i’m a platonic stancy best friends truther and i think nancy would end up being really protective of steve after everything
somewhere between s2-s3 her and steve talk about their relationship. she apologizes for taking out her feelings about barb on steve and for using him for comfort even though she didn’t love him. steve forgives her, understands why she did it and knows they were both hurting. they make up and become best friends
once steve and robin become best friends, nancy has to vet robin before she is allowed to be steve’s Official Best Friend (she passes with flying colors though)
when eddie starts dating steve, he gets several shovel talks (from robin, dustin and max) but the scariest is definitely nancy’s. she is cleaning one of her guns the whole conversation and describes in detail what she’ll do to him if he hurts steve
if she hears anyone talking shit about steve in school she will tear them apart verbally and psychologically. nancy once hears some girl talking about steve’s flirting at scoops/family video and calling him r*tarded and straight up punches her in the face and breaks her nose. she does not regret it one bit
(autistic fruity four is so real)
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(A little thing based on the angst fuel that is the lock on the outside of Billy's door.)
--
Joyce Byers is pretty used to trusting her instincts. Used to knowing that, when something feels off, then it probably is, no matter what anyone else tries to tell her.
And this? This definitely feels off. Wrong. Unsettling.
On the surface, there's nothing odd about it at all; it's just Neil Hargrove and his son walking into Melvalds. And while Joyce has never particularly warmed to Max's brother- all too aware of what he did to Steve Harrington on that night- she's not really had anything to do with Mr. Hargrove, nothing beyond the first, stilted greeting when they moved into the neighbourhood, or the handful of times she's seen him in passing as she's been ferrying Will to and fro.
So there's absolutely no reason she should be feeling so uncomfortable at the mere sight of him.
But she is.
Because there's something about the way Neil Hargrove has his fingers gripped tightly around Billy's shoulder that just isn't sitting right with her. A feeling that grows even stronger when Neil marches over to Joyce and says,
"My son has a question,"
Billy looks awkward. Uncomfortable. He squirms in his father's grip, looking small and unsure in a way that Joyce has never seen before, "Dad, I don't need to-"
"Ask her." There's a hidden warning in Neil's voice, a steely firmness that has Joyce on edge.
And Billy must sense it too. He seems to shrink even more, curling in on himself, as he asks, "Do you, um, do you sell locks? Like, uh, like door locks?"
And it's not the strangest question Joyce has ever been asked in her years of working retail, nowhere near, so she does her best to shake off that prickly feeling of unease, the one creeping right up the back of her neck, and puts on her best customer service smile, "Why sure, honey, we have a couple of different types. What exactly is it for?"
"I-uh-" Billy stammers, and Neil speaks quickly.
"Bathroom," he explains, "Billy's got himself a little DIY project, don't you, son?"
Billy nods. But he's not looking at Joyce. His eyes seem far away, his mouth pressed into a tight line.
"Sure," Joyce says, the prickle starting to feel more like an itch she desperately needs to scratch, "We should have something suitable. Normally I'd send you right on over to Hank's Hardware but he's closed at the moment, some family emergency, probably won't be back for another week or so."
"Nothing more important than family," Neil's cold smile doesn't reach his eyes, and Joyce can see his fingers moving a little closer to Billy's neck, "Nothing at all. And this isn't a project that can wait. In fact, I'd say it's been a long time coming."
Joyce just nods, not quite sure what to say in response. Instead she points them over to the hardware aisle, forcing out a cheery, "Just let me know if you need any more help," that she doesn't mean, before retreating back to the safety of her register, taking a few gulps of coffee in an attempt to drown out the sour clench of nausea that's starting to take root in her stomach.
--
They reappear about ten minutes later. Billy silently places a shiny latch bolt down on the counter, and Joyce's Midwestern politeness takes over, forcing her to make small talk despite the fact that she'd much rather be whizzing through this whole interaction as quickly as possible; hell, she'd much rather be hiding in the backroom and letting someone else take over the whole thing, but that's not an option.
So small talk it is.
"Ooh, good choice," she forces another bright smile, "I got the same one for the bathroom at home. Had it for years and it's not broken yet."
Billy lets out a non-committal mumble, already pulling out his wallet before Joyce has even read out the total, seemingly as eager to get this all over with as she is, but then Neil seizes on the opportunity, leaning into her space and grinning that cruel, shark-like smile again, tapping at the bolt with his finger.
"So it's strong?" he asks, "Sturdy? Not some shitty foreign import that's going to break the first time it's used?"
"No, uh, no, it's…it's good," Joyce's fingers hover over the buttons of her register, "It lasts. I've got two teenage boys so, believe me, I know how important a good lock can be."
Neil chuckles at that, and it's a mean sound that turns Joyce's stomach. He taps the lock again, his already cold grin becoming chilling, "Oh yes, well, I think Billy's certainly going to know the importance of this one, aren't you, son?"
And if Joyce thought something felt off before? Well, that was nothing compared to the feeling she gets the moment she notices the flash of fear in Billy's eyes, and the way his fingers shake, fumbling with his change as he tries to tip it into his wallet.
---
Joyce is still thinking about it long after they've left, unable to shake the image of Neil's hand gripping Billy's shoulder, steering him out of the store, while Billy's fingers clenched, white knuckled, around the bolt in his hand. She keeps thinking about the way that Billy had looked, the expression on his face. Scared, but resigned. Broken.
Something's not right there, she thinks, Really not right.
Joyce Byers has got a pretty damn good record of getting to the bottom of all kinds of things that weren't right. And it's looking like she's just found herself another one to investigate.
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ITS OKAY I GET YOUUUU mean steve BUT his soft condescending tone like "oh, is my cock too big for you? aww but i think you can take it, baby. you wanna make me feel good, dont you? you're so pretty f'me, crying all over my cock. gotta make sure you know your place." HE KNOWS HES ON TOP OF THIS WORLD!!!! BUT ALSOBUTALSO PRAISE 😭😭😭
maybe idont have the best definition of mean. or maybe i just really like sassy bitch mean men
- mars (is going feral)
you always get it mars. he just has to be on top of the world. he has to know it’s his cock making you brainless when you’re the smartest person he knows. he loves taking you apart you and building you back up, loves to see you get all cock drunk on him. it’s the best praise he’ll ever receive. and sometimes he’s gotta be a lil bitchy too ok 😭
“i’m going to make sure you know you belong to me, honey. ain’t that right? i’m here to take care of you so you can just be mindless on my cock. just how you like it. don’t worry, baby, i like it too.”
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thinking about how danny spent very little time with steve before he (correctly) deduced that he suffered a lot of parental neglect ('you weren't hugged as a child, were you?'). of course, steve's knee-jerk response is to deny that because people who had an abnormal childhood don't realise it wasn't the norm because it's the only life they knew, only when they tell a 'funny' story that is met with a horrified look of someone who grew up in a well-adjusted family that they are confronted with the uncomfortable truth: that the perfect 'childhood' they lost after the trauma wasn't so perfect after all.
the fact that steve was only angry because of abandonment and not the cold bootcamp way he was raised shows he didn't know any better. even when he had a mother she wasn't the kissing-a-skinned-knee-better kind. it would still take years of therapy and gentle coaxing from danny for him to unpack all of that.
i can imagine many a time steve probably shared what he thought was an amusing 'anecdote' from his childhood only for danny to go all compassionate 'aw, babe' on him.
'what's the story behind this scar?'
'oh, it's kind of a funny one, i was playing outside by myself and heard pathetic whining nearby. turned out a stray dog fell into a construction pit. poor gal couldn't get out on her own so i climbed down to get her out, except my hand landed on a piece of rebar and... well. it was a kind of deep cut, but clean, i couldn't stitch it up by myself yet because i was seven so i put some antiseptic on it and waited for my mom to come home from work. it hurt a lot but i didn't cry because my mom always said 'big boys don't cry'. when she saw what happened she yelled at me and since it wasn't infected she said there's no need to go to the doctor, sure it would scar without stitching but the scar would remind me to be less clumsy and not to jump into pits willy-nilly. anyway, isn't it funny how clumsy i was when i was 7. why are you looking at me like that?'
it's honestly a wonder steve ended up with such a soft and big heart despite everything, because neglect could have made him cold, selfish, hard, insensitive to the feelings of others because no one cared about his.
instead, steve loves 'fixing broken toys' (literally and figuratively, ex. him gently gluing back the small cat figurine that danny broke) this 'child forgot lessons of love untaught' is surprisingly good at comforting people and being gentle.
there's a reason his big soft heart is what danny loves most about him. because he understands, given his background, how easily steve could have been different, could have perpetuated the cycle instead of breaking it.
truly, he has so much love to give. because no one wanted it from him, he never had anyone to give it to.
he was taught to shove all those soft feelings deep because they are only an obstacle in being a perfect soldier.
and then there's danny who says 'i'll take it, give it all to me, i want it, it doesn't make you weak, it makes you strong, that's why I love you, babe', and steve can finally pour all that love he's had pent up into someone, show his gooey centre without fear of being stabbed into it.
it is any wonder he decides he is gonna love danny till his dying day. tragically, since no one's taught him what love looks like he never realises danny loves him in return.
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