the situation, but people are entirely overlooking the fact that TBYS was no where near “perfect” in this situation. (Also, final note, yes, you can absolutely be fat and healthy, saying otherwise is just wrong and makes no sense. Do your research before making half hour long videos making fun of someone)

I assume this drama will just die eventually and people will move on, but either way, I’m going to continue watching and supporting Illy no matter what. She’s a fantastic content creator, and when that video first came out (and there wasn’t some dude bro on the internet telling me it was bad) I absolutely loved at and had a great time watching it. It made me feel really good about myself (since I’ve been exercising daily and been working on myself a lot, but I’ve seen little to no weight loss despite eating healthy and going on a calorie deficit and working hard. It turns out I have something up with my thyroid, and along with that, part of it is just genetics.) I’d started feeling really bad and was trying to eat the bare minimum and it was making it harder to work out and I was feeling sick all the time. One day I was staying home because I felt sick, and I watched illy’s video. It’s not like one video is going to fix my relationship with food, but it has helped. I’m still not losing weight, but I’m getting stronger, feeling better, and eating healthier. Despite all this drama, illy’s videos have helped me feel more comfortable being myself and I will continue supporting her. And Illy, if you’re (somehow) seeing this, just know that there are some people that want to see you fail, but there are so so many more people that love you and your content.

#illymation #drama #youtube drama #rant #tw fatphobia

[g3z0]

Scared to love P1

this is a Nick sturniolo x MALE reader.

English isn’t my first language btw so I’m sorry if it sucks 🙏🏻

will probably be a series

Summary: You and Nick are best friends since childhood days. He doesn’t know that you like guys, let alone that you like him. You try to ignore your feelings, also because of your homophobic family. But it’s harder than you thought.

warnings: cursing, mentions of homophobia, mentions of toxic household

- g3z0

„get your fucking dirty shoes off my dashboard.“ I say to Nick while my hand reaches out to the passenger seat and I press his feet down.

He lets out an annoyed groan while he leans his head back on the headrest of the passenger seat. „They’re not even that dirty.“ He says while he looks over to me.

I glare at him „I don’t care. I told you a hundred times.“ I sigh and look away.

„how about you stop whining and bitching and you let me eat my food in my peace?“ he sniggers as he takes a sip from his soda.

I roll my eyes playfully and chuckle a little, leaning back in my seat, looking over at him.

I don’t know when I started to feel like this around Nick. My heart beats really fast, I get a little nervous, I try my best to make him laugh to see his beautiful smile, I want to be near him and touch him so bad.

And I hate it.

It wasn’t always like this. It wasn’t like this when we were kids, it wasn’t like this when we sat next to each other every morning on the school bus and it shouldn’t be like this now.

But I can’t help myself. There is just something about him that drives me fucking insane.

The way he talks with such a confidence, the way he doesn’t give a fuck what other people think of him, the way he isn’t scared to show others who he is.

I wish I would be more like Nick.

Because I’m scared. Scared what other people might think of me. And I’m not a 100% sure about it either. I don’t know if I’m gay. I liked girls too in the past - I think so.

I guess not everyone can be themselves. I probably have to hide it till the day I die because if my family would find out my dad would probably be-

„y/n?“ Nicks voice pulls me out of my thoughts.

„hm?“ I mumble as I raise my eyebrows, looking at him.

A smile curls up from the edges of his lips as he looks at me.

That fucking smile.

„you listening?“ He asks as he tilts his head a little to the side.

I sigh a little and nod a little „yeah, of course.“

„Then what did I say?“ He presses his lips together as he watches my facial expression.

I pause and let out a little laugh, rubbing my fingers over my eyes. „Uhm.. something about school..“ I look at him and see that he raises his eyebrows.

I smile „about Matt and Chris..?“ I laugh.

„you weren’t listening!“ He laughs and slaps my arm playfully

„Owh!“ I whine sarcastically and rub my hand over the spot he slapped. „Then what did you say?“ I mumble as I smile at him

He shakes his head a little „Party. Tomorrow.“ He grabs his Mc Donald’s cup and takes a sip out of it.

I groan and close my eyes, laying my hands in my face. „I don’t know if I’m going Nick.“

„oh, you‘re going to.“ he laughs „you can’t expect me to go there alone with Chris and Matt.“ He takes another sip out of the straw.

I look at him and take a quick glance to his lips. It feels illegal how soft his lips look. The way his pink lips wrap around the straw.

Fuck.

I clear my throat and look out of the window, sighing. „Just ask Madi.“ I mumble and bite down on my tounge.

„I did!“ nick said „she can’t come, so please y/n, don’t let me go alone.“ I feel his glare on me.

I close my eyes and sigh a little. „you know Chris and Matt will be gone the second we step into the party.“ he continues.

I turn my head to look at him and he almost has a desperate look in his eyes.

Why can’t I ever say no to him?

I smile softly and nod a little „okay, okay.. stop whining.“ I mumble as I start the egine of my car.

He smiles widely and hums happily „I love you.“ He says as he pulls his phone out and scrolls through our Spotify playlist to pick a new song.

„sure you do.“ I roll my eyes a little but can’t help but to smile.

I start to drive to nicks house and we stay silent the drive to his place, just listening to music.

I park in front of his house and turn the music down.

He unbuckles his seatbelt and looks at him with a smile while he opens the passenger door and pushes it open.

„wait-" I say as I reach my hand on the backseat, pulling out a hoodie.

I hold the hoodie out to him „Madi forgot it last time.“ I say as I wait for him to grab the hoodie.

Nick looks down at the hoodie and grabs it slowly, then he looks in my eyes again.

„why did Madi forgot her hoodie in your car?“ he asks as he raises an eyebrow.

I look at him for a few seconds. Am I tripping or does he sound a little.. pissed off? Annoyed?

I lick my lips a little and smirk a little at him. „What? Jealous?“ I tease him.

He scoffs and looks away „no.“

I hum and nod a little „sure you aren’t, buddy.“

„was just curious. Didn’t know you and Madi hang out alone.“ He gets out of the car.

I watch him and raise my eyebrows a little „I drove her home after the last party. Because Matt was drunk and I was the only one who wasn’t drinking.“ I remember him.

He laughs a little „right.“ his hand reaches over to my hair and he ruffles a little through it.

I laugh a little and squeeze my eyes shut. „Nick-"

„good night, y/n.“ he smiles before he lets go off me and slams my car door shut.

„hey! Don’t slam the door like that!“ I yell after him as I throw my hands up.

He laughs and lifts his hand up, showing me his middle finger as he walks into his house.

I smile as I watch him disappear. I let out a breathe I didn’t know I was holding and lean my forehead against the steering wheel of my car.

I close my eyes and bite my inner cheek.

„fuck.“ I mumble to myself.

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Aita for telling my mom not to invite grandma to my dead dad’s birthday dinner?

For context, my (19M) dad (44M) died in January of ‘24. He was a dick and I don’t miss him, but he was my mom (46F)’s husband and I’ve been there for her through the grieving process. Unfortunately, Mom’s mother (80F) has taken over my mom’s grief and has made it about her.

For what I mean, it’s that Grandma wouldn’t let my mom stand next to my dad as he was dying in the hospital bed from jaundice and cancer, was praying very loudly that her son-in-law would get better and putting her hands all over my dad’s chest, kept comparing what my dad was going through to how her 7th husband died back in ‘09 (also cancer but not the same), and overall was just obnoxious during the worst moment of my Mom’s life.

This isn’t a new thing for grandma to do. Grandma is just a dick. She’s openly racist against Asian people, she’s stupidly Homophobic (but not towards me because I’m family and I’m ber favoritr grandkid because I’m not afraid to talk smack about people who get on my nerves. barf.), and any achievement that my Mom receives, Grandma has a story about how she won something even better.

It has gotten worse when my Mom’s dad (85M) moved in with us for health reasons. Grandpa was Grandma’s 3rd husband and their marriage didn’t end amicably. Still, it’s been 40 years and Mom wants a relationship with her dad. Grandma HATES him. Constantly yelling at him for forgetting things when she comes over, brags about being there for us grandkids (I have two younger sisters) when we were little, and overall is just plain rude. My dad used to be able to just tell her to leave, but now that he’s gone, he can’t.

Well, last week would have been my dad’s 45th birthday. Mom wanted to celebrate by taking me and my youngest sister (the older sister just moved out for college and is across the country) to Dad’s favorite restaurant. As we were leaving, Mom was stressing very heavily about not inviting Grandma or Grandpa. She stressed about Grandpa because he often forgets to eat dinner and she stressed about Grandma because the old bitch has flamed my mom on Facebook for not being invited to events before, even though my mom knew that Grandma wouldn’t like those events (think late night soccer games, plays where I’m not a main role/has an 18+ theme, etc. stuff an old Christian woman who hates driving at night would hate)

I told Mom not to invite either grandparent and that the three of us (me, Mom, and little sister) should just go alone and enjoy some immediate family time. We did and we had a great time, talking with my little sister about her high school classes, talking shit about my mom’s coworkers, and me getting to infodump about Fallout because my mom just watched the tv show.

Towards the end of the night, my Mom gets a text from Grandma asking what we were up to for Dad’s birthday. I tell Mom not to answer and she doesn’t. Grandma then sends Mom a screenshot of the family Life360 map and starts sending walls off texts saying how hurt she is that she wasn’t invited, how neglected she is, how awful it is that she can’t spend time with the grandkids anymore, how Mom always prioritizes Grandpa over Grandma (he wasn’t even with us?) and shit like that. I take Mom’s phone and block Grandma for her since she’s sitting next to me, frozen and locked-up.

It’s been a week now and we haven’t spoken to Grandma. That’s fine by me, but I can see that my Mom is upset and regrets how the dinner went.

Here’s where I may be the asshole:

I was the one who said not to invite Grandma

I was the one who blocked Grandma

I butted my head into my Mom and Grandma’s relationship

Here’s why I think I’m not:

My mom has never been good at standing up for herself

My mom shouldn’t have to deal with this bullshit while grieving her fucking husband of 22 years

Not everything is about Grandma. She inserts herself into everything needlessly

TL;DR: Dad died. Went to dinner with my mom and sister to celebrate his birthday. Grandma found out and bitched a fit that she wasn’t invited. I took mom’s phone and blocked her. Now mom is stressing about losing her relationship with grandma. Aita?

#aita #am i the asshole

[silverjirachi]

i said it in the tags but i really need to say it out here. cecil palmer was so important to me. there are people on this website now young enough who don’t know who he is, who don’t know how important WTNV was to anyone gay and on this website in 2012, and that’s okay, but i want to put this in circulation because those of you who don’t know genuinely deserve to know.

the world we live in now is very, very different than the world we lived in even just ten years ago. It was not that long ago, I cannot emphasize this enough. Cecil Palmer was canonically gay in a well-known podcast in 2012. He openly and lovingly talked about his crush and eventual partner and it was never once treated as a joke. That was unheard of in 2012. Gay marriage was not even legalized in the United States until 2015 and it felt like we were on thin ice the entire time. We still are. But there just straight up werent any visibly gay characters in popular media who weren’t either side characters, died, or were treated as jokes. Cecil Palmer was voiced by a gay and HIV-positive man who also had a lot of say in the way he was portrayed. That is why he was so real, that is why he was so genuine.

And that meant. So much.

We still struggle to have that kind of representation today, and we saw it in 2012.

For those of you who don’t know who Cecil Palmer is, I’m not asking you to vote for him. But I am trying to tell you what he means to the people who were your age on this website in 2012, and why so many people are voting for him now. We were scared, and starved for that representation, and felt alone. To me, at least, and to many others, Cecil was hope.

In fact, Cecil was such a lovingly-made and genuine representation of gay love, specifically, that my mother, who to this day is still pretty homophobic and is deeply religious, would text me updates about cecil and carlos’ relationship. She was happy for them. My “keep it out of my face” mother was happy for cecil and carlos and was excited to hear their updates. THAT is what WTNV meant, and I still think of that moment sometimes when I need love, when I need hope, and when I am feeling alone.

And if you do want to see that kind of representation (that ran its full course!! and wasn’t cancelled or rushed prematurely!!!) then I highly recommend you do check out Welcome to Night Vale eventually. It was one of the first podcasts to ever get big, in fact arguably podcasts wouldn’t be what they are today without it, and it is such a funny and beautiful and unique little thing about daily life in the weirdest eldtrich horror town in the middle of fucking nowhere.

#tumblr sexymen poll #cecilsweep #tumblr sexyman rematch #sans #cecil palmer #wtnv

[unfinishedslurs]

stobin kidnapped- no upsidedown

Robin doesn’t know why she comes out to Steve Harrington of all people. 

It could be the drugs. It could be the way he’s been pretty good-natured about her ribbing all summer. It could be the fact that they’ve bonded, painfully and irreversibly, in the last 24 hours in a way she never has with anyone else and hopefully never will. It could be that she’s almost certainly going to die in this tiny, awful basement, and Steve fucking Harrington’s shitty homophobic spiel won’t matter because they’ll be dead. 

Tammy Thompson won’t matter, either. She’ll never, ever look at Robin now. Probably won’t even think about her as she cries over Steve Harrington’s tragic fate. 

“Have you ever been in love?”

They’re pressed back to back next to the hole that serves as their toilet, even if they’re not tied together that way anymore. Something about being able to see from all angles is comforting. No surprises. 

It also means she doesn’t have to see Steve’s face when he tells her how amazing this new girl is.

“Robin?” He asks when she doesn’t respond. “You OD on me?”

“I’m alive,” she confirms. Unfortunately. 

Nope, too soon to be making jokes about wishing she were dead when there’s a high possibility she ends up dead before she gets out of here. 

Steve’s presence leaves her back, and she almost panics before she realizes he’s scooting backwards until he can meet her eye. She scoots back until her back hits the wall, and he does the same. 

“This floor’s disgusting.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” he points out. “What do you think?”

“About?”

“This girl.” Why are his eyes so big? Is it the drugs in her system making her hallucinate again? Some great, cosmic consequence for being the kind of girl who can’t fall in love with this apparently amazing guy who protected her the best he could? She feels like she’s going to vomit again.

Eventually their singing dies down, and they exist in comfortable silence for a moment. 

It’s Steve who breaks it. “You know Jonathan Byers?”

“Didn’t he punch you and steal your girl?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I lied.”

“About what?”

“Only ever having been in love with Nancy.”

She blinks at him, squinting in concentration until he shifts uncomfortably and she gasps. “No,” she says. 

“‘No’ what?”

“You were not in love with Jonathan Byers.”

“Okay, yeah, I wasn’t in love with him,” he protests, squirming. “But, like, he’s cool, right?”

“No!” She exclaims. “No, he’s not cool, Steve. I can’t believe you made fun of me for Tammy, at least she didn’t give me a concussion!” 

“I deserved that concussion,” he protests. “Besides, it was a tiny one! That was, like, nothing compared to what Billy gave me.” Or the one he probably has right now, but neither of them point that out. 

“He stole your girlfriend.”

“Why do you keep saying that? There was no stealing anything. Nancy’s a human being, with, like, agency and shit.”

“Didn’t he take naked pictures of you guys?”

“What?” He sounds alarmed. “Is that what you heard?”

“Did he not?”

“Well…”

She laughs, disbelieving. 

“He apologized!” He says. “And he’ll never do it again, and I broke his camera for it anyway, so I kind of got retribution. Maybe too much retribution. I cannot overstate how much I deserved that beat down, I was an asshole to him.”

“God, you are not helping your case at all,” she giggles. He pouts at her, until he starts giggling too, and then they’re both laughing their asses off on the shitty basement floor until they lose their breath. 

They get lucky, she’s told while they’re in the hospital for smoke inhalation and a dozen other things. They were only in that basement for 24 hours until the police (re: Dustin and Erica) found them. It felt like a lifetime. 

She gets to sign out after six hours. Steve has to stay for two days. 

The nurses have to practically boot her out the door before she’ll leave his side. 

“I’m fine, Rob,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’ve had worse.”

“I sure hope not!” The nurse exclaims as she’s checking over the monitor. “Young man, you are suffering from a Grade 3 concussion, bruised and broken ribs, smoke inhalation, multiple lacerations—“

“Jesus, okay, we get it!”

She gives him a scathing look before sweeping out of the room. Robin raises her eyebrows. “You’re fine, huh?”

The look he gives her could kill a lesser man. “Go home, Robin.”

“I’m staying the night.”

“You’re definitely not doing that.”

#stobin #no upside down #stobin kidnapped-no upsidedown au #steve harrington #robin buckley #sorry to jonathan for the slander i promise i love you #jonathan was steve's bisexual awakening truthing #stranger things fanfic #season 3 au

[kscheibles]

e la vita ch. 1

content warnings: f! reader, drug mentions, drinking, emetophobia, bisexuality (homophobes and biphobes begone I will block u so fast)

word count: 3.8k

I didn’t want to be in Italy this summer.

That makes me sound ungrateful or something, but it’s the truth. Three months ago, I had planned to stay in Brooklyn with Claire all summer long. Hosting dinner parties, eating greasy breakfast sandwiches, dancing to old $1 records in our cramped apartment, picnicking in Prospect Park, and being totally, delusionally in love.

That was before things went south, she stopped trying and left me with more rent than I could possibly pay in the city. When Christina had first mentioned that a group of her friends was headed to Italy for the summer, I’d dismissed the possibility of going with them. Not only did I dread cohabitating with her wealthy, influencer friends who seemed to deal only in clout, I thought I’d be otherwise engaged. Weeks later, I’d gone back to her groveling, asking if I could sleep on the pull-out couch in Nina’s family villa for the summer. Luckily, the sofa was still available.

Now I sit at a wrought iron table – lease broken and all of my belongings sold to wealthy Manhattanites – in the warm yellow light of the Lombard sunset. Around me are chatty, outgoing girls, each more beautiful than the last. They gab about clubs and brands and boys. In the sea of Botox and iPhones, I cling to Christina like a life buoy. I push my tortellini around my plate to make it look like I have an interest in food, but I really don’t. I’m jet-lagged and uncomfortable. And even if that wasn’t the case, I’ve barely eaten since the breakup, relying on oat lattes and dirty water dogs to keep me alive.

“Try the pasta,” Christina jabs, “trust me, you’ll have a lot more fun this summer if you lean in.” I break the shell open with my fork revealing succulent ricotta curds and bright green spinach. The filing swims in a sauce of brown butter and fragrant tarragon but doesn’t affect me as it should. Nothing does anymore. The group’s conversation interrupts my train of thought.

“They’ve come every summer since the nineties, same as us,” says Nina, smirking at the girl to her left. “Hottest little accents you’ve ever heard, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Who is she talking about?” I whisper to Christina.

“The boys in the other house,” she says, “the one you see on your way up here.” Nina’s family’s home is at a higher altitude than the rest of the city, necessitating a laborious hike to the bottom to actually do anything while in town. I’m sure that they’d been sold on the privacy of the location, but its impracticality left me wanting. The only other villa nearby sat at the base of the lush green hills before the road disappeared into winding dirt.

Another girl chimes in, “I saw them last year at a dinner in the city. They’re cute, too,” she coos. 

“I kissed George the summer I turned fifteen,” brags Nina and the whole table breaks into oohs and aahs. I usually have a shut-up-unless-spoken-to policy at group dinners, but I know Christitna is right. If I don’t lean in then the credit card debt I’d amassed to buy my plane ticket and the back problems I'm sure to contract from sleeping on a pull-out couch for a whole summer will have been for naught. Think of it as an acting exercise, I tell myself, a performance of the girl who is totally not hung up on her ex and excited for a fun summer with her friends. 

“I’m sorry,” I interrupt, “who are these guys?”

“They’re in a band,” says Nina.

“Like a real one?” I ask. Years of living in New York have taught me that all bands are not, in fact, real ones. Nina laughs.

“You’re funny,” she muses, “yes, a real one. They’re like famous. We’ll go over eventually, they throw the best parties you can find around here. Get real drugs, too. Not just liters upon liters of Aperol, not that I mind that either.”

With my question sufficiently answered, I return quietly to my pasta, cutting each shell into impossibly smaller pieces until it’s rabbit food that will glide down my throat and do the hard job of nourishing me without any work on my part.

–

After dinner, I tuck into the pull-out couch in the villa’s spacious living room. The lack of A/C and the balmy summer air make it impossible to enjoy the luxurious wool blankets Nina’s family no doubt splurged on. I allow myself to eavesdrop on the elated sounds coming from upstairs: women confiding in each other, commiserating about their troubles, and shrieking excitedly at each other's successes.

I first try to doze off at 10:15, hoping that an early night will be exactly what I need and I’ll wake up refreshed and on Italian time. After an hour of staring at the popcorn ceilings and trying to suppress my crippling fear of missing out, I’ve tired my mind out enough to begin slipping toward sleep. I have fewer and fewer thoughts until I’m jolted by a hip-hop bassline. It resonates through the trundle bed and rebounds off my ribs, cozying itself into my heart. As I begin to come to, I recognize the chords of a house track that used to play at the girl bar Claire and I frequented in Green Point. The melody is warm and familiar and undeniably annoying. How loud must the music be for it to affect me so acutely even as I’m a few kilometers away from them? 

I decide I’m pissed – and yes I decided. I’m freshly single, broke, jet-lagged, and fucking pissed at those entitled rich assholes. I slide my sandals on and head out down the hill in my sleep clothes.

-

I step outside onto the winding dirt road that leads the way to the boys’ home. The night is dark, lit by stars much brighter than I’m used to seeing in Brooklyn. I tilt my head back to look at them, trying to identify the big dipper. After a few seconds, I’m dizzy. I shake myself and trudge ahead, almost lulled into submission by the constant chirping of cicadas and the sweet fragrance of orange blossom that wafts off the bushes. 

With each step I take towards the boys’ villa (what were their names again? Nina said one was called George), the music, electronic and fast-paced, becomes louder. 

When I first knock on the faded wood door, I’m quite sure no one has heard me. I stand outside for a few minutes, contemplating whether I should knock again or cut my losses and return up the hill. I decide I may as well disrupt their party as some kind of karmic retribution for keeping me awake even as I’m exhausted from a transatlantic flight. I raise my fist and rap harshly at the door. A moment later, it flies open, revealing a curly-haired boy. Well, not boy, I decide as I inspect his features – lines decorate his forehead, and gray peeks out at me from within a ringlet that hangs over his eyes. He gives me a once over and can immediately tell I’m not here for the party. 

“Can I help you?” he asks, annoyed. His accent lilts and falls over the words. All of a sudden, I feel insecure in my braless and plaid pajama-clad state. He’s beautiful – and exasperated by me. I double down on my own annoyance. 

“Would you mind turning the music down?” I ask, still cordial, “I’m staying at the house up the way and I can’t get to sleep.”

The guy in front of me purses his lips and considers me for a moment. I feel itchy and uncomfortable. He’s looking at me like he can see through my clothes, to my soft hips and painted toes and peaked nipples. 

“Let me show you around, gorgeous,” he smiles, “then maybe you won’t mind so much.” He grabs my wrist and yanks me into the party. A warmth covers me as I cross the threshold into the villa. The inside of the home smells like college: cheap weed, sweet sticky mixers, and sweat. My sandals stick slightly to the floor, reminding me that I really shouldn’t be here right now. Like the alcohol that’s been spilled on the ground is some great cosmic interference to convince me to go home and get the rest I ought to. 

Suddenly, a big hand falls on the shoulder of the boy who’s pulling me by my limbs.

“Matty!” says the man. I can make out enough to see that he’s tall and devastatingly handsome. 

“George!” the boy – Matty, I remind myself – drops my hand and fully embraces the bigger guy. “Was just showing…” he nods at me to introduce myself.

“Y/n.”

“Around,” Matty finishes. George gives me a once over.

“Did she just roll out of bed? Or get released from prison?”

“Y/n came to ask us to keep the noise down,” Matty declares with fake sincerity, “Not a partier, are ya love?”

“Under the right circumstances, I can be,” I retort. Matty and George’s eyebrows raise in amusement, faces breaking out in smiles. That sounded much more cunning in my head. Now I feel like a toy they’re playing with, winding me up to see what noises I make. It feels infantilizing. I’m uncomfortable, crawling in my skin; pride battered and desperate to go home as soon as it doesn’t look like I’m running away from a fight of my own picking. “I’d better be going actually,” I assert.

Matty puckers his bottom lip in an exaggerated pout. “I’ll show you out, princess.” It’s a sweet nickname but it tastes bitter out of his mouth. He seems to twist everything good and make it unbearable. I resent him for it. I trudge in front of Matty towards the door with steadfast focus. As I cross the threshold, I turn to meet his gaze.

“Thanks for nothing,” I say calmly. Matty breaks into a devilishly smug grin. His eyebrows tilt a little and his lips reveal a few crooked teeth at the bottom of his mouth.

“My pleasure, darlin’,” he says. I scoff and turn on my heels, leaving Matty in the dust.

–

The scent of freshly chopped garlic fills the kitchen as I stand in an assembly line of young women with cutting boards and chefs knives, each diligently chopping an ingredient for the bruschetta. 

In front of me is a bunch of basil, perfectly fresh and green. I gently remove the leaves from the stem and create a pile in the middle of my board. It reminds me of when I would be tasked with raking the leaves as a kid. Too distracted by my childish whims, I would create more work for myself by piling the leaves on top of each other and taking a grandiose dive into them before scooping them up into a trash bag and discarding them. Each leaf was like a piece of confetti, a celebration of the season and of youth. Now I do these things to prove to myself that I’m young and that I can still conjure up that imaginative, playful nature if I try hard enough. 

As I rock my knife back and forth over the soft leaves, Christina asks me where I was the night before. 

“I came out around eleven to invite you upstairs, but I couldn’t find you,” she says.

Embarrassed, I train my eyes to the task at hand. This is not the group to look like a tattle-tale in front of. Actually, there’s very few groups in which that would fly. My penchant for playing God and divvying out karmic consequences to everyone whose path I cross is a part of my nature I’m not particularly fond of. I’m not keen to share it, especially around people who are still making up their minds about me. Despite my steadfast beliefs and borderline-outlandish behaviors, I maintain a fervent desire to be liked. It’s pathetic. 

“I stepped out for some air,” I murmur.

“Really?” she nudges, “Because I didn’t see you on the porch.”

I turn my basil bunch 90 degrees in a flourish, beginning to chop it lengthwise. 

“Fine, I couldn’t sleep because of the music,” I spit.

“And…” Christina has always been too good at getting me to reveal my true feelings. She goads me torturously until it’s easier to say what I’m thinking than to conceal it.

“And I went to ask them to turn the music down,” I finish, “There, are you happy?”

“Very,” she smiles. 

I pick up the chopped basil, letting the pieces float through my fingers and deciding I need to chop them smaller, still. I whack at the pile haphazardly, ruining the lovely squares I meticulously crafted earlier. 

“They didn’t turn it down, if you were wondering,” I pant, “Pricks.” Christina chuckles to herself.

“No one ever does.”

–

The music of the club is omnipresent as I enter hand in hand with Christina. On my feet are heels too high to be comfortable, but the perfect lift to accentuate my calves. As soon as I cross the threshold, I drag Christina to the bartender, ordering two negronis. We idle by the bar for a moment and I take in my surroundings, savoring the bitter aftertaste of my drink and the waltz of the lights that flicker and cover the dancefloor with reverie. I listen to the synths and flourishes of the melody that envelop my senses. I hadn’t expected to like the music, but the DJ is spinning disco and it just feels right: the cold Italian aperitif, the funky basslines, and the tranquil nighttime air. I almost wish I’d left my phone at home. Nights like these aren’t compatible with phones anyway. The atmosphere feels like a relic of a bygone era, full of free love and intoxication. 

Nina and a friend of hers find Christina and me at the bar and run up to us with inebriated bravado. “You guys made it!” she squeals. Little does she know we were pre-gaming at the villa in anticipation of this exact moment. I couldn’t handle Nina while sober tonight, that much I was absolutely sure of. It also didn’t help that I was alone – for the first time in several years – in a romantic foreign country without the girl whom I still loved. As unhealthy as it was, alcohol made that reality hurt a bit less. Nina grabs my hands and leads Christina and me away from the bar. 

“I need to introduce you to the DJs!” Nina exclaims. I glance at Christina to communicate that no, I’m not particularly enthused at the prospect of meeting some Eurotrash guy whose head is shaved and whose torso is covered in Gucci logos. She returns the glance, silently begging me to behave. I relent.

Nina leads us around the side of the floor to some kind of dark stairwell. Rationally, I should be scared of being kidnapped but my drunken stupor inspires more carelessness than I would usually indulge in. I watch the sway of Christina’s hips and follow her like a lost puppy. Finally, we reach the top and the DJ deck is revealed. It’s shadowy and hazy. To the left is a corner booth with a straight couple making out in a way that really ought to be illegal in public. Past the lookout, laser lights flicker and sweep across the dancefloor, catching on the artificial fog and filling the air with psychedelic color. My eyes fall on the backs of two figures at the DJ booth, smoke rising above their heads. I can make out that one has headphones on and is faffing with the turntable while the other has their hands in the air and the small, flickering glow of a lit cigarette dancing around their figure. I’m dragged towards them by Nina who throws an arm around each of their necks in greeting. As soon as the one with the cig turns around, I catch his eyes.

It’s Matty. Selfish, arrogant Matty. I nod my head and flatten my mouth in a kind of recognition. The room is spinning from the alcohol and my skin is buzzing with discomfort. The bass of the music resonates in my ribs, teaching my heart how to beat. My mouth tastes salty and my knees feel weak. 

I’m running to the corner where I can see a bin. Tears prick at my eyes and my hair sticks to my sweaty forehead as I swiftly empty the contents of my stomach into the small trash can. I kneel on the rough carpet and brace myself on either side of the bin with my hands. Between heaves, I lift my head to shake my hair off the back of my neck. The cool air feels grounding, but I’m soon back with my head in the can. I feel a hand on the back of my head, wrangling my frizzy hair off of my shoulders. I gasp, looking back for the sisterly comfort of Christina’s bottomless, cerulean eyes. Instead, I find a pair of brown, honey-flecked irises: Matty’s. I’m reeling too severely to be upset or confused; I’m just grateful when he uses his free hand to sweep my damp bangs out of my face and nods at me.

“Go on,” he encourages, “better out than in.”

I bury my head in the bucket again. 

“Atta girl,” Matty coos in my ear. I can almost notice his hand rubbing circles on my back. Even when I’m quite sure I’m finished, I keep my head down for a moment savoring the last few seconds that I don’t have to look Matty in the eyes. Curse him for helping me. I wouldn’t know how to interact with him under normal circumstances, much less when he’s been nice to me – and watched me unceremoniously blow chunks into a bin.

“You feel better?” he asks. I lift my head tentatively, still scared another wave of nausea will hit me. 

“I think so, yeah,” I mumble. Matty searches my eyes for any warning sign that I’m still sick.

“Have you got a hair tie?” I instinctually fish in my jeans pocket for one, handing it to him. Slowly, he corrals my locks into a ponytail and secures it, fingers grazing the tops of my ears and making me shiver. I sit back against the wall with my legs splayed out in front of me, knees visibly carpet burnt from my previous position. Matty flops down beside me. He reaches out to touch the red, irritated skin. 

“You don’t need a doctor or something, do you?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I hiss when he applies a little pressure to my knee and shake his hands off me, “Why are you being nice to me?”

“When have I not been nice?”

“You wouldn’t turn the music down the other night,” I state. He smiles at me, eyes scrunching up until his pupils are totally obscured. 

“No one ever turns the music down,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Plus,” he adds, “I thought you were a buzzkill. Now I can see that’s not the case, sweetheart.”

“I can usually handle my drink better than this,” I protest, “And I’m also usually not a buzzkill.”

“I guess I don’t know anything about you, then,” he acquiesces, thinking for a moment, “Do you want to start over?”

“Sure, I’d like that,” I nod, smiling tipsily.

“So what’s caused you to be sick tonight?” Matty asks, leaning his head back against the wall. His hair is curled up in perfect ringlets and his skin glows golden even in the dim club light. He looks at me carefully, like his stare could hurt me. It could, I suppose. 

“Alcohol?” I say it like that should be obvious. His face wrinkles up again in a laugh I can vaguely identify as something that’s my fault. He looks pretty. I realize I want to make him do it again and again forever. I want to see the crinkles that grow at the sides of his eyes and the curl of his upper lip that reveals his boyishly crooked teeth.

“I figured as much. Anything in particular that drove you to drink?” I frown for a second, trying to remember. 

“My ex,” I say quietly.

“What’d he do?”

“Nothing,” I shake my head, “that’s the problem. She didn’t do anything.”

“When was that?”

“Two months ago?” My god, it’s already been two months.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs,  “that’s still fresh.” I shrug.

“It’s alright I guess. You just feel a little betrayed when someone stops trying. I thought that was the whole point of…” I trail off, gesticulating aimlessly with my hands, “love or whatever. To keep trying.”

“I get it,” he utters. 

“People stop trying with rockstars, too?” I tease. He smiles.

“How did you know that I’m a musician?”

“Well, first of all, I said rockstar–”

“Which I chose to ignore because it was sarcastic.” I roll my eyes.

“And second of all, the girls I’m staying with told me,” I finish. He nods in understanding.

“Well yeah,” he sighs pensively, “people stop trying with everybody. Even rockstars. If I’ve learnt anything in my life, it’s that giving up usually has more to do with them than it does with you.”

“You’re probably right, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less,” I argue.

“Nothing does. You just have to let it hurt for a while.”

We’re both quiet for a second. I catch a couple of bars of an Earth, Wind, and Fire song and hum along, content with the silence. I let my head fall onto Matty’s shoulder and he immediately turns his head to look at me.

“Oh fuck, sorry. Is this okay?” I ask, hand flying to my mouth “I know I just puked.”

“It’s okay,” he says, “I just didn’t think you would want to.”

“I want to,” I kiss his shoulder through the cotton of his white button-up shirt. He watches me the whole time as though he can’t quite compute what’s happening. Then he snaps back to his regular confident state.

“Let me know if you ever want to deal with your girlf– ex without drinking your feelings away…” he trails off, mouth meeting the crown of my head, “I’d love to show you around here sometime.”

“Okay,” I mumble, the alcohol, tiredness, and emotions beginning to get the better of me and coax me toward sleep.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” Matty grabs my hand from my lap and wraps it in his two larger ones, caressing my thumb and humming into my ear.

–

a/n: the next bit is written, but I am still writing the end. smut soon! x

#matty healy fanfic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy fluff #matty healy fanfiction #matty Healy

[lonesome-witching]

It's Just a Kiss

Sorry for the long wait but here is another prompt for you. This one was sent in anonymously, so thank you. I hope this sort of fit with what you had in mind when you said Nancy giving Robin her first kiss. At least I tried my best.

You can read previous prompt right here on ao3. Or you can send in a prompt of your own.

“What was your first kiss like?” 

The question had tumbled out before Nancy could think better of it. She had just gotten caught up in the conversation, the one where Robin kept making fun of Nancy for dating Steve, and she needed to retaliate. 

But it had been a stupid question. The second the words escaped her lips Nancy knew it was a stupid question. Because if Robin had had her first kiss then it wouldn’t have been a good one. It would have been with Tommy B or Mark Lewinsky during a game of spin the bottle. Or it would have been with Milton Bledsoe out of peer pressure from her friends from band. Or it would have been with Dash Montague when he came on to her, Nancy’s blood had boiled when Robin told her about that. But either way, Robin wouldn’t have liked it. Because Robin didn’t like boys. 

She had told Nancy a few weeks ago. It hadn’t really changed anything between them. They still hung out every Friday night after Robin’s shift, they still sat next to each other at the movie nights the kids forced them into, Nancy still went over to Family Video to hang out with her and Steve. Except it had changed everything. 

Because suddenly, Nancy looked at things differently. She started noticing the graffiti around the town, the vile words that painted Hawkins a special shade of homophobic. She started noticing the whispered remarks between girls and the shouted jokes between boys. And she hated all of it. She hated it even more when she noticed Robin noticing the comments, the way she would fold into herself as if she was trying to hide. 

Which is exactly why she hated herself for asking that stupid question. 

“I– uhm. I haven’t really had my first kiss yet.” Robin looked at her own lap, twisting her fingers around each other. 

It might have been the best answer Nancy could have gotten. But it still rubbed her the wrong way. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“No, it’s alright. It’s a normal question. I mean, it’s not that I’ve never wanted to kiss anyone. It’s just that no one really wanted to kiss me.” 

“No one?” Nancy probably shouldn’t have sounded as surprised as she did. 

“I mean, the people who did want to kiss me weren’t exactly my type.” 

“Does it bother you? That you haven’t had a first kiss yet?” It bothered Nancy. Maybe she should have just changed the subject. 

“A little. It’s not that big of a deal, I guess I hoped to get some experience in college but now that I’m not going–”

“Yet,” Nancy interrupted quickly. 

“Now that I’m not going yet, it does bother me a bit more. But it’s okay. It’s not like there is anything I can do about it.” 

“Do you want to kiss me?” It slipped out, just like the earlier question had. Somehow Nancy had lost control of her own mouth. 

Robin’s eyes widened in shock. “No– I mean, you are pretty– It’s– I– I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything. You’re my friend, I don’t want to ruin that.” 

“It would just be a kiss. It doesn’t have to ruin anything and at least then you won’t have to wait until you leave for college, whenever that will be.” 

“I– Uhm– I don’t know– What do you want me to say?” Robin finally looked up, as if she was hoping to see the perfect answer painted on Nancy’s face. Maybe it was, Nancy wasn’t sure. 

“Just the truth, do you want to have your first kiss?” 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Would you be okay with me being your first kiss?” 

“I don’t want to make–” 

Nancy pushed her finger against Robin’s lips. “That’s not what I asked.” 

“Yes.” Robin’s lips pressed against Nancy’s finger as she spoke. 

“Can I kiss you, Robin?” 

Robin made a soft noise as her eyes dropped to Nancy’s lips. “I might be a shit kisser. I have never done it before.” 

“That’s the whole point, that you’ve never done it before. And really, kissing isn’t all that hard, just follow my lead.” Nancy leaned in slowly, giving Robin the time to refuse, to ask for her to stop, to push her away. But Robin didn’t. She just sat frozen on Nancy’s bed, her eyes still glued to Nancy’s lips. “Close your eyes,” Nance whispered softly. 

She obeyed her own words as she pressed her lips against Robin’s. It felt… nice. Robin’s lips were soft and vaguely tasted of chocolate and sugar. Nancy started moving her lips. Slowly at first, allowing Robin to get used to it. But Robin’s lips mimicked the movements perfectly and Nancy couldn’t help but feel a soft tingling feeling in her lips. Her right hand grabbed at Robin’s shoulder, needing to hold onto something. 

It probably wasn’t supposed to feel like this, like she was drowning. Her mind was filled with a new type of fog and her body buzzed with some foreign feeling. 

She needed to pull away. 

But then Robin accidentally bit into Nancy’s bottom lip and Nancy softly whined. The hand on Robin’s shoulder slipped up into Robin’s hair, pulling her closer. She needed more. She needed to lick into Robin’s mouth, needed to push her hands under Robin’s shirt, needed to hear Robin moan her name. 

Nancy pulled away quickly, nearly tumbling off the bed. It was supposed to just be a kiss. It wasn’t supposed to leave her breathless and wanting. 

Robin’s eyes were still closed, a soft smile on her lips. She dropped down on Nancy’s pillow without opening her eyes. 

“So… What was your first kiss like?” Nancy asked, her eyes stuck on Robin’s kiss swollen lips. She really wanted to lean back in. 

Robin opened her eyes. “It was great. You are a wonderful kisser, Nance. I hope I wasn’t too bad.” 

“No, you were– You’re a natural, Robin.” Nancy dropped down next to Robin, watching as Robin’s eyes sparkled, hoping that she’d get to do it again.

#prompts #ronance #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #my work #stranger things #fanfic #robin x nancy #nancy x robin #ronance fic #ficlet #first kiss

[novalunosiss]

It’s almost been 24 hours since vol 2 came out and I’m still super pissed off, so here’s a list of everything wrong in volume 2.

Byler. Queerbait of the fucking century??? I would’ve been significantly less upset if they hadn’t advertised/marketed it so hard during pride month. And making the queer kid the sad gay vessel through which the straight couple thrives is nothing short of homophobic.

The deaths. They advertised this season as being particularly dangerous/full of death, which was a straight up lie. The only people who died were either antagonists or minor background characters, with the exception of Eddie (though it was extremely obvious from the start that he was canon fodder, much like Bob- despite how much I liked Eddie’s character, there was never a doubt in my mind that he wasn’t going to die.)

Max’s “death”. So I know I just did a section on the deaths but this one pissed me off so much I had to give it it’s own seperate section. Max’s “death” was a total copout. Don’t get me wrong, I love her character. But I wish she did die. Having someone die and be brought back to life is such a terrible, cliche, overused trope. It’s too safe of a choice. Where is the danger? I want to actually be scared that the characters I love might not make it out alive. And since when could El bring people back to life? That’s never been explored in the show before, making it completely out of place and confusing when watching the scene. Having Max die would’ve been impactful, and shown to the audience that any of the characters can die, not just new ones, or unimportant background ones. It would’ve raised the stakes! The scene where she “died” was heartbreaking and powerful, but then they negated that by bringing her back to life, rendering the scene pointless. They either should’ve actually genuinely killed her, or not have her “die” at all. Having that “in-between” sort of situation where she technically died, but came back to life (albeit in a coma) was super flaky, and imo, bad writing.

Speaking of bad writing, the time skip! This is genuinely one of the worst things I’ve seen implemented in the show. I generally don’t like time skips anyway, but at least the one at the end of s3 made sense. The main drama of that season was resolved, and they needed to show the Byers moving away. The time skip this season, however, made 0 fucking sense. The drama hadn’t been resolved, it just skipped like half of the climax and the entirety of the falling action, and went straight to the resolution (which wasn’t even a resolution at all). 2 days is a pretty big time skip to implement after skipping half the climax. What happened during those two days??? It was confusing as fuck, and none of the characters actions/behaviour during the “resolution” phase of the story made sense, maybe with the exception of Dustin and Lucas, who were shown to be grieving unlike almost everyone else. You’re telling me that Nancy, Robin and Steve just fought fucking Vecna, almost died, and some of their friends did die (if you count Max) and two days later they’re happily packing up a bunch of old belongings to donate, without a care in the world? And during that scene, there seemed to be little to no concern about Mike’s whereabouts from the entire Wheeler family until he actually showed up. They mentioned they’d been trying to contact them for days, but nothing about their demeanour beforehand implied concern.

The monologue. Need I even say more? It was cheesy, cringey, and made no narrative sense. The reasoning Mike gave for being unable to tell El he loved her was one of the stupidest reasons I’ve seen in media, ever. Where was the “amazing monologue” we were promised by the Duffers? That sure as hell isn’t what I’d call amazing. Finn is a great actor, and he’s done amazing monologues before (*cough cough*, the shed scene) so that isn’t on him, it’s on the shitty script. “I feel like my life first started when I met you in the woods”? Bullshit, and such a cruel thing to say in front of Will, who’s life was literally turned upside down on the exact same day. “I loved you since the moment I saw you”? Love at first sight is a cringey trope. Mike was 12 when he first met Eleven. He probably didn’t even know the meaning of love, especially when you take a look at how dysfunctional his parents marriage is/Nancy, his older sisters relationship at the time was. Also, how can he say he loved her the moment he saw her when he spent most of s1 trying to get rid of her (saying he was going to send her back to pennhurst) and calling her a “weapon”? El could’ve found strength to beat Vecna in something far more significant than a teenage boy telling her he loves her, but noooo.

Will’s painting. I really feel like I don’t have to elaborate on this one. It just fucking sucked. They built it up like it was going to be some really important declaration of love from Will to Mike, only to have it be used to help further Mileven. Also the actual painting was ass, and all the fan theories about it were way better and more meaningful. (Like the idea we all had of the swingset where Mike and Will first met, or even just a painting of the two of them as their D&D characters, but SEPERATE from the rest of the group so it was actually obvious what the painting meant.)

The upside down thing with Henry?? I don’t even know what’s going on there. It was super confusing. Is the mind flayer actually Henry? Did El create the upside down or was it there before? Why did it look like that when Henry first got sent there, but looks like Hawkins now? I know they’ll likely answer these questions next season, but there’s just too many questions and knowing now how shit the duffers are at writing, I doubt they’ll all be answered satisfactorily.

The terrible character development. By that, I mean that there was none. Literally no characters had any development. They were all exactly the same as they were at the start of the season. El is still dependent on Mike/isn’t her own person. Mike is still a fucking asshole who treats his friends like shit. Will is still in the closet and hiding his true feelings from everyone around him. Nancy and Jonathan are still lying to each other. Steve is still pining after Nancy. Robin is still pining after Vickie. I could go on and on.

The Duffers hate minorities + poor people. Will and Robin, the two queer characters, don’t get well rounded love interests like all of the straight characters, and Will in particular is made to suffer constantly. Lucas and Erica, the two black characters, are both physically assaulted. Max and Eddie, the two poorest characters, who are living in a trailer park, fucking die. (from @hellfireds) Oh, also? The Duffers filmed parts of s4 in a fucking Nazi prison, where Jewish people were held against their wills and killed. (from @artmuseumsandoldbooks)

I’m going to keep updating this list as I think of more things that are wrong with vol 2. There’s already so many things I could add if I decided to include the shit wrong with vol 1 as well, but vol 2 was significantly worse so I’m just gonna stick to that. Feel free to suggest anything else I should add to the list

In conclusion, FUCK THE DUFFERS

#stranger things #byler #stranger things spoilers #st spoilers #stranger things season 4 #st4 spoilers #stranger things 4 spoilers #will byers #mike wheeler #byler tumblr #stranger things theory #Byler doubt #stranger things season 4 spoilers #stranger things s4 #eleven stranger things #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #fuck the duffers #Duffer brothers #more like suffer brothers #suffer brothers #Dustin Henderson #Lucas Sinclair #Max mayfield #Eddie Munson

[victimsofyaoipoll]

Round 1

Propaganda Under Cut

Erina Pendleton

Erina is SO MUCH MORE than just a "Generic Love Interest" that was brought in the story to continue the bloodline after everything that happens (and it's made abundantly clear time and time and TIME AGAIN that she means everything to Jonathan, to a point that she was his exact reason to standing up against Dio for the first time) but without fail she's only ever allowed to be the supportive best friend. Or a wingman for Jonathan and whoever he's being shipped with. Or simply supposed to sit there and allow her husband to have a male lover (the amount of posts I've seen of ppl using the excuse that 'it was very common back in the Victorian Era for men to keep male lovers that their wives were aware of and quietly accepted so it isn't a stretch to say that Erina and Jonathan wouldn't be the same--especially given how progressive she's written". Or of course my favorite when they completely erase her from the narrative and pretends she doesn't exist Jonathan's got their son for some reason, but nope she ain't there! 

a lot of times ppl who ship her CANON HUSBAND jonathan joestar with speedwagon will put her on the back burner of HER OWN CANON RELATIONSHIP in favor of propping up jonawagon, to the point where 90% of the archive for jonawagon/jonawagon(eri) is either erina giving jonathan and speedwagon consent to be happy together while she acts like a #LoveIsLove wingman OR they'll have the audacity to write fics where erina comforts speedwagon at HER HUSBAND'S FUNERAL

Our hero’s hot wife who was the first (and arguably) only person to give him the emotional support he needed. She’s the only person who never expects him to fulfill some mythical role, she just loves him for who he is. She’s been his best friend and the love of his life since he was 12 years old. When it comes to hero/sidekick ship, she’s forced to be a wing woman for her own husband, either nobly letting him go or peacefully agreeing to an open relationship but only for him!!! She gets nothing out of it, she’s just a good Victorian wife who is “ahead of her time”. Usually, just so she can provide a womb so that the hero/sidekick can be dads and she can conveniently be offscreen. OR she’s written as a lesbian in order to completely and “justifiably” take her out of the equation but there’s a.) no other woman in her vicinity to even ship her with b.) there’s vaguely some faceless, nameless woman we’re meant to assume she’s pursuing, not even a real OC for her.

Suzi Q

This article is incomplete; you can help by expanding it

All she's literally ever done is have a few cute exchanges with Joseph and be a sweetheart in the short time we get to see her following her minor introduction, clearly cementing some sort of playful attraction between the two and without fail she's consistently bombarded with extreme mischaracterization to make her seem vapid and cruel (and occasionally homophobic but like in a Completely Oblivious Dumb Blonde way), that she's nothing more than a gold digger who wanted to marry rich, that Joseph only married her because "he lost his actual soulmate and had to settle for her", and that it was HER fault that Joseph cheated on her decades into their marriage. Frankly, everyone who makes jokes at Suzi Q's expense regarding the cheating scandal aren't as funny as they think they are!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

Literally all she’s ever done is be adorable and marry the hero and people either dismiss her completely or demonize her. She’s often ignored or made to play wing woman for the hero/sidekick ship OR she’s a horrible gold digger who only wants the hero for his money and/or she was only ever just a consolation prize for him when he couldn’t be with his sidekick. She also gets blamed for her husband having an affair. People like to say that she wasn’t good enough for him and could never replace his sidekick and that clearly he never REALLY loved her and it’s her fault for never measuring up. Her husband’s infidelity aside, she stayed married to that man for at least 60 years and canonically says she always believes in him and trusts him to save the day and yet people wanna say she doesn’t care about him. Or call her stupid for never imagining that her husband would cheat on her. The victim blaming gets really gross.

#poll #round 1 #erina pendleton #suzi q #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba #phantom blood #battle tendency

[blushweddinggowns]

But then she woke up the next day and nothing was better. She had slept till noon and by the time she came downstairs her mom let her know that she had two messages from Steve already. 

Those were definitely getting ignored. At least for today. 

She didn’t even know what to say to him. If her feelings for him weren't obvious to him before then they probably were now. Or he thought that she was a total homophobe which made her want to cry for a whole new reason. 

You’re the first person I’ve ever actually told this too, because it just feels like I can trust you. 

Nancy groaned at the memory. God, she had blocked that part out. He probably thought she hated him by now, but she didn’t. She couldn’t even be mad at him, not really.  He didn’t do anything wrong. She was the one who didn’t want to see what was right in front of her. She didn’t know what to do. And when she didn’t know what to do she called Barb, but that wasn’t an option for this.

…was it?

No. It wasn’t. She shouldn’t tell her. She wouldn’t tell her. But then again…if she guessed on her own what had happened that didn’t really count right? And if there was anyone Nancy could trust it was her. She’d never say anything. She just wasn’t the type of person who would endanger someone’s life for petty gossip.

Plus Nancy needed to apologize anyway and it was time she took the verbal tongue whipping that she deserved for leaving her there last night. She called her, sighing when it went to voicemail. She knew she was awake by now and she was definitely home. God, she was even more pissed at her then she thought. 

She spent the weekend sulking, while successfully avoiding Steve and leaving multiple I’m Sorry messages on Barb’s machine. But she wouldn’t be able to avoid her on Monday, she’d find her then.

But then her mom called her, crying. Barb had been missing since Friday. Which didn’t make any sense. Nancy was at their door within the hour, but they had nothing to tell her except that her car was gone and the police had been called. She even went back to Steve’s to look for her, her intense embarrassment suddenly felt like nothing in comparison to not knowing where he best fucking friend was. 

But lucky enough for her he wasn’t there. And Barb’s car wasn’t there either. And Nancy could have sworn it had been when she started walking home. Hadn’t it? What had happened to her after she left? 

Nancy was aware that breaking into Steve’s house to investigate was probably a bad idea. But it was his own fault for showing her where the hide-a-key was. It’s not that she thought that Eddie or Steve would do anything to Barb, but if she was crashing at his house she needed to know about it. But she didn’t find anything. She checked every room, she checked out back, but nothing. There weren’t even signs of a struggle. No blood, nothing that could indicate anything happened here.

But still…if Steve and Eddie were the last people to see her, she couldn’t just pretend that it didn’t matter. Against her better judgment she kept digging around, looking for anything that could help her figure out where she was. She was a little frazzled to say the least. Her best friend was missing and she was trespassing in her ex-crush’s house looking for. 

She was lucky she even heard the front door open while she was rifling through Steve’s desk, immediately followed by his and Eddie’s voices. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

She could hear them coming up the stairs. Of course they were coming up the stairs, his room was upstairs and Nancy….really didn’t want to get caught doing whatever the fuck this was. Could she be blamed for hiding in the closet? God, what kind of hellish weekend was this?

Nancy held her breath as the two of them walked in. She couldn’t see much through the slants in the closet, but she could hear everything. 

“Are you sure you left it here?” Eddie asked, “It might just still be at school.”

“I’m sure,” Steve answered while he shuffled around the room, “I had just finished it and put it back in the book before you came. Give me five minutes and I’ll find it. Just need to retrace my steps. Okay, Friday, I was studying before they came over. And then you happened and…”

She could hear him shuffle around the room before exclaiming, “Ha! Told you it was in here!”

“Why is it under the bed?”

Steve snorted, “Babe, ask yourself that question.”

“Okay whatever. You got me there. Nancy would be proud to know you were this dedicated to turning in homework.”

Steve sighed, “Please don’t say her name right now. I’m sad enough as it is. God, what if she already told Barb and they both hate us? I didn’t even get to say goodbye before they both left.”

“Oh Stevie…” Nancy could hear Eddie move to him, and then an unmistakable, wet kissing sound before he said, “I know this sucks, but it will be okay. You said it yourself right? Nancy’s not that kind of person to hate you over this. And if she is then we do what we always do, lie and move on.”

Steve sighed, “You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is that easy. Besides, you still got me don’t you?”

Another wet sound before Steve giggled, “Yeah. I do. Now let’s go home, this room is making me depressed.”

Nancy could almost cry from how relieved she was when she heard the door close, even if all of that was hard to hear. Though having to hear them kiss wasn’t exactly pleasant. And she…she didn’t want Steve to think she hated him. But she also couldn’t focus on that for right now. Because now she had proof that whatever happened to Barb had nothing to do with Steve and Eddie, thank god. She would still have to ask them about her, get all her bases covered, but she felt pretty damn confident that they had nothing to do with her going missing. Which meant if she told anyone about this stupid party the cops would waste all of their time questioning them while Barb was still gone. Hawkins police had been functionally useless for finding Will Beyers, what were they going to do with Barb? Less than nothing?

Well Nancy wasn’t going to let that stand. She was going to find her herself. 

She just didn’t think she’d end up doing it with Johnathan Beyers of all people. Or that monsters turned out to be fucking real. Or that her little brother was involved. Or any of the insane shit that happened to her in the span of one week. 

Honestly, in comparison to all of that Steve coming out to her really wasn’t that big a deal. 

But him and Eddie showing up to the Beyer’s place to deliver condolence cookies sure fucking was. Though she had to admit, watching Eddie stab the monster in the back with the knife he kept in his shoe kinda made her more understanding on why Steve was so into him. 

She hadn’t even thanked him, either of them for their help. She was too busy rushing to the hospital with Johnathan. Because if they found Will, then that meant that they found Barb, right?

And they had. Just not all of her. Joyce was the one who ended up telling her. And the one who held her while she sobbed. 

Suffice to say, it was a pretty bad fucking week. It had been a few days since then and Nancy had spent most of it crying about Barb. She couldn’t even tell her parents because of the stupid NDA. Mike and Johnathan were too busy celebrating the fact that Will was alive to deal with her.  She had never felt more alone in her life. She couldn’t tell anyone. She couldn’t talk to anyone- 

Well…actually…she couldn’t talk to anyone who hadn’t been there. And even though they didn’t really know what was going on, Eddie and Steve had been there. If they haven't been forced to sign a shady NDA yet then they would be, and it had said nothing about discussing it with the people who already knew. 

But Jesus, now she had to think about Steve. Steve, who didn’t care that she had been ignoring him. Steve and Eddie who still jumped into help save their asses, despite being completely in the dark. How was she even going to face them? 

After everything that had happened, the whole gay thing felt so small. She could get over it, couldn’t she? And maybe her feelings for Steve hadn’t died completely yet, but they would if she tried right? Plus…as sad as it was, Steve was probably the closest living person to her at this point, even if they had only started getting close the past few months. She…missed him. Hell, she even missed Eddie.  

She hadn’t talked to either of them since that day. But she wanted to. She just wasn’t sure if they would want to talk to her. It’s not like she had anything to give them to make up for getting them almost killed. Or for running away. And she did want to make it up to them. She just didn’t know how. 

Unless…maybe there was something she could do after all. 

I’m not some kind of casanova. I haven’t even had sex with a girl before. All of those dates never got past first, if that. But we needed a way to not be obvious so that’s how that happened.

Steve’s words rang in her head. Maybe it wasn’t a good call to offer up being a fake girlfriend to the guy she still technically liked, but it was something. And it would benefit Eddie too. Plus, she could probably save a few girls from some heartbreak while she was at it. 

Okay, that was something. A plan was forming and plans always helped Nancy to feel like she was back in control. Now she just needed to go over there and apologize, explain everything that happened without crying, and offer up being a fake girlfriend as penance. That wasn’t so hard right? Plus it had the added benefit of getting her to move for the first time in two days. 

She rode her bike over to the Harrington’s place, completely unsurprised when there were no cars. Steve had said it himself, this wasn’t where home was. Luckily she knew where the trailer park was. She didn’t know which one was Eddie’s but she did recognize Steve’s car parked out in front of it. 

It took more than a few knocks for someone to answer the door, but she didn’t bike all around town for nothing. Though…it became pretty obvious pretty quickly that she had um, interrupted something when she came over. If the insane amount of hickies on both of their necks was anything to go by. But the conversation went well enough, of course it did. Both of them were understanding, maybe even understanding to a fault. And they had managed to make her laugh for the first time since she’d known Barb was missing. And both of them jumped right onto the fake dating idea. Eddie seemed especially relieved, he even promised to make her muffins for every other fake date they went on.

And just like that she had them back in her life. Thank fucking god. Nancy wasn’t the type of person who always needed to be surrounded by others to be okay. She liked being alone, honestly preferred it more than half the time, but she couldn't get through all of the shit they’d been through alone. She just couldn’t. And she didn’t have to, because Eddie and Steve were there for her every step of the way. Especially Steve. 

It’s not that he took Barb’s place, no one could. But he quickly became the person she’d go to for…well. Everything. Talking about Barb, on the days she could without crying about it, complaining about her Dad and brother, or even dumb things like who she went to first when she heard a song she really liked. She didn’t think that everything would feel so easy with him after what had happened. But it did.

And while she was a lot closer to Steve, having Eddie around wasn’t too bad of a feeling either. He had a gift for lighting up any room he was in. Steve and Nancy actually shared a lot of the same interests and didn’t have many differing opinions, which just made it so much more fun when Eddie went against almost everything they said. He always kept things interesting, that was for sure. 

But Steve just…understood her in a different way. A way that she needed. And if she could just forget about the whole My best friend fucking died for no reason thing for a second then she’d be doing pretty good right now. And also the small issue of I might still be in love with Steve thing.

That one was harder to ignore when she saw him nearly every day. And it made her feel sick. She didn’t want to feel like this. She didn’t want her heart to speed up every time he hugged her. She didn’t want to imagine a world where him holding her hand actually meant something. She didn’t want any of it, and she didn’t know what to do about it. There was nothing she could do. It was a lose-lose scenario. 

For one thing, it was never going to happen. That became painfully clear after Eddie and Steve got the go-ahead that she was a safe person to be themselves around. They were…ugh. Disgustingly in love. And the more she learned about the truth in their relationship the more nails  were hammered into the closed door of Steve and Nancy ever being together. Plus, she didn’t even want to be with him. Even if Steve magically fell in love with her tomorrow it would ruin Eddie. She couldn’t even fantasize about it because it just made her too damn sad. She wasn’t even sure Steve could be Steve without Eddie at his side. 

Besides, if anything she likes seeing them in love, as weird as that was. But the two of them beat her parents out of the park as an example for what love could be. And she wanted that with someone who wanted her. And Steve was never going to be that person. So why hadn’t the feelings gone away?

They were worse when she was having a bad day. And today was an especially bad day. It had been a few months since Barb died.  It was a Friday night and Nancy’s parents were gone for the weekend, Mike was at Will’s, and Steve and Eddie always did their own thing on Fridays. 

No one had remembered what day it was. Or if they did, they didn’t care. March 26th. Barb’s birthday. Nancy didn’t tell anyone and she didn’t do anything besides sending flowers to her parents..  No one else in school knew. She didn’t even go, she allowed herself the small liencay of skipping, even if she was regretting it now. 

Because she had had a strategy for dealing with Barb being gone. And that was keeping herself busy to the maximum extent possible. If she wasn’t studying her ass off she was doing an extracurricular, and if she wasn’t doing that then she was hanging out with Steve. And if she wasn’t doing that then she was busy trying to read everything Tolstov ever wrote. The busier she was, the less time she had to think. And the less time she had to think meant that her mind wouldn’t wonder to Barb, or how she died, or how alone she probably felt or how scared-

And her strategy was not working. At least not for today. Now she was back to where she was last year, crying alone in her room. Steve had called after school to check up on her and he seemed to believe the lie she put out about her period being particularly bad. It was good for no follow up questions at least. She would have the next 60 or so hours to be alone and miserable.

So why was there someone pounding on her door? Nancy groaned as she forced herself out of bed, yelling down the stairs, “Jesus, I’m coming!”

It had to be Dustin looking for Mike. It’s not like anyone wanted to see her. She didn’t even bother opening the door, she just yelled through it, “Mike is at Will’s house!”

Steve laughed nervously on the other side, “Well that’s good, because I’m pretty sure that kid hates my guts.” 

Nancy’s eyes widened at the sound of his voice. She opened the door and there he was, sheepishly waving at her on her front stoop, "Hi? Can I um, come in?"

Nancy stepped aside to let him, quickly wiping at her face to hide any stray tears. She was pretty sure she looked like shit, but too little too late for that one. 

She shut the door and turned to face him, suddenly feeling very awkward, “I thought tonight was date night?”

Steve shrugged, “Every night is date night if you try hard enough. Do you want to sit down or…?”

Nancy shook her head. What she wanted to do was get back to sulking, but she needed to figure out why he was even here before she could do that, “Steve, what are you doing here?”

Steve fidgeted in place and Nancy hated how adorable she thought it was, “Well you sounded weird over the phone and I was just worried I guess. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Or at least she would be fine after she was left alone to rot, like she deserved, “You don’t need to worry about me.”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, “Nancy look, I know you can take care of yourself. But I just thought since it’s…well y’know.”

How would he…he couldn’t know. Could he? Nancy narrowed her eyes at him, “What are you talking about?”

Steve frowned, suddenly looking a bit more unsure of  himself, “It’s Barb’s Birthday today right?”

Nancy stared at him, eyes wide, “H-How do you know that?”

Steve shrugged, “We um, talked about it once.”

“And you remembered?”

Steve cocked his head at her, “Of course I remember. We were having this whole debate about cars and then I asked what she’d want when she turned sixteen and she mention- Nancy? Are you okay?”

Nancy was not okay. She could feel the tears already welling up in her eyes. She thought…she didn’t think anyone remembered. Or cared but…Steve did. He hadn’t even known her that well. Which was fucking horrible because Barb would have loved him. She did love him, begrudgingly back when they barely knew each other. And Steve would have loved her. Because Barb was smart and funny and sweet like Steve and…and Nancy was crying. Like crying, crying. She was sobbing so hard it felt like an out of body experience. 

She could feel herself sinking to the floor, hands covering her face as she wept. She hated crying in front of other people. She hated looking so weak and pathetic. She hated feeling like this. She was supposed to be better than this. Why did she even have to cry about? She wasn’t the one who was dead. 

God, was this what a mental breakdown felt like?

She could barely hear the sound of Steve kneeling next to her over her own sobs, but she did feel it when he wrapped his arms around her, “Hey, hey, you’re okay. Everything’s gonna be okay. You’re not alone.”

That just made her cry harder. Because she should have been alone. She deserved to be alone. 

“No, you don’t Nancy. Don’t say shit like that.”

She hadn’t even realized she’d been talking out loud. Yep, this was definitely what a mental breakdown felt like. But Steve holding her was helping. He was even rocking her a little, murmuring reassurances in her ear the whole time. 

It took awhile for her to calm down. She couldn’t even tell you how long it had been. But somehow Steve had gotten them off the floor and to the couch, an arm still around her shoulders as she sniffled.

She wiped at her face, a sea of emotions flowing through her. Grief, shame, longing, and all of it was fucking awful. 

She couldn’t even look at Steve, “I’m sorry. I…I don’t know what came over me.”

“Nance, don’t apologize. You think I’ve never had a good cry session on the floor before? It’s normal.”

But it wasn’t normal for her, “You shouldn’t have to see me like this.”

“Why not? Nancy, your best friend died. What else are you going to cry over if not this?”

Even months later, hearing someone else say she died felt like a knife to her heart. Her eyes were already welling up again. Fuck it, she had already embarrassed herself to hell and back in front of him, why not a little more?

“I miss her. So much. Every day. And I can’t stop thinking, why her? What did she ever do to deserve this? And I can’t stop thinking if I hadn’t taken her to your house that night, would she still be alive? Is it my fault she’s dead? O-or am I just making her dying about me? And it makes me feel like I’m going crazy,”  She was babbling, and she’d be shocked if Steve could even understand half of what she was saying through her shaking voice. 

But Steve was listening to every word, patiently waiting as she got everything out before speaking, “Nancy, it’s not your fault she’s gone. And you’re not bad for thinking about what happened. I…I know there’s nothing I can say to fix this. But you're not a bad person because of what happened to her. And there was no reason. It was just fucked up and wrong and no one’s fault but the people in that lab.”

Nancy knew that he was right, even if it didn’t feel right. It still felt like her fault. And even if it wasn’t it didn’t take away the fact that she was gone. But…at least she wasn’t alone. She hadn’t even told him to come, but here he was anyway, all because he remembered her best friend’s birthday.

Because that was the kind of person Steve was. And she loved him for it. And he was handsome and kind and Nancy’s sense of self-preservation was at an all time low. 

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, “I think I’m in love with you.”

She regretted saying it the second it was out there. She could feel Steve freeze up next to her. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.

Why had she said that? This. This right here was why she didn’t do vulnerable, because you say the dumbest shit imaginable. Shit that ruined friendships. What was Eddie going to think of her when he found out? He’d probably never talk to her again and now she put Steve in this horrible position and…God, why did she suck so much?

She looked up at him, near cringing at the shocked expression on his face, “Im so sorry Steve, that’s a terrible thing to say. Please don’t tell Eddie. I don't even know where that came from-”

Steve shook his head, shaking himself out of his surprised stupor. He smiled at her, aiming to comfort, “Hey, hey calm down, I’m not mad.”

But he should have been. Or at least Nancy thought he should, “Steve, I would never try to get in between you guys. You know that right? I’m just all fucked up and-”

“Stop apologizing. It’s okay. I get it Nancy. I do. But uh, I’m not sure you do.”

Nancy stopped, her third apology dying on the tip of her tongue, “What?” 

Steve sighed, “Nance, I love you but I think you’re looking at me through some rose-colored glasses here, alright? We work because you have the friend version of me. I think a week with romantic Steve would have you running up a wall.”

That’s what he was focusing on?

“Huh?”

Steve bit his lip, struggling for the words before saying, “It’s just-and stop me if I’m totally wrong here, but I think that it’s not everyday a boy and a girl get as close as we did without the romance part. So it’s easy to get confused. I know you love me. But…I don’t think you’re in love with me. I think you think it would be easier if you were, but Nancy, I swear to you it wouldn’t be.”

This conversation had taken a weird turn. And it didn’t make any sense to her, “What are you talking about? Anyone would be happy to be with you Steve. Look at you!”

“Exactly!” Steve groaned, circling a hand around his face, “Look at me! Do you know the shit I put Eddie through on a daily basis?”

“What do you mean?” Nancy asked.

“I mean I’m a nightmare! First of all, he’s not even allowed to sleep at night without me. And I’ll like, koala cling to him. All night long. And it doesn’t stop in bed. If we’re alone, his lap is my home away from home.”

Nancy stared at him, gnawing on her lower lip as he talked, "You're exaggerating."

Steve shrugged, "You're right. Half the time he’s on mine. But it gets worse. Do you remember when I was gone for that tournament a few weeks back? It was maybe two days?”

She nodded.

“I called him eight times. And he picked up every single one of them. Because if he hadn’t, I would have obsessively called him until he had.”

Jesus Christ, that could not be healthy, “Are…are you serious?”

Steve ran a hand through his hair, equal parts embarrassed and determined, “Dead. And that’s not even top five in the clingy shit I do. Did you know there was a weekend I literally didn’t let him out of bed for like twelve hours? Or the fact that I’m responsible for like every class we’ve ever skipped because I drag him into some dark room to makeout?”

Steve may have been right about the rose-colored glasses. If he ever tried any of that with her she’d strangle him, “You guys do that?”

“We do worse. But I’m not trying to add to your trauma here. But think about it. You’re…you. You’re independent, you love having alone time, you like the quiet, you want people to ask before they hug you. And I love all of that, I do! I love that you’re so straight-foward. I love that you're all no nonsense, but…well…I’m all nonsense. God I don’t know what other way to say this but I’m a brat and believe me, you’d dump me in a few months, a year tops.”

She hated how true that was. But Steve was right, she knew he was right. She would never be able to handle someone being that clingy. She stopped sleeping with her stuffed animals when she was ten because they made her too hot, but a whole person, attached to her side every night and day? She’d die. And maybe…maybe that explanation cleared up all the confusion. Because she still didn’t actually want him before she knew all of that, out of guilt. But now…it was a little more than just that. 

“But…” Steve trailed off for a second, before giving Nancy’s hand a light squeeze, “If I was straight, I’d love nothing more than to get my heart broken by you.”

Now Nancy was tearing up for a whole other reason. Maybe in love had been the wrong phrasing, but she really did love this guy. This strange, sweet, freak of a man. 

She squeezed his hand back, “Promise me this won’t change anything?”

Steve shrugged, “I can’t promise that. I think it will change things, but for the better alright? No more secrets between us, yeah?”

Nancy nodded, with one small caveat, “But you still won’t tell Eddie right?”

Steve grinned before pulling her into another hug, “That you thought you were in love with me for five seconds? Never.”

Nancy pulled away first, wiping at her eyes again. They were actually sore from all the crying she’d done in the last couple of hours, “I feel like I should send him flowers for dealing with you now or something.”

“Well…if you wanted you could tell him that yourself. How about you come back to the trailer with me? You can be alone with us.”

Nancy laughed at that, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

"It kind of does though."

It really didn’t but Nancy didn’t care. She smiled at him, relaxed in a way she hadn’t felt in months,“Yeah, that sounds good.”

While she was happy she’d get to spend more time with Steve, she was more than a little nervous to see Eddie, especially since she was interrupting their night. Even though Steve insisted over and over again that it was more than fine. Best case he’d be begrudgingly accepting, and worst he’d be obviously annoyed. Nancy wasn’t sure which she preferred. 

What she hadn’t expected was for Eddie to hug her right after she got in the door. Or better yet, ask before he did it. 

“You get full movie picking privileges,” he announced right after. He looked her up and down, frowning to himself a little, “"Have you had dinner yet?"

"Um no but I’m okay-"

“But nothing. I could throw you like a football. You’re eating something.”

Steve snorted behind her, “Did you just get possessed by an Italian grandmother? He makes spaghetti one time-”

“And you loved it!”

Nancy smiled to herself as she watched them bicker. But there was no longing to go with it this time, she just felt…happy to be around them. And she did eat, just to shut Eddie up, the nag. 

But she got him back. She was never going to let him live down the fact that he cried during Harold and Maude. She had them sit through all of her favorite movies, and by the third act of Valley Girl, they were both fast asleep. 

Steve was leaning against her shoulder while Eddie was half draped over the armrest, snoring in what looked like one of the most uncomfortable positions possible. She leaned back into the couch with a sigh as the movie played, her eyes slipping closed on their own. And for the first time in a long time, Nancy knew that she was going to be okay. 

~

Part 1 Part 1.5 Part 2

The end! At least for the Nancy POV. Everything from this little series was from this fic, and I might post more snippets if it can be relatively short for tumblr styling. This honestly isn't that short but I didn't want to split it in two so here we are!

@northa @dustcommander @attic-cat-blog @dinosareawesome2137 @obsessivlyme @fuckign-uh-hi

@a-little-unsteddie @ghost--enthusiast @jestyzesty @missarte-beltane

#steddie fic #steddie #stranger things #nancy wheeler #the universe trapped in your skin #secret relationship steddie #childhood friends au #the eddie nancy steve support group trio has begun #she will be the beard of the century #idk how this just became like a nancy wheeler character study but here we are #let this girl CRY #too many things have happened to her #established relationship steddie #poor barb #heteronormative bullshit #its a brain worm that is very hard to get rid of #this is long #she's long #apologies #the end! #you'll pry my insanely long posts out of my cold dead hands

[yourtwistedlies]

❝ women’s hearts are lethal weapons ❞

val ! ✩ she/her ✩ minor ✩ jason grace’s gf (REAL) ✩ speak now obsessed ✩ gracie abrams lovebot ✩ summer baby ✩ certified procrastinator ✩ professional listener ✩ pathological people pleaser ✩ general amaya’s #1 fan ✩ fitz vacker defender ✩ honorary grammar police ✩ kpop stan (mostly ggs) ✩ my moots’ cheerleader ✩ under the illusion i can write ✩ somewhat smart ✩ cabin 13 girl ✩

dni: if you are racist, homophobic, xenophobic, support genocide and mass murder, sexist, 18+ only, religiophobic, creepy, toxic, or literally just a jerk, please leave!

byi: i swear sometimes!! i also adore using cute nicknames and pet names for my moots!! if you don’t feel comfortable w/ that or anything else, please let me know <33

moots - wattpad - ao3 - carrd - follower event (coming soon ⁉️) - 🇵🇸 | 🇺🇦 save the children!

•̩̩͙⁺ the basics ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

call me valerie/val or twisted!!

she/her, straight (heterosexual), minor (18+ only acc’s please do not follow), 18+ do not interact unless i interact first or we are moots (on my list or to be added- i am the judge of who is to be added), cancer (zodiac, but i don’t believe in them), Christian (i post about it sometimes), << summer baby, entp (mbti), 4w3 (enneagram), ambivert, slytherin, cabin 13, shade (guys i swear i wasn’t trying to be edgy or smth with the past two and this 😭😭 i took the official quizzes i promise lmao), swiftie, kpop fan, staying up writing until 4am gives me life, purple is the best color (this is not up to debate, only yellow even comes close), proud notes app writer, CATS > DOGS (occasionally my verdict changes), bunny lover, chronic platonic sofitzer, i’m either hyperactive or extremely tired (there is no in between), people say im smart, but sometimes i feel like the biggest idiot ever lmao, and ofc dex dizznee’s much needed publicist (my favorite role of mine ever)!!!

•̩̩͙⁺ music ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

taylor swift, olivia rodrigo, sza, conan gray, alicia keys, emei, gracie abrams, maisie peters, sabrina carpenter, laufey, queen riri (rihanna), adele, tiffany day, le sserafim, ive, newjeans, itzy, nmixx, stay-c, aespa, everglow, txt (baby fan), illit ＆ more kpop, lizzy mcalpine, pheobe bridgers, nessa barrett, pinkpantheress, claire rosinkranz, lyn lapid, alessia cara, reneé rapp, mckenna grace, and more!!

as i hope you can tell, i like a lot of music :)

•̩̩͙⁺ books ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

pjo, hoo, (never read toa, but yes, ik what happens in tbm), the rrverse, kotlc, city spies, ss (spy school), alex rider (not done with rr), the academy for the unbreakable arts,

and my many other fandoms i’ve forgotten about (dead magisterium fandom oop-)

i’ll add more fandoms as i remember them lol

•̩̩͙⁺ ships ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

rayllum, clauderry (stfu they’re adorable), percabeth (otp energy), sokeefe, dexiana, tiana (yes i know im the most indecisive bitch ever shut up you toad /jjjj i actually love u platonically), jason grace x ME (/j but i do love him lol), and more!!

•̩̩͙⁺ blogs ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

side blog: @yourtangledpromises

taylor blog: @iknowplxces

writing blog: @thejournalofvalerie (coming soon) (also, i won’t write anything 18+!! except curse words occasionally)

poetry blog: @yourwhisperedsecrets (coming soon)

moodboards/aesthetics blog: @yoursweetconfessions (coming soon)

and perhaps more?? (muahahaha)

•̩̩͙⁺ side note ₊˚. ↴ ·˚༘

if you’d like to be added to my moots list, or talk, please tell me (by wonder girls)!!

if we’re moots we’re actually bffs now (you just don’t notice it yet)

if i don’t respond to your ask/tag/rb/literally anything immediately i am not ignoring you!! i’m just lazy or busy and will do it later <33

im your biggest fan btw

1 Corinthians 16:14

with love,

valerie

#yayyyyy #pinned post time babyyyy #basically just me rambling abt myself lmao #pinned post #∿ 𖨌 ​{🧭} ₊˚.⋆☾ navigation ៸៸﹡.❤︎︎ #ʋαʅ

[steviesbicrisis]

Part 1 | Part 2

[TW: internalized homophobia | compulsory heterosexuality | homophobic slurs | domestic abuse | child abuse]

Change doesn’t happen overnight. The day after his talk with Chrissy, he had woken up with a hangover and the instinct to pack his bags and run away.

He hadn’t.

He stayed home and slowly dealt with the consequences of what Chrissy had made him realize.

He would’ve never asked her to stay friends after everything but she did anyways. Eddie tried to rely on her the least possible.

Eddie wasn’t ready to talk about his issues when he reached out to Steve. He had just missed him too much and, sensing that figuring his shit out would’ve taken a long time, he didn’t want to wait as long to have Steve in his life again.

Eddie didn’t mention seeing him in the parking lot, his talk with Chrissy, or the million questions that bombarded his head daily. He had apologized sincerely, and that had been enough for Steve.

A few weeks after their fight, Eddie is hanging out with his group of friends again. His friends and Mark, the guy he had seen Steve with.

It’s awkward, to say the least, Robin needs the whole evening to warm up to him again, and by Mark’s snarky comments he’s pretty sure that the guy hates him. It’s okay since Eddie kinda hates him too.

«He's an asshole,» Jonathan tells him as soon as they have a moment alone, giving him a knowing look «but Steve likes him for some reason, so we're all enduring his presence.»

It’s not easy, being around Steve while he’s aware of his feelings, trying to overcome the idea of being disgusting and wrong, and digging into his past to find out that, like almost every issue in his life, the rotten root comes from his dad.

But time is kind to him, and after repeating to himself again and again that there’s nothing wrong with him, he starts to believe it. He relives his homophobic conversations with his father until he becomes numb to them. He watches Steve being with Mark until there’s no rage left, just sadness.

Everything fades away with time, except his feelings for Steve.

——

One day, Eddie is finally ready to come out to Steve.

It’s not planned. He had been fantasizing about that moment in the last months but never had the courage to do it. Then, as he was going home after work, he changed routes and ended up in front of Steve’s apartment building.

They’re smoking on Steve’s small balcony. It’s a cold night but Steve hates to have the smell inside.

Steve has sensed he is there to tell him something, so Eddie just cuts to the chase.

«I’m gay.»

«Oh- uhm, what? I mean that’s great! Uh- no like, cool! I’m totally cool with it, well obviously… but I’m also, confused? What about Chrissy? And you know, the other stuff that-»

«Don’t hurt your head too much, pretty boy» he says, smirking. He knows he shouldn’t call him that nor enjoy his blush when he has a boyfriend, but he can’t help it. Months of pining and repressed feelings really do some damage to your brain.

He tells him about everything (minus being in love with him, for obvious reasons): the talk with Chrissy, the realization that he had never liked any of the girls he had been with, the jealousy he had for Steve because he had seen him being so happy with something that Eddie subconsciously thought he could never have.

«And there’s my dad. You know, among the fucked up things he did, I didn’t think about this one as much as I have in the past months. I guess I was repelling it. But uh-» Eddie stops for a second. This wasn't part of the plan, he had decided to come out, give Steve the explanation he deserved months ago and just mention that his dad was an asshole. He had never told this to anyone either, not even Chrissy. The hand holding his cigarette starts to tremble.

One look at Steve is enough for him to calm down. He's staring back at him, he looks ready to change the subject if he can't talk, hold him if he falls, hug him if he cries. Eddie feels safe.

It's almost impossible, how much I love him, Eddie thinks for a second, before taking a big breath.

«One night he came home drunk and called for me. He was completely out of it, barely walking straight, but wanted to tell me about the two fairies he had found that night and beaten the shit out of. He was so proud of himself. I remember his knuckles were red and scraped and he had me locked under his arm as soon as I was close enough. He was telling me how disgusting those two fags were and how they deserved every single punch and kick. I couldn’t breathe. He was so strong and big compared to me, I was just a fucking kid. I guess I zoned out, maybe I was trying to get away- don't remember - and next thing I knew, he was pining me against the wall, his forearm on my neck. He kept asking me if I was a fag too but I could barely breathe, let alone answer his stupid fucking question. He asked again and again and again but I couldn't talk. I stayed there, barely breathing, until he was basically screaming in my face that if I ever turned out queer, he would’ve killed me.»

Only after he finishes talking he realizes how close Steve had gotten, completely pressed on his side, his arm rubbing Eddie's back, knowing how physical contact calms him down.

«His screams had woken up my uncle. He pushed my father off of me and took me away. I've been living with Wayne since then.»

Steve squeezes him as close as he can in a half-hug «Eddie I’m sorry, that piece of shit- you didn’t deserve any of it, I’m so sorry you had a shitty father like him.»

«Don’t be, please. Having a homophobic dad isn’t an excuse for being an ass. And this happened a long time ago, I shouldn’t let him have this much power over me. And yet I couldn't accept who I am because of him, or accept you.»

Steve is conflicted between getting mad at Eddie's father for everything he has put him through and hugging him impossibly tight until all his worries and bad memories are squeezed out of him. But he also knows Eddie well enough to know that, most of all, he feels bad about what happened between them. He wants to fix that first.

«I called Jonathan “queer” once, before we became friends» he admits, without looking at Eddie «I was an ass, I wanted to hurt him and I thought nothing could've been worse than calling him that. Knowing who I am now doesn't excuse how I acted but I've learned to accept it. A part of me will never forgive myself for it but I know I am better now.»

Eddie wants to protest and say that it's not the same thing, that what he did to Steve was worse since they've been best friends for a long time. But the idea of not being alone, of Steve having gone through a similar path, makes him feel a little better. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, wondering if he will ever be able to overcome the guilt and prevent the memory of his father from making him mess up his life even more.

They stay outside, Eddie still squeezed into Steve's embrace, enjoying the quiet between them.

Eddie feels uncomfortable only when he remembers that technically Steve is cuddling with him when he has a boyfriend, so he has to ask «so, how’s your boy? Honestly, I was afraid to crush one of your dates tonight.»

«I broke up with him.»

Eddie turns to look at him, finding Steve's face already in his direction, very close because of their position.

«Holy shit, really? Why?» Eddie tries not to smile but fails.

«He was kind of an ass. Constantly talking about college and he making me feel bad just because I’m not as smart as him. Guess you were wrong, nerds are not my type» he jokes.

«Oh for fuck's sake! You, not smart? he must be the dumbest idiot on this planet for thinking any less of you just because you didn't go to college. And did you hear him talk to Henderson? He could barely keep up with the kid, something you excel at. And as far as I know, that brat is smart as fuck.»

Steve smiles back at him «I know that he was talking bullshit but it's nice to hear that. Thank you.»

Maybe it's the way Steve's looking at him, maybe he doesn't want to waste the chance now that they're both single and in a better place, but Eddie dares to be hopeful.

«That asshole wasn’t a nerd, by the way. He was book-smart at best. You need an actual nerd, like Nancy, Robin or… me» Eddie's voice trembles by the end.

He watches Steve's reaction carefully.

«Oh, really?» Steve's trying to maintain some composure but there's something extremely fond in the way he's looking at Eddie. He dares to hope a little more.

«Yeah» his mouth goes dry, he coughs «a nerd who doesn't make you feel bad because you didn't go to college. Honestly, nerds who are into fantasy games are the coolest ones.»

Steve leans even closer to him «since I need someone who doesn't care about academic achievements, I should go for someone who has failed senior year, let's say... at least twice, don't you think? And the only fantasy game I tolerate is D&D, that is not negotiable. Do you think I'll be able to find someone who fits the job description?»

Their faces are only a few inches away from each other. They're both trying to keep their cool but Eddie feels so happy, so full of love for the man next to him that he can't help but chuckle a little, Steve joining him immediately after.

They kiss with a smile still on their lips, and they break the kiss because they can't stop smiling and giggling. After all the hardships they went through in the past months, they had no idea they could feel as happy and complete as they feel on that tiny balcony on a cold November night.

AN: aaand that's a wrap! I cannot thank you enough for reading and giving me feedback for this little thing. I went a little out of my comfort zone and I hope I did not disappoint anyone! Please let me know what you think. Also sorry again for the emotional damage of thinking Eddie could've actually been straight LMAO Also also, 1 like = 1 fuck you Mark | 1 reblog = 1 fuck you Eddie's dad

----

Tag list: @funnymagicman-named-dandy @manda-panda-monium @hobbitharrington @lightwoodbanethings @minjintea @ilive4irony417 @sapphirecobalt-1 @kerlypride @bornonthesavage @cr0w-culture @vampireinthesun @samcoxramblings

#i told you he wasn't straight #am i forgiven #it got better at the end #i told you!! #steddie #steve harrington #bi steve harrington #gay eddie munson #steve and eddie #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #platonic stobin #steddie ficlet #internalized homophobia #compulsory heterosexuality #sbc writes #ficlets