#we know nothing about friendships outside of Barb and her brother

[strangerwheelerthings]

Just saw an ask about Nancy’s lack of social behaviors that inspired some thoughts. I didn't want to intrude on them with my disagreements. They make a couple of reasonable points, but I believe they're missing some aspects of Nancy’s personality to interpret them. Obviously, some of this comes down to personal interpretation, but this is my understanding of Nancy Wheeler.

Addressing their points: Canonically, Nancy isn't a social person. She didn't reach out to Robin at all in the year after Starcourt Mall. The only people we see her regularly hanging out with, after Barb's death, is whoever her current boyfriend is. These are all facts. I personally feel her questioning Robin's presence in season 3 was less a 'I have absolutely zero idea who you are' reaction, and more of a 'why the heck is this new person helping us fight a monster and making comments, since when?' type reaction. This is up for interpretation though, so I won't argue that point.

However, Nancy’s lack of social life is not an indicator of a lack of desire for friendship. Nancy struggles with opening up to people. She finds emotional vulnerability and genuine connection both difficult and terrifying. We see this aversion present itself in her relationship with Mike, as well as signs of it presenting in her dysfunctional family. 

Barb was her only real friend in the beginning of the show. We see her change herself, to try to conform to Steve's group, but even then she is very distant from everyone but Steve and Barb. She relied on previous bonds in a social situation, and made no attempts to create new ones. Granted, Tommy and Carol weren’t people she cared to be friends with. However, this seems to be a pattern of behavior, as indicated by her social situations throughout the show. Another example is the party in season two, when she got drunk and only actually talked to Steve.

Nancy stays inside a social comfort zone. She is not outgoing without a purpose. She’s good at listening, but she doesn’t talk to people without an external reason, such as a story. What some people may forget, is that once Nancy is comfortable with someone, many of those barriers go away. She actually stays quite close to people she likes and feels comfortable with, especially in a distressing situation. She made Barb come to the party for this exact reason. 

The Upside Down dangers created the perfect situations to create deep bonds with Steve and Jonathan. They were forced into situations that lowered guards and allowed them to be genuine with each other. There’s a reason she ended up dating both of them, and essentially relying on them for connection over the years. It wasn’t just trauma bonding, but also that barrier free connection. 

Jonathan was the one to distance himself from Nancy in between season one and two. We see Nancy still reaching out at the beginning of season two. He had been placed in the comfortable zone, and as such, she was quite social with him, despite not dating yet. She ends up distanced from Steve because ex status took him out of that zone, alongside lack of communication in their relationship and the inability to be emotionally vulnerable with him. 

Then we go into post-season three territory. Nancy and Robin don’t talk after Starcourt. Why would they? The two saw each other in a dangerous situation, but they never actually connected. There was no bond, and I highly doubt that Robin took the initiative to attempt to develop one afterwards. Steve started dating Nancy because he put persistent effort into showing his interest. She’s not exactly the type to reach out first. Once within the trust and comfort zone, then yeah, she will initiate contact with a person, but she struggles before then. 

As for people outside of the Hawkins Gang, alongside her natural social aversion, there’s also the barrier of being unable to be completely honest with them. This is a major thing for Nancy, who likely values genuine friendships, and has little respect for superficial ones. This, alongside the trauma surrounding Barb, hinders her quite a lot.

After Jonathan moves away, Nancy is left relatively alone. She has working relationships with people in the newspaper, but not much beyond that. Perhaps there was the possibility of a friendship developing over time with Fred, but that was cut short. Even then, once again, the person she’s closest to got there because they were placed in a situation where she had an external reason to initiate contact.

Does that mean she doesn’t really care to make any more friends aside from Jonathan? Turn now to the famous line: "Does that make us friends? As in, officially?"  

Look at that smile, and try to tell me that she isn't ecstatic to have Robin confirm their new relationship.

This girl desperately wants a friend. She just doesn’t know how to make one. Looking just at that scene, Nancy is visibly nervous. She doesn’t say anything until Robin drops the friend-word, and then she feels the need to confirm it with her. She wanted it so badly, and was so relieved when Robin revealed that she felt the same way. This wasn’t a little thing to her.

How do they even get to that point in season four? First, Robin puts herself in Nancy’s orbit, despite Nancy’s discomfort. People have a tendency to discount her ideas and not listen to her. She was an unknown variable in a stressful situation. However, the situation allowed them to really talk and the start of a connection was created. Robin had listened to her, and had validated her theory. 

Nancy was starting to like her.

What did she do next? Take advantage of the situation they were in, to sneakily attempt to grow closer. It wasn’t just the fact that Robin was competent and Nancy respected her after the library, but because she wanted to spend time with her. There were plenty of options within the group of competent people, yet Nancy repeatedly singled Robin out. Nancy was trying to become friends.

I say take advantage of it though, because it is a lot less stressful to initiate conversations with someone if you have an excuse. ('They were in a dangerous situation, it wasn't about wanting to be her friend, whaaatt.' Lies.) Suddenly a lot of the normal social pressure and anxiety around initiating contact is decreased. And look at what Nancy does in that scenario, she immediately reaches out. 

Give her a reason, or a purpose, and she can go up and talk to anyone about anything. Take that away, and she gets too stressed or anxious to be the first. 

Anyway, to sum up, Nancy sticks to people she’s comfortable with. Robin, and maybe Steve depending on how the romance is handled, have managed to maneuver themselves into her comfort zone by the end of season four. She has confirmed friendship with Robin, and as previously established, once Nancy likes you, she is social. She will reach out to you, and spend time with you. 

Outside of danger, she likely takes a while to trust people, so anyone who wants to join in the hangouts would need to be willing to put in some effort and be patient with her, but it isn't impossible. She wouldn’t avoid them, just stick close to comfort people.

She's not completely anti-social. Nancy is an introvert who struggles to trust, but once you have that trust, she is a reliable friend.

#max's immediate attempt to turn to Nancy for help after lucas says there's more connection there than shown on screen #so we cant completely discount her relationships with everyone else in the show #i also wonder about her elementary school years #we know nothing about friendships outside of Barb and her brother #Barb was relatively recent too #she was a nerd #but she can hold her own in a conversation #she's introverted but not particularly socially awkward #however she seems to have slight trust issues #so there's likely some past social trauma #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #ronance #jonathan byers #stranger things #she's the kind of introvert that is very observant and good at listening

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 2: THE WEIRDO ON MAPLE STREET

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: This part is heavy. A lot of things are happening. Nancy and Diana's friendship dynamic will be tested throughout the season. I wanted to make this pool party as realistic as possible. In watching this episode, I understand Nancy's want to fit in, but it's at the expense of Barb in my opinion and I wanted to showcase how that feels through Diana. As a dancer, I hate when after finding out I am a dancer, people tell me to dance...it makes me uncomfortable. It's not a skill that is always on for me. The move Diana shows everyone is called a Scorpion (Rhythmic Gymnastic Style).

P.S. This is what I picture Diana wearing to the pool party.

Warnings: Sexual implications. Blood. Peer Pressure.

Word Count: 3511

Masterlist

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V

HARRINGTON RESIDENCE

When Steve said he was having a party, I never expected to be outside in his backyard, sitting on a lawn chair freezing to death. I shiver wrapping my arms around my knees. I have been here for over an hour and have done nothing but sit by the heated pool watching the water. The definition of ‘party’ was as lost as I felt. Tommy H attempts to throw Carol in the pool. She screams trying her best to escape his hold. I lean against Barb savouring her warmth and rest my head on her arm watching everything unfold. Nancy sits in a lawn chair beside Steve. Barb and I were long forgotten once we arrived. I am too cold to care.

“I thought parties were primarily inside the house.” I mumble. “What kind of party is this?” 

“A stupid one.” Barb responds with a sigh.

“All they do is smoke and drink. Where’s the food?” 

“Eating isn’t in style, I guess.”

I peer around Barb’s shoulder keeping an eye on Nancy and notice she is on her second beer for the night.  I groan, feeling restless and stand up to stretch my legs. 

“Did you want to go for a walk?” 

“Where?” 

“I don’t know, around the pool.” 

Barb looks at the pool, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “No thanks.” 

I pout, but don’t question her and begin my walk. 

“Diana, where are you going?” Nancy asks. 

“I’m tired of sitting around. I’m going to walk around the pool for a bit.” 

Nancy smiles, her blue eyes seem glazed and a little out of focused. “Okay. Just don’t leave.” 

“I won’t.” I respond, no matter how much I actually want to leave. 

I stroll along the edge of the pool thinking. Steve Harrington throws a lot of parties and I’m most certain the whole school has been to Steve’s house at least once in their lifetime. Which meant Steve’s parents weren’t home often. I look at the towering house and the expansive backyard. I don’t know what it’s like to be an only child, but I do know how it feels to be lonely even with others around. My gaze lowers to across the pool. Nancy smiles at Steve; they’ve been talking since we arrived leaving Barb and I alone. I don’t look at Tommy H and Carol, knowing they’re all over each other, stealing kisses and soft giggles. Instead, I look at Steve. Really look at him. His impressively beautiful hair, the cigarette behind his ear, the forgotten can of beer in his hand, the way he looks at Nancy. Like he…enjoys being around her. 

I tilt my head to the side. This is the first time I am privy to observing how Steve interacts with Nancy. He seems more…genuine and real. Not this superficial, arrogant persona he puts on at school or when he’s with Tommy H and Carol. I admit my perception of Steve Harrington is based on how others view and talk about him. He’s the boy we watch walk away. The Big Man on Campus. The Casanova. A glorified asshole. But in being in his house for this brief moment and seeing how he is with Nancy separate from Tommy H and Carol…maybe I had it all wrong and Steve Harrington isn’t that bad. 

A gust of wind blows past and I hug my jacket close to me. I am so cold I start to jump up and down. Sauté. Sauté. Sauté. I jump higher landing through my feet. Glissade assemblé. Glissade assemblé. I continue to jump from petit allegro to grand allegro and after a few minutes I begin to practice the Gargouillade.

“Do you ever sit down?” Tommy H shouts. 

I almost miss what he said and stop jumping. From across the pool, Steve, Nancy, Barb, Tommy H and Carol stare at me with expressions ranging from awe to concern. 

“She’s practicing.” Nancy says. 

“For what?”

“The Nutcracker showcase next month.” 

Tommy H winces. “Sounds painful.” 

“What the hell is a Nutcracker?” Steve asks. 

“The Nutcracker,” Nancy corrects. “And it’s a two-act ballet by Tchaikovsky.” 

“Bless you.” Carol jokes, grinning. Tommy H kisses her temple.

I roll my eyes, putting my hands on my hips and pace back and forth in efforts to catch my breath. Sweat trickles down my back and I finally feel hot enough to take off my jacket. 

“Diana got one of the lead roles in the second act.” 

“Nancy.” I warn, marching to the other side of the pool. 

“What? It’s a big deal and you should be so proud of yourself!” 

“I am but…” I squeeze my jacket. Stop telling them my business! 

“How long have you been dancing?” Steve asks me, sipping his beer. I am taken aback by his question.

It’s the first time Steve is talking to me directly and not through Nancy. The first time I feel like he acknowledges me enough to talk to me despite the circumstance being forced upon me by Nancy. It takes me a moment to respond. 

“I-I was two when I started,” I stutter, looking anywhere but his face. “It’s how I met Nancy."

“You’re a dancer too?” He directs his question to her.  

“I quit last year.” 

“Why?” 

“I just didn’t want to dance anymore.” 

“Why not?” 

“I don’t know. I just didn’t…” she shrugs, finishing the last of the beer. Nancy wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Diana is gonna go pro one day.” 

I feel like I’m going to explode. Steve looks at me again and this time I meet his gaze. 

“Pro? Sounds like sports.” 

“Dance is a sport.” I interject. 

Steve raises his eyebrows, though his eyes tell me he doesn’t agree with me. I’m not surprised because it’s the common stigma surrounding dance. Becoming a professional dancer is a one in a million chance. There are so many odds to win against. Making money is dependent on the opportunities you get and with whom. It’s not as stable as a regular 9 to 5 and the training is extensive and strenuous that most don’t make it. 

“Diana has the grace, strength and flexibility.” Nancy continues. “Her lines are perfect; her feet are beautiful.”

“Lines?” Carol questions. 

My nails dig into my palms. 

"The way she moves is aesthetically pleasing. She can do crazy things with her body.” 

“Is that so?” Tommy H smirks. 

“Diana, show them!” 

My face feels like it’s on fire. Everyone is looking at me now. I shift from side to side wanting the ground to swallow me up. All this attention on me is too much and I feel like I can’t breathe.

“No, no. I-I can’t.” 

“Please, Diana?” Nancy begs, clasping her fingers together. 

I want to tell her to stop. I hate being asked to dance outside of a studio. It makes me feel like a clown at a circus, ready to entertain and Nancy knows this. 

“I would love to see these crazy things you can do with your body.” Tommy H’s tone suggests something else entirely. 

“Me too!” Carol adds, leaning back on him. 

I shake my head, tucking a loose curl behind my ear. “It’s too cold.” 

“Just a kick then!” Nancy offers. 

“Yeah, just a kick, Diana.” Tommy H adds, smiling devilishly at me.  

“Nancy, I don’t think—” Barb begins. 

“Yeah, show us!” Carol interjects, smiling at me. 

Tommy H cheers aloud while clapping obnoxiously. I glance at the faces in front of me. Barb looks as uncomfortable as I feel and I can tell she’s trying to help me out of this situation but she is overshadowed by Tommy H and Carol. Steve looks surprisingly hesitant and Nancy’s hopeful face stares encouragingly at me. I close my eyes and sigh, placing my jacket on the empty lawn chair beside Barb. Nancy squeals in excitement as I perform some last-minute stretches to warm up my hips and back. 

Lifting my left leg up and grab the outer side of my foot with my left hand. I begin to push my back foot towards the sky as high as I can which is pretty high, considering its already by my ear without much effort. I turn my elbow outward so it’s pointing forward and in front of my head. I lift my other hand and grab my ankle with my right hand and meet my left hand with it. When I straighten my leg and pull my leg forward, the back of my thigh touches my head. I pull until I am in an over split. 

“Holy shit. How is that possible?” Steve exclaims. Nancy claps proudly while Steve stares at me wide eyed and confused. 

“That’s disgusting.” Carol says. 

“What are you?” Tommy H adds. 

I immediately let go of my leg and stand straight. They didn’t have to be so mean. 

“Okay, that’s enough.” Barb snaps, holding my jacket out to me. I take it from her, sitting in the lawn chair beside her. 

The “party” resumes as if nothing happened with Tommy H, Carol and Steve all standing finding someone or something else to entertain themselves with. Nancy watches Steve’s every move, trying to be discreet but failing. Tommy H and Carol stand near the pool and Tommy H tries to throw Carol inside again. Carol screams at the top of her lungs. 

“One, two, three.” 

 “You’re such an asshole, Tommy.” Carol giggles. 

Steve comes back with a can of beer in his hand. I can’t see what he’s doing until he quickly opens the can, putting his mouth on the side. I cringe thinking about all the germs on that can. He chugs the beer in a matter of seconds, dropping the can on the ground. 

“Is that supposed to impress me?” 

Steve plops himself on the lawn chair. The cigarette behind his ear, dangles from his lips. He looks at her feigning confusion.

“You’re not?” 

Of course, she is. 

“You are such a cliché; you do realize that?” 

“You are such a cliché.” Steve responds, reaching for a lighter on the side table. He lights his cigarette and inhales. “What with your grades and your band practice.” 

“I’m so not in band.” 

“Okay, party girl.” He hands her a can of beer and the blade, challenging her. “Why don’t you just show us how it’s done, then?” 

Barb and I look at each other. That would be Nancy’s third beer for the night. Any more and she’ll get sick. I close my eyes praying Nancy won’t do what I think she’s going to do. Barb shakes her head. 

“Okay.” 

Nancy standing up caught the attention of Tommy H and Carol. 

“You gotta make a hole at the bottom—”

“I got it.” 

“Yeah, she’s smart, you douche!” Tommy H laughs, crushing a beer can against his head. 

“That explains so much.” I mutter under my breath. Barb snorts, smiling. 

Nancy pokes a hole in the can of beer and quickly opens the top before she begins chugging the beer. 

“Chug, chug, chug! Chug, chug, chug, chug, chug!” 

I’d be impressed, if I weren’t so taken aback by the way Nancy was acting. She drops the empty can on the floor, stumbling slightly. Tommy H, Carol and Steve all cheer and whoop for Nancy who curtsies in thanks. 

“Barb you wanna try?” 

Barb perks up. It’s the first time she’s been addressed the entire night. “What? No. No, I don’t want to. Thanks.” 

Nancy pouts. “Di?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

Nancy looks at Barb one more time. “Come on.”

“Yeah.” Steve encourages. I squint, shaking my head. 

“Nance. I don’t want to.” Barb hisses. 

Nancy ignores her putting another can of beer and the blade in Barb’s hand. “It’s fun! Just give it a shot.” 

“Nancy. She said no.” I interject, sternly. I can’t believe she’s forcing us to do things we clearly don’t want to do. 

“Okay. Fine.” 

Barb stands up in the centre of the circle. I look up at her feeling on edge about what was going to happen and what could happen. Barb isn’t equipped to poke a hole in the can. She doesn’t know how. The silence is so loud, it’s awkward and I want to grab Barb and tell her to sit down. Barb mumbles to herself, fiddling with the blade. She presses into the can, but the blade slips, slicing through her hand. Barb flinches, dropping the can and knife on the concrete. 

“Barb!” I shout, rushing to her. I hold her wrist in my hand to inspect the damage. Blood oozes out of the cut in her palm, trickling down her wrist and my fingers. “Oh my gosh.” 

“Gnarly.” Tommy H laughs. 

I glare at him, letting go of her wrist. “It’s not funny.” I snap. 

“Are you okay?” Nancy asks, her eyebrows etched with worry. She seemed to have sobered up a little. 

“Yeah.” Barb says. 

“Barb, you’re bleeding.” 

“I’m fine.” Barb replies, her voice is shaking and I know she’s fighting back tears. Barb looks at Steve. “Where’s your bathroom?” 

“Oh, it’s…it’s, uh, down past the kitchen to the left.” He stands up escorting her back to the house. 

I look at my hand and the dry blood sticking to my fingers and quickly grab my jacket from the lawn chair running after them. I can’t stand to be around Nancy right now. 

“I’m coming with you, Barb.”  

I hold Barb’s hand under the cold water in the downstairs bathroom. Steve left five minutes ago leaving me and Barb alone. The air feels thick and heavy around us as we stand in silence. I know Barb feels embarrassed about what happened and that’s the reason she’s not talking. I understand completely and allow her the time to process what had just happened. Removing Barb’s hand from the water, I quickly soap my hands and rinse them before closing the tap. I quickly dry my hands against the hand towel and tend to Barb. I take her hand and inspect the cut. 

“It’s not that deep which is good.” I comment. 

“Yeah.” 

The cut begins to bleed again and I take a heap of toilet paper and quickly wrap it around her finger tight to stop the blood. Barb watches me work. I tell her to hold the wound tight to stop the bleeding. Barb nods her head and sits down on the toilet seat staring at nothing in particular. I sigh deeply and crouch to her eye level placing my hands on her knees. 

“Are you sure, you’re okay, Barb?” I ask, softly. 

Dark brown eyes look at me. “I’ll be fine.” 

I frown, growing upset with what happened by the pool. “I don’t know what’s up with Nancy or why we’re even here. Did you see how she was acting out there? I felt like I was in a circus and you, Barb. Your hand.”

“She wants us to be her guardians. So that’s what we’re going to do. Guide her and make sure she doesn’t get too drunk and do something stupid.” 

“Like sleep with Steve Harrington.” It wasn’t a question. It was a fact. I shake my head. “We can’t stop her from doing that when she clearly wants to, Barb. Nancy can deny all she wants, but she wants to be here. She wants to get drunk and she wants to sleep with Steve.” And it doesn’t explain why we need to be here. 

“I know…” Barb says solemnly.

Neither of us say anything for a moment. I am lost in thought, drawling circles on Barbs thighs. If Nancy would just admit how much she likes Steve, Barb and I wouldn’t be here right now. Tonight, left me wondering where did my best friend go. That person out by the pool is not Nancy, it’s a version of her I don’t know nor want to know. She didn’t notice how uncomfortable Barb and I were tonight which is so out of character, I don’t even…I shake my head again, biting my lower lip. 

“Why are we here, Barb?” I ask quietly. 

“Because Nancy wants us to be here for her.” 

“Then why do I feel like…a handbag. An accessory in all of this? Why do I feel like she doesn’t want us here?”  

Barb doesn’t answer. I sigh and stand up feeling completely drained. I want to go home. I want to take a shower and sleep. I want to do anything but be here. I hear footsteps and laughter followed by Nancy and Steve’s voice. Barb and I look at each other before springing into action. We are scrambling out the door in seconds rushing towards the grand staircase. 

“Nance. Nancy!” Barb calls. 

Nancy pauses, hugging the towel against her face, looking at us.  Steve continues to walk the steps, not bothering to look back. I observe Nancy. She is drenched from head to toe with bits of mascara gathered around her eye. 

“Where are you going?” Barb asks. 

“Nowhere. Just upstairs…” she hesitates to respond finding the right words, “to change. I fell in the pool.” 

“Why don’t you go ahead and go home. I’ll just get a ride or something.”

My jaw drops. Go home? Go home? She begged us to come and make sure she doesn’t do anything stupid, and now she wants us to leave? That’s all we ever wanted to do since arriving here. 

“Nance.” 

“Pardon?” 

Barb and I say at the same time. Nancy looks at us. 

“I said why don’t you go home.” 

“I know what you said, Nancy, but you asked us to be here for you.” 

 “I’m fine,” Nancy says with a hint of attitude. “You guys can go.” 

I stare at her for a moment trying to figure out where my best friend went. “Did we do something wrong? 

“No.” 

“You seem like you’re mad at us.” 

Nancy sighs, rolling her eyes. “I’m not mad at you guys. I can just tell you don’t want to be here so you can both go home. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” 

Barb and I don’t speak for a moment. I’m too frustrated to say another word. I lied to my parents to be here. I lied to Mrs. Wheeler to be here. I wanted nothing to do with this and Nancy knew that, yet Barb and I were forced to be here, ridiculed and embarrassed. And Nancy doesn’t see any of it. She only sees Steve Harrington. 

“Nancy. This isn’t you.” Barb says, sadly. 

“I’m fine, Barb. Just go, both of you.”  

Nancy races upstairs without looking back. I scoff shaking my head. Unbelievable. I turn towards the door grabbing Barbs arm. 

“Let’s go.” I snap. 

I am stunned when Barb resists. She looks at me with sympathy and I immediately know what she’s about to say. 

“I’m gonna stay here…” 

“Barb, are you serious?” I exclaim. I don’t care how loud I’m being. 

“I know, I know,” Barb says pinching the bridge of her nose. “But I can’t leave her here.” 

“She just told us to go home and I don’t know about you, but I’m not staying where I’m not wanted.” 

“I just can’t leave Nancy here alone.” 

My chest feels hollow. What about me? I want to ask. Barb was supposed to be our ride home. With Nancy staying and Barb staying with her, I had no way of getting home. But I refuse to linger around while Nancy stays upstairs with Steve. I can’t call my parents; I’m not supposed to be here across town. I’ll get in so much trouble, I doubt I’ll be able to leave my house for anything other than school and dance for a long time. I can’t risk it. I look at the door behind me. The thought of walking home alone scares me and I wish Barb would leave Nancy and come with me. Be with me, like I’ve been with her when she cut her hand. 

My nostrils flare as I push down the tears brimming my eyes. No. This is your mess, Diana. You have to fix it. I swallow the lump forming in my throat and I stand straight holding my head high.  

“If that’s what you want to do,” I say quietly. “I’m going home.” 

“Are you going to call your parents?” Barb asks, eyes slightly wide. 

I shake my head, putting my jacket on. “I’m just going to walk.” 

“Walk!? Diana, c’mon. Just stay here—” 

“No, I can’t.” I say with finality. 

Looking defeated, Barb nods her head, pulling me in for a hug. “Be safe. Please.” she whispers. 

I hold Barb tight, breathing in her floral scent. Neither of us let go for a long moment and a part of me feels like this hug was a…farewell. I release myself from her hold and glance down at her finger. It’s still bleeding, drenching the white tissue paper a bright red. 

“You be safe too, Barb. Please find a bandage for your finger.” 

“Yes, mom.” Barb teases. 

I smile and it feels genuine. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

#stranger things rewrite #black fem reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #dianasinclair #eddie munson x black!reader #steve harrington x black!reader #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #sinclair!reader #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #eddie munson x sinclair!reader #steve harrington x sinclair!reader

[theinariakuma]

“There are no limits” - can I request this prompt with Lucifer please🥺👉🏻👈🏻 Or Diavolo (tumblr asks are broke and I can’t change what I’ve written without deleting everything) 💛💛💛💛

I know you’ve already seen it because I just can’t help myself. 

Angst Prompt:  “There are no limits when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

If you’d like to request a prompt, go Here

Diavolo x Female! MC x Lucifer

Rated: Mature for Themes of violence, death, gore. (nothing explicit.)

Read under the cut. 

It was bound to happen, something that Diavolo realized in hindsight. The current exchange students were trapped in his palace--not against their will, but having no way to go home. 

“Diavolo.” Lucifer’s voice was sharp. 

“I know.” The Prince looked out the window, brimstone fire and screams. “They have betrayed me.” 

A group had begun rioting against Diavolo after a rumor had reached the public. A rumor of the strongest demons in Devildom making a pact with a human. A non-magical, powerless human. 

They weren’t wrong. The female exchange student had ensnared the attention of many in Diavolo’s inner circle. The Avatars of the Sins had indeed made pacts with her, she had the attention and friendship of both Angels from the Celestial realm, and she had a tentative friendship with Solomon. Her kindness and caring personality had drawn in all of them. 

She offered friendship and love for all without asking anything in return. The pacts had not originally been because of even her own desire for a pact, but to help the relationship between the brothers. 

His mark of a successful exchange had been notified and it had caused the people against him to retaliate. 

It was late in the evening that the House of Lamentation and Purgatory Hall were attacked. No one was lost, however, the buildings were set ablaze. Cerberus had been set free against them. It was an image of horror to anyone unused to the brutality of the brothers. 

The twins had been the ones to get the little human. Her face and pajamas covered in ash and soot, coughing from the smoke she had inhaled--but alive. 

Lucifer had been a vision of death when he saw what had been done to his home. The home of his brothers and the grave of his sister. He showed the power he once carried as an Archangel and now showed as an Archdemon. 

Those that attacked the House of Lamentation had been slaughtered. Enemies of Diavolo and the brothers were of no use. 

“They nearly killed her, Dia.” The friendly name with so much anger behind it had molten eyes turning towards the Avatar of Pride. “She nearly died because of our enemies.” Lucifer nearly spat the words. 

“That wrath you once held is showing again, my friend.” It was the same level of wrath that had birthed Satan. Diavolo looked towards the cracked open door. Tucked into the massive bed was the young woman, her form tucked under the silken sheets.

Their enemies did not know that it had not been only Lucifer that she’d ensnared with her kind heart, but the Demon Prince himself. 

“I’ll destroy anyone that comes for my head… and anyone that comes for her, Lucifer.” 

Lucifer looked to the larger demon, his scarlet gaze was still sharp, his shoulders tense. He didn't like this situation. The rebellion had been because Diavolo was making progress and because of their little human. 

Both turned when they heard the tiny footsteps. 

She was so small compared to the two of them. When she arrived at the palace, Simeon had healed her throat--the damage done by the smoke and ash and Barbados had brought her some clean sleepwear after sending her to a bath. 

"This is because of me, isn't it?" Her voice was soft, somber. "Because of my pacts with you and the others?"

As her eyes looked to Lucifer, it was Diavolo that drew her closer. "You were just a reason in a sea of excuses to make a move, my treasure." 

Diavolo's feelings for the human hadn't been sudden, they were steady since he met her. Part of him was drawn by curiosity. She wasn't like Solomon. She was normal outside of her bloodline. 

He'd found excuses to see her, much to Lucifer's enjoyment. Where Diavolo allowed himself to be lost in her affection, their little cafe or study dates where she helped him or accompanied him places, Lucifer had been thrown off by her meddling in his family affairs. 

She'd quickly become important to both of the men. 

The warm embrace had caused her eyes to flutter shut, feeling fingers run through her hair. While Diavolo held her, Lucifer ran his fingers through her soft, sleep mused locks. 

"People like them… they always look for reasons to defy someone trying to keep the peace." Lucifer spoke softly, "Your pacts to myself and my brothers scare them." 

The public didn't think of the fact that they all had willingly bound themselves to the young woman. However, that is what they did. And had Diavolo not been the Prince, Lucifer expected that he would have chosen to make a pact with her as well. 

As the small woman was wrapped up in the embrace of Diavolo, the men were focused outside the window, watching the fires grow closer. 

Their civil war was coming closer, and they'd have to leave her. 

Large warm hands drew her back, earning a confused glance from the woman. When Diavolo cupped her face in his palms, he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips. "There are no limits when it comes to you. I'll do anything to keep you safe." He paused, seeing the tears forming in her eyes. 

"We will do anything to keep you safe." Lucifer corrected the man, his fingers brushed her cheek. 

"Why… why does this feel like you're saying goodbye?" Her voice trembled, and the tears began falling, creating warm streams down her cheeks. 

Lucifer had taken her when Diavolo released her. 

"It is not a goodbye. It is a promise." His arms wrapped around her, kissing her forehead. "We will be back. You will be kept safe." Lucifer began walking her towards the bedroom.

"We love you, darling." 

When the door shut, Lucifer put a charm on the door. Only they or Barbados could open it… unless they all fell. 

"Lucifer! Diavolo!" Her voice grew into frantic screams as the men could see the door shaking and hear her small fists pounding on the wood. 

She knew she couldn't help them, but they didn't have to trap her in here. Each hit go the door grew weaker before she was sobbing, "Please…" Her voice was begging. 

"You can hate me for this." Diavolo's voice was low. "I asked Lucifer to do this when you came in." He'd take all of her anger. "I refuse to allow you near the battle. This room will be safe from everything… and it'll be opened when we return." 

The Prince's eyes were hollow as he heard the weak bang of her fist on the door. 

"Let's go. The sooner we clear this. The sooner we can get back." Diavolo turned, his wings out. Eyes locked on the fire before a sneer graced his features. "They want to defy me? They'll earn their damnation."

Lucifer looked to Diavolo, "She has no idea, does she?" His voice was low as his wings were out, his eyes looking at the crowd. Even for demons like them, it was only a handful of demons versus a full riot of demons of all levels.

"That she's carrying my child? No." Diavolo chuckled a bit. "My friend, should anything happen."

"Diavolo, nothing will--"

"Should something happen. I absolve you of your duty to me… and I request that you protect her… and my child. I know you love her as much as I do… but do not let yourselves fall into Grief like you did over Lilith. Help raise my child and live a good life."

"It won't come to that." Lucifer would not allow his friend to perish. Not when they had something so important in their lives. Their little human and the new life growing within her. 

-

Lucifer was hissing low behind his teeth, Devildom was a bloodbath. Blood ran from his hairline down his face, blinding his left eye. He was unsure of how much damage there was. 

His brothers were all as bloodied and exhausted as he was. The feathers upon his wings were burnt, and he wasn't sure if they'd grow back this time. 

Diavolo had fallen. 

The Demon Prince laid bloodied and still. 

Thai wasn't how it was supposed to happen. "You foolish bastard this wasn't supposed to be your end!" Lucifer hissed at Diavolo, somewhere wishing the insult would stir him awake. 

"He isn't dead." Barbados had only been able to influence things so much. He could see all and warp much, but even there was a limit to what he could do. This battle had no favorable outcomes. "However, he will not be awakened for a long time."

The way this battle turned out was the best scenario. 

The Demon King, Diavolo's father, had done something similar. He'd spent a millennium asleep, getting his energy back after the Holy Wars, before he vanished, leaving Diavolo in charge. 

"How long?" Lucifer's voice was tired, weak. 

"Worry about that later. Go to your human." Barbados spoke in a low tone. "I believe if she hears this news from someone else, she'll be far more upset. I'll take the Prince back." Idly Barbados looked around at the carnage. 

Yes. This had been the best outcome. 

Barbados told himself that even when he heard the grief filled sobs from the young woman. 

-

Fingers brushed the sleeping form of the demon, stock still and just barely warm to the touch. They were soft and prodding at his face. 

"You should wake up."

"...And why is that?" When molten eyes open, the child that had climbed up onto the altar bed shrieked, falling backwards.

Still exhausted and in pain had not stopped his fast reflex, catching the child by the shirt.

Hauling the child back onto the uncomfortable Altar, Diavolo sat up. Idly thinking his father must have vanished to avoid this bed.

Bright, familiar eyes gazed at him. The familiar shade mixed with his features and hair made him smile. 

His son was beautiful and everything he had imagined the day he realized his treasure was carrying. 

"Papa said you might not wake up for a long time." His nose wrinkled, "But Barb always said you'd wake up when you would." The pout on the child’s lips reminded him of himself when he was a child.

Diavolo listened, a light smile gracing his features. "How about you show me to your mother and father? Because I believe I was asleep for long enough. 

The child paused, "Momma said you are my dad. But so is Papa." He shrugged, as if the though was too annoying to focus on before he hopped off the bed. "Follow me! But be careful, Henry is being mean again."

Diavolo found his body aching with every step, however he followed the child through the tunnels. Henry, the giant snake, would not bother them, not with the uncontrolled energy still coming off Diavolo.

The palace still looked much the same. His portrait up in the main room, however there was an added image of Lucifer, his Treasure, and the boy in front of him. 

Devildom needed a king while he was gone and Lucifer was a perfect choice. 

"Dia…" A breathless voice called out in surprise. 

Dressed in a comfortable dress, his Treasure was in front of him. A bit older in appearance, stronger in magic… Something he could practically taste. And against her shoulder was a young infant, the gentle motions of her bouncing the baby making him smile. 

"I'm back, my Treasure." To him, she was more beautiful than the day he left her side. 

#obey me diavolo #obey me fanfic #obey me #obey me lucifer #diavolo x female mc #diavolo x female mc x lucifer #obey me fanfiction #om diavolo #om lucifer #angst prompt #voltagesmutter #fic requests #prompt request

[awedbynature]

A Christmas Debt

Characters: Loki x Reader

Category: Chaptered Story

Genre: Romance/ Friendship/ Love

Synopsis: The reader renders a great service to Loki unknowingly. Not used to being in anyone's debt, our favourite God of Mischief offers a strange favour in return. Will the reader trust him enough to take up the offer?

Previous Chapters: Chapter One

P. C. Pinterest

A/N: Thor's story, as recounted by Loki in this chapter, is an actual tale recorded in the Norse Mythology.

Also,

There's kind of a gift hidden within the chapter. Click the coloured text below to find out!

______________________Loki_____________________

Chapter Two

'He did what?’

You try to shush Natasha the best you can. She is incredulous at the news. ‘Y/N, this is Loki. He has a million wiles. I don’t want you falling victim to any one of them.’

‘I know,' you sigh. ‘But it is such a tempting offer.’

Nat rolls her eyes. She has never fully trusted Loki, not even after all the missions they have served together. Loki had been vital to some of the crucial operations the Avengers have been to, and most of them have given him their grudging trust. Not her. But that’s how she is.

You take another sip of coffee. It’s almost midnight and most of the others are lounging around, stuffed with cookies and fudges and in most cases some amount of Tony's prized liquor collection. Loki is not there. Probably in his room.

Just as you're taking another sip, savouring the aroma of the richly baked beans, Wanda saunters up to the counter. She is new to all this but looks like she’s enjoying every bit of it. Wanda is closer to you in age than Pepper and Natasha. She is more like a best friend to you than a sister, unlike Nat and Pepper.

She pours herself a cup of coffee and casually throws a hand around your waist, leaning against the counter and taking in the scene before her.

‘I saw Loki go after you,' she frowns. ‘What was that about?’

At your nod, Nat tells her everything.

Her eyes widen at the mention of the offer. ‘Did he really say that?!’

You nod wearily.

Wanda puts down her cup with a decisive thump and turns to you. ‘Well, I, for one, am totally in for it!’

'Really?!’ you can see Nat rolling her eyes again.

‘Of course,' continues Wanda. ‘What’s the harm? You don’t have to worry about your siblings ribbing you at dinner anymore! Isn’t that a huge plus?’

'B-but what if they ask for details? How we met and all?’

‘Then you make up some shit. Tell them you two met on a mission, or something. It’s not like you’ve to lie to them forever. It’s just one day!’

You heave a sigh, torn between taking up and declining the offer. But the prospect of being made the butt of jokes at the dinner table holds less appeal than blatant lying on your part. In the end, Wanda wins. You give a tiny nod of acquiescence.

‘I don’t like the idea,' Nat grumbles.

Wanda huffs, rolling her eyes. ‘She’s going to be fine. Now c’mon and show me what you’re going to wear tomorrow. We need to work on that first.’

You let her drag you off to your room, all the while thinking how best to approach Loki without appearing pathetic and pitiable. It’s just for one evening, you convince yourself. After all what do you have to lose?

***

You should not have listened to Wanda. You should not have let your depressed, lonely heart dictate your decisions. With so many things happening last night, you have hardly had a moment to think if you’d be alright with this entire charade. But now, cooped up in the cab and speeding towards a possible disaster, you feel a familiar dread creeping up your limbs and settling in your stomach. All of a sudden, being the object of pity and mild ridicule seems much more bearable. You give an involuntary shiver.

‘Are you alright?’ Loki casts a concerned glance your way.

'Mmhmmm,' you choke out, hugging your arms and giving them a rub.

Loki arches an eyebrow. ‘Pardon me, Ms Y/SN, but you most definitely do not sound alright.’’

'I'm fine.’

You relapse into silence. The cab has left the city and is speeding down a suburban road now.

Your morose thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a chuckle. You turn to find Loki laughing quietly to himself. Somehow the sight of him being so relaxed and graceful irritates you.

‘Do you find this funny?’

‘No. You just suddenly reminded me of my brother,' he says, passing a hand over his face to wipe away the remnants of his grin. ‘I had that feeling of—what do you Midgardians call it—something that seems to have happened before?’

‘Deja vu?’’

'Yes. It was the only time I had seen him nervous. More nervous than a bride on her wedding day. How fitting since he was actually in a wedding dress.’

What!

He chuckles some more, as an image of his hulking brother in a short wedding dress flashes across your eyes. Despite yourself, you snort, feeling the prick of curiosity.

'Why was he dressed as a—’

‘As a bride?’ He finishes for you. ‘It’s a hilarious story.'

‘It begins with my oaf of a brother having his precious Mjollnir stolen from him. Under mysterious circumstances.’ He winks and folds his hands behind his head.

'This happened when we were barely adults but considered ourselves grown up enough to venture out in search of adventures. One day, Thor woke up and found his hammer gone. Thor being Thor, immediately suspected me. Not that I’m saying I stole it. There was not enough evidence and so he discarded the idea eventually. But his hammer was truly gone and he was feeling helpless without it. Fearing the Allfather's wrath, he came to me for a hasty and discreet solution. I used all in my power to locate the hammer. At last we received news that the king of the ogres had stolen it and was demanding Freyja's hand in marriage as ransom.’’

'Who's Freyja?’

‘She is one like us. A goddess. She was considered the most beautiful among the Aesir for her golden hair and her deportment.’ His eyes take a faraway look, perhaps remembering his childhood friend.

'Anyway. So the ogre king was demanding something absolutely impossible for us to grant, yet the stakes were too high. What do we do? We decided to take the advice of the Gatekeeper of the Realm, wise Heimdall. He thought long and hard and decided that someone should dress up as the bride and go and retrieve the hammer. But none were brave enough to volunteer. So it finally fell on Thor to be the bride. ‘But my beard, and my figure!’ he exclaimed incredulously. Nobody heard him, poor thing. They decked him up in the finest bridal clothes and jewellery and wove flowers into his hair and put a veil over his disgruntled face—beard and all. You would not have found a more reluctant bride in the nine realms, nor a more muscular one. I was to dress as his handmaid, but that was not difficult. I could easily shapeshift into a young maid.’

By now, you are wheezing, clutching at the driver’s seat to keep yourself from toppling over. Loki cocks his head, observing you with eyes dancing with mirth, a smirk playing on his lips. He is definitely enjoying telling the story as much as you are enjoying listening to it.

'What happened next?’

'The ogres were foolish enough to believe us. They led us to the wedding banquet where Thor polished off most of the food without any help. His exuberant eating did raise suspicion and quite a few eyebrows but I managed to quell them before it got out of hand.’

'When their king announced that it was time for the wedding, they brought in Mjollnir and placed it in Thor’s lap. And the rest is history. I can assure you, none of the ogres lived long enough to tell the tale.’

Both of you dissolve into hearty chuckles. Loki heaves a sigh and instantly turns serious, ‘Please don’t tell Thor I told you this story. He’ll have my head in a platter if he finds out.’ There is a twinkle in his eyes but his face has gone back to that expressionless mask that all are used to seeing.

'You have my word,’ you reply, suddenly remembering with whom you’ve been acting chummy.

The scene outside is rapidly changing. Clusters of suburban houses and complexes have given way to long stretches of greenery. Which means you’ll be arriving any moment.

With a jolt, you realise that you had completely forgotten about your anxiety and apprehension. You feel more relaxed now, more yourself. Because of Loki. He was looking out for you. He knew you were nervous and wanted to put you at ease.

For the first time, you look at Loki in a different light. He is very much the roguish, evil, beguiling demigod that once almost destroyed an entire city, but somewhere underneath all the barbs and untruths lies a heart that still cares.

'I'm not sure this is a good idea,' you finally voice your anxiety. ‘What if they find out that this is all a lie, a pretence?’

Loki lazily crosses his legs and regards you with a piercing gaze. ‘Ms Y/Sn, perhaps you’re forgetting whom you are with. I have lied our way out of far more life-threatening situations numerous times. Thor lives because of my lies. This is nothing.’

‘What if they ask how we met and our answers do not match! I’ve watched too any sitcoms to know where that’ll lead.’

‘Then tell them the truth.’

‘Of course not! How am I supposed to tell my family that I met my apparent boyfriend after he was captured and imprisoned for masterminding the destruction of a whole city! They would rather watch me die single.’

‘Fine,’ he concedes. ‘Tell them we met during an operation.’

You fiddle with the hem of your dress, not fully convinced. Wanda had insisted on your dressing elegantly, and you had ended up borrowing one of Pepper’s gowns. If anything, it only makes you more nervous. You feel like you’re dressed in borrowed feathers.

‘Don’t fret, alskling,’ he says after some time. ‘The main trick of telling a lie is confidence. People are more likely to believe a bald-faced lie over a stammering truth.’

The cab finally rolls to a stop. Heart in your throat, you look at the familiar house, the neat lawn in front now decked with Christmas decorations, the old whitewashed fence and the ancient sycamore with the tire swing still hanging. Nothing much has changed around here.

‘Allow me,' the soft, crisp words bring you back to the present. You turn to find Loki coming round to your side to hold the door open. His face has taken a softer expression, the perfect look of a man in love and happily so. Slipping in and out of façades comes to him as easily as breathing. No wonder they call him the God of Lies.

He holds out his hand, his lips drawn into a smile. ‘Come, Ms Y/Sn. Let us show them.’

Well, here goes nothing, you take a deep breath, and step out of the cab.

To be continued...

Chapter Three available now

Tags: @lucywrites02 @lilyofthesword @country-cowgirl-101 @benji-booxx @loki-hiddlestoner3024 @outlawangel2020 @thefallenbibliophilequote @idontknowstudios @just-the-hiddles @myraiswack @noturningbacknow @natandersonnla @twhiddlestonsstuff

#loki #loki marvel #loki odinson #loki stuff #mcu loki #loki fluff #loki fandom #loki (marvel) #loki fanfic #loki x reader #marvel #loki romance #romance #loki in love #love #romancing loki #fluff #thor movies #thor #god of mischief #god of lies #god of trickery

[obeymematches]

I guess. And older cats tend to get more grumpy with age. That’s natural and why places like that would need more of a turnover. But what do you do with all those cats that get to their more grumpy phase in life. Make it so that people are able to adopt them maybe? But most people don’t necessary go for older cats or so it tends to be portrayed 🤔

Yes, that’s exactly what I mean when saying Luci is a social eater.

Here his bowls are in the kitchen and most of the time someone is in the kitchen in our house. So now it’s more of an “eat whenever you want” kind of thing for him. He still isn’t fat by any means but has reached and kept a normal weight now. Still fluffy as hell though.

Oh god what a mood... at least the kitty will be remembered pretty fondly 😺

I wish my family ever had a cat as trusting as that. But we have always take in rescue cats and street cats. Weird and lovely fellows but purely affectionate and trusting cats are so foreign to me 😂

I mean considering what a moody and aggressive cat Luci can be I’m surprised things went so well. It was a completely informal change of ownership so there was nothing much we could do to prevent her from visiting. Besides since the cats of my family always have been free to roam outside too she was afraid he’d get... I seriously have no idea what she thought but she considered taking him back. Obviously didn’t happen though 😋

Wow that sure is a strong reaction too!

Kitty - which one again? - definitely knows what she wants too! 😸

Unfortunately I didn’t know you can block anons at that point.

I mean I was writing a story every day, not on request but also free of charge and I had a little disclaimer on top of it, thanking the person who’s imagines inspired me, saying something about my life and then one of the read more lines and the story below it. I thought this was a really neat arrangement actually.

But yes, the anon hate.

I once got an angry anon complaining my writing was using female pronouns only... for the last three days. If they had gone back further they would have noticed that I wrote 3 stories for each character, one with female, one with male and one with they/them pronouns. But that was asked too much, ofc.

I just don’t really get anon hate as a whole.

Like it’s so easy not to follow people who do something you dislike, so extremely easy 🙄

Definitely sus. I feel like lately I have gotten nothing but formerly undateables and that one Satan UR+. I’m not complaining but it’s weird.

The story of Luke’s A Job From Michael card was so cute though. 😄

And I have read the stories of my two Barbatos cards now. They heavily feature tea and I might have a fiancé now. Oops 😂😅

It’s Mammon though, might be a sign 😄

I really hope so!

Not that I currently have what I’d need for another shot but I’d still want a theoretical other shot of that makes sense :)

I totally get why though!

I love that card so much too! 💕💕💕

Yes! Thank you for accepting my request!

It’s actually nice to know there is someone on my friend list I actually have interacted with at all 🥰

Can I ask you to spill some tea?

Do you have a least favorite brother or formerly undateable?

I want to talk flaws and deal breakers if you don‘t mind 😇

Ali 🍿

hi again, sorry i disappeared for a couple of days, i was preparing for an exam today (i got a good mark! not excellent but still good) also i managed to get a second degree burn on my hand so typing was lowkey painful but it’s getting better dw! (but the pizza was delicious so my sacrafice was worth it) 

i’m happy he’s doing much better with you!! 

hmm well i mean cats have their own personalities too, maybe the next cat you rescue was just waiting for the right person to be affectionate with ;) 

yeah i mean i get ppl unfollowing me sometimes too dfghj though i’m lucky it’s never more than 1 person / week 

ohh i haven’t read Luke’s devilgram yet but i’ll soon! 

unfortunately i have 0 Barb cards sdfghjkl

yes i’m happy too! i mean there’s not much interactions for friends in the game as of now, but it would be nice if like... you could do more than just send AP to someone ghj

tbh i don’t have a least favourite, everyone has their own appeals and turn-offs so like... however if it came to like ... actually dating someone with their falws then ig i probs wouldn’t date Belphie ;; no like a major deal breaker for me with Belphie is that he’d sabotage my friendships and that’s a huge no from me; now that i think about it there’s also so many more that i wouldn’t tolerate in the other candidates in an irl partner so like it’s easier to ask who doesn’t have a deal breaker for me fghjk i don’t regret having the bar high tho ! though as i said they r all lovely in their own ways

how about you??

[lubeny]

Electro rock

'' Every trolls is the reflection of the music they listen to '' That phrase echoed in the head of that rock queen, the meaning of it was obvious. The POP trolls were cheerful and brightly colored, the funk trolls conveyed a good vibe no matter what, the classical music trolls were refined and neat, the country trolls had the face of being serious and proud but at the same time pleasant, their race, rock trolls were crazy and somewhat violent, that was their nature, and finally, techno trolls, that race where the person he loves most belonged. I know it's strange or even wrong, but the rock queen only sighed when she saw the Trollex king, everything about him seemed perfect, his face, his smile, that beautiful body, his colors, by God that hair and of course that cute personality that made her turn redder than her hair, she was not a sweetheart and much less romantic, these feelings were very confusing at the time, no one imagined that after Trollstopia was founded, the queen of rock and the king techno began to come out, many did not see it in the best way, but heck they were royalty, do you think that the whining of some trolls would prevent the happiness of both monarchs? If you answered yes, you are an asshole '' to Sometimes the love of your life can come after the mistake of your life '' that queen thought. What started with helping to rebuild techno reef turned into a beautiful friendship, which turned into laughter, fights, reconciliations and many beautiful moments, after all that, he formed a courtship, many were excited, others disapproved and many gave him Likewise, they had already been dating for 4 years, they were planning to marry at 25, they were both 24 years old at the time and as their last wedding anniversary, before joining their lives forever, Barb wanted to do something special for trollex. In recent years Barb has given several things, headphones, necklaces, nights of passion, and much more, she wanted this year to be unforgettable, she tried for hours to write her a song in the type of music that her boyfriend loved almost at the same level that she, EYE almost, Barb knew that trollex loved her more than her music, "Damn," Barb cursed, trying to put lyrics to music that she was 99% sure had no instrument was difficult. -Barb what's up? -His little brother Riff entered his room, that prince was attracted by the curses of his superior "Why is Riff difficult?" Barb asked his brother somewhat tiredly. "Why is it difficult to put lyrics to some beep and bup?" -Bip and bup? - The prince was somewhat confused, he did not know what his sister was referring to, but, looking at Barb, he could see the photo of the king of the trolls ceiling next to him, his neurons already started to work- Ohhh you talk about music ceiling "Of course I'm talking about techno music!" Barb said looking at the mess of papers next to her. -What exactly do you want to do? - -I want to write a song to trollex for our anniversary- Barb took one of the papers where she had written a song trying to imitate or at least get closer to techno -but everything I write is terrible- said that, the queen of rock made a ball paper and I throw it

-Have you tried writing him one in rock? -

-Many, I have hundreds, but I want this to be special - Barb said disappointed in herself

"You can go to Bliss Marin's house, she's a good DJ, she can give you some advice," her brother suggested. The focus of that queen lit up. (...) -Okey, okey, okey- The techno trolls read the notes of that girl with maroon hair Barb went to visit Bliss Marina as her brother had suggested, that mermaid was very happy for the queen's visit, but Barb got to the point and wanted her to help him write a song. -Barb I'll be very honest ... this is all rubbish- Marina threw all the barb notes in the trash "ARG KNEW IT !!!" Barb was upset and frustrated, her king deserved the best. -These losses girl, your anniversary is tomorrow and it is already 5 in the afternoon, I cannot teach you to be a Techno music in an afternoon, this is an art that you have been practicing for years, - affirmed Marina -Then you can't help me? - Barb asked, she was a little desperate -If you want I can write him a song and make a rhythm- Marina suggested -Of course not, this has to come from me, I will feel very bad if what I am singing for the love of my life comes from another person- reveals barb -Well, I can't do much- Both girls were thinking for a while, Marina was thinking about how to help barb and meanwhile the Queen of Rock just sat staring at nothing, she was disappointed and frustrated for not being able to give a song to her king. -I know! - Marina turned on the spotlight- you could look for the neon pearl -Neon pearl? -Barb didn't know what she meant -It is a pearl that is said to make anyone a techno expert just by having it- says Marina -That's a ... good idea? - Barb didn't know what to call it -Perfect, just go to the field of black algae and in the brightest clam you will find the neon pearl- Marina pushed Barb outside her house to start her journey. -I never leave home without my guitar- Barb took the guitar from her and said goodbye to Marina to start her journey. (...) -Where is he, where is he? - It had been about 5 hours, Barb was already in the black kelp forest, a place both beautiful and mysterious, The algae lit up since the sun set the sun, but the rocker did not know it or did not care, it was too focused on finding the neon pearl to dedicate a song worthy of the king to her beloved. She was searching the forest for that gem that would help him show her love for the techno leader. Of course, in her hair were several rock songs that she wrote with her lover in mind, but no, the song had to be techno. Barb kept looking all over the place, she wouldn't give up until she found something to help her play the same music as Trollex. Without paying attention to anything other than finding a clam, Barb did not realize that, in the distance, a moray eel was stalking her, the large fish saw her as a potential prey, Maybe Bliss Marina I didn't know that eels can eat rock trolls, but it was obvious that barb would be in danger. (...) -Hey Marina, do you know where Barb is? - The one who spoke was Trollex, the Trollex king of techno trolls, that young king was looking for her beloved, he hadn't seen her in hours and he started to worry. -Riff told me she was with me and that you were helping her with something- -She's ...- Bliss Marina tried to make up an excuse, she didn't want Barb's surprise- she's in the library -Library? - the trollex king did not believe him at all - You are right- -Marina tell the truth you are bad at lying- said trollex -well ... she is, in the Black algae forest- reveals the mermaid "WHAT?" The words of her subordinate worried the king "IN THE BLACK ALGAE FOREST?" Trollex felt that he would give her a fit. -Yes, why so worried? -THIS PLACE IS INFESTED OF PREDATORS !!! - said trollex altered -Predators? but you didn't expel them- says Bliss -I THOUGHT THAT, BUT THEY CAME BACK FOR THE REPRODUCTION SEASON- he said excitedly Bliss Marina thought for a moment and analyzed what she was thinking. -Oh shit...- (...) While all that was happening ... What was the matter with Queen Barb? -AHHHH- The poor queen of rock was fleeing from a ferocious eel, that fish only opened and closed her jaw trying to get those trolls to enter and devour her. Barb swam for her life, she was scared and with good reason, these eels have taken their lives many techno trolls, Barb did not want to be next, they not only had to look for a pearl to write a song for her lover, of course, if this I came out of this alive. -cu-cute little fish- Barb was cornered in a coral, she tried to distract the beast, calm it and thus be able to flee. The beast only growled getting closer and closer, it opened its mouth showing its sticky, blood-filled mouth, ready to eat. Barb was waiting for him but and she got into the fetal position, there was nothing else to do, she couldn't run away; until, she could feel something next to her, it was her guitar. Then she Barb remembered when she invaded Techno Reef, she remembered what her guitar did and she knew what to do ... (...) -Barb! - -Barbara!- -Her majesty of her! - All those voices were those of Trollex and the other leaders, they were looking for Barb, it was almost midnight and there was no sign of Barb. -Barb, Barbara, My QUEEN !!! - Trollex took a breath and shouted with all his might, he was worried about her girlfriend, that place was very dangerous and he feared the worst, he did not want to lose her like that, in half an hour of her anniversary. -Any new advance? -Asked the essence queen to her son D - nothing mom- answered D -We must find it, we have 1 hours looking for it and I think Trollex's heart won't take it anymore- said delta pointing to Trollex The poor man was very ill, you could see the despair and anxiety on his face, the simple fact of thinking that the love of his life, the trolls that was the cause of his smiles and his sighs, is hurt or even worse ... He was not able to say those words, he asked his ancestors not to be today the day when he says: "Barb" and "dead" in the same sentence. While the hands of the clock advanced the hopes were lost. -I found something !!! - Ramón yelled and everyone heard them. Trollex swam quickly to where Ramón was, when he arrived he desperately began to look for Barb. -Where, where is she? -Asked Trollex altered -Quiet friend- Ramón took out a handful of clothes -What is that? -It's Barb's clothes, I only found that with a little blood on a coral, - revealed Ramón- sorry Bro Trollex just took the clothes and smelled them, they still had their scent, these clothes, it may mean that their queen is gone, all those beautiful moments that they planned for the future were fading, Trollex's smile was fading, some tears were coming out From his eyes, he couldn't believe it was true, his beloved had been eaten. The other leaders lowered their heads sadly and approached Trollex -My boy- the queen stroked the head of the techno king trying to comfort him. Trollex clung to them needed maternal care. -Why-why sniff ahhhhh- the young king cried in the essence chest, he felt a lot of pain at that moment, his beautiful queen, his girlfriend and future

His wife had left his side, everything hurt, he could no longer see his beloved again, her smiles, laughter, her music, all that only lived in her memory. Her body started to go pale, her colors were fading. Everyone was sad and in mourning, until suddenly she could hear a very loud sound, a roar that made all the algae tremble and some animals came out swimming quickly. They all looked confused, but as the noise got closer to them they started to panic and raised their guard. They heard a roar even louder than all the previous ones, also a great blow, when the paraton noises were all confused. A great cloud of dust covered the gar, many coughed and others closed their eyes. Poppy opened her eyes and saw a figure. -Ba-Barb? - Saying that, everyone opened their eyes and smiled, she was the queen of rock. Barb was still alive, tired and with a guitar in her hands. -BARB! - The trollex king separated himself from his essence and swam out to embrace his beloved. -TROLLEX- -BARB- -TROLLEX- Both lovers hugged each other tightly and began to cry on the shoulders of others, the tears danced with each other, they were happy and very happy, barb was fine, Trollex had recovered his beloved, her colors began to shine, everything was fine. . The others covered their eyes, there is something that trollex did not realize. -Barb my love is it okay? -Trollex took his cheek, he was very worried -I'm fine and you? you look awful-answered Barb -I'm fine but you- -Who cares? -Asked barb -I care- said trollex hugging her Barb just laughs and trollex smiles at her, the king of techno picks up her girlfriend and starts kissing her whole face with a warm smile. -what happened?- -I'll just say that ... I tried to find something to help me play techno, I found an eel and ... I killed it to the point of rock- barb looked at the distance, trollex also looked, and could see a large eel with the exploded and bleeding ears. -HAHAHAHA- trollex laughed a little, he was happy to have her in his arms again. The clock struck 12, it was a new day, it was the anniversary of trollex and barb. -Happy anniversary my queen- Trollex kiss barb on the lips -Thank you my king ... I'm sorry I don't have a song for you-Barb said a little disappointed- I wanted to write you a song in the kind of song that you love, I wanted to show you how much I love you, the music that you love, that reminds me of you, I wanted you to know how much you mean to me

-Barb you don't need anything like that, I'm happy just to see you, you didn't have to risk your life for me, my music is not what I love the most, that's you, my music would no longer be music if you are, since you arrived my music improved, before my music was only music, it was something normal, and before it meant something to me, but, looking at the past, I realize that now, with you, that music compared to the me of the past is not music, now it's magic, that's how I feel about you- the techmo king tells his girlfriend Barb just kissed her boyfriend, they both closed their eyes letting themselves be carried away by the moment, both were happy, her love was strong, it was perfect. -Hey guys- The moment didn't last long, Poppy spoke up and interrupted them. They parted ways and Barb gave Poppy a bad look. -I just wanted to tell you that ... you can cover yourself Barb- the queen of pop pointed to Barb and she was completely naked. -AHHH- the queen screamed and hid behind trollex -Ya heart - trollex charge her to take her home (...) I was hanging out with you and then I realized I didn't think it was true I was surprised When I found out that I have fallen in love with you If I told you how I feel But i can't help it I'm falling in love with you And i can't quit Because i'm trapped in you And it could be pathetic and you could be skeptical But I just want to be with you Please tell me boy Can you give me a hint? Or it happens because I just want to be with you I am scared To tell you how i feel Maybe it's better if I try to hide the truth For me and for you But I'm still caught up in you, ooh, ooh I, I'm still falling in love with you For you Barb finished singing while she caressed the cheek of her lover, it was 4 in the morning of her anniversary, the trollex king was only sleeping peacefully in the bed of his girlfriend. Barb smiled at every move her partner made while she dreamed, seeing him, she imagined a thousand things, things would come true, a future together and the day that officially Rock and Techno would unite and form: electro rock . END -------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------- Hahaha well this is the first one-shot of the couple, I honestly think I look bad, I would like to know your opinion, do you like it? Give ideas for more one.shot Thank you for reading. Sorry if the translation is bad, English is not my mother tongue

#King trollex #Barb #trolls world tour #barllex

[loove-persevering]

The Other Holland (Steve Harrington Imagine)

Description: Barb had a sister, that sister is you. What happens when the answers don’t add up? What happens when you find yourself smitten over Steve Harrington in the process? Will you find out why Barb was alone that night and why Nancy left her? 

A/N: This is the start to a new series that Im so excited about! I haven’t seen a fic with Barb’s sister before! I think adding in a relationship with Steve (Seeing as him and Nancy were basically the reason Barb was alone) Would be a pretty big twist for the reader and how she could potentially find out! Let me know what you think! Should I continue? 

 Barb was your big sister, you were almost total opposites but she kept you grounded that was for sure. Ever since she went missing you could just picture her walking through that door like she usually did, you would both sit down and have dinner with your parents and talk about your day just like old times. But now that seemed like such a distant memory, because Barb had been missing a while and without her home didn’t feel like home anymore. 

  you remember the day you found out she was missing it was just like any other day, she had told you her and Nancy were going to the ceremony for Will Byers to show support. The only thing was you knew for a fact she wasn’t there, you were and you didn’t see her that entire night. Hawkins was a pretty small town and while the turnout was big it wouldn’t have been hard for you to find her in the crowd. 

 ‘’Hey Nancy?’’ You ask interrupting her conversation with Steve, Tommy, and Carol. 

‘‘Y/N hey,’‘ You say noticing the awkward tone in her voice. 

‘‘I was wondering if you’ve seen Barb? I didn’t see her this morning and I haven’t seen her all day.’‘ You explain nervously feeling all of them looking at you. 

‘‘Uh,’‘ She hesitates looking around at the rest of them, ‘‘I think she’s at the library, she had some studying to do she said.’‘ She explains to you. You nod your head giving her a small smile before quickly making your way to the library in search of your sister. 

 You never found her that day, and when you went home your mom and dad were both in full panic mode, first Will Byers and now Barb? ‘’Mom I’m sure she’s okay, It’s Barb!’’ You try and assure her. If you knew one thing it was that your sister wasn’t much of a fighter but she knew how to take care of herself, she was easily the smartest person in the room at all times and it showed and if she was in danger she’d know how to get out of it. 

 It’s been a while since she disappeared and Steve and Nancy were coming over for dinner tonight, something they had been doing since she went missing. You really didn’t understand why but you didn’t question it since you liked Nancy, Steve too. You had always had a crush on Steve but you were a year younger than them and he was head over heels for Nancy that was one thing Barb had been telling you about before she went missing. She was saying how different Nancy had been acting since her and Steve began dating and how she was scared once Nancy got in with Steve and all his friends that she would forget about her. You assured her Nancy wouldn’t do that, her and Barb had been best friends for so long that their friendship would last till they were old and wrinkly. That was only a few weeks before she disappeared.  

 You hear the door bell ring and you get up excited to see someone other than your parents for a change. Just like Barb you were ahead in your studies and doing really well in school but with her missing you had taken some time off and the school allowed you to fulfill your studies at home. You swing open the door seeing Steve and Nancy standing there and Nancy rushes in giving you a hug, Steve gives you a one handed hug that was pretty awkward but you appreciated the gesture. ‘’Hey!’’ You say to them both. 

Your mom walks in then ushering them into the dining room already having set up for dinner, they just bought KFC. We use to have a lot more home cooked meals but when Barb went missing it seemed like any food we made in this house stopped as nobody had the effort to cook anything. ‘’I love KFC,’’ Steve says taking a bite of his chicken leg and you hold back a laugh and you see him glance in your direction giving you a small smile. 

You made some small talk for a while about school and it seemed odd not having Barb around because while Nancy’s life was in full swing you couldn’t help but wonder what Barb would be doing right now if she was here. ‘’I noticed a for sale sign out front?’’ Nancy says in more of a questioning tone, ‘’I hope that’s the neighbors.’’ 

 You felt yourself shrink back into your seat as your mom looked to your dad then back to Steve and Nancy, ‘’We hired a man named Murray Bauman, he was an investigative journalist for the Chicago Sun Times. He does some freelance now and agreed to take Barb’s case.’’ She says excitedly. You had your doubts about the man, one half hoped more than anything he’d find your sister and bring her home. But on the other hand you were scared your parents were going to put out all this money and get nothing only to be left with our hearts more torn then they already were. 

‘‘That’s great!’‘ Steve says looking over the card your father had tucked away in his pocket. ‘‘That’s really great, right Nanc?’‘ Steve asks showing the card to her. 

‘‘What exactly does that mean?’‘ Nancy asks. 

‘‘It means he’s gonna do what that lazy son of a bitch Jim Hopper-’‘ Your father lets out your mom touching his arm letting him know he was saying too much. 

‘‘Dad,’‘ You say looking at him with pleading eyes and he mutters a sorry under his breath. 

‘‘It means were going to find our Barb,’‘ Your mom says and you can feel the raw emotion in her voice the mix of sadness but hope. 

‘‘Is that why your selling the house?’‘ Nancy asks. She looks over to you and you nod your head yes. 

‘‘Yep,’‘ You say and for the first time in a while Steve looks over at you sympathetically. 

‘‘Don’t you worry about us sweetie, we’re fine. More than fine!’‘ She lies. Truth was none of you were fine you were walking around on egg shells around each other. You hadn’t been in Barb’s room since the last time you talked to her in there, you couldn’t bare to look at it not knowing if you’d ever be able to just walk in her room and talk with her again. While barb and you were different you had a special connection with one another, you didn’t look like sisters but you had the exact same personality one that was older beyond your years. You knew things your parents didn’t want to tell you, you knew how mad they were that the Hawkins police couldn’t find her. 

You watch Nancy shift uncomfortably in her seat and then look to Steve who was watching her closely. She excuses herself and your left in awkward silence, ‘’It’s finger lickin’ good,’’ He says and you look at him a hint of a smile on your face. After a few minutes of more awkward silence you walk back to the bathroom wanting to make sure Nancy was okay and you can hear crying from the other side of the door. You wait outside for a few minutes and she finally comes out her eyes still filled with tears she quickly wipes them when she notices you. 

‘‘I get it,’‘ You say trying to sound strong. It was one thing to be the sister of the girl who’d gone missing, people were always asking if you were okay and how your parents were doing. You hadn’t thought about how you weren’t the only person that lost someone, Nancy had lost her best friend. ‘‘You’re her best friend.’‘ You tell her giving her a smile. 

‘‘She’s mine,’’ She says smiling at you through her tears. ‘‘I’m so sorry Y/N I-’‘ She begins to say but is cut off when Steve walks in the hallway. 

‘‘Everything okay?’‘ He asks looking to Nancy then you. 

‘‘Yeah,’‘ You say nodding at him. You look back and forth between him and Nancy not really sure what to say. 

‘‘You should come hangout with us sometimes Y/N,’‘ Nancy says. Steve gives her a look, ‘‘Get your mind off everything, I can’t imagine being here all the time..’‘ She says and you nod looking around the house noticing more pictures of Barb. 

‘‘Yeah,’‘ Steve agrees giving you a nod, ‘‘We can go to a movie or get some ice cream or whatever you wanna do!’‘ Steve suggest. 

‘‘I’d really like that,’‘ You tell them truthfully, it would be nice to get out and do something normal. ‘’You guys are leaving soon?’’ You ask them and they both look to each other and nod. 

‘‘Yeah it’s getting late,’‘ Nancy says. 

‘‘Alrighty!’‘ You say and offer to walk them to the door. You walk them out and your parents wish them a goodbye, before they leave Nancy pulls you aside. 

‘‘You should come to Tina’s party with us, on Halloween!’‘ She suggest. 

‘‘I don’t know...I’ve never really been to a party.’‘ You say rubbing your hands over your arm feeling the cold air. ‘‘Who would drive?’‘ You ask. 

‘‘I would!’‘ Steve interrupts. ‘‘Don’t worry I’m a safe driver,’‘ He says smiling admirably. 

‘‘I’ll come,’‘ You say to them and they both smile and wish you a goodnight. You liked Nancy a lot, she was sweet and pretty and funny and in a way kind of like another sister to you. Since you were so close in age Barb and her didn’t really mind when you’d tag along with them, you knew Nancy had a younger brother and usually got really annoyed with him. 

 There was one thing you were itching to ask her though, if her and Barb were together that night then how did Barb go missing? Where was Nancy? How did nobody see anything? You constantly asked yourself these questions and maybe one day you’d finally get an answer, you could only hope that would be the day your sister came home. 

 PART 2 COMING SOON (Please leave feedback so I know people want more:)) 

Part 2

#steve x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #joe keery #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #Barb #barbra holland #justice for barb #stranger things show #netflix #imagine #billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader

[planetsam]

Love your writing! Prompt/ask: Isabel & Alex friendship development post finale -- they'll both be processing a lot & maybe looking for a confidant who gets it. & I'd love to see their types of humor together!

Alex almost backs out.

Sharing his feelings isn’t his strong suit, especially not about this. He chooses a group a few towns over. He doesn’t need one that might get back to his dad. It’s an hour drive but he makes it and sits outside until it’s five minutes to starting. He forces himself to go in. He gets one of the paper cups of bad coffee and finds his seat among the handful of people. Most are women. He picked a coed group for a reason, one that focused on LGBTQ+. Which makes this even more difficult. But in for a penny, in for a pound and so he takes his seat as the person in charge comes in.

“Thank you all for coming,” she says, “being here is the first step so I commend you all. We have some new faces, would anyone like to share?”

They go around and share stories, stories that are familiar to Alex but he doesn’t feel more comforted by them. He feels like he doesn’t want to be here. Attention is slowly shifting to him and he’s prepared to just bolt. But then the door opens and everyone swings towards it. Alex stares too. Apparently his brilliant idea to go a few towns away was brilliant enough to have occurred to someone else. Standing in the doorway looking torn between fleeing and murdering someone is none other than Isobel Evans.

“Is this the abuse support group for LGBTQ+?” She asks.

“Yes,” the group leader says, “join us,” she motions her in.

Isobel crosses the room with quick precise steps. Alex feels like he’s about a foot tall. She doesn’t seem embarrassed or ashamed to be here and he wants the ground to open him up and swallow him whole. A flicker of surprise crosses her face when she looks at him, but she quickly pushes it away and deposits her purse next to her seat. When she clasps her hands together, Alex can see that her ring finger is bare.

“Would you like to share?” The leader offers.

Isobel pauses for a second but then she sets her face and looks directly at the woman.

“My name is Isobel,” she says, “I recently discovered my husband was grooming me since I was a teenager, married me and abused me the entire time,” she continues, “also I’m bisexual.”

He has no idea how she can say it like that.

Apparently neither does anyone else. Then again, Isobel is unique. God knows she was more popular in school than Max or Michael. And since school she’s the most successful every way you look at it. When she sets her mind to something, the world had better watch out. And it seems that she has set her mind to this. When the leader looks at him, Alex does his best to channel her before realizing that’s exactly what he doesn’t want to do. He has to be his own hero in this.

“I’m Alex,” he says, “my father was verbally and physically abusive to me because I was gay.”

The world doesn’t end when he says it aloud. It makes him slightly braver as he continues.

“I was blackmailed into going to war and I’m proud, to have served my country,” he says, “but I lost a lot,” he continues, “and I feel like when I look in the mirror, the only thing I see is him. I don’t know how to be myself.”

When he meets Isobel’s eyes, she gives him the saddest, most encouraging smile he’s ever gotten.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” Isobel says.

“Great minds?” He offers as they get their paper cups of bad coffee during the break, “you got here fast. I couldn’t admit what happened for a long time.”

“Bull in a china shop,” she says with a shrug, “but I have to do this. I can’t be there for Michael while Max is—“ she shrugs.

Something cold slithers down Alex’s spine.

“While Max is what?” He asks.

Isobel’s perfect eyebrows draw together.

“Max is asleep,” she says, stressing the word so he knows she’s not talking about the natural kind, “did Michael not tell you?”

“I haven’t talked to him in weeks,” Alex says.

“What?!” Isobel bursts out. “Whose he spending all his time with?” Alex looks away, “oh.”

“Yeah,” he says.

He can’t be mad. Not after everything he’s put Michael through these past few years. He said that it was over so Michael found someone. Or acted on something that was already there. Alex knows he shouldn’t have left Michael behind. Just as equally, he knows that he did. Now he has to live with the consequences of it. Isobel looks devastated and even in the midst of what he feels, in the midst of trying to share, a part of him wants to shake the answers out of her.

“Let’s go back?”

“Yeah,” he says again.

They arrive separately for weeks.

Some days they talk, some days they don’t acknowledge the other past a quick nod. It’s mind blowing to hear Isobel talk though. She reworks everything seamlessly. He always chalked Michael’s hesitance to share up to his past. But Isobel reworks everything so that if he didn’t know the truth he would never have guessed she was lying. His own truth is hard to choke out. Sometimes he thinks he chokes on it when he speaks. But he gets the barbs out. Finally one day he can’t avoid it anymore.

“I hurt someone I love,” he says finally, “I was a coward and they moved on,” he looks down at his coffee, trying to put his words together in a way that makes sense, “which I know is my fault and I don’t blame him. But when I see him I just hear my dad’s voice.”

Afterwards Isobel walks over to him.

“Let’s get coffee,” she says, “real coffee,” she adds.

Alex doesn’t want to but he nods.

“Look, I love both of my brothers,” she says, “but Michael’s a physical person, he always has been,” she continues, “he’s either going to fight or fuck and since Max is asleep, it’s the latter.”

“Talking about this with you is weird,” Alex says.

“Weird’s my speciality,” Isobel says and points at him with her fork, “Michael likes you. More than anyone else. You’re his person. Or he wants you to be.”

“I doubt that,” Alex says.

“Stop being stubborn about this. You are,” she emphasizes, “he and Maria are cute but—“ she shakes her head, “cute just means you’ve got fucked up things no-one can see.”

“I thought your marriage was perfect,” Alex says.

“And I planned a parade in your honor,” Isobel replies, “things are never what they seem,” she sits back, “Michael needs this group,” she says. Alex shakes his head. Michael accepting help will be a cold day in hell, “he needs SAA first.”

“SAA?”

“Sex Addicts Anonymous,” Isobel says, completely straight faced before she grins.

“I resent them for not seeing it,” Isobel says in a careful tone, “I shouldn’t but I do,” she looks down, “it feels like I can’t trust anyone. Like I have to put on an act.”

Murmurs of agreement go up. Isobel runs her thumb across her finger.

“I’m afraid of my ring imprint fading. I’m afraid of looking normal and not being normal.”

Afterwards he waits by her car. She comes out and looks at him. Alex knows that he shouldn’t say anything, that everything should stay in the room but he grasps her hand.

“You’re never going to be normal to me.”

She hugs him so tightly he thinks she might have broken a rib.

“I need a ride to group,” she says over the phone, “my car’s in the shop. It seems stupid to ride separately anyway.”

“Sure, I can give you a ride,” Alex says, though they both know it’s a good idea for them to come separately. Even though everyone knows they’re acquaintances at this point, “I’ll be by in twenty minutes.”

He gets there and walks up to her door, ringing the bell. He hears her shout and would recognize the timber of the voice through the door anywhere. Instead of pretending to be oblivious, he glares as she opens the door. She motions in him in and he wants to protest actually but she’s an alien and he knows better than to get in her way. Her house is beautiful inside. Naturally Alex thinks the most beautiful thing in there is the one currently fishing in the fridge of a beer.

“I said I’d take you,” Michael says, “I just said I wasn’t going. Besides are you sure the other kooks there should be driving?”

“I don’t know Michael, what does your second beer think about it?” Isobel snaps, “forgive my brother. Though I guess I don’t have to explain that to you.”

Michael’s entire body stiffens and the word ‘kooks’ hangs in the air. He straightens up and looks at Alex who gives the tightest smile he’s given in weeks. Being around Michael is always hard. Always. In a million different ways apparently. Michael really is a miserable liar as his jaw hangs open and he looks between the pair of them like his worst nightmare has come true.

“No,” he says.

“Yes,” Isobel replies.

“Can we go?” Alex asks, “if we’re late—“

“Ugh, you’re right,” Isobel grabs her house keys, “come on.”

Michael stares. For once he and Alex are silent at the same time.

“We’re not avoiding each other,” Alex says. Isobel raises her eyebrows, “we just have nothing to say to each other.”

“Come on Alex, of course you do,” she argues, “you two are in love with each other.”

“He’s dating my friend,” Alex points out.

“From high school,” Isobel says, “and we agreed he’s using her. Not dating her. The fact that it’s gone on for this long is insane.”

Alex has somehow become the driver to group. Isobel’s car is back but he shows up early at her door and she goes. Sometimes Michael is there, sometimes he’s not. They don’t say anything to each other though and even Alex can admit he’s steaming into petty territory. It’s right next to coward-land and borders passive aggressive republic. The mirror hurts and though they are careful to not always be talking about group or therapy or how broken they are, sometimes the car rides can feel more like an extension of it.

“Can you come in?” Isobel asks. Alex looks at her, “I need a second opinion on something.”

“Isobel, just because I’m gay—“ he starts.

“Your jacket costs triple digits,” she snaps and he closes his mouth, “please? It’s black?”

Alex sighs and gets out of the car.

It’s easier.

Isobel leads him through the house. He can hear Michael in the other room with the radio on but he doesn’t want to think what that sound might be masquerading. Isobel leads him into her room and puts him on the chair, vanishing into her wardrobe. Alex almost sags with relief as she closes the doors. He’s gay but he doesn’t really want to know what kind of lingerie Isobel favors. Michael shuffles in a moment later and they acknowledge each other with quick nods. He turns and doesn’t acknowledge the disappointment that comes over Michael’s face. A moment later Isobel comes out in a short black dress that is deceptively modest until she shows that a large swath of her back is visible.

“Looking good, Iz,” Michael says.

“You look great,” Alex echoes.

“Thank you,” she says to him and glares at Michael, “I don’t trust your fashion sense.”

“I look good!” Michael protests.

Isobel looks back at Alex.

“I’m going on a date,” she says.

Alex is surprised at how happy he feels to hear this. Who would have thought he’d actively cheer on Isobel Evans of all people. But here they are. Again her determination shoves her through anything that might stand in her way.  

“That’s great, I’m so happy for you,” he says./

Isobel beams.

“He or she?” Michael asks.

Isobel flushes a pretty rose color.

“She.”

“We should go on a double date if this works out,” Isobel says.

Alex looks away. Michael shifts his weight and tries to look casual.

“Isobel,” he says.

“We should!” She says, “that way you can get into the dating pool and I’ll be there to wingman for you. I am the best wingman.”

Alex thinks he’s making some progress in therapy. He really does. So even though it hurts like hell he finds himself nodding.

“Good,” he says, “I’m going to need the help.”

The date doesn’t work out.

Neither does the next one.

It’s not until they’re at the Crashdown that Alex realizes why.

“Isobel,” he scolds, “you have to talk to her.”

Isobel looks crestfallen. It says a lot about the town that saying Liz’s cousin has decided to stay is just accepted. Or maybe it just says a lot about people in general. But if they’re facing everything then this is on the table. Isobel looks horribly unsure and Alex would let her get away with it, if Rosa didn’t keep looking in their direction like she wants to say something. Best wingman his ass. He signals her and she hesitates only a moment before running over.

“Hi,” Alex says, “you must be the cousin I’ve heard so much about. I’m Alex. This is Isobel.”

“Hi,” Isobel says. Rosa’s lips flicker.

“Hi,” she says.

“Isobel is the town event planner,” he says when they fall silent and just stare at each other, “she knows everywhere so if you need someone to show you around—“

“Liz is on it, I’m sure,” Isobel says, not taking her eyes off Rosa.

“Liz was gone for ten years,” Alex says, “I’m sure she doesn’t know all the spots you do.” Isobel’s foot collides with his prosthetic and she swears like that’s his fault, “she gives a great tour.”

“I’d love that,” Rosa says before Isobel can kill him.

“You would?” Isobel repeats. Rosa nods, already scribbling something, “here’s my number.”

“G-got it,” Isobel says taking the piece of paper before putting on her best smile. She types it into her phone and sends a text, “now you’ve got mine.”

“We’ll hook up sometime,” Rosa says.

“I’d like that.”

Alex has a feeling that this date will work out.

Thankfully Isobel doesn’t try to push him to date. Not like she threatened. Rosa doesn’t have any friends. And Isobel mysteriously drops the issue in a way Alex would harp on about but other things come up. Things like his dad. And Project Shepherd and deciding what to do with his life. He misses one group meeting and is late to the next. Even though he knows that the late arrival attention will make him probably be in the hot seat. He still goes because he needs to. He comes in as quietly as he can but no-one pays him any mind.

“We have a new member,” Dr. Delfino says, “would you like to introduce yourself?”

Michael forces his hands from twisting around his hat, clears his throat and looks at Dr. Delfino. At the last moment, when he reaches out Isobel grabs his hand and locks their fingers together. Whether that grounds him or physically keeps him from leaving, Alex isn’t sure. But he works his jaw with all the Michael Guerin stubbornness he knows.

“I’m Michael,” he says.

It’s a start.

#roswell new mexico #roswell nm fanfic #alex manes #isobel evans #rosa ortecho #michael guerin #malex #if you squint #mostly alex and isobel become friends #malex fic

[splendidlyimperfect]

Sting's entire life changed when he was eleven years old and his best friend Rogue told a secret that he'd promised to keep. Taken away from the father who abused him and the best friend who'd tried to save him, Sting tried to start a new life with his uncle. But the trauma wasn't easy to escape, and eventually Sting turned to drinking to forget the things that hurt.

Now he's an adult, and he hasn't been sober in years. But when drinking nearly kills him and a near-stranger saves his life, Sting has a chance to turn his life around, and maybe become the man that Rogue deserves to love.

Chapter Summary: Sting's trying to move on with his life, but he can't stop wondering why his dad hurt him.  

Chapters (8/?): 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster, Natsu Dragneel & Sting Eucliffe, Sting Eucliffe & Weisslogia Characters: Sting Eucliffe, Natsu Dragneel, Rogue Cheney, Gray Fullbuster, Weisslogia (Fairy Tail) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Child Abuse, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Trans Character, Trans Sting, Friendship, Childhood Friends, Sting-focused story, Sting is a disaster, Natsu's a great friend, Rogue tries to do what's right, Tumblr: FTLGBTales Series: Part 2 of i'm still standing

**TW for flashback to physical abuse

-----

frac·ture | \ ˈfrak-chər noun :  the act or process of breaking or the state of being broken

.

vi spring age thirteen

.

A few weeks into the summer after grade eight, Sting wakes up to shouting.

He yawns, sitting up and rubbing his face as he tries to pick out who is saying what. It sounds like Uncle Wes, but Sting’s never heard him yell before, so it seems unlikely. Sting quickly pulls on a sweater, then cracks the door open and peeks down the stairs.

It is Uncle Wes. He’s standing in the front entrance, talking who whoever is outside. He’s not yelling anymore, but Sting can still make out what he’s saying.

“Get out,” Uncle Wes says. His voice is hard and fierce in a way Sting’s never heard before. “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing.” There’s a pause, and he adds, “I don’t care if you’re my brother.”

Sting freezes, fingers wrapped around the banister as the words slowly sink in. He’s about to take a step forward when the voice on the other side of the door gets louder.

“Just lemme see her.”

Sting’s heart stops and he can’t breathe because the last time he heard that voice everything was broken, and his head hurt and he couldn’t stop crying and—

“You lost that right a long time ago,” Uncle Wes growls. “You know you’re not allowed to be here. Get out.”

Everything’s going blurry and Sting sits down hard on the top step, shaking as the world falls away around him. He tries to ground himself – that’s what his therapist keeps saying, but every single thing she’s ever told him slips away as he struggles to keep breathing.

“I’m her fath—”

“You are nothing,” Uncle Wes says. There’s a loud bang and the sound of splintered wood, and Sting bites back a terrified scream, wrapping his arms around his legs and pressing his forehead to his knees.

Go away, he thinks desperately, wishing he were brave enough to open his eyes. Please don’t hurt me. I’ll be good. I’ll be quiet. Please.

“Just let me—”

“I told you to get out.” Uncle Wes’ voice is the quiet kind of angry that leaves Sting with a low, thrumming panic in his chest. His arms ache where he’s digging his fingernails into the skin, and the pain is the only real thing right now. “I will never let you hurt him again. Ever.”

Continue reading on AO3

“Him? I didn’t—”

“Save your bullshit for your parole officer,” Uncle Wes growls. “You might have some people fooled, but I was the one who picked him up from the hospital. I know what you did, and don’t you dare think for one goddamned second that I’m ever going to let you anywhere near my nephew.”

When the other voice start shouting, the tiny part of Sting that’s been holding onto reality snaps, and he’s eleven again, terrified and hiding.

Please, he thinks desperately as tears slip down his cheeks. He wants Kelly to find him and hug him and tell him it’s going to be okay.

Sting’s not sure how much time passes – the shouting stops and the door slams, and after that he doesn’t listen. Eventually, he hears someone coming up the stairs and he presses himself against the wall, heart slamming against his chest so hard that he can’t breathe. Something touches his arm and he flinches, bringing his hand up to cover his face.

“It’s just me,” a gentle voice says, and Sting hears the stair creak as Uncle Wes settles down next to him. “I’m so sorry, he’s gone now. Are you okay? ”

Sting shakes his head, trying to stop shaking – it’s like every piece of him is trying to escape in different directions. He holds his breath and grinds his teeth and bites the inside of his lip, but none of it works. Eventually he peeks up at Uncle Wes, who gives Sting a sad smile and opens his arms.

Sting hesitates for only a second before accepting the hug. “You’re safe now,” Uncle Wes murmurs as Sting cries against his shoulder, curling up against his chest. “I’m so sorry. He’s not allowed to be here.”

“Wh-why…” Sting can’t make words yet, just focuses on the gentle weight of Uncle Wes’ hand on his arm. “He’s… I…”

“I’m sorry,” Uncle Wes says again, kissing the top of Sting’s head. “He’s not in jail anymore, but he has someone called a probation officer that makes sure he follows the rules. One of those rules is that he’s not allowed to come near you, and he’s going to get in trouble for being here.”

Sting rubs his face with the back of his hand as the pounding in his chest starts to come back to normal. He lets out a shaky breath, then asks, “why was he here?”

It’s not the question he expected to ask, but the fear in his chest is slowly shifting into a barbed, burning anger.

“I’m not sure,” Uncle Wes admits, pulling back and brushing Sting’s hair out of his eyes. “But that doesn’t matter, he can’t come here, and he can’t see you.”

Sting rubs his face and pulls away from Uncle Wes. His skin feels raw, stretched over the wrong body, everything sharp and aching.

“I wanna be alone,” he says quietly. Uncle Wes nods, standing up and reaching out to help Sting up. Sting stares at the outstretched hand, then shakes his head and pushes himself to his feet.

“I’ll come check on you in a little bit,” Uncle Wes says, taking a step back down the stairs. “Maybe we can get pizza tonight?”

Sting doesn’t say anything, just rubs his arms and heads back down the hallway to his room. His mind is a jumbled mess, fear warring with a sudden, dangerous fury that sparks and burns through him.

He spends the rest of the weekend hiding in his bedroom. Uncle Wes tries to coax him out a few times with offers of pizza and movies, but Sting just shakes his head, curling up on the bed and staring at the wallpaper.

His dad isn’t in jail anymore.

Uncle Wes had talked to him about it a few weeks ago. He’d tried to explain things like plea bargains and sentencing, but it had all gone over Sting’s head. In the end, all that had mattered was that Sting’s dad knew the right kind of people, and even the scar on Sting’s forehead wasn’t enough to keep him away.

Let me talk to my daughter.

Sting can’t remember the last thing his dad said to him. Everything about that day is hazy – whenever his therapist asks about it, all Sting can feel is pain and nausea and a low, thrumming sense of terror. He knows that his dad yelled and swore when the police came, but before, when he’d hurt Sting, he’d been quiet.

The silence had been cold and terrifying, and when Sting closes his eyes and forces himself to try and remember, he nearly throws up. It’s not like a memory in movies – there’s no timeline to it, no clear image of what happened. Instead it’s pieces. Bits of things he’s pushed away for so long.

The front door clicking shut. Dad’s cold, dark eyes. Sunlight glinting off the broken glass. Trying so hard to be quiet. Dad’s hand in his hair. His head hitting the coffee table. Bright sparks of pain. The TV screen shattering. Fingers tight around his wrist. Heart rabbit-thumping as he hid in the closet, trying to be small, trying to be quiet, trying to be good.

Sting growls in frustration and sits up, throwing his pillow across the room. It knocks his pile of books to the floor, and Sting stares at them, picturing tearing out all the pages and ripping the covers to pieces.

He wants to break something like his dad broke him.

Instead he grabs his other pillow, pressing it against his face while he screams. The anger burns through him, hot and jagged, and no matter how many tears soak the fabric, it won’t go away.

Why? The word circles through his head, repeating over and over until it overwhelms him and he punches the mattress. Why did you hurt me, why didn’t you love me, why wasn’t I enough, why, why, why?

Sting tosses the pillow aside and flops back onto the mattress, staring up at the ceiling as something determined settles into his chest. His dad is terrifying, but he’s the only one with answers, and Sting finally has a chance to find out.

~

When Uncle Wes goes to sleep, Sting slips out of his room and creeps down to the kitchen. Uncle Wes’ phone is sitting on the counter charging, and Sting stares at it for a long time before picking it up and opening Uncle Wes’ contact list. He scrolls through it, searching for his dad’s name. He doesn’t expect to find it – Uncle Wes hasn’t talked to Sting’s dad since he went to jail, and even before that. But his number is saved there, and Sting clicks on it before he can change his mind.

He doesn’t have time to feel afraid because his dad picks up after the first ring and growls, “thought you told me to fuck off.”

It feels like being slapped. Everything in Sting tenses and he nearly hangs up.

“What do you want, Wes?” his dad asks.

Sting sucks in a shaky breath, then whispers, “dad?”

There’s a long silence on the other end of the phone. Sting’s convinced that his dad can hear his heart pounding – it’s slamming against his chest so hard he can barely breathe. He sinks down to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest and pinching the back of his arm to keep himself from crying.

“Abbey?” his dad says eventually.

“Yeah,” Sting says quietly, even though he hasn’t heard that name in over a year. He looks over at the stairs, listening carefully for any movement from Uncle Wes, but the only sound in the house is the dishwasher running.

“Does Wes know you’re calling me?”

Sting shakes his head. “No,” he says. “He said you weren’t allowed to see me.”

His dad sighs, and Sting can picture him rubbing the bridge of his nose and staring at the ground with his jaw tense and lines on his forehead. “I’m not,” his dad says eventually. “But I want to.”

The nausea comes back immediately, filling Sting’s stomach with bile that he can taste at the back of his throat. He forces himself to say, “me too.”

“Can you come to the park?” his dad asks, and it takes Sting a second to realize that he’s talking about the park next to their old home. Crocus is over two hours away by bus, but Sting knows where Uncle Wes’ wallet is, and he can walk to the stop from their house.

“Yeah,” he says. He presses his forehead against his knees. Part of him thinks he should just ask his dad now, on the phone, but Sting needs to see his face when he answers the question. Sting just needs to know. If he hurries, he can make it there and back to the house before Uncle Wes wakes up.

“Okay,” his dad says. His voice is soft, suddenly, and Sting clutches the phone tighter to keep his hand from trembling.

“I’ll be there in a couple hours,” he says, staring out the window at the cloudy, moonless sky. “See you soon.”

As soon as he hangs up the phone, Sting runs to the bathroom and throws up. He shivers, spitting the taste out of his mouth and wiping away the sweat on his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. He can’t stop shaking, can’t stop thinking about being eleven and throwing up in the closet because his head hurt so badly he could barely see.

Eventually he picks himself up off the floor and runs the tap, splashing his face and rinsing out his mouth. Then he stares at himself in the mirror for a long time. Eventually he combs his hair to cover his scar, then takes a deep breath and leaves for the bus stop.

~

Sting makes it to the park without throwing up again. He shoves his hands deep in his pockets to keep them from shaking, and every time he closes his eyes and opens them again, the lights around him blur. It’s like he’s floating behind everything; a ghost of someone who isn’t afraid.

He drags the terrified, furious pieces of himself over the sidewalk cracks, across the dirty asphalt and the plants growing through the concrete. When he sees the bench where he used to meet Rogue in the mornings on the way to school, something cracks in Sting’s chest and he starts to cry, desperately wiping at his eyes with the sleeves of his sweater.

He can’t cry. Not now. Right now, he needs to be brave, because he needs to know why.

A hand drops onto Sting’s shoulder and he pulls away quickly, spinning around and stumbling backward as his heart pounds against his ribs. It takes him a second to realize that the hand is attached to a person, and that the person is his father.

“Abbey?”

His dad looks the same. Nothing’s changed in the last three years except the graying stubble on his chin. Sting stares at him, a rush of anger flooding through him as all the moments he’s been trying to avoid catch up to him.

“I…” Sting tries to say something, but he can’t quite breathe around the mix of fury and fear. When his dad takes a step toward him, Sting scrambles backward, nearly tripping over a crack in the sidewalk, and catches himself on the arm of the park bench. His dad’s movements are uncoordinated, and it takes Sting a second to realize that he smells like beer.

Everything Sting had planned to say is instantly gone, determined resentment replaced by terror, and instead he whispers, “I’m sorry,” because that’s all he’s ever said to his father. I’m sorry, I’ll be good, I’ll be quiet, I promise.

“His nephew,” Sting’s dad says softly, and his eyes widen as he finally puts the pieces together. “You’re a…”

“Please,” Sting begs, digging his fingernails into his palms as he takes short, shallow breaths. All he wants to know is why. “I won’t… I didn’t do anything wr-wrong, I was trying to be quiet and I don’t understand why you…”

“You think you’re a boy,” his dad says, ignoring the way Sting’s stumbling over his words. He reaches out for Sting’s arm and Sting pushes himself further back toward the bench, but his father’s fingers close around his wrist. Suddenly Sting is six and crying, eight and hiding, nine and begging, eleven and not knowing what he did wrong.

“I…”

“What the hell has he been doing with you?”

“Nothing,” Sting says, trying to keep his voice steady as he tugs at his dad’s grip. “Let go of me.”

His father’s face is cold, and he tightens his grip on Sting’s wrist. Shadows play across his cheeks from the dim light of the streetlamps, making him look sharp and dangerous. Now that he’s closer, it’s clear that he’s been drinking – his eyes are red and the look he’s giving Sting makes the scar on his forehead hurt.

“Why?” Sting asks, every muscle in his body tense as he tries not to pull away. If he fights back, it’ll just be worse.

“Why what?” his dad mutters, and Sting can’t stop crying.

“You…” Sting swallows, then rubs at his face with the sleeve of his hoodie, trying to keep the tears from spilling down his cheeks. “I jus —”

“Stop it,” his dad snaps, tightening his grip on Sting’s wrist until it hurts. It always hurts. “You’re so goddamn emotional. Always crying about stupid shit.”

grow up

stop crying

don’t be such a baby

“I’m n-not—” Sting starts, but his dad interrupts, yanking him forward and hissing, “Shut up.”

Sting squeezes his eyes shut and turns his head, but the blow he’s expecting never comes. Instead, the grip on his wrist loosens and he stumbles, hitting the back of his legs against the park bench. When he looks up, a police officer is standing there, one hand on his dad’s shoulder.

“Is everything okay here?” she asks, and for a second Sting thinks it’s Kelly. A desperate part of him wants to hide behind her, but then he realizes that it’s not her, and he’s not supposed to be here, and his dad looks like he’s going to run.

Sting’s breath catches as he stares at his dad, and the realization settles in his chest, cold and sharp – there is no reason. There is no why. His dad didn’t hurt him because he was too loud, or because he didn’t do the dishes, or because he didn’t come home on time.

There is no why, and it’s never going to change.

“We’re fine,” his dad growls at the same time that Sting whispers, “Help.”

#fairy tail #ftlgbtales #ftlgbtfics #nbm2019 #stingue #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #trans character #fanfic #new chapter #update #tw: abuse #my fic

[lostinthe-pines-blog]

Beginnings - Chris pt. 2

This is a set of stories about the past and events that brought everyones Hartfeld favorites together. Once all parts have been told I hope to incorporate them into a slightly altered storyline about the Hartfeld gang. Though I will not get to far ahead of myself.  This first story brings us into Chris’s origins, how his parents met and how he came to be. Some names have been changed to fit with in my story line.

All character rights belong to PixelBerry and their Choices stories The Freshman, The Sophomore, The Junior and The Senior.  TAG LIST: ( this is a tag list from all of my pervious Freshman related fics. Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed) 

@jared2612  @katurrade @annekebbphotography @emerald-bijou @jellybean-marshmellow @jollybouquetangel

Chris was a “growing boy” as his mother put it. At 9 years he’d grown into his own personality and had picked up a vocabulary far beyond most of the other 4rd graders. He’d just welcomed a new baby sister named Josephine who joined himself and his 3-year-old brother Kyle. Chris resembled his father in almost every way, his piercing icy blue eyes and defined bone structure were Powell traits without a doubt. His brother resembled neither parent but more his grandmother on Barbra’s side with dark brown hair and rounder features. And Josephine was following the following her eldest brother in showcasing those strong Powell jeans. Lately his head was always on the patch of grass in the back-yard tossing footballs back and forth with his father, and never on the studies of the page in front of him. Barbra was beginning to notice him falling behind.

Every evening after dinner his father would take him outside and they’d practice for their own personal “Super Bowl.” Tossing his worn and deflating football back and forth. Chris idolized his father, his first word was ‘Dad’, when he was old enough, he’d only pick out clothes to match his dad, and when Josephine was born he suggested the name Frankie for her instead. The events of that winter would mark the young boy for the rest of his life. As hard as his mother would try, he would completely change after this.

But something was different about this cold winter night, and Barbra had even felt different for the weeks before. She was finding her daily list of things to do longer and longer, it didn’t take her to much time to figure out Frank had stopped helping out around the house. She’d begun to notice him coming home later and later, and she feared that if she asked him about it she’d get an answer she wouldn’t like.  She knew her husband inside and out, she hadn’t see disappointment like this on his face since his mother died. Something was eating at him, but he refused to talk. She hoping giving him time would let the situation cool down. She loved him still, with everything she had. But she began to believe that the changing of the years was something they wouldn’t survive.

Frank picked up Chris from the neighbors house and instead of taking him outside for their daily “superbowl” his father put on Star Wars Episode II -the movie he’d received for Christmas- on the Television in his parents large bedroom and asked him to look after his siblings. Chris had never been entrusted with his siblings before, and he wasn’t sure why he would now. But he’d always done what his father asked without question, and it wasn’t often he got to lay in his parents huge king size bed.

As Barbra cleaned the kitchen of their small home she listened to the baby monitor, detecting her daughter upstairs. The sounds of the brothers acting out the film they were watching distracted her from the sounds behind her. Frank Powell was leaving, over the earlier weeks he had been slowly packing the items he needed intending on leaving the rest behind. The self doubt he’d carried all his life had simply become to much for him. He’d decided that their lives would be better with out him, that he couldn’t continue to disappoint if he wasn’t there. He’d made the choice to leave only a few weeks after Josephine was born, knowing he was clueless when it came to raising a daughter. As he stole one last glance at the beautiful girl he’d once loved she turned, catching him in this weak moment. “Frank?” she questioned with half a smile on her face “What are the suitcases for?” she wondered as the smile wiped from her cheeks. She hoped it was not what she thought it was for, but she inevitably would be correct. “I’m sorry..” he whispered hoping he would have been able to sneak out and avoid this conversation forever. “Frank!” she yelled now dropping the wet dishrag wondering what was the correct next move to make as Frank moved toward the door. Shaking with anger and fear swelling inside her she raced infront of the door. “Do not be a coward Frank!” she screamed at him but he gave no response. Barbra was unmoving, she would not let him go not if she had a say in it. But her actions angered him and the already frustrated man bore new colors in those moments. “What do I tell Chris… My parents, Sheila and Rocky. What do I tell them! Why would you do this to us. Why!” she demanded not letting a single tear leave her body. But for the first time in her life she saw in him hatred. “Tell them whatever you want.” He snarled, he wasn’t thinking clearly and the signs she’d been ignoring for months became clear. He was drunk and he had been since the birth of their daughter. “They need you Frank, I need you.” Barbra pleaded on last time before her deepest fears became a reality. Franks firm hands grasped her shoulders tightly. “Stop!” she yelled “Ouch, Frank stop!” she tried to fight back but he held her arms tightly before tossing her to the side as if she meant nothing as if their years together were nothing. When she finally got back on her feet again he was gone and her heart was shattered. He’d never touched her like that before and it left her completely broken. She didn’t know where to go from there.

Chris fell behind in school that coming spring and while it was only third grade that’s not how his principal saw it; and he was ordered to repeat the year again. And the kids he thought were his friends mocked him endlessly. Chris began to find his new best friend after that, his mother. But being with her he was starting to grow up too fast. Being her support, and helping her with everything. But while he carried the handsome looks of his father, he held close the traits of his mother that he learned in those venerable years.

In 2006 the finances of Pennsylvania became too much and Barbra moved her small family back to her hometown. Downsizing from a house to a 3 bedroom apartment where Chris and Kyle would share a room. In what inevitably became a divorce Barbra had claimed all guardianship, and all friendships. Rocky and Sheila, now with kids of their own, assisted in their move. 

“Barb” Shelia spoke her her long time friend just moments before the sent off the moving van. “I wouldn’t have anything I have now with out you, you are still an incredible force, and you don’t need a husband to see that.” Sheila wrapped her friend in a tight hug as Rocky approached. 

“Have you head from him?” Barbra asked sheepishly to Rocky. Even after all these year she couldn’t find the power to fully move on. 

“No” Rocky sighed “I’ve tried, I’ve been trying for years but I’ve seen and heard nothing since he signed the papers” Rocky wished he could help the woman crossed from his that he’d always remember as the vibrant 18 year old. “I’m sorry Barbra for everything you’ve been through” 

“I’m not” Barbra stood tall, “I’m coming out on top of all of this, I know it.” she sighed “I can’t thank you both enough” her voice began to crack. 

“We are always here for you Barbra” Rocky noted as he joined hands with Sheila who had tears forming in her eyes for her college friend. See only a year or two after Frank and Barbra has moved to Philadelphia, Rocky and Sheila joined them. After Frank was gone they knew it wouldn’t be long before Barbra would leave too. 

“Please call me, weekly, daily even!” Sheila cheered with sadness in her tone. 

“I will Shell, I will” Barbra offered the best smile she could as she took a deep breath and climbed into the moving van. 

In 2010 Chris the now 16 year old football player would experience “love” for the first time when he began seeing the a perky blonde cheerleader named Nicole at Cherryfield High School. Barbra feared for the mental damage that could be done to her son, but she knew she needed to let him be a teenager. That she couldn’t judge his young love just because hers and turned sour. She held her tongue through his entire relationship with Nicole Patterson, ironically the daughter of the boy Barbra had attended her own Junior Prom with.

Chris gave every kindness his mother had passed on to him to the blonde girl. But she accepted none of it back, she was cruel in all the kindest ways. Chris was falling in love and she was using it to her advantage. Nicole was not Chris’s first kiss, that would forever belong to Julie Morris in Pennsylvania. But Nicole did take Chris’s virginity, though he did not take hers. Creating a stronger attachment to her after their intimate night Chris couldn’t see the error in her ways no matter how much his friends warned him that she was “evil.” She’d used him in every-way she could until the spring of their senior year as college acceptance letters filled the conversations of his friend group, the truth of who Nicole was, came out.

“Read it out loud again!” the sweet sound of Barbra’s voice flowed through the air of the same small three-bedroom apartment her family had called home since early 2006. “Welcome to Hartfeld!” Chris’s laugh flows through his voice again as he reads the news he never thought would come “It is with great enthusiasm that I write to congratulate you on your admission to Hartfeld University!” Chris continues as his mom bounces on the balls of her feet. Hartfeld was Chris’s last hope, the four other schools he’d applied to had denied his acceptance mostly for his juvenile misdemeanor from his middle school years. A mistake he regretted and was finally paying the consequences for. But it seemed that now Hartfeld was the only choice. In this moment of joy shared with his mother he began to worry. “Hartfeld is the farthest from here… it wasn’t my first choice.” Chris explained. He was worried about leaving his mother behind. He’d been helping her pay rent since the Lobster Shack hired him at 15 years old. Now he’d not only be taking that income away, he would also be adding a mountain of student debt to it as well. His fair skinned and sandy blonde mother didn’t seem to have a worry or care in her in this moment. She was merely happy for her strong but worry some son. Barbra sighed placing one hand over her oldest sons. “Christopher” she offers a comforting grin. “This is not the time to worry… this is the time to celebrate. So that’s what we are doing, dinner tonight at Lobster Shack I’ll call Old Joe see if we can have our normal booth.” She speaks while wrapping Chris into a tight hug. “Today is about you, not your mistakes, but your future. It will be a bright one I’m certain.” Chris nods pulling away from the hug, “Mom do you care if I invite Nicole?” he asks as his mother pulls out her phone to call the restaurant just down the street. “I don’t mind at all!” she chimes event though she truly despised the girl her son had taken liking too. Chris slides his phone out of his pocket looking quickly at the lock screen image of him and the vibrant blonde cheerleader at his final football game of his High School career. Moving quickly to his messages he texts the same girl in the photo as quickly as his fingers can move. After sending his invite it’s only a moment before she responds.

CHRIS: Babe! I got accepted to Hartfeld! Celebrating at the shack tonight. You down?? NICOLE: I’ll be there.

That evening Old Joe the man who’d helped the struggling Powell family all these years, and the owner of the Lobster Shack was there to serve them himself. Approaching the family first he offered a nod to Chris. “All that hard work is finally paying off!” Joe’s gravel filled yet pleasant voice exclaimed loudly. “We’ll miss you around the shack come fall, but we are all extremely proud of you.” “Thanks Joe, really… I couldn’t have made it all these years with out you” Chris nods in response while reaching his hand under the table to meet Nicole’s next to him. To his surprise her hand pulls away. Doing his best to hide the rejection on his face he places his order after the rest of his family. “Nicole” Kyle speaks up, the 14 year old with thick square glasses and the looks of his mother was very opposite from his older brother. “Are you going to Hartfeld too?” he questions innocently. “Actually!” Nicole hides a secret behind her nervous smile “I just got my letter for George Town early admission last week!” “Last week?” Chris looks to her quickly. “Congrats babe.. I, I wish I’d known” he says feeling guilty for her communication mistake. Barbra feeling the tension between them changes the subject as the dinner begins to come to a close. As Chris’s mother pays the bill and Nicole looks to Chris with harsh eyes and he knows something is wrong. “Walk me home? Please?” she asks sharply “Of course.”

The spring time breeze fills the night air in Cherryfield Maine as Chris is about to learn again how much love can hurt. “Thank You for coming tonight, I couldn’t imagine celebrating with out you.” He speaks trying again to reach for her hand, and again she pulls away. “Chris.” Nicole speaks stopping in her tracks “Look… You got into your 4th choice school I’m not sure that’s a reason to celebrate.” “Ouch…” he says acknowledging the direct jab at his education. “I’m going off to my top choice school early admit in June. And while this head cheerleader-quarterback dynamic has been straight out of the movies. I think it’s time for the credits to roll, don’t you?” She explains Chris pauses before speaking, the only thing he is thinking is ‘is she breaking up with me, with a movie metaphor?’ but being polite as he had always been to her he nods softly. “I get it, we will be far away from each other…” “No.” she interrupts him “Chris after graduation I’m leaving this place behind. Goodbye Cherryfield forever, and I just don’t need anyone keeping me here.” “Got it.” Chris says as his mind begins to shut down. Nicole sighs deeply. “Well… I guess this is it Powell. Thanks for a good run.” Chris watches Nicole walk away so strongly as if this entire conversation meant nothing to her, as if the entire relationship meant nothing to her. From that moment forward Chris vowed no more girls, no more commitment, and not more love for anything other than his family, his academics and his sports career. Though leaving his family behind in Cherryfield would be hard, he could not wait for the fall to come.

#Chris Powell #choices #choices fan fiction #xoempine

[wisdomssdaughterr]

AHHH!! I’ve read emotion sickness a couple times and I’m excited if it will update! I haven’t read it in a while so I kinda forgot but like I remember the last chapter and how the powers were obtained. Which I cry for Steve in that fic (but we love making Steve go through angst soo). Also yeah friendship is the whole point and I love it. I think it also resonates and makes sense because of how young they are. Now that they’re growing up in the show I feel like friendship is even more important. Also this was a key thing to every single one of the characters in the beginning. How Mike had that whole speech to El, the boys determination to get will, Lucas eventually saying that el is one of them and choosing her, Dustin having this whole insight into friendships, Jonathan always choosing will(while he is his brother he’s also his friend soo) and his friendship with Nancy at the beginning, Nancy’s friendship with Barb and then (although he his her brother) with Mike and trying to patch that up, Joyce trusting hopper because they were friends and had a history, hopper always being on Joyce’s side even though he did insult her sometimes but was always there for her, and Steve with his awful friends and how he was always by their side(until eventually he wasn’t because he’s realized they were assholes) but then choosing Nancy and Jonathan (and letting go of his own innocence to help them). Like it is so central to every single one of them and how they all grow as people. It’s why I always love their dynamic and would love if we have an outside pov insight into them. (I’ve literally created scenarios in like season 3 where an oc is with Steve and Robin that oc says that she was staring at Steve (like Robin) but because she wanted to figure him out. I think that would be so cool where instead of someone envying and wanting to be like him they are just sooo interested in how he/the party/everyone acts.) which actually now that I think about it I want the party/everyone to be sooo jumpy and stuff.

Also yeah billy and Steve are nothing alike. I feel like Everyone just latched onto that billy ‘stealing’ Steve’s title of king and just compared them. Which like you said makes no sense because they are fundamentally different. But also like billy never actually took the ‘king’ title so why is that a point people bring up? And also we never saw Steve actually play dirty at all (with his basketball games and other things) like maybe the only time was when they were in the alleyway but even then Steve didn’t allow anyone to help him when he was getting beat up so. Lol sorry you get to see the word ‘like’ all the time when I type.

oohh yeah I know this goes back what we’ve talked about before but I feel like people have to start noticing things about the party and observing them more and more.

 because I’d imagine they are jumpy and anxious and nervous but also like fed up with everything. like, again like we’ve said, there’s just no way that no one has noticed how weird this specific group of people are. especially in a small town high school, like personally I made a game out of observing people (that sounds really fucking creepy lol but I was just quiet kid with nothing better to do than try to figure my classmates out). so there has to be people around them that take notice, even if it’s not in a bad, spreading rumors type way. an outside perspective would be such a cool idea.

yeah with the whole steve thing, like he kind of fell from the “king steve” title before billy showed up, right? like after he stopped hanging with tommy and carol, and when he learned about the upside down that obviously changed him. so billy really didn’t take that from him in the first place. but yeah him and billy literally didn’t have anything in common, so the comparison doesn’t make any sense. and don’t apologize!!

#answered ask

[freefallingforfanfiction]

Slumber Party Takeover

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: You and the party, plus Steve, Jonathan, and Nancy decide to play a game of Truth or Dare when Steve’s TV decided to kick the bucket on movie night.

Warning: At this point it’s not a warning anymore, my images are just long as hell and tainted with swearing.

Steve Harrington was not your typical “run of the mill” guy. For starters, he was incredibly good looking, and despite that you had never seen him treat any woman like an object or as if he had any right to them because of that. He was rich, but despite that, you had never seen him use money to get the things he wanted, instead he had opted for hard work, in basketball, and a tutor for when he was falling behind in classes. He was popular, but he didn’t buy his friends, he was charming and funny, and you had honestly thought he was an all-around great guy until he got involved with Nancy Wheeler, your best friend, last year. When you saw those red spray painted letters on the show board of the cinema, you had sworn off your crush on him forever, or at least you had tried to. Then, you had thought of him as a gigantic asshat deserving of a good hook right hook to the face. Then, he had redeemed himself, and your image of him had improved, because Steve Harrington was also the bigger person, willing to admit and own up to his wrong doings. You had learned never to put anything past Steve Harrington, because in actuality, he was capable of whatever he put his mind to.

But you had never, ever, in your wildest dreams have thought you would be watching Steve Harrington now, setting up a pillow fort in the center of his living room for six pre-teens. Because while Steve Harrington was many, many, things, you had never once thought you would end up pegging him as motherly.

“Sup, homeslices?” your grined widely as you sauntered into the living room filled to the brim with people. Beside you, your little brother [Lucas/Dustin] groaned loudly and slapped a hand to his forehead.

“Oh my god Y/N, could you not?” [Lucas/Dustin] said as he looked up at the ceiling in embarrassment. Beside him, your playful grin turned into a cat like smile as you peered down at your younger brother, bowing down to his height with your hands on your hips.

“What, am I embarrassing you?” you ask coyly. Unlike Jonathan, you were not what you would call a “doting” sibling. While your love for [Lucas/Dustin] was immense, you preferred to show your love for your younger sibling though playful banter, harmless pranks, and of course, embarrassing him in front of the cute little red head known as Mad Max.

“Yes!” [Lucas/Dustin] groaned loudly, whipping his hand off his face to look at you. Your smile only grew as you watched his reaction. Slowly, you reached your hand out at tapped his nose, causing him to scrunch it up and swat at your hand. You let out a string of playful laughter as you brought yourself back to your fell height and crossed your arms across your chest.

“Praise the gods, cause I thought I hadn’t been my job as of late,” you grinned as you leaned back slightly to watch your brother’s annoyed face. It was scrunched up in slight irritation as his eyes flicked back from you to the party.

“Oh trust me,” [Lucas/Dustin] muttered, “You do it well enough.”

Smiling brightly, you flipped your H/C locks dramatically over your shoulder and turned on your heel, signing out “Thank you,” as you strutted over to where Steve had sat himself down beside Nancy and Jonathan, as he had completed the construction of the pillow fort.

Nancy held an amused look on her face as she watched you saunter you way over to them, it was clear she had been paying attention to your antics with your little brother and was entertained.

“You just love torturing that boy, don’t you?” Nancy asked, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips as she scooted closer to Jonathan in order to make room for you to sit.

“Yes, it’s one of my favorite hobbies,” you beam, causing Nany’s bell like laughter to fill the room. You gave Nancy a swift wink before you turned sharply on your heel and let yourself fall into the couch. Nancy let out a squeal as she anticipated you falling into her lap, however, it was not Nancy’s boney lap you landed in, but rather the soft crevice of the couch she had created for you. Nancy’s forearms, which she had instinctually lifted to protect her face, lowered as her blue eyes flickered around, attempting to deem herself safe.

You chuckled as tossed your arms behind Nancy and Steve’s heads before swinging your cat like smile towards Nancy, “After all our years of friendship, I thought you would have more faith in me, Nance. I’m honestly wounded,” you pouted as you placed your palm on your chest in mock hurt.

Nancy snatched up the throw pillow beside Jonathan and gently smacked you in the face with it. You let out a small squeak at the impact and it was Nancy’s turn to laugh, “Even after all these years, I still never know what to expect from you, Y/N [Sinclair/Henderson].”

“Wow,” you drug the word out much longer than necessary, “Rude, Wheeler!” you playfully said in a loud voice.

“Steve Harrington would never treat me this way,” you huffed as you shook your finger at your best friend, then turned to face Steve, who had an amused grin on his face. “Right, Steve?”

Smiling, Steve looked down into your bright E/C eyes and confirmed, “I would never.”

Steve tossed his arms around you and pulled you to him and you giggled as you landed against him, the warmth of his body seeping into to yours. You stuck your tongue out at Nancy and said, “See? Steve loves me.”

Nancy laughed at you, “I’m sure he does, Y/N.”

“She’s, right,” Steve said from above you, “I do.”

You beam at Nancy, snuggling further into Steve, resisting the strong urge you had to glance up at him. You had had a crush on Steve since you had first laid eyes on him freshman year, and even though he had dated your best friend for an entire year, you hadn’t been able to shake the crush, no matter how hard you had tried. And the way he was holding you against him right now, saying the things he was saying, well, that made it even harder for you to lose hope.

“Okay,” Steve said as he clapped his hands together and leaned on the counter beside you, “We need a new game plan for the night.”

Once a month you and the party, plus Steve, Nancy, and Jonathan all got together at Steve’s place for a slumber party. The slumber parties typically consisted of watching movies the kids parents usually wouldn’t let them watch, eating tons of junk food, and the party trying to teach you, Steve, Max, and El how to play Dungeons and Dragons, while Nancy and Jonathan were just content to watch or slink off somewhere to make out. Or this one time Nancy destroyed Jonathan at Uno and he hid in the fort for like, thirty minutes.

However, tonight Steve’s TV had decided that it hated the lot of you and your slumber party and had called it quits, leaving you all to search for a new source of entertainment.

“Well this is a slumber party,” you mused, “Maybe we can play cheesy slumber party games?”

Nancy pointed a finger at you and grinned, “Yes.” Back when you were younger, slumber parties at the Wheeler residence were fairly common. You and Barb would show up in your cutest pajamas and spend the night staying up much later than you should have while eating even more things you shouldn’t have as you all gossiped.  A fond smile made its way to your lips as you recalled those moments.

“What like 7 minutes in heaven or spin the bottle?” Jonathan asked, uncertainty written all over his face. He had never had any friends that you’d known of growing up, so you weren’t really surprised at his lack of sleep over knowledge.

“That’s a no.” Steve said from beside you, “We have to keep in PG in here.” You narrowed your eyes at the younger kids and mouthed “thanks a lot” to which they all smiled, knowing fully well that you were joking.

“What about Chubby Bunny?” Nancy suggested. Chubby Bunny had been a favorite party game of you, Nancy, and Barb’s. You currently held the title because, as Barb had always liked to say, nothing could stop you from running your big mouth.

“That’s a no for me,” Jonathan quipped quickly.

“I don’t have marshmallows anyway,” Steve was quick to second Jonathan’s notion. You and Nancy simultaneously let out a small whine at the boy’s objection.

“What about light as a feather stiff as a board?” You suggested, wiggling your fingers in a spooky manor.

“El can already lift things with her mind, that would be pointless,” Dustin waved you off swiftly. You pouted.

“How about truth or dare?” Max piped up, looking at the four of you expectantly.

“See that is not what we finna do,” you said as you raised a finger to the air, an expression that could only be described as a war flash back filling your facial features.

“What, why? That’s perfect!” Nancy argued with you.

“Need I remind you what happened last time we played truth or dare?” you said as you raised a solitary brow at her.

“Oh it wasn’t that bad,” Nancy said dismissively.

“Wasn’t that bad?” you asked, flabbergasted.

“No, you only-’’ Nancy had begun, but you had already lunged forward to clamp a hand over her mouth, silencing her. Barb had dared you to walk three houses down and back in only your bra and shorts. Rather than scaling the outside of Nancy’s house, you opted for using Nancy’s stairs to get out, and you had almost been caught by her father, who was up getting a midnight snack. Even though he hadn’t seen you, it had been mortifying.

“Don’t you dare talk about that in front of my baby brother, he is an innocent baby!” you cried shrilly, looking back and forth between a befuddled [Lucas/Dustin] and a startled Nancy.

“Look well just set a couple of ground rules, besides, like Steve said, were keeping it PG.” Nancy bribed, after you and slowly took your hand off her mouth, shooting her a warning look. You were fully prepared to say no and just suggest that you all play board games until the television decided to play nice, but the eager faces of Max, El, Mike, Dustin, Lucas, and Will were what made you sigh in defeat.

“Fine,” you snapped, “but I am not picking dare,” you said sternly as you narrowed your eyes at the group and jabbed a finger at your best friend, who was smiling triumphantly before you.

You were all sat down in a circle inside the pillow fort, a hat in the middle of you filled with ten slips of paper. In order to avoid bickering over whose turn it was, Jonathan had cut up small slips of paper and numbered them. You would each draw a number and that would determine the order in which who got to ask whoever they wanted truth or dare.

Jonathan passed that hat around and you each stuck your hand in to receive a number, you had gotten 3, and your eyes flickered around the room, wondering who you would target tonight.

“Who’s number one?” Jonathan asked.

“Me!” Max chirped happily, showing the number off.

“Alright then,” Steve said, “Let’s start.”

Max’s gaze was similar to yours as she looked around the circle of faces, contemplating who she would chose as her first victim.

“Mike,” she said slowly, mulling over her question internally, “Truth or dare?”

Mike did not hesitate to choose truth, and you couldn’t blame him. You wouldn’t want to be dared by Mad Max either. You can’t back down from that shit, man.

“Who do you think is the worst dressed person in this room?” You could almost hear Mike’s internal scream.

Mike hesitated for a long time, weighing his options and looking everyone in the room up and down. Finally, he sighed in defeat and locked eyes with you, “Sorry, Y/N.” Mike cringed apologetically.

You scoffed, “Wow, insulted by two Wheeler’s in one night. Must be a record.” You weren’t mad at Mike though, you knew the grunge style you rocked was not for everyone, however, El smiled at you from across the circle and piped up.

“I think she looks bitchin’.”

“Yes,” you cried, “That’s my girl!” you reached over and held out your fist, which El bumped with a large grin.

Steve laughed beside you and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “She’s defiantly right about that. Whose number two?” Your heart sputtered at the action, Steve had never been so affectionate with you before, had he?

“I am,” Dustin pipped.

Dustin looked around the room before his eyes settled on you, “Y/N, you had to choose between going naked or having your thoughts appear in thought bubbles above your head for everyone to read, which would you choose?”

You were pleasantly surprised by the amount of thought that went into that question, however, you were not overly fond of the small, knowing smile that had spread its way onto Nancy’s face, partly covered by her fist.

“Thought bubble, definitely.” You answered. It hadn’t required to much thinking to a person as spastic as yourself, “It such a jumbled, rambling mess up here,” you tapped your index finger against your temple a few times, “no one would even be able to decipher what I was thinking anyway.” You shrugged your shoulders as you finished your explanation then showed the number in your hand before you looked at Lucas, “Lucas, truth or Dare?”

“Truth!” Like Max, you were not one to be trifled with.

“Have you ever practiced kissing in a mirror?” Lucas’s eyes were as wide as saucers as he stared at you, his mouth hanging open.

It took him a moment to pick his jaw from up off the ground before he responded, “What, no!” You quirked a brow at him.

“That’s not what Erica told me.” You sang as you leaned back, using both of your hands to hold yourself up.

“It was one time!” Lucas sputtered in defense. Giggles erupted all throughout the group, causing Lucas’s cheeks to flush red. Laughing gently, you patted his shoulder a few times, “I’m sure most of have been there too,” you reassured.

Lucas looked at you warily, but nodded his head upon seeing Nancy nod her head in agreement. You like to embarrass the kids a little, but you didn’t like leaving after effects.

Up next was Will, who dared Jonathan to dance with no music for 1 minute. Jonathan looked utterly betrayed at his younger brother’s horrifying dare as he stood up and moved awkwardly in place, causing most of you to cringe.

“I didn’t know Will was a savage,” you whispered in Steve’s ear. Steve had a grimace on his face as he watched Jonathan and responded, “Me either.”

Nancy was next, and she dared Dustin to serenade Steve. You were pleasantly surprised by Dustin’s singing voice as he sang Every Breath You Take dramatically to Steve, who was trying to stare blankly ahead and ignore Dustin. However, he failed as he burst into a fit of laughter with Dustin following soon after.

Jonathan was up next, his mortified expression dulled slightly as his eyes landed on Steve. “Truth or dare Steve?”

“Truth,” Steve answered.

You could see Jonathan mulling a few things over in his head before he settled on something he deemed interesting. “Steve,” Jonathan mumbled, “Tell us about a time you embarrassed yourself in front of a crush.”

“Steve doesn’t do anything embarrassing, Jonathan,” Dustin scoffs, looking at Jonathan as if he were an idiot.

From beside Jonathan, Nancy snorted and Steve narrowed his eyes at her playfully.

“Let’s see,” Steve said as he shifted around in his spot beside you nervously. “That would be Tina’s Christmas party sophomore year,” Steve said slowly. You could practically see the gears in his head turning as he thought back to that moment.

“Oh, wasn’t that the first party after you were crowned Keg King?” you asked, a playful smile on your lips.

“It was,” Steve mused.

“But it was also the first time I’d ever seen her,” Steve had a nostalgic look in his deep brown eyes as he spoke, and you felt yourself grow envious at this unknown girl. Was every girl in Hawkins incredible to Steve but you?  You folded your arms over your chest grumpily as you stared ahead at the white sheets of the pillow fort.

“She was a freshman at the time, a year below me. You’d have never been able to tell though, not with the way she carried herself. She was abundantly confident, that was very clear. From the way she would walk, carry herself, you could just tell she didn’t give a damn about what anyone else had to say about her. She wasn’t afraid to talk to anyone in the room, not even the seniors, and the way she came dressed to the Christmas party,” Steve paused to grin and shake his head, “You could just tell she never let herself be bossed around into being anyone she wasn’t. She didn’t care, and somehow that made her extraordinarily likeable.”

“Anyway,” Steve continued, “I was so caught up in watching her, I slammed straight into Tina who had just come from the kitchen with a platter of food, it was a disaster, the tray came up and slapped me in the face, there was food all over the floor and me, and she just stood there, giggling behind her hand.” Steve shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips at the memory.

“Did you ever talk to her?” Nancy asked, curiously.

“Not until last year,” Steve said, and you felt yourself flat line. Because you had indeed been at that Christmas party that year, wearing a red and green paid skirt over ripped fishnet stockings and green boots paired with and oversized red sweater instead of the typical sweater and jeans, and you had seen Steve’s run in with the food tray.

Steve Harrington had been talking about you.

“How come you never told me?” you asked, leaning up against the outside of the house. Your E/C gaze swept over Steve, sitting outside by the pool on the lounge chair. He had his shoulders slumped as he looked down at the ground, his hands between his knees. He only looked up when you spoke, slowly turning his head to look up at you.

“Was too nervous after that,” Steve replied.

You gave him a disbelieving look and responded, “No offence, but that sounds like a load of crap.”

Steve shrugged, “Believe what you want.”

You narrowed your gaze at him, “I don’t want to ‘believe what I want’,” you said as you shoved yourself off the side of the house and made your way over to Steve, sitting down beside him, “I want to know why I’ve spent all of high school pinning over you when you liked me too.”

Steve’s head snapped up, shock written all over his face.

“You liked me?” he asked, “I didn’t even think you knew I existed until Nancy.”

“Everyone knew you existed,” you scoffed, “You were King Steve,” you chuckled, “But that wasn’t what I asked.”

Steve was quiet for a minute, and you were starting to believe that he was not going to answer you when he finally opened his mouth, “I was afraid you would reject me. You, you didn’t give a damn about what anyone had to say about you, not your clothes, or your attitude. Me? I cared a lot, I felt like I had to be accepted with everyone to be happy, and I didn’t think someone as carefree as yourself would ever go for a people pleaser like that. So I settled for the next best thing,” Steve admitted.

“Nancy?” you asked in awe.

“Yes, Nancy.” Steve sighed out, “And I’m not proud of it. You two were best friends, so that meant I got to see a whole lot more of you, and being best friends, you and Nancy are similar in a lot of ways. But at the time, Nancy was also concerned about what people might think. She was less risky than you,” he looked up at you a smiled, “the wild, whirlwind of a girl.”

“Did you ever love Nancy?” you asked Steve.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, “I thought I did, but looking back at it now, our relationship was forced on both parts. After the incident with Will a year ago, I wanted to pretend like everything was normal, like I was normal. And Nancy, I’m not sure sure what he was looking for, but looking back at it now, we weren’t the best couple. We didn’t really have a lot in common, it was just and in the moment kind of thing, especially for her.”

You were quite for a moment, absorbing all the information you had just received like a sponge. Steve Harrington had actually liked you. Since your freshman year! Your heart was going a mile a minute as you looked up at him, looking down at you. Here was your chance, after all these years.

“Do you still like me?” you asked, not a hint of the slight fear you were feeling evident in your voice.

Steve didn’t miss a beat this time as he replied, “Yes,” looking down into your E/C eyes. An ecstatic grin made its way across your face at the new found news.

“Fucking fantastic,” you say as you place your hands on either side of his cheeks and pull him down to you, placing a sweet kiss to his lips before you pull back and he look him in the eye, smiling brightly. Steve grins happily down at you before he mutters, “Get back over here, you,” and pulls you into his lap to press another kiss to your lips, this time more passionate. Your hands find their way into his hair, where you lace your fingers though the luxurious locks tugging on them gently, causing Steve to let out a small groan. His larger hands were on your hips, his thumbs rubbing circles on the skin before he used them to grab hold of your belt loops and pull you right up against him. He had just placed his hands on your butt, licking your bottom lip for entrance when you heard the back door open.

“Hey!” [Lucas/Dustin] calls from the house, breaking the moment, “I thought we were keeping things PG tonight?” You and Steve pull apart slowly, completely unashamed as you looked up at your smug brother in the doorway, his arms folded over his chest.

“That little bastard,” you say in disbelief as you watch [Lucas/Dustin] retreat into the house.

Steve laughed as he ran a hand through you H/L, H/C locks and pulled you to him so that he could place a kiss to your forehead. “I think he just got some pay back.”

“That opportunistic little bastard,” you corrected, smiling up at Steve as you pecked his nose.

Steve shook his head and grinned, standing up from the lounger, he offered you his hand, “Let’s go meet the others, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smile as you set your hand in his, letting him pull you up gently towards his chest, where he rested his forehead on your own as he looked into your eyes.

Despite all of the eyes peering at you and Steve through the glass door, you couldn’t be anywhere but on cloud nine as you walked hand in hand with the man who you had pinned over for three long years. Any you couldn’t wait to see what the next few years to come had to offer for the both of you.  

@lola-winston-harrington

#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #reader insert #stranger things #stranger things 2 #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #will byers #jonathan byers #nancy wheeler #eleven #jane hopper #stranger things imagine

[dingoat]

The Right Way: Part Eight

[ previous | the beginning | next ]

In the timeline where Crow turned right, he found himself alone. And much as he wasn’t keen on admitting it, he didn’t enjoy the feeling. Losing his father hadn’t in and of itself been a great shock; he’d been raised to understand that life could be fleeting, snuffed out in the blink of an eye, and their line of work was dangerous, their lifestyle without a close support network.

All the same, Mar’an Crow found himself with an unexpected void in his life, and as he aimlessly roamed the galaxy there was always an unconscious part of him that sought out something to belong to.

For a small while, the twin timelines seemed to merge, not differing from one another as they came to focus on a past Ulfran recognised well, as it was his own.

There he was. Those easygoing, unburdened, hopeful days when he still lived and studied at the temple on Tython. Those stolen, not-so-secret moments with Lyrisal that he looked forward to so eagerly. Their joint determination to save the galaxy. Their budding, blooming friendship.

The friendship that he threw aside, when the Jedi Order presented him with the opportunity to vanish into deep cover, to locate, extract and neturalise artifacts that would otherwise remain forever out of their reach. Painfully, Ulfran watched himself put on the act that would eventually convince friend and foe alike that he had defected. He watched Lyrisal respond first with sympathy, then growing frustration, anger, and eventually that cool stoicism as she came to accept the friend she had known was lost to her.

For a while, he’d kept tabs on Lyrisal and her career, as best as he could discreetly manage. He was always so proud, watching her skill and responsibilities grow. He wanted desperately for her to know where he was, what he was doing, that they were still on the same side. But he couldn’t. It hurt him as much to watch now as it had been to live it.

What he hadn’t ever been privy to was getting to know the new recruit who would eventually become not just Lyrisal’s right hand man, but her closest friend.

There they were, rows of proud and eager new soldiers from vast and varied backgrounds, with Lyrisal striding down the middle in her crisp officer’s uniform. Clean cut, stern-faced individuals, ready to lay down their lives in service of the Republic…

All but one. One whose expression most definitely did not match the others. Fresh-faced and fluffy haired, Mar’an Crow stood amongst the ranks of recruits, gaze fixed forward, but grinning from ear to ear. Lyrisal halted her inspection, turning her head to stare at him. He continued to stare past her, grinning madly. She slowly narrowed her eyes, head lilting ever slightly to one side. He kept grinning. Eventually, Lyrisal merely pursed her lips, turned her head back forward, and continued down the line.

Crow never did behave himself well enough to earn a higher rank than Private, but he didn’t care. Nor did Lyrisal, who came to trust him above anyone else in her Company.

--------

In the timeline where Crow turned left, he fought shoulder to shoulder with his brothers and sisters, along whatever battle lines their Alor directed. Ahuska’a had his back at every moment.

Lyrisal still became Captain, leading her own Company. Her second was a tall, lean fellow, lightly freckled, his strawberry blonde hair trimmed daily to keep it at perfect regulation length. He was loyal, sharp witted, and believed in the Republic with all his heart. Lyrisal’s relationship with Lieutenant Falkes was a thoroughly professional one, but she was deeply fond of the man, and his conviction to their cause bolstered her own.

Duty took them to Corellia for a time, to assist with the mop-up of yet another rakghoul plague outbreak.

“I hate they way they talk about them…” Lyrisal lifted an eyebrow in the direction of some of the THORN officers corralling locals into the quarantine sectors. They had paused for a break; the legally sanctioned half-hour pause between sweeps of the streets in a bid to ward off fatigue.  

“Captain?”

The THORN workers were as tired as the Republic soldiers who were assisting in the aftermath of the breakout, but more jaded by far, having seen the worst and them some dozens of times over. “It’s like they’ve forgotten that they’re all victims here. Even the monsters… especially the monsters. They used to be people! How anyone could be so callous…”

Lyrisal and Falkes watched as three children were quite literally dragged along the street, their knees skimming the duracrete pavement, each of them terrified and puffy-eyed, the youngest of them screaming shrilly. The officers who hauled them along, clad in full THORN regulation biohazard gear and no doubt as terrifying to the kids as the rakghouls themselves, virtually threw them behind the barbed wire and into the ‘control zone’. Lyrisal couldn’t be certain, at the distance she was, but she was fairly sure one of them was sobbing for their mother.

“Who knows what those kids have just seen. They’ve likely just been orphaned. You’d think they could be treated with a little kindness… but no, just another set of bodies to be processed…”

“Look, sir…” Falkes gestured toward a lone figure striding down the street, hot on the THORN workers’ heels. A Chiss, of all species. Not particularly tall, mildly toned, her skin one of the deeper, more vibrant shades of blue that her species was capable of boasting. Her hair was long, cascading freely right down her back, a striking shade of golden-blonde. Though her eyes were hidden behind a broad pair of red-tinted sunglasses, what could be seen of her expression was fierce.

Lyrisal and Falkes watched, as she stormed up to the officers and physically grabbed a hold of one to turn them to face her.

“Oof, she’d better be careful, there…”

“Mmm,” Lyrisal agreed, a little distracted sounding. She started to move toward them, sensing that things might be about to take something of an aggressive turn.

As they approached, the clearer the Chiss woman’s words became. She wasn’t shouting, exactly, but was making no effort to keep her tone low, either.

“They have an aunt in another city, I’m telling you… look!” She was shoving her datapad right into their helmeted faces.

“And we’ve already tried to tell you, regulation states that-“

“To HELL with your regulations! They’re children! They’ve just watched their parents-“

“EVERYONE here’s got a sob story, ma’am. And nobody gets an exception. Nothing, not a child, not a rock star, not a rat or a flea leaves the quarantine zone until the thirty day clearance period is up…”

“You literally just put them in there.”

“I’m just here to make sure procedures are followed, ma’am. We appreciate the comfort you give to survivors, but biohazard control falls a little outside your jurisdiction. Why don’t you take your blankets and band-aids to an area that’s actually allow—hey. HEY!”

Frustrated and at the end of her tether, the Chiss woman had simply pushed past the THORN officers and looked ready to walk in and take the children herself. “Just close your eyes or something, nobody will be the wiser…” she hissed, tugging her shoulders away as they made cautious grabs toward her.

“Ma’am, please understand. Under paragraph 37B of the Republic Quarantine Act of-“

“No, YOU try to understand. If you’d taken a minute to ask around, we could have arranged for their processing period to happen with family. In accordance with paragraph 40.1.2, I might add!”

“And we’ve still got monsters in the streets! You think we’ve got time to sit down and have a chat with every civilian we come across? Getting the streets empty is our priority…”

“At the cost of their well-being?! You know exactly what special type of hell you’ve sentenced them to…” again she tried to shove past, only to have one of the workers step in front of her and push her roughly backwards.

“Ma’am. We’re going to have to ask you to leave…”

“I’m not going anywhere without those kids…”

One of them was already muttering into their comm, his call becoming decidedly more urgent as the Chiss woman planted a surprisingly deft kick in the other one’s midsection. “Protocols be damned!” she seethed, again starting for the electrically charged gates that walled off the quarantine zone.

“Aught we do something, Captain?” That was Falkes, looking to Lyrisal with several lines running across his brow.

“Yes, I suppose we should.”

Lyrisal’s expression was a little odd, as she watched the Chiss begin to actually brawl with the THORN officers, putting up an unexpected amount of fight. Perhaps it was the woman’s timing, moving in and questioning the workers just as Lyrisal had been expressing her own doubts about their methods; but she found herself oddly reluctant to step in.

As it turned out, her hesitance was just enough that another couple of soldiers moved in to assist before she and Falkes did. Soldiers of her own Company, even, doing their job smartly and efficiently. Their well-honed skills saw the Chiss woman held securely but painlessly, one arm tight behind her back, in the blink of an eye. Within minutes, CorSec had arrived and placed the woman formally under arrest.

Lyrisal didn’t take her eyes off the woman for a moment, and her eyes lingered out in the city streets long after the security vehicle she’d been bundled into had driven well out of sight.

And she was quite certain that that Chiss had been the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen in her life.

#swtor #swtor writing #the right way #swtor fic #lyrisal #nines #ulfran #crow #rakghoul plague #republic soldiers #republic #the old republic #star wars aliens

[zecretsanta]

expanse

To: @specialagentartemis​

From: @dornishsphinx​

Merry Christmas, @specialagentartemis! This got a little out-of-control word count wise, but I hope you enjoy!

expanse

Not even having the energy to close his eyes all the way, Junpei let his head loll back against the headrest. His awareness of the landscape outside the car faded away, desert sun and sand mixing themselves up together into a yellow blur. There was nothing keeping him alert anymore, or at least nothing pressing enough to ward off the tiredness. Even the initial spark of mortal terror brought on by Clover’s driving had faded away after the first few accident-free hours.

He almost didn’t notice it when the scenery started changing, the car drifting to a halt, or Clover contorting herself around to shout at the backseat.

“C’mon! Shopping time!” she said, waving her hand in his face.

Unwillingly, Junpei found himself blinking into focus. Beside Clover, sitting in the shotgun position, Lotus – she’d still not mentioned her real name and honestly, at this point it would have felt weird to outright ask – was digging through the front compartment, counting out a stack of dollar bills that had been stuffed in there along with maps, water and non-perishables.

“Don’t forget about getting us actual food, okay?” she said, with the commanding tone of voice that, now that Junpei thought about it, ought to have marked her as a mother from the start, “And don’t go overboard, got it? We don’t want to run out. And be careful–”

“Okay, okay,” said Clover, “Let’s go, you two.”

“I think it would be best if I stayed with the car,” said Light, sitting on Junpei’s right.

 “Ugh, you’re just too lazy to go shopping, aren’t you?” said Clover.

“Oh? Insults now?” said Light, not denying it.

“Whatever, spoilsport. Junpei, you’re coming with me!”

“What?” said Junpei, startled at the conversation turning to him, “Why does he get to make an excuse?”

“You want to go exploring, right? Because you’re cool, unlike my lame-ass brother over there. Right?”

Really, it shouldn’t have worked. Junpei consoled himself with the knowledge that he’d wanted to go all along as he dragged himself out of the car alongside Clover and made their way into town.

“So,” he said, exercise starting to wake him up a little, “This is America, huh?”

He supposed it was scenic, in a bleak way, nothing but desert and sky for miles past a few square buildings dotted around on what was barely a town square. It was hardly what you imagined from the movies, though.

“Well, the complex had to be off the grid,” mused Clover in response as she ducked into one of the less dilapidated buildings, “But you know, apparently Las Vegas is in this state. We should totally go.”

Junpei imagined it as he followed her in.

“That… does sound like fun,” he admitted, “Though I don’t think we have the money.”

She barked out a laugh. “Pff. Yeah. You think they’d have left us more as recompense, considering what they put us through.”

The past day flashed through his mind. He took in a shaky breath. Akane was alive because of it. At least there was that. It it would have been nice to confirm it with his own eyes, though, be able to talk to her — be able to get some answers. It seemed that some things were impossible, though.

“Junpei!” cried Clover.

Junpei whipped around, ready to face any threat – now that he thought about it, it was unlikely he’d not be on edge for at least the next few months – before quickly taking a step back to avoid the small, dark object Clover had decided to swing at his face.

“Whoa! What the—hey!”

He snatched it out her hand before bringing up whatever it was to his eye level. It turned out to be a keyring with a spiky cactus attached; it had the sort of demented grinning face that you’d be forgiven for expecting to only appear on Hallowe’en memorabilia.

“Get this, there’s a whole line of them,” said Clover, stepping to the side and revealing the shelf behind her with a flourish, “Sad cactus, angry cactus – uh, constipated cactus? And – jeez, I don’t even know what this one’s supposed to be. Existential dread cactus maybe? Betrayal cactus?”

He stared at the rack of tack before him, glorious and green.

“I need ten of everything.”

“Not nine?” said Clover.

At the look he sent over at her, she shrugged. “I hear laughing at trauma helps with the healing process?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to wait more than—” He checked his burner phone and counted in his head, before groaning.

“…Nine hours?”

“Shut up.”

Clover grinned, all her teeth showing. “Oh, man, you just make it too easy.” She dragged out the last consonant, like the thin whine of a siren. She gasped before Junpei could come up with a suitably witty repartee. “Is that—it is! Junpei, check out the angel one! Aw, it even has a little harp—I so need to get it for Light!”

“Huh? Why?”

“Oh! Uh. Never mind, I mean—”

But then she looked at Junpei, a flash of resolution in her eyes. “Ah, screw it. Light’s a harpist, a really good one – you should come to one of his shows sometime!”

For a moment, Junpei felt warm inside. He reflected on how much this odd little friendship of theirs had blossomed since they’d met, disoriented and scared, on the deck of that fake ship. Maybe it wasn’t much; something that, under normal circumstances, would really be nothing at all. Yet after all this, the fact she was talking like she was expecting their relationship to continue on, no longer a necessity and now a choice—

Well. It was nice.

“So, hey, uh, can I ask you something?” he asked as he moved his way towards the neighbouring novelty clothing rack.

“Yeah?”

“I mean, I didn’t say anything before, since I just thought you were still keeping it under wraps, but—”

“Argh, just spit it out already,” she said, in a tone of cheerful exasperation.

“So, you really just used your real name as a code name?”

It wasn’t really worth getting petty over, but goddamn, Junpei had actually come up with a really good one before being denied its use.

“Hey, everyone else was coming up with all these super clever number-based codenames. You know how stressful it was, trying to think of something that didn’t sound dumb beside them?”

“I don’t think it would have been that hard to come up with something less dumb than ‘Santa’, honestly.”

Clover considered this. “I suppose it does seem a little contrived now that I think about it. And jeez, he had more time than anyone to come up with it as well! What a dick.”

“Wow. Take that, guy who isn’t here.”

“Hey, maybe we should make a voodoo doll of him out of one of these cacti and hurt its feelings. Like this one!” She grabbed an ornament of a woodcutter in the process of cleaving a cactus into pieces, crosses painted over its black eyes. “Looks painful enough.”

Junpei grinned, but it drooped a little as memories floated into his head, memories of that other doll and that hilltop far across the world from here and young Akane Kurashiki’s smile.

“Junpei!” said Clover. “Hey, space cadet. Earth to—”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Junpei, “Shouldn’t it be soft, though, for all the needles?”

“Emotional barbs can affect – uh, whatever this is made of – just as much as some felt doll. And it has more than enough needles stuck in it already, doncha think?”

Junpei laughed: no matter the situation, he was duty-bound to find puns hilarious.

“So, hey, can I ask something else?”

Clover groaned, but since the smile never left her face, Junpei thought he was good.

“Ugh, what is it now?”

“How come Light,” he said, plunging his hands into a black hole of t-shirts, “Didn’t come with us? I’d have thought he’d not want to leave you alone after—everything.”

Clover’s face turned serious. “Oh, that. Light’s making sure that he doesn’t escape.”

It was obvious who she was referring to.

“Ah, yeah. That’s a good idea.”

“Yeah,” said Clover, quietly. “Though that’s not the only thing. He’s also keeping an eye on that mummy woman.”

“I know we’ve all bonded or whatever, but you might want to ask Lotus before deciding—”

“Argh, you know who I mean. Alice-All-Ice.”

“Oh, did he tell you through—” He extricated one of his hands to make a vague motion in lieu of delving into the psycho-babble his brain was still holding off on acknowledging as real.

“Mm,” said Clover, noncommittally. “There’s something off about her. Like she’s acting nice and unassuming, but I feel like she’s planning something.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno. Something.”

Junpei supposed she’d probably know better than him. This was only his first foray into the world of kidnapping, morphic resonances and pseudo death games, after all – though now that he thought about it, maybe it wasn’t the most encouraging sign that Clover and Light had got caught up in it twice now.

Eh, whatever. He put it out of mind and, after that, the shopping trip passed by quickly. It was strange: he’d only met Clover a day ago, yet she was so easy to be around, laughing and joking and making disparaging comments about overpriced merchandise together. They eventually ended up picking up twelve of the keyring cacti – in all honesty, there were only eight that they’d particularly wanted out of the lot of them, but the feeling of vindictive satisfaction that came in avoiding the number nine while still managing to fully take advantage of the 3-for-2 deal was worth the extra five dollars.

“Hey!” said Clover, when they finally arrived back at the car, punting the angelic cactus through the open window into Light’s surprisingly dextrous hands, “Look what we found!”

Light felt the object with a frown. “Well, it certainly feels like a felt toy,” he said, “But other than that—” He broke off as he got to the little harp and stroked around to feel the wings. “Is this an angel?”

“More like a prince,” said Junpei, fully aware that nobody would understand the joke and not really caring at this point.

“It’s a cactus angel,” cackled Clover.

“With halo and all!” Junpei chimed in.

They grinned in unison before bursting into laughter.

Light’s mouth quirked into a smile. “I take it you picked this out for me, then?”

“Yep!” said Clover. “And that’s not all!” She extended her arm out, revealing a bag crammed full of so many bits and bobs that the shop’s owner had near cried tears of joy while they paid – apparently, tourists didn’t come out to Nowheresville, Nevada very often. “C’mon, c’mon! Take your pick!”

As Light delicately explored the contents of the bag, somehow still managing to look refined while elbow-deep in cactus memorabilia, Junpei pulled out the next gift from another, smaller bag.

“Hey, Lotus!”

In the front, Lotus looked up from the map in surprise.

“You got something for me too?”

Suddenly, a wave of embarrassment hit Junpei for some reason.

“Well, I mean. Yeah. We got you a shawl,” he said, handing it over. “I mean, I know my arms got super sunburnt when I went to Tottori one time, and uh. Well, you’re, uh. You’re wearing less than I was at the time, so—” 

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you,” she said, thankfully interrupting him. Lotus let it tumble out of her arms, her smile turning to bewilderment and then to outright suspicion as everyone took in the green monstrosity of a pattern.

“This isn’t some round-about way of calling me prickly, is it?”

“Nah,” said Seven before Junpei could save himself with a quick denial, “He’s told you to your face more than a dozen times already, I don’t think he needs to.”

Seven yelped as Lotus took her revenge in the form of a pinch. It looked far more half-hearted than the other attacks she’d launched during the game, but Clover still interjected before the situation could escalate: “That’s not all though!”

“Really? This is more than enough for little old me, you know—”

But Clover had already launched Lotus’ cactus into her lap. Lotus peered down at it, uncertain. She picked it up, pinched between two long fingernails. “What—” she managed to get out, before pausing. The rest of the passengers took in the furious little techie cactus sewn onto a plush replica desk chair, needle-fingers extended onto a little plastic keyboard and monitor.

It was a strange choice, Junpei knew, but somehow it had called to him more than the others when considering getting a joke present for Lotus. His fingers had hovered over it, wavering in confusion, something telling him that this would be perfect despite having absolutely no evidence that was the case. Clover had come up behind him, regarding the situation for a long moment, before picking it up for him. “It just works that way, sometimes,” she’d said, quietly, and then Junpei had realised why, that a switch in his brain had been permanently flipped, and did that mean his life would never be the same again—

Lotus cleared her throat, then, and Junpei snapped to the present. “Thank you,” she said, still clearly a little freaked out. “But, hey, isn’t Seven looking rather plain over there on his lonesome?”

“Wha—” said Seven.

Junpei immediately jumped on the hook: “Oh, but we can’t leave you out! You’ve done just as much for us, you know!”

“All part of the job, you know,” said Seven, just as fast, though it was too late for him. He and Clover moved in tandem, almost like the two of them were actually the ones with the morphogenetic link, one pink-nailed hand swiping Seven’s hat off his head while the other slapped on a bright green baseball cap in its place with all the precision and speed of a slam-dunk.

“Ah,” said Light, tilting his head towards the scene, “I must say it suits you.” His small smile widened as Clover giggled.

“What the—” Seven said loudly, patting his new headpiece, before angling himself towards the rear-view mirror. He paused, a considering look on his face. “Actually, this does look pretty good.”

“Oh, really? I’m glad to hear it,” said Light, airily.

“Now then—hand over the rest of the goods!”

“Oh, but of course, officer,” said Light, still with an amused tilt to his head. Seven turned out to be far less graceful than he had been, rooting around the goodie bag like a golden retriever digging up a bone. As he did so, Lotus made a few derisive comments, though she did lean over to pick things out things he’d unearthed from time to time.

“Hey, Alice,” said Clover. Alice, who had been taking in the scene with bemusement, looked startled at being addressed. She pointed at herself with a raised eyebrow.

Clover nodded, flicking her head towards the bag. Alice looked at her with confusion before her expression shifted to something like—maybe being touched?

“Thank you,” she said, haltingly, waiting her turn before hesitantly peering into the bag. Junpei and Clover both watched her carefully as she picked up a novelty bracelet, little cacti in a circle pressing their branches together in a facsimile of clasped hands, with a smile. She didn’t seem to notice the mummy cactus they’d put in there, though with the mountain of goods Seven had laid to the side, she should have.

Was it possible that she wasn’t…?

Junpei glanced over at Clover, who gave him a minute shrug. It was clearly meant to be carefree, but she was still biting her lip. He placed a hand on her shoulder, unthinkingly; she jumped a little, then huffed at him, but nonetheless patted his hand with her own before leaping back into the verbal fray.

“Hey, Seven!” she said, in mock-shock, “Are you really taking all of those? You know you’re supposed to share, right?”

Junpei snickered as Seven protested that he was the most generous person he knew, and, in what he hoped were still the private recesses of his mind, he found himself hoping this wasn’t just a brief moment of two people traumatised by a death game coping together, but something that could last for years. Maybe even the buds of genuine friendship. He didn’t bring it up, obviously, not wanting to sound like a sap, but still – he couldn’t help but hope she felt the same.

As the group devolved into friendly bickering, Lotus, now beshawled, started up the engine, the car slowly making its way back onto the desert highway. Alice surveyed the rest of the group, playing with the bracelet uncertainly, uncomfortably aware of the man they didn’t think she knew was tied up in the back of the car and now even more unsure of what sort of people she was riding with, while somewhere else in the desert, at some other time, a girl sat in the seat of her own getaway car, eating strips of jerky as it drove in the opposite direction.

“Are you alright?” Aoi asked her, still on tenterhooks, unable to quite believe she was properly, physically there, unable to quite believe everything had worked out. Well, there had to be at least one timeline where it had, Akane mused to herself, since that was the entire point of the exercise.

Despite his worry, Aoi’s hands remained steady on the top of the wheel. She could sense the worry beneath his deliberately calm veneer; it was like he was a kid trying to get close to a wild animal, trying to follow the common adages to be still and collected, no matter what, otherwise it would run away, vanish into the woods—

Become a mass of ashes, floating through other times, other timelines—

Hm. Maybe it was only fair to let him act that way. It had been mere chance that he was the Aoi Kurashiki who existed within the successful timeline, after all. There were a multitude of other Aoi Kurashikis: grieving Aoi Kurashikis; Aoi Kurashikis watching their plan of nine years fall through; dead Aoi Kurashikis.

She’d never liked looking at those ones. Not at all.

“Akane,” said Aoi, softly, no doubt presuming she was reflecting on her own trauma rather than his, “You should get some rest.”

“You know there’s work still to do,” said Akane, “We’ll need to be ready.”

“Exactly,” he said, in that parental tone of voice he never should have needed to learn so young, “You should get rest now, while you can.”

“Aren’t you tired, too?” she asked. Aoi made a grumbling noise; she interrupted him before he could make an excuse. “Do you know what percentage of traffic accidents are caused by tired drivers?”

Aoi groaned. “Can we stop with the numbers. Just—just for a little while?”

“So you are tired,” said Akane, triumphantly.

Aoi clamped his mouth shut.

“I guess,” he said, after a little while. “There’s been a lot to do. A lot at stake. There still is.”

“Some of it’s done, at least,” she said, realising at that moment he needed to hear it. “I’m really here now. You don’t have to go it alone.”

Aoi’s smile turned beatific. The sun pouring in through the car windows illuminated his exhausted, kindly face as it turned towards her, as though he were a stained-glass depiction of one of the early martyrs come to life.

“You’re here,” he said, soft in the real way now.

“I am indeed. So how about we fuck up some bad guys now, hmmm?”

A scandalised look replaced the affectionate smile. “Wh—”

“Oh my, you’re not going to tell me not to swear now? Not when you’ve been doing nothing but for the past nine hours.”

“First of all, it’s already been nine hours since I stopped,” said Aoi, “And I was being in character.”

Akane scoffed. “Oh, like you don’t swear all the time when you’re not around me,” she said. Before he could protest, she proffered the pack of jerky he’d insisted she eat to keep up her strength until they got to shelter. “Want some?”

Aoi glared at her, but then sighed and relented. “Let’s fuck up some bad guys,” he grumbled, “But first, get some sleep.”

Compromise won, Akane leant back in her seat, glancing over at the clock where it was placed in between them.

Their getaway car would approach the Nevada border at the exact same time as the other one did, though on the exact opposite side; she’d seen it, while scouting out this particular route to the future. She’d not planned it that way, which she liked. It felt almost like the universe synchronising itself to her goals, like it wanted them to succeed.

The last digit flipped over from 26 to 27. She counted each second as it passed, eighteen of them. The two cars passed over the border. She traced it in her mind, that imaginary line, thinking of it connecting Aoi and her to the rest of them, and to Junpei Tenmyouji most of all. A moment—then it had passed.

It was only then that she allowed herself to lean back and close her eyes. There would be no nightmares of the past, she decided, only dreams of the bright future she and Aoi would build, both for the world and for all those they’d used and sacrificed.   

“Aoi,” she said, meaning to tell him to wake her up when he got too tired so she could drive, but like a wave, all those nine years coalesced around her, sleep coming with them.

FIN

——-

I hope you enjoyed it! I ended up combining two of your prompts, though the first one became a bit more “developing best-friendship” rather than actual best-friendship wrt Junpei and Clover and the second one with Aoi and Akane ended up being slightly less cool-masterminds and a bit more sleep-deprived-masterminds than you asked for, haha.

Again, Merry Christmas when it comes! 

#zero escape #9 Hours 9 Persons 9 Doors #specialagentartemis #dorsnishsphinx #zecret santa 2017 #submission

[nancyswhlr]

friends (jonathan x nancy)

summary: She waited (a month)....It’d been two weeks. Two weeks since they’d found Will, two weeks since they fought a monster from the Upside Down, two weeks since they lost Eleven. Two weeks since Jonathan had almost said something to her on his couch. Two weeks and she’d barely even talked to him since then, it was like he disappeared. It only made her more determined to stay patient.

an: maybe part 1 of 2?? unsure yet but this takes place in 1983!

ao3 link

Nancy flopped on her bed, meticulously inspecting her homework she was currently in the middle of doing. Text books sprawled in front of her as she stuck her sheets of paper in a random notebook, getting up again fully prepared to start reading again when her own hand caught her attention. More specifically, her cut.

It’d been two weeks. Two weeks since they’d found Will, two weeks since they fought a monster from the Upside Down, two weeks since they lost Eleven. Two weeks since Jonathan had almost said something to her on his couch. Two weeks and she’d barely even talked to him since then, it was like he...disappeared. It only made her more determined to stay patient. Unlike her, he got Will back and she knew how much they needed each other right now.

But where did that leave her? 

She wasn’t going to lie, she missed him. She didn’t even think that was possible considering about two weeks and a few days ago she paid him no attention. But when they went through something traumatic, she somehow bonded with him. It was strange but their lives were now. And she just really wanted to know what he was going to say on that couch before Steve interrupted.

Steve. That seemed to be all Steve was doing, interrupting. That sounded harsh, because he really had the best of intentions now, but Nancy’s mind was too preoccupied with Jonathan to go back to the girl that cared about if she should curl or straighten her hair for Steve’s date. But, he really wanted to get back together and to prove to her he changed. She was blindsided when he showed up at her door with roses and apologies a week ago. She couldn’t blame him either though, she did feel closer to him since they fought the demogorgon together as well. But she couldn’t bring herself to get back together with him, despite how much he apologized for what he did. She had to know what was lingering with Jonathan.

She jumped, the sound of her phone ringing pulling her out of her thoughts. She sighed, there was about a 90% chance it was Steve, but she couldn’t help the tugging bit of hope it was Jonathan, at least trying to talk to her. Besides seeing him dropping off and picking up Will, she barely saw him. Awkward ‘hello's and ‘how are you doing?’s at school, but that was it.

“It’s not him.” a voice startled her, not noticing Mike appearing in her doorway. “He just came and picked up Will like, five minutes ago, there’s no way he’s home yet.”

“Oh.” Nancy nodded, trying not to look too disappointed. Was this the level she was on now? Her little brother feeling sorry for her? She really was pathetic. “Thanks.” She mumbled.

“No problem.” He replied just as glumly, but made no movement from her doorway.

“Is everything okay?” She tried not to sound like the old Nancy that wanted nothing to do with her younger brother. She was genuinely concerned about him, she knew losing El hit him hard, despite how happy he was to have Will back. In a way, they both lost someone. She wondered idly if this not arguing aspect to their relationship would last.

“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded unconvincingly. “Just, maybe try, giving him some time..?” Mike suggested, Nancy ducked her head down.

“I’m trying.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I will.” She tacked on, still not meeting his eyes.

“Good.” Mike was starting to say when the phone rang behind Nancy again, causing her to roll her eyes. “He needs you too.” Mike finished, leaving Nancy alone with her thoughts for just a moment, wondering how her baby brother got to be so insightful, since when he started caring about her feelings. Before she could think about it too much, she groaned, giving in and grabbing the phone to talk to Steve for the night.

That was the way it was. Nancy wondered if she’d ever see him again, considering Will was under very severe watch and they still didn’t really  know what was wrong with him. There were doctors appointments and meetings with the Chief, Nancy wouldn’t blame him for not having enough time to think about her.

It kind of sucked though. Nancy sighed as she walked through the school corridor, hugging her books while she walked towards her locker. There was nothing but excitement in the air, this being their last week of school before Christmas break. It was shown by kids cramming for finals as they walked to class or kids who are going to fail because they already decided their break has started. She was indifferent to it as she pushed her combination on the dial of her locker. As she opened the door, she was somewhat startled when a body came up to lean next to hers.

“Hey Nance!” Steve grinned down at her as she exchanged her books.

“Oh, Hey Steve,” She gave him a polite smile. “What’s up?”

“Not much, but I have a question for you. Do you have plans after school today?” Nancy only raised an eyebrow as she shook her head tentatively. “Okay, what do you say we hang out together after school? We can do whatever you want, you know, go to the movies or, anything. What do you want to do?”

However, as Steve spoke Nancy’s attention shifted from him to a familiar boy walking down the hallway. “Jonathan?” She asked aloud, earning a confused look from Steve as she spoke.

He turned around though, “Would you look at that...do we even know the last time he’s been to school?”

“I don’t know,” Nancy mumbled. It was a lie, he was here last Thursday. She remembered because she waved at him in the hallway before the bell rang, not that it mattered. He missed a lot recently due to taking care of Will, and it looked like administration was giving him a free pass for the rest of the year (courtesy of the chief she was sure). “Sorry, I gotta go Steve.” She said hurriedly, slamming her locker shut. “I’ll, uh, talk to you later.” She offered him one last smile as she followed the boy around the corner, not giving him another glance.

“Hey Jonathan!” She called, causing him to turn around.

“Nancy, hey.” He smiled, and despite herself, she did too.

“What’s up? How are you, doing?” She waded through her words, somewhat shy now that he was actually in front of her, forcing him to talk to her. “I haven’t seen you in...forever, it feels.”

“Oh, um, I’m okay.” He stumbled through his own words, obviously lying. “How are you doing?”

Nancy licked her lips. She wasn’t mad he was lying, she was mad he was lying to her. They were supposed to be friends, and according to Mike and his gang the golden rule of friendship was that friends don’t lie to each other. “Good. Thanks.” She nodded, biting down on her lip. Jonathan nodded as she did, the awkward “we’re both not saying what we’re really thinking” feeling lingering in the air was enough to choke her. But she had no idea what to do about it. “Well, it’s good to see you.” She tried, but she spoke without really thinking it through before he could reply. “Jonathan, you know you can talk to me, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course I know that Nancy.” He looked like he genuinely meant what he said too, which just confused Nancy more.

“Then why don’t you?” She tried not to look hurt when she asked but it was one of the many things bothering her. In his defense, it’s not like she was calling him or showing up at his door to spill her feelings. But it was different with her (she told herself), he was too busy for that.

“I-” Jonathan faltered, genuinely not having an answer for her. He couldn’t tell her he stayed away from her, afraid every time she looked at him she’d think of the worst week of their lives. He didn’t want to tell her he was trying to give her space after everything that happened, after losing Barb. That even though he was busy, he saw Steve with her, basically begging for a second chance. That they were bound to get back together, and life would go back to normal.

“You know what,” Nancy said after a moment, Jonathan clearly struggling to answer. “Forget about it. This has been the craziest few weeks of our entire lives, I’m not gonna interrogate you about why you don’t really talk to me. But, you can.” A smile played on Nancy’s lips now. “Like it or not Jonathan Byers, you have a friend.” She bumped her shoulder against his lightly.

Jonathan actually laughed, grateful the tension was gone. “I’m not opposed to having friends.” She hummed, giving him a look. “Fine, but I am glad it’s you.” Nancy brightened at his words, glad he was actually talking to her.

She now genuinely smiled. “Good. Plus, I know how you can make it up to me.”

“Oh, yeah? How?”

“By having lunch with me today.” She shrugged, now walking down the hall in sync with him. As if on cue, the bell rang as he nodded. “Meet me by my locker later.” She ordered him as she gave him one last smile as she walked off in the direction of her class, her heart beating just a little bit faster.

The next several hours dragged on by, Nancy not really interested in paying attention to her lectures. Sure, finals might kick her ass but she couldn’t be bothered to think about physics when she was finally spending time with Jonathan again. Not like three weeks had been a long time, but it felt like it to her. She practically ran out of third period and to her locker, surprised to already see him there.

“Hey,” She greeted him, arching an eyebrow as she opened her locker.

“Hey, uh, Mr. Baker let us out early.” She nodded, understanding.

“Well, where do you want to eat?”

They decided to eat outside on the hood of Jonathan’s car, more privacy that way to where nosy tenth graders wouldn’t be able to eavesdrop on their conversations about killing a monster from a different dimension (and then report them to the counselor or spread rumors about them both being clinically insane). Not that Nancy even knew what to say or how to start up said conversation, considering her mind was racing a mile a minute and her hands were shaking slightly. It was also somewhat cold considering it was December in Indiana, but Nancy ignored that and curled into her sweater more to avoid the chill as she ate her grapes. It wasn't supposed to start snowing until next week anyway.

Nancy looked around for a few moments, thinking of something to strike up a conversation about. She wrung her hands around, only stopping when she felt pain in her palm. Her cut, which was now bandaged up and would shape up to be a nice scar. She hummed, causing Jonathan to look over at her.

“What?” He chuckled.

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “How’s yours?” She asked, gesturing to her hand. He laughed, putting his out as well. His was clumsily wrapped up, she assumed Will did it.

“Never better. Yours?” He smiled.

She shrugged. “Never better.” A smile broke out on her face as well.

And after a few moments, they picked up conversation surprisingly easily. Jonathan started to tell her about mix tapes he made for Will, since he didn’t have a camera anymore (giving Nancy an idea for a Christmas present), he’d been listening to a lot more music and reading more books. Nancy gave him some suggestions as well, considering she happened to like reading as a hobby. Every once in awhile there was a beat of silence as they struggled with the surrealism of the whole situation, them talking about normal things and not hunting monsters. But they never lasted long, mainly because the silence became too unbearable for Nancy so she spoke up about whatever was on her mind.

“Mike told me Will’s doing better.” She broke the last pause quite easily with her statement, but her tone made it sound more like a question.

“Yeah, yeah. He’s doing way better now,” Jonathan ducked his head. “At first, he wasn’t. It was like...he was a different person.” He explained as Nancy listened with concern evident in her eyes. “But now, thanks to the doctors I think, it’s like he’s back to his old self again.”

Nancy smiled as Jonathan did, the relief he was feeling was evident by the look on his face as he talked about his brother. Nancy felt something deep inside pull at her, almost wishing she was that close with Mike, she brushed it off though. “Well it has to help him having you around.” She shrugged, not admitting to herself she was recalling from personal experience. Except she’d been in the Upside Down for about 15 minutes and she was clinging onto Jonathan for the rest of the night basically, she couldn’t imagine what Will was going through. She, luckily, didn’t have to though as Jonathan kept the conversation going.

“How’s Mike doing? Have there been any clues about what happened to…?” He lowered his voice as he asked.

“Eleven? No.” She looked to her hands in her lap now. “Mike, he’s really upset about it, but he still thinks she’s out there, that she’s okay. I hope she is, not only for her sake but his.” The concern for her younger brother was now obvious, but it’s not like Mike would talk to her about this kind of stuff anyway.

“Maybe she is.” He shrugged, and Nancy did too. As odd as it sounded, it felt good to talk about this stuff. She didn’t really have anyone to talk about it with, and it sort of weighing on her. Jonathan must’ve noticed something on her mind.

“Are you okay?” He asked with genuine worry.

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Nancy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s just...I haven’t really talked about what happened much.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you-”

“No, no. It’s okay. It’s actually good. No one really wants to talk about it, but I feel like sometimes I need to.”

Jonathan nodded, understanding the weight behind her words. Everyone wanted everything to go back to normal somehow. As if that was even possible, Nancy wouldn’t even know where to begin and she suspected the same of Jonathan. But they were actively going against everything that used to be normal by just talking to each other.

Here she was, having lunch with Jonathan Byers. Something a month ago Nancy would’ve never even considered, despite how friendly they were because of their brothers. She chuckled despite herself at the thought.

“What?” Jonathan asked, now lighthearted.

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just...isn’t it crazy how everything happened? Like, last month, we didn’t even know each other! And now, here we are…” She smiled as she spoke, Jonathan following.

“Being friends?” He finished for her.

She met his eyes now as she nodded. “Yeah. Friends.” She affirmed. Her heart beat just a little bit faster though. Was that all they were?

There was a beat as they both took in each others words, each other’s presence.

“Hey, Nancy?” Jonathan mumbled, and Nancy looked up at him beneath her eyelashes. He had a similar expression on his face as he did on their moment on his couch and suddenly this was it, her heart was racing.

“Yeah?” Her reply was barely audible, she was too busy trying to read him with her eyes. This was all too much, she felt excited and nervous but more than anything she was curious and  just wanted to know what he was going to say.

“I-” Jonathan started, only to be cut off by shouting across the courtyard. Both their heads turned to the sound that was only a idiot jock being stupid with his friends. Nancy would go strangle him if she didn’t have hope Jonathan was going to continue.

“What were you going to say?” She asked softly, desperately trying to bring back the moment that was now gone. He could still say it, they could still have their moment.

“I’m, uh, just wanted to say thanks. You know, you were such a help a few weeks ago and for...” he trailed off. “Anyway, I, uh, I appreciate it.” He finished hurriedly, not looking anymore. Nancy let her shoulders drop, just knowing that wasn’t what he was actually planning to say.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” She pressed her lips together though, determined to get his actual confession out of him. Slowly, she reached to take his hand in hers. “Jonathan, are you sure-” And as if fate couldn’t be anymore against them, the bell rang now, interrupting her and causing him to jump. It’s not like she cared though, none of this stuff was more important than Jonathan confessing to her even though she feared they missed that opportunity. She suppressed an eye roll before she spoke again, still looking at him in that gentle way she did before. “Jonathan, are you sure that’s what you were going to say?” They were so close now, maybe she should just lean in and just kiss him and have all this bullshit be over with.

Still, she waited for him to speak. She could tell there was doubt and clouded judgment in his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m sure Nancy.” He met her eyes briefly, giving her nothing but a fake smile she could see right through. He squeezed her hand to confirm and she repressed the urge to actually groan now, how much more obvious could she be? He really didn’t think he wasn’t good enough for her, that she should get back with Steve, did he? Did he really think she was that shallow suburban girl archetype she hated?

Or maybe, he was never going to confess to her. Maybe he was just genuinely happy to have a friend, considering it didn’t seem like he had one before. Maybe that was all he saw Nancy as. (Maybe that’s what she told herself). She tried not to let her hopeful expression fall so quickly, but she had a feeling she looked disappointed. “You sure?” She asked still, inching away from him now to collect her things. He was as well.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks Nancy.” He smiled one more time, and she gave him one too that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She saw him longing to say more just by looking in his eyes.

“Okay.” She nodded, not believing him as she untangled their hands, instantly feeling cold where his hand was. Still, she packed up her things. “Well, I have to get to class, and I know you do too.” She tried to tease him, and he still laughed despite how forced it must have sounded. “I’ll, uh, see you around? Okay?”

“Yeah.” He mumbled back, the tense silence returned. How did they always find themselves never being able to say what they actually wanted to say to one another? Jonathan could sense her disappointment (and may or may not have mistaken it for annoyance. Or worse, anger) because he called to her as she got up. “Hey Nancy?”

“Yeah?” She turned around, the last small piece of hope inside of her praying not to be crushed.

“We’re good, right?” Jonathan took a pause, looking nervous as he licked his lips. “Friends?”

Nancy softened at the look on his face and nodded, willing herself to give him a real smile that she hoped didn’t look sad as she paused. “Yeah, of course. Friends.” Just friends. She gave him one last look and smile before walking away, scolding herself for getting her hopes up. But a part of her was just happy to have him in her life now.

She was, however, racking her brain as she walked back towards the school, pulling her books out. Should she wait even longer? What was she even waiting for? The day he realized he didn’t want to be just friends? What if that never came? She contemplated for a moment as she walked through the school doors if she should be the one to say something to him, but she’d have no idea where to even start. ‘Hey I know you just got your brother back and you’re beyond busy with that and not only that but we’re both suffering from some major PTSD here but I have a hunch you like me because you always look like you say you’re going to but never actually say it but I think you should because I like you too’?

Before she could give it anymore thought, a hand tugged on her arm as she passed by the lockers. “Hey, Nance.”

She turned around to just see it was only Steve who caught up to her. Of course it was Steve, he was always there. “Oh, hey Steve. What’s up?” She hoped she still didn't look disappointed.

“I just-” He pulled her aside in the middle of the busy hallway as kids quickly made their way to class. “I wanted to apologize about earlier. I know I came on kind of strong about hanging out today so we don’t have to if you don’t want to-” He started as she second bell rang, signaling you had about another minute before you were actually late to class.

“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.” She said hurriedly, eyeing him for a moment before she was actually rushing to class. “I’ll see you after school?” She said as she slowly without really thinking the decision through as she started to walk away. This didn’t mean anything, did it? She’d given Jonathan three weeks now, it’s not like she was choosing Steve. Was she?

“Wait, really?” She didn’t miss how Steve was grinning.

“Yeah. Only if you let me get to class on time though.” She said, caving just a little as she started to walk away.

“Whatever you want Nancy!” He shouted down the hallway after her.

A small smile played on her lips all the way from the hallway to her seat in class, part of her still trying to decide how she should feel about Jonathan now. Despite how excited she wanted to be about later though, her smile fell when she thought about how she’d rather be spending the afternoon with Jonathan instead.

#wow i posted the whole thing on tumblr idk why cause i normally dont but why not some people dont use ao3 #anyway enjoy pls dont sue im working on something post canon next pinky promise #jancy #jonathan x nancy #otp: it's definitely you #jancy fanfic #jancy fanfiction #nancy x jonathan #lb: stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #my writing