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icequeenlila · 9 months

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Drawn to his Light

Context: Will has been missing for the past few days, after he got vecnad and now the burned grinch keeps him as his avatar/vessel.

Mike felt his heart still inside his chest, setting out several beats.

There was Will. There was Will. He had found him.

His heart picked up its work again, hammering furiously against his rip cage.

“Will!”, he called, running towards him. “Will, are you okay?”

He fired the light signal, while stumbling towards his best friend.

The other would find them. They had split up in their search for the boy.

Nancy and Mike. Joyce and Jonathan. Steve and Dustin. El and Hopper. Lucas, Erica and Murray.

Mike and Nancy had been assigned to the woods. As were Jonathan and Joyce. The others were covering different areas.

“ … If I go there will be trouble …. stay I’ll make it double … let me know … should I stay or should I go … “

Will was singing to himself.

Mike fell to his knees in front of him, taking him by the shoulders and shaking, shaking, shaking, crying for Will to wake up, to come back.

“Will. Hey, Will!”

He put his hands to Will’s cheeks, making him look up at him. There was no resistance, Will’s head weighing heavy in his palms. And then, finally, Mike was looking into his eyes.

Into his eyes. Will’s eyes. Warm hazel, instead of that burning glow. Will instead of Vecna.

“Mike”, he rasped and his voice was raw. Like he had gone without water for days, because he probably had.

Chapped lips, dried tears on his cheeks, dirt and blood sticking to them. Will looked meager, dark shadows under his eyes. Mike was almost sure he could see blue veins under white skin that seemed paper thin.

“Yes”, Mike smiled, pure relief flooding his whole being. Relief so great, it hurt him physically.

“Yes, yes, I’m here, you’re here and you’re gonna be okay, I promise, I promise, I promise you Will.”

Mike was rambling, he knew he was, but he couldn’t care less. He was holding his best friend, the boy he loved more than the world and Will was breathing and his eyes were his own. He had his Will back. This was Will who was looking right back at him. His eyes tired and worn, but Will.

“Mike.”

Will almost smiled at him, his eyes incredibly warm, despite of the pain they held.

“Yes”, Mike cried and he didn’t even care that he did. “I’m here, I got you. I’ll take you home, Will. Everyone will be so happy to have you back safe.”

He was stroking his thumbs over Will’s broken skin, swiping away tears and dirt and blood and he was happy. Mike was beyond happy, relieved, whole, and he wanted nothing more but to kiss him.

He almost did. If it wasn’t for Will’s smile fading away.

“I’m sorry”, Will said, his eyes still incredibly warm.

“What?”

Mike frowned, not understanding. He searched Will’s eyes for an answer but only found him looking past him. Past Mike and directly at Nancy.

Mike turned around, finding his sister standing frozen, staring at Will with wide eyes.

“Now?”, she asked, her voice small, trembling.

Nancy looked scared, like something horrible had just dawned on her.

Mike looked back at Will and then at his sister again. “What’s going on here?”

He pressed down firmer on Will’s cheeks, forcing him to look at him. “What’s wrong, Will? Is he still in there?”

Vecna. He had taken Will. The cold glow inside his eyes. He had hurt them.

Some common sense seeped back into Mike’s mind as the adrenalin finally subsided. The situation had been bad. His friend was himself right now, but that couldn’t be it.

Or could it, maybe?

Could they, for once in their life, just be lucky?

Will’s gaze focused back onto him, into his eyes, searching for something there. He opened his mouth, taking in a soft breath. And then he hesitated, eyes still searching.

Mike felt warm all over, with Will’s focus solely on him.

Whatever Will found inside his eyes, it was enough to make him huff out the softest of laughs, weak and broken but warm, warm, warm, brimming with light, because Will always was. Will was light. And Mike was the moth aching for it, always.

“I love you.”

Will’s voice was soft, dripping with warmth. And Mike was rendered speechless.

He looked at Will.

That’s it. He just looked.

Floating.

He felt like floating. Warmth. Light. Will.

He waited too long. Mike waited too long. Because, Will smiled at him, sad, broken, warm. Still, so incredibly warm, because everything about him was.

And he pushed Mike away.

Will pushed him away and Mike could feel the force of it inside his chest, he felt himself being pushed and pushed and pushed away, like an invisible hand was pressing down and down and down against him.

And he saw Will moving farther and farther away. Only it was Mike, who was moving away. Because Will had pushed him.

With his mind. Just like El would have.

Just like Vecna.

“No”, Mike muttered when he finally realized.

But it was too late.

Red burst from Will, exploding into the dawn, wrapping him and Nancy into a whirling mass of glowing matter, blocking Mike out.

“No!”

It was too late.

His sister. The boy he loved. They were swallowed whole.

And Mike could only watch.

So, before the Avatar obsession hit, I was a Stranger Things girl. I wrote this for fun. It's a nice little change and writing short stuff once in a while keeps me motivated. There's gonna be more to this, but only like a One Shot. Different povs on how shit goes down. Nancy and Will have an agreement that nobody else knows about. A lot of pain, bc I'm good at that. I will post the finished thing on ao3 when it's done. But like I'm absolutely not rushing to do so. I have an ongoing Avatar fic I need to keep going and I'm planning on a brand new one for the same fandom. The plotting is a bitch.

(Also, no idea if this has been done before. I only ever read Steddie fics in the Stranger Things Fandom)

#byler #stranger things #will byers has powers #mike wheeler #will byers #nancy wheeler #stranger things fic #will x mike #angst #no happy ending #will byers and nancy wheeler friendship #pain and suffering #muahahaha #Nancy is a badass but this one shakes her core #Will byers is too precious for this world #like literally #if you catch my drift

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anniesocsandgeneralstore · 2 years

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OC Edits - Joan x Gally spying on WCKD

#tmr oc #oc community #ocapp #oc appreciation #florence pugh face claim #the power of suffering #gally x oc #oc edit #will poulter #oc: joan #fic: the power of suffering #fd: the maze runner

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butwhatifidothis · 1 year

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vomit is going to ooze out of my pores

#O captain my captain #chapter 64 is hell #''maybe me PEACEFULLY trying to lead humans to peace is the same as when humans tried to MURDER US FOR POWER AFTER WE DID NOTHING WRONG''#''maybe what I did is the same as this girly who FORCED A CONTINENT TO SUFFER THROUGH WAR FOR HALF A DECADE SO SHE COULD BECOME A HEGEMON''#shut up shut up shut up holy shit omg this fic is freshly shat shit from the rankest ass ever

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impishtubist · 10 months

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AU where Harry doesn’t die at Godric’s Hollow - but Voldemort isn’t defeated, either. Sirius arrives to find Voldemort in possession of his baby godson and refusing to give him up (b/c, shit, that’s one powerful baby, and Voldy wants to harness that power!).

No one knows that Sirius isn’t the traitor. It’s easy enough to explain to the remaining DEs - all Voldy has to say is that he’s the only one who knows that Sirius was working for him, and they’d all believe him. Voldy blackmails Sirius into playing along. He’ll keep Harry at his, idk, lair or whatever, but Sirius can also live there and raise Harry IF he goes along with the ruse that he was the Secret Keeper who betrayed the Potters and IF he allows Voldy to spirit Harry away whenever he wants to study him/his magic.

So now Sirius is pretending to be a Death Eater, has to allow the whole world (including Remus) think he’s a traitor, has to keep himself from murdering Wormtail (unless Wormy is off living as a rat somewhere??), and has to keep Harry safe while secretly trying to figure out how tf to get them out of this situation.

idk is this anything

#this is NOT a tom/harry or voldy/harry prompt dear lord #voldy does not give one shit about this kid except to study him and his powerful magic #sirius still raises harry but uh he has to pretend to be evil #maybe he even has to go along on some DE raids and kill some people just to keep up the ruse????#omg maybe he confronts remus while keeping up the ruse and can't let him know the truth????#god sirius would be SUFFERING so much #the only bright spot in his life is harry and watching him grow #good godfather sirius black #imp fic prompt #someone write this or send me a link if it's already been written #BUT NO HARRY/VOLDY OR HARRY/TOM #omg wait what if sirius has to make nice with his batshit cousin #and that means he has to sometimes sleep with bellatrix #oh god he would HATE that #but he'll do anything for harry...#sirius black #harry potter

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iangallagherisadeadman · 4 months

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i hate the plot of svetlana and her father/husband, but i saw it as an opportunity to reflect upon her character, her little milkovich child, her relationship with fatherhood, mickey and his involvement in yevgenys life.

obs. I'm NOT saying in any way that I believe Mickey has the obligation to raise Yevgeny as he didn't choose to engage in the sexual relation that led to Yev's conception.

svetlana and fatherhood

what was all of that about stevlana and her dad? i finished shameless and i still dont totally get it. was she really married? i believe so cause none of her other marriages were legal. how did that happened? what is her dad like? when she married her russian husband? just everything seemed rushed and i wish he had more info about it.

either way, I remember she said once to mickey that she named their kid after her father and hes like "didnt the bastard fucking sold you as a sex slave for like 300 dollars" (which I think is really nice cause that means she shared with him that information voluntarily) to which she responded something like "yes but still he had some good in him". later she says to kev that she supported her father and all that cause she owned him for taking care of her until she was like idk nine years old and could take care of herself and i remember seeing someone here saying it is probably because in russia is really common for the father to abandon his children so the fact he stuck around means a lot to her.

it all makes me believe that the image of a father is of importance for svetlana. doesn't that means that she would want mickey to be involved in their childrens life then? i mean he was for a while as she forced him to until his boyfriend kidnapped her children and babys father went to jail and then she held back and i understand it i totally do but now that they have all growned up and gallavich is a somewhat resonable couple with somewhat legal jobs and somewhat living an honest life wouldn't she want them in her and more specifically her childrens life again?

svetlana and mickey

noel once said in an interview for s5 that he believes that in some ways Svetlana is perfect for Mickey cause shes strong where hes not and she complements him, and i believe that too. at the beginning every time shes onscreen she looks scared as shit truly frightened but as the episodes go on and they interact more it seems like she can perceive how small and frightened mickey is under all that bad boy facade and she grows upon him and then they get in a fighting-friendly-respect-disrespect relation in which they recognize each other somehow, and than that went sideways after the whole yev kidnap. mickey probably thought he was wrong thinking he could ever play family, that he could ever be any different and be something other than a fucked up in the kids life, that hes not up to being a parent and that theyre better off without him and make them go away; he chooses to take care of ian instead of his family by s5 end when he said svetlana could leave if she wasn't accepting ian coming back to their house after kidnap episode.

fact is svetlana and mickey found themselves in challenging situations simultaneously. svet was an undocumented immigrant who resorted to prostitution as her only means of survival, while mickey grappled with complex issues involving his love life, sexuality, and the pressure to conform to his fathers expectations, leading a life he didnt desire. despite these difficulties they shared the experience of becoming parents at a young age which significantly altered the course of their lives and their relationship. they were both the source of pain and the potential for each other's salvation. their relationship was fraught with difficulties as mickey treated svet poorly, refusing to acknowledge her as his wife despite her longing for the american dream through marriage and family, which she quite fought for at the beginning when she seemed to hope he would eventually love her (she was gentle and submissive and played perfect little wife). instead, he agreed to fulfill a fatherly role, and they supported each other superficially, lacking a deeper connection. for mickey, lana was an instrument to appease his father while simultaneously being a painful remark of everything he wasnt and didnt want to be, all while introducing complications into his relationship with Ian.

even with all the differences they faced, they had a lot in common, as they both were young and trying to survive, living lifes they didnt choose, the whole respect for their piece of shit fathers that they shared, the fact theyre both queer, how they dont trust others and try not to rely on no one and solve things with their hands and they both have bad manners and dirty mouths and take aggressive approaches to solve their problems and are always scheming and find hard to change their nature. they have a lot in common and they got to find that out while living together and fighting each other, trying with effort to shape one another so they would comply to play the role and accommodate to the life each was expecting to build. svetlana made mickey take off the nazi posters he had as is stated in s3 finale and would threaten and blackmail him into doing what she wanted during s4, and he would do his best to fight her by trying to scare her with threats and make her submissive holding her in an inferior place by diminishing her and calling her names in s4 until they grow to a somewhat peaceful relation in s5 even including ian.

them as a throuple happy family worked for a while and i mean i doubt she has anyone even as close as a colleage in her life right now she doesnt trust easily and v and kev are out of scene and she is married to that rich guy etc. so having a friendly relation with mick again seems like doable? desirable even maybe for her? at that time by s5 they were both dealing with illegal jobs and svet was raising her kid barely by herself and mick was using A LOT of drugs like pills and drinking and cocaine and crack i think and still they made it work for a while so only imagine what they could do now that theyre both at their best.

after s11

also, she is married to that rich dude but its a fact that hes not going to live longer and i know my girl is smart svet did her thing secured that bag stole and gained and got what she could but the plot said that the marriage was under the regime of separation of property meaning she isnt going to get any goods after her hushbands death and probably is not going to have contact with her husbands family cause theyre not close so not only she will have freedom but she will be lonely right. until she finds her a wife at least.

I know the importance of family isnt for the milkovichs what it is for the gallaghers and that yev came as result of an abuse relation, but mick didnt seem to take that on the child once he was born and he was taking care of him, he didnt seem to resent him or hate him or see terry and be hurt by it. i mean he does process trauma in such unexpected unexplained ways that i cant really vision how he trully feels about yev, other than how he rejected fatherhood in s4 and his comments with ian in s11 about not believing he can be a good parent, but s5 in the police station theres a lot of "hes a good kid" from the officer and mickey holding and kissing yev only to take care of ian as debbie hold yev on the passager seat in the way home that was made on purpose and i perceive it as he likes yev but hes afraid to break him. idk if there could ever be the same feeling that lip has with fred, of wanting to be a better father for him than he ever had. thats probably not micks thing. but i can see him at some point wanting to know about yev, and who he became, what is he like, and bonding with him, even more so cause hes not bad with kids they would hit it right away. probably a more friendly bond than father son tho. as for ian, there is that deleted scene of him visioning him mick svet and yev as a happy family and even thought he was maniac i think that came from the heart hes good with kids and he wants a family with mick and he lived a nice life with svetlana and he said to fiona he loves yev.

headcanons

there is the fact that svetlana probably never talk about mick and never went to see him anymore onscreen cause mick might probably not be babys dad but i like to think yev really is a milkovich just because they reproduce like fucking rabbits and i think thats really funny. also the beggining of s6 makes it clear he had done jobs from inside jail before so that he could get commissary money and svet could raise yev with her share, so s6e1 states they somewhat worked together which leads to suppose svetlana and mickey hold a friendly relationship even after they fight cause ian kidnapped yev and mick kind of kicked her out their house, AND since she asks ian to accompany her in the visit shes ok with him too it seems. ALSO not only i think is reasonable to assume they kept in contact for a while when he was inside and only got some distance as she was building her life with her relationship with kev and v and the allibi and he started getting involved in dangerous stuff with the mexicans (since in theory she visited him with divorce papers), i truly believe they only cut off contact completely when he told her he was leaving for mexico cause i mean he told terry i truly believe he told her too.

like i know a lot of people want galladads but i just see it as unresonable they came out of jail theyre traumatized and never done therapy ian fucking stole a baby and that baby was under micks supervision they fucking suck thats the true!! and i would kind like to see them taking responsibility for yev and bonding somewhat. just imagine what kind of parenting that kid would have hes probably unhinged since his parents are freaks. also i think that the more your parents control a kid the more they want to be a rebel (karen-like) and since he was raised by horrible people he is probably the opposite, really calm and mature for his age etc kind of like liam. hes also probably smart since he had a good education and speaks a lot of languages like svet, and aggressive but not fist like? i can vision it, mick telling him about what he was up to when he had yevs age and them playing videogames and mick like spitting on the floor or idk trying to teach him how to fillet a fish and yev totally disgusted by it cause hes a rich little motherfucker and then yev enthusiastically trying to explain the last robotic ethics article he read and is really excited about and making science fiction comparisons so that mick can understand it. OH ALSO also i believe yev is really into the fact hes half russian and knows a lot about its culture and all and wants mick to know more about ukraines and eat their food and know their history and learn their langague and that makes mick PISSED i just know it.

#!: ☆ other posts of mine include: shameless hot takes ; shameless x arctic monkeys ; gallavich x this velvet glove ; shameless moodboards ; shameless playlists ; saddest character ending: karen

#idc what everybody says svetlana and mickey are kind of a badass couple #i like their dynamic more than lana v and kev #yes theyre mean to each other but i kind of dig it #i just wish they hadn't provoked so much suffering #i also know for a fact they had a lot of sharing and more friendly moments and i wish we saw those onscreen #this is probably the healthiest milkovich marriage until then #yes she suffered a fucking lot cause she cared for the baby and she is a woman and theres power inbalance between them but fuck #didnt i thrilled every time they interacted #nobody ever speaks about the amount of drugs mick use in s5 too and it always bothers me soo much like baby what is it that ur running from #anyway i really want to read fics like this in which svet and mick after s11 raise yev #rambling non stop lol #shameless #svetlana yevgenivna #mickey milkovich #yevgeny milkovich #ian gallagher #gallavich #galladads #og.

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scoopertrouper · 1 year

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ahoy, maties. i return not with a prompt fill, but with a Steve POV companion piece to this post-S2/pre-S3 post-stancy breakup prompt fill because i'm sick in the head. read at your own risk.

3,400ish words (somehow) of nonsense under the cut.

~*~*~*

i'll be alright [it's just a thousand cuts]

He sees her sometimes.

It’s not like he’s, like, looking for her. He’s not, because no matter what Robin says, Steve’s not a maso…a macho…a mecha…okay, like, one of those weirdos who gets his rocks off by getting smacked around or whatever.

He’s not.

It’s just that it’s kinda hard to totally avoid her. According to her brother, Hawkins is, like, smaller than Thor’s thumbnail – and Christ, he really needs to stop hanging around those little dweebs if that’s the kind of shit he’s absorbing – so it’s hard not to see her. Anywhere. Everywhere.

But it’s usually only just out of the corner of his eye. A flutter of flowery skirt disappearing between the aisles at Melvald’s, or the bounce of perfectly set brown curls right as she’s crossing Main Street, walking with quick little steps that are so purposeful.

(Steve used to spend most of free period making a mess of those curls, tangling them between his fingers, testing how far he could go before she’d swat his hands away. They were soft as one of his mom’s silk scarves, but somehow still not as soft as her lips when they’d curve against his, her little body arching between his hips and the creaky leather of his backseat.)

He doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that whenever their paths cross, she’s always just out of focus, blurred at the edges like a messed up Polaroid.

It’s no secret that Steve’s no great lover of the language arts (no matter how many long lectures Henderson’s given him – from the front seat of Steve’s car, that Steve drives him around in – about why that’s hurting him with the chicks).

But he thinks maybe if he did give a shit about similes, or metaphors, or any of that crap that he’d mostly slept through in second period English, that it’d be a pretty decent way to sum up their relationship. A couple pictures that might’ve been pretty if they hadn’t gotten all smudged up.

Oh, and her new boyfriend’s a photographer. How’s that for poetic?

Anyway, Steve would have to be an idiot – more of an idiot – to actually go looking for her. So he doesn’t. Because he remembers how much it had hurt, forcing himself through the last seven months of his own goddamn senior year, seeing her every day and feeling tender as a walking, talking bruise, long after the worst of the damage to his face had faded. It’d been almost fucking unbearable, catching her eye only to see exactly how far he’d fallen reflected in them.

Back then (a whole two months ago) he hadn’t even tried to play it cool, had figured it was still common enough knowledge that she could step on his neck, no questions asked, and he’d probably thank her for it. Ask her to do it again, if only to keep her undivided attention for just one more second.

But that was then. Now, he’s moving on.

Mostly.

Trying to.

It’d help if the universe would cooperate – if, at the same time he’d lost Nancy, he hadn’t also somehow lost every bit of mojo that made Steve Harrington that guy, especially when it came to the ladies.

Because it’s definitely gone, and he didn’t need Tracey Wiltshire – who’d rocked full headgear until, like, the end of sophomore year – to stammer out some lame blow-off to confirm it.

It’s painfully evident every time he looks in the mirror, because he doesn’t see Steve Harrington – basketball star, swim captain, somebody who’s somebody – anymore. He just sees some loser in a shitty Popeye costume (which itches, Jesus). A loser who got laughed out of goddamn Tech.

Whose dad barely throws him more than a dismayed glance over the morning paper – when he’s around to read the morning paper, that is.

Who constantly finds new and creative ways to get splotches of Rocky Mountain Fudge where Rocky Mountain Fudge should never be, and takes home maybe ten bucks in tips on a good night.

Of course Na - Tracey wouldn’t want to waste her time on a dipshit like that. Who would?

But he’s not gonna give up, because he knows the only sure way out of a slump is to shoot through it. Besides, it’s not, like, not fun, letting Robin bust his balls nonstop on the days that they’re teamed up. She’s pretty ingenious, like, he wouldn’t be surprised if she goes home after every shift and shuts herself away in her little dork hidey hole until she’s got at least ten new zingers locked and loaded.

(Most of the time it's fun. More fun when she’s not leveling him with big SAT prep words, because then he has no choice but to try to return fire without revealing that he still has no goddamn clue what a charlatan is, no matter how many times Nancy’d drilled him on it last summer. And – surprise surprise – that usually doesn’t end well for him.

But come to think of it, she has kinda backed off from that lately. So maybe it’s more fun for her the other way, too.)

Anyway, he keeps trying, and ultimately racks up more “You Suck” ticks per shift than Robin has room for on her whiteboard (she’s been talking about starting a ledger, and yeah, that’s exactly what he needs, his failures all neatly leather-bound and cataloged in permanent marker).

You know what, though? It’s fine. It can’t last forever, right? Steve’s a pretty positive guy. Eventually, some girl’s gonna want to buy what he’s selling, even if what he’s selling isn’t a whole bunch more than a final fling with the homecoming king. One last stop on the Hawkins Express before it’s all frat boys and keg stands at Boilermakers tailgates.

(He can only imagine what Robin would have to say about that.)

On one Saturday in late June, he thinks he might be on the verge of a breakthrough. Thinks he’s maybe a free scoop of mint chocolate chip away from talking Lisa Kurtz into the back row of the 7:15 showing of Cocoon – because he’s always kind of wanted to see if her boobs really are bigger than her hair, and he’s running out of time to find out.

Things are going well, so according to the current logic of Steve’s life, that means something’s gotta step in to ruin it. And boy, is that something a doozy – all five-foot-four of her, freshly permed and pretty in pink kitten heels.

It’s been two months since Steve Harrington fully laid eyes on Nancy Wheeler. Two months since he’s admired – before he can stop himself – the little dimple in her chin and the delicate curve of her neck and shoulders, today draped carefully in a demure sundress.

Once upon a time, Steve would have taken great pleasure in wrecking that dainty piece of cotton, fisting it in his hands and bunching it all the way up to her waist.

“Hi,” she says softly, biting her lip, and Christ, how Steve wishes she’d stayed in the blurry outer rim of his brain. Because he’s looking right at her, and it’s blinding, the way she just fucking glows for no good reason. It’s worse than that time in fifth grade, when he’d maybe (probably) burned his retinas after Tommy dared him to stare straight into the sun for five whole minutes (he’d made it about fifteen seconds).

“Hey,” he finds it in himself to reply, and he congratulates himself on the way he stays so chill, right up until Lisa’s cup of mint chocolate chip tumbles out of his nerveless fingers and splatters all over the floor and a little bit all over her shoes.

(She’s not happy. There goes the 7:15 showing of Cocoon, along with his only shot this week at a mark in the “You rule” column.)

Now his date’s gone, stormed out in a cloud of Windsong so thick he can taste it, and gone too are his chances of escaping this encounter with minimal humiliation. Perfect.

(Thank god Robin’s still on her break. At least someone up there is still doing him a solid or two.)

Nancy’s eyes flick once, twice between Steve and the door.

“Am I…interrupting?” she asks slowly, as if this isn’t a public dining establishment, as if she doesn’t have as much right to be here as any other prospective paying customer. There’s a glint in her eyes that he doesn’t even try to decode. He’s not dumb enough to think he can still read Nancy Wheeler.

(That he’d ever been able to read her.)

“Not a chance,” Steve lies quickly, flipping the ice cream scoop with suddenly numb fingers. “Always room for one more on this flotilla of flavor!”

He’s pretty sure that was the right way to use “flotilla”, the way he’d overheard Robin say it last week. Like, ninety percent sure. Well. Sixty.

Also, what is wrong with him?

But Nancy smiles that little smile she used to give him every time he said something painfully dumb that she found charming in spite of herself, so no permanent damage, he guesses.

Not that it matters anymore. Because it doesn’t.

“A flotilla, huh?” she plays along. “That’s…a lot of flavors.”

“Thirty-two, to be exact,” he replies on autopilot. “They, uh, wanted one more than Baskin Robbins.” Goddamn it. He swears he used to be able to talk to girls. This girl, in particular.

“Oh,” she blinks. “Interesting.”

Okay, so. The last time Steve and Nancy had spoken for real, they’d just broken up. Billy Hargrove had basically made scrambled eggs of Steve’s brains. And yet somehow, it had still been less of a disaster than the last minute of his life.

Steve has to salvage this somehow.

“It’s…really not,” he admits. “But you’re sweet to pretend.” Without thinking, he moves to drag his hand nervously through his hair and comes away with his cap instead. Oops.

Still, though, they both laugh, and that’s better. Good, even. Getting back on track. He’s not a total lost cause.

“So, uh, what brings you to Starcourt?” he follows up, and that’s safe enough. Neutral. Boring. “Feels like most of Hawkins has been through here, not that that’s saying much. Haven’t really seen you around, though.”

That’s less safe, but she doesn’t seem offended. In fact, she’s still smiling, and Christ, Steve remembers why he hasn’t gone looking for this. Why he’s pointedly avoiding asking if she’s here alone.

“Well,” she says with a sly little curl of her lips, “I’ve been pretty busy. But – someone told me I was missing out on thirty-two flavors of ice cream.” It's almost flirtatious, until she steps forward and winces. “Actually, I think one of them’s on the floor.”

The floor…? Crap. Lisa’s ice cream. It’s still splattered all over where he dropped it.

“Oh shit, sorry,” Steve starts, warmth creeping up his collar. “I can - I can get that cleaned up.”

Ignoring Nancy’s protestations, he scrambles for the mop bucket they have to constantly keep within reach. Of course, it’s nowhere to be found – which means it’s definitely in the back room, which means he definitely can’t get it without drawing Robin’s attention. He pauses, debating.

“No – look, Steve, most of it’s still in the cup, I can just – I can just throw it away.”

Steve is circling the counter to assess the damage just as Nancy is crossing his path to get to the garbage can, and they’re one perilous step away from unwittingly splitting a hefty splotch of Maritime Mint Choco Chip when his reflexes kick in.

On instinct, his hands wrap around Nancy’s bare shoulders to stop her just before they collide and – oh. Oh.

See, he hasn’t touched Nancy Wheeler in damn near nine months, and now his - his skin is on her skin. She’s soft, and warm, and his palms look so big against the slim curves of her arms. He can feel exactly where goosebumps are prickling against the pads of his fingers.

This angle also gives him a perfect, painful view of the swoop of her neck that he’s never quite been able to put out of his head. There’s a dull flush creeping up her collarbone, and for one unhinged moment he wonders what she’d do if he just buried his face there, pressing his lips heavy against that searing hollow until she’s gasping, like he’s done so many times before.

He catches her gaze. Her eyes are bright under the fluorescents, and he can’t help but picture them glassy with alcohol and resentment, punctuated by a sullen mouth and punch-stained blouse. Staring him down like he’s some kind of Upside Down pond scum. Bullshit.

He has no idea what she sees now, but it probably isn’t much of an improvement.

Steve swallows, and steps back.

“Sorry,” he says roughly, retreating back behind the safety of the counter, heart pounding. Nancy looks relatively composed as she neatly disposes of her trash, but he at least still knows her well enough to notice how her fingers curl tightly around her purse strap, the only sign that she’s a fraction as shaken as he suddenly is.

Ask her what she wants. Ask her what she wants and give it to her so they can start pretending this conversation never happened as quickly as possible.

“So, uh, busy? What’s – what’s up in the world of Wheeler?”

For fuck’s sake, it’s like his mouth is completely disconnected from what’s left of his brain.

“Oh, uh.” Nancy looks startled, like that’s not what she’d been expecting him to say. “Yeah. I got an internship at the Hawkins Post with Jonathan.”

So. No tiptoeing around it. Steve gives himself credit for not flinching like he wants to, for nodding his head like that simple statement hasn’t landed like a gunshot.

“Nice. Probably a way cooler gig than dishing out sorbet to all the Jazzercise moms,” he cracks, only half joking.

She doesn’t laugh, though. Her face drops and she kind of hunches in on herself, and he instantly feels like shit even though he doesn’t think he said anything to be sorry for, doesn’t know what could’ve made her react like that. Good one, Steve.

“You might be surprised,” is all she gives him in response. He doesn’t know what to make of that. And honestly, it’s not his job to make something of it anymore, so he lets it go, and they linger in awkward silence for a few seconds.

For once – this one time only – he wishes that snot-nosed Sinclair brat would barge in, flanked by her entourage of equally snotty, pint-sized little dweeb friends, loudly demanding free samples of every flavor. That would at least give him a way out of this.

“Hey Steve?” Nancy looks at him like she’s steeling herself, and he recognizes that look, used to dread it back when they were dating. Time, he finds, hasn’t really changed the way he feels about it.

“Nancy?” he parrots back, defensive for no particular reason.

“The reason I came here today – that is, I just wanted to see if…” She cringes, trails off uncharacteristically, and he waits her out, with mounting unease.

Patience isn’t his strong suit, but he’s found that for Nancy Wheeler, he’s usually willing to try to be the things he’s not. For all the good it does. Did.

She sighs, and tries again.

“I just wanted to ask – how, how are you –”

“Hey, honey, if you’re gonna get your ice cream, get a move on. I still need to stop at the dry cleaners.” A bottle blonde perm pops into the shop, and Steve nearly exhales with overwhelming…relief? Disappointment?

Saved by Karen Wheeler.

She pauses, and Steve sees her notice him in real-time, watches the surprise dawn in her eyes as she identifies who’s behind the counter. “Oh. Hi, Steve.”

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler.” Karen’s always been nice enough to him, but he’s never been too sure how much she actually likes him. Like mother, like daughter, he guesses.

She gives Nancy an indecipherable look, and honestly, these Wheeler women have got to cool it with all the weird mind reading shit.

“I’ll be there in a sec,” Nancy replies to the question spoken out loud, a tad clipped, before turning back to Steve. “So,” she says, drawing out the “o” and tapping the case. She seems to have set aside whatever she was gonna ask. “I – I guess that’s my cue, then. Any recommendations?”

Steve’s already mid-scoop, and he’s absurdly pleased to watch her eyes go wide as he slides the cup of strawberry across the glass to her, with just a tiny flourish.

“Oh,” she stammers, “is that –”

“Strawberry,” he interrupts. “Your favorite. If – if that’s still right.” He doesn’t think that much has changed.

“It is,” she affirms, and there’s a dusting of pink across her cheeks that Steve refuses to believe is anything more than a reflection from the neon sign.

“On the house,” he says when she goes for her purse, and it’s softer than he means it to be, less cheerful – but thankfully steady. He can’t help but smile at her, and she returns it, a tiny, kind thing.

“Thanks,” she says after a moment. “I’ll…see you around?”

Not if I can help it, is what he thinks.

“Sure,” is what he says instead. “Anytime you need a scoop, I’ll be here.”

Nancy raises her spoon in a minute, unbearably cute farewell salute, and the swirl of her dress is the last thing he sees of her as she disappears into the food court.

(On her way out, she takes her $2 and drops it into the tip jar, and he pretends it doesn’t smart a little.)

“Well, well. Do my eyes deceive me, or are we looking at another tally for Team “You Suck”?”

Shit. Robin. Great. He hadn’t even heard her come out from the back.

Steve recognizes the dangerous note of glee in her voice, but for once he doesn’t have the energy to try to head it off at the pass.

“You know,” Robin continues, “Between this and the truly spectacular crash and burn I know you were hoping I wouldn’t see with Lisa, I think that makes today some kind of record-breaking –”

She must pick up something unusual in his face, though, because she cuts off abruptly. “Steve?”

“Huh?” He knows he’s gaping at the door like a dumbass, but it’s too hard to find the willpower to tear himself away while he’s also blocking out the trace after-scent of Nancy’s baby powder-soft perfume.

Robin doesn’t seem to know what to do when they’re not actively playing by whatever rules she’s silently set for the Shit on Steve Variety Hour. After a minute, he feels a nudge to the side of his foot, and he knows instinctively that it’s the toe of one of her battered Chucks.

He doesn’t look, but he’s pretty sure she’s staring at him like he’s the weirdo.

“You…okay, dingus?” She sounds genuinely concerned, and that’s what jolts him out of it. Because no way in hell is he gonna spill his guts about Nancy Wheeler to Robin-whatever-her-last-name-is in front the sample spoons and a few carved up tubs of hard serve.

Even if Robin’s not, like, totally tragic. Maybe she’s even kinda cute. If Steve squints. Hard.

“Dude, not the shoes,” he finally mumbles, though she’d barely touched him. Her silence is heavy and unimpressed, perfectly matching her face (as Steve discovers once he finally gives in and spares her a glance).

Reflexively, he hitches his shoulders up in a stiff shrug. Arranges his face into a smile that he hopes is more cool and carefree than psychotic.

“Course I am,” he says, and it comes easily. He returns her nudge with one of his own and ignores her scowl. “I’m always okay. I’m…I’m Captain Okay.”

Jesus. He’s glad that one never made it into the yearbook.

Robin seems willing to at least pretend to buy it, though, and as she threatens him with the dry erase marker (though he notices she doesn’t make a single tally), he feels the grin he’s pasted on edge into something more genuine. He almost believes it himself, in fact. He is okay.

Will be okay.

(He has to be.)

#stancy #stancy fic #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #my stuff #i had the worst time with this #but it was already 3/4 finished so i had to power through #and then i had to make you suffer with me #i will never try to enter steve's head again #next time i'm writing them TOGETHER #bc i'm tired of this grandpa

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