#nancy wheeler supremacy

[yxlenas]

What you said about Mike and Nancy really offended me.

Like, don't take this as an offense, but it really doesn't make sense.

How having a close relationship with Mike should prive Nancy of her individuality?

She can be close to Mike, and still be her own person.

And also, the fact that she's close with him probably means that she wants to.

It's not that they feel forced, or think they own each other this.

It simply means that they love each other, despite all the bikering.

And sometimes, it's just natural to have a close relationship with someone you grow up with, especially in a situation like the one Mike and Nancy found themselves into.

It doesn't apply to anyone, of course (and obviously Mike and Nancy are different from Will and Jonathan), but for a lot of siblings, it is like this.

And also, why the fuck should people be considered weird for simply headcanoning two characters' relationship the way they want to?

Shouldn't we all be free to give our interpretation on things?

Just because you think this, doesn't mean you have to offend others' opinion.

This is just my opinion, anyway.

But please, next time, at least think twice before making a post like that.

Just an advice.

(Again, no offense),

Nancy and Mike are canonically not close and people who want them to be tend to overvalue Mike's feelings and undervalue Nancy's.

She's not a prop for Mike's feelings and she surely is not a prop for Byler, which people tend to immediately lean into when they talk about how Nancy is a "bad sibling."

Stop reducing fictional women to support for mediocre men challenge failed.

[ronanceluvrr]

I despise when people, especially some Steddie shippers and Steve stans (& Hardcore Nancy antis) make Nancy out to be the villain and baby Steve. In s1, Nancy pointed a gun at Steve to SAVE him, not because of the slut shaming he did to her or any other bad things. Nancy's whole b*llshit speech was about how they were pretending like everything is okay, like they didn't kill Barb. This wouldn't of happened if Steve had actually tried to help her grieve instead of dismissing them more than once. Alcohol + bottled up feelings obviously don't mix well, I know Nancy drinking was not Steve's fault but he did say he wanted them to act like stupid teenagers for the night. Steve himself said that he needed that speech anyway. Nancy did not cheat on Steve, they basically confirmed their break up when Nancy visited Steve's gym class and they talked outside. When Steve went to visit her and said "What do I have to apologize for?" under his breath, it proves that he still thinks he did nothing wrong which proves once again he can't face reality for what it is and if he did apologize to Nancy then he it would be an insincere apology. In season 4, Nancy didn't flirt with Steve at all. If anything, all we saw was Nancy being caring towards him and worrying about his safety which is the bare minimum. We also saw that Nancy is attracted to him which is understandable but that doesn't mean she all of a sudden loves him now.

[fadeintoyou1993]

RONANCE APPRECIATION WEEK day five: details

[astreinomane]

I'll just leave this here.

[swanqueenelmaxshadowhunters]

Max: You were stabbed. Do you remember anything?

El: Only the ambulance ride to the hospital.

Max: That wasn't an ambulance, we drove you.

El: But I heard a siren.

Nancy: That was Robin.

Robin: Sorry, I got nervous.

[yourfavhoneybee]

too cute

surprised (n.w.)

a/n: wow, there are not a lot of tags for nancy! also, ngl, i am hoping you lovelies like this one bc i think i could have done a lot better so sorry if it's not the best!

tv show/movie: stranger things | pairing: nancy wheeler x fem!reader

requested by the lovely @echos-scomplink as part of my 900/1k follower celebration (thank you so much lovely!!) i hope you enjoy it💛!

synopsis: y/n's girlfriend and friends have been acting weird, she just can't figure out why

taglist:  @rottenstyx | @boxofsilentwords | @badass-yn | @Lexi-2004 | @i-always-come-back-xoxo | @rootbeerfaygo | @savagemickey03 | @spongebob-in-the-upsidedown | @eichenhouseproperty *line through your user means i could not tag you lovelies!

warnings: fluff | secrets being kept | anxiety

navigation | masterlist | taglist sign-up

  Her friends had been acting odd, which really wasn’t that surprising when she really thought about it since they were oddballs to start out. What really made her step back and be suspicious was her girlfriend starting to act odd. Nancy was usually very straight-forward, blunt, goal-oriented. She stressed the importance of communication in the relationship, was an open-book with her, and never-ever strayed far from her routine unless it involved two things: something very very dangerous and important or anything to do with her job as a journalist. 

  But, this wasn’t anything to do with her job as that’s usually breaking news coverage where a story breaks and she needs to start a deep dive of investigation (which earned her the name Nancy Drew with their friend group). But, Nancy isn’t running off to the archives, the library, or the office in the early hours of the morning and spending all day there right now so it couldn't be work. And, as far as Y/N knew, there wasn’t any type of Upside Down creature threatening the town right now so it couldn’t be that. 

  She was truly stumped and it was bugging her. Not because she was insecure in her relationship and thought Nancy was cheating. There would be definite signs of that. But because she didn’t know what was going on and she didn’t like that. Y/N is an incredibly perceptive person, a trait she often cursed especially in times like this where she overthinks everything. Because of her perceptiveness, she needed to know what was going on at all times and if she didn’t, she spiralled. 

  “Hey, what’s going on up there?” Y/N was pulled out of her thoughts by her friend, Robin. Robin stood in front of her as she sat at the cafe table - their mutually agreed upon meeting point. Y/N blinked, a little stunned by the sudden intrusion. 

  “Oh, um,” She hummed, gathering her purse as she stood up. “Nothing. Just thinking really.” Y/N shrugged it off. If there was something going on, her girlfriend was going through great lengths to hide it because it took Y/N this long to notice two months worth of odd behaviour. So, obviously, Nancy has either become incredibly lax in her secret keeping, or whatever it was, Nancy was getting ready to reveal it. 

  “I bet it’s about the new job you’re starting,” Robin theorised about what had her friend so distracted. “You’re nervous, a perfectly normal human reaction to this situation, but of course, it’s you so you’ve probably thought yourself into a tizzy meaning you were in the middle of an overthinking spiral.” She determined, talking a mile a minute as they started to walk towards a random location. 

  Y/N really wasn’t sure what Robin had planned for today, all she knew was that she had asked her to hang out for the day. Y/N had agreed, knowing that she and Robin were interested in the same things meaning whatever Robin had in mind, Y/N probably liked. “You know me so well,” Y/N shook her head. Technically, Robin did get the overthinking spiral part right. “And I thought Steve was joining us?” She asked, her brows furrowed at their missing friend. 

  Robin waved her off. “He suddenly had ‘plans’,” She put air quotes around the word ‘plans’ with an exaggerated eye roll. “Something about some party for some girl. You know how he is, any chance at getting a date.” 

  “I see.” Y/N hummed, narrowing her eyes at her best friend. While Robin might be an oddball, she was an oddball Y/N knew since freshman year. An oddball who knew Robin’s deepest, darkest secrets. An oddball who hid in isolation with her throughout high school in fear that someone would find out that they liked girls. So she knew Robin. Which means, she knows that she knows something she’s not telling her. 

  “But I am sure you will see him later, he’ll come running back to us with his tail between his legs when they all shoot him down.” Robin shrugged as Y/N followed her lead. 

  “I see.” Y/N hummed again, earning a look from Robin. The way her blue eyes flicked nervously confirmed it. Robin knew something that she was supposed to keep a secret - one of her biggest inabilities. It was only a matter of time before the secret came spilling from her friend’s chapped lips. 

  Robin cleared her throat, eyes darting to look in front of them before they widened. “You know what,” She asked suddenly, her hand shoving Y/N towards the building next to them. “I think we should go in here!” 

  “Robin, this is an event hall-” She was cut off by her friend, shoving her towards it again. “Ugh,” She groaned, stumbling away from Robin’s hands as they reached out to shove her again. “Fine, I am going! I am going!” She relented, walking up the concrete stairs to the hall, eying Robin suspiciously as she brushed past her to lead the way. 

  As her friend opened the door, she could hear the echoes of Nancy’s voice instructing people to keep quiet and warmth bloomed in her chest. A surprise. It wasn’t a secret per se, but a surprise. “Come, this way.” Robin waved to her to follow her. 

  Smiling to herself, Y/N decided to play along, not wanting her girlfriend or friends to know the surprise was spoiled. “What are we doing here, Robin? We didn’t book a room out.” She asked, sounding slightly stressed to try to sell the part. Silence filled the hall other than the soft creaks of the floorboards when the hidden friends shifted. 

  “I just wanna see something in this room-” Robin waved her off, walking into one of the event rooms, flicking on the lights. Once the light turned on, everyone jumped out, yelling “surprise”. Even though she was expecting it, Y/N jumped slightly, looking around the now lit room with all her friends and family there. 

  Nancy stood right in front of her, a cardboard party hat (that matched everyone else's) on her head and a wide smile on her face. A large banner was hung on the far wall spelling out a hand painted “congratulations” in Y/N’s favourite colour. “Congratulations on your big job! We’re so excited for you!” Nancy beamed, nearly tackling her girlfriend in a hug. 

  Instantly, Y/N wrapped her arms around her as well, stumbling back from the force of the hug as Robin clapped happily beside them - mostly proud of herself for keeping the secret and pulling off the plan. “You really didn’t have to do all of this, Nancy! This must have taken you months and a load of money!” She gushed, looking around the room in awe, taking in everything. All Y/N’s favourite party foods laid out perfectly, several different drinks (some homemade and some store bought) on another table, each decoration handmade or picked out with the keen eye of her girlfriend. 

  “Nonsense! This is a big deal, Y/N. You deserve to be fussed over,” Nancy playfully scolded her. Y/N nodded, knowing it appeared playful, but Nancy meant it. She had made it her personal mission when they first started going out to make sure Y/N knew that she deserved the whole world and nothing short of it. She was the reason Y/N even applied for this job - without Nancy she probably would have just passed on the opportunity with a shrug and a muttered “like I’d ever get that job”.  “And I made it a surprise party! Were you surprised? You looked it! I actually think I got you this time!” 

  Y/N smiled sweetly, nodding. “I was definitely not expecting this, I love it.” She confirmed her surprise, pulling Nancy in to her by their conjoined hands, pressing a sweet kiss on her lips, earning another round of celebrating cheers from their friends and family. 

  “Good,” Nancy smiled at her once they pulled away, eyes alight and dancing with joyfulness and pure love. “Gives me more practice when I surprise you with a ring.” She winked, her finger softly playing with Y/N’s left ring finger causing a trail of goosebumps to travel up her arm. It was decided (informally) that Nancy would be the one to ask Y/N to marry her at some point in their relationship and both of them just ran with it. 

  “I can’t wait to be surprised again.” Y/N whispered back. Not to hide their love, but because her heart was so light and happy that she was scared to ruin this elated feeling by talking any louder.

[midsummer-semantics]

wiggly wednesday 🪱

Okay sure, this sounds fun. I was tagged by @medusapelagia to share a brainworm/headcanon, and I've been trying to get one to develop more fully so here we go.

Today, I'm thinking about...

Steve and Eddie going through some of Eddie's old things as they pack up to move into their own place. Nancy and Robin are there to help even though that mostly consists of Robin picking through already-packed boxes because she keeps getting distracted by all of the things she finds.

Steve finds what looks to be a really old photo album, the sticky pages holding the photos down yellow with age.

"Oh, shit," Eddie says, taking it from him to flip through. "I haven't seen this in ages. I was sure it was lost when all the shit went down."

"Oh my god, please tell me there's embarrassing baby pictures of you in there," Robin grins, trying to snatch it away.

Eddie holds it out of reach, nearly throwing it as Robin tries to tackle him for it.

"Jesus Christ! I'll show you, just keep your insane paws to yourself!" Eddie gripes.

Steve scoots in closer while Robin and Nancy crowd in on his other side, all wanting a closer look.

There's not many pictures in it and most are grainy and out of focus, black and white and hard to distinguish. But there's a few of a baby with an unmistakeable crop of riotous curls.

"Holy shit, you were so cute," Steve coos, running a finger along the 2D cheek of one photo.

"Excuse you, Harrington, but I'm still cute," Eddie snarks, flipping to the next page.

There's one photo of a young man holding baby Eddie, dark curls so similar to his own atop his head. The photo looks to have been torn down the middle, the right side pressed right against baby Eddie's back, like whoever was on the other side was better left out of the picture long term.

"Huh," Steve hums. "It never occurred to me that I had no idea what your dad looks like."

"And for good reason, babe," Eddie says, fighting not to rip the photo out and burn it. "Thankfully all I got from him was his hair and penchant for hot wiring. Everything else I got from my mom I guess."

"You guess?" Nancy asks.

Eddie nods. "She died when I was a baby and the old man kind of went off the rails after. I suspect this—" he runs a finger along the jagged edge of the photo in the book, "is his handy work."

"That's a shame," Steve says softly. He lifts the plastic covering the photo and peels it off the sticky backing, holding it up to his face to get a closer look — his eye sight is pretty back after so many concussions after all.

"Ya know, if his hair was a little longer, like mullet style, he'd almost look like a dark-haired Billy Hargrove," Steve points out.

Robin snatches the photo out of his hand, holding it out stretched like she can see it better that way instead. "Oh, shit. You're right. That's so weird."

Eddie snatches it back, top lip curled in disgust. "I don't want to speak ill of the dead, but how fucking dare you in any way compare my gorgeous existence to that guy."

Steve snickers and presses a kiss to Eddie's cheek. "I'm sorry, babe. You're right."

The photo gets tucked back into its place and they keep flipping through the book. There's more of Eddie as an infant, a few more of his dad, even a couple of a young Wayne in his military uniform holding a toddler Eddie by his arms as he jumps up, legs gangly and wild. Any photo that might have contained Eddie's mom is ripped, none of them cleanly, and there's only the occasional hand or blur of dark hair. Even still, it does stop happening once Eddie's about six months old.

"Wow. So you really don't know what your mom looks like?" Nancy asks finally as they're setting the photo album in a box.

"Oh no I do," Eddie says. "I have one singular picture of her from right after I was born. Wayne saved it for me."

"Oooooo can we see?" Robin pipes in. Eddie shrugs, getting up to dig through a shoebox that Steve's seen before but somehow managed to avoid snooping through — not that he didn't think about it all the time for the last year they've been together.

He comes back with a photo, plopping back into his spot while his friends and boyfriend crowd around him once more.

It's dead silent for several minutes, all of them staring at the picture. Eddie always figured his uncle was on to something when he said Eddie looked more like his mom, but now that he's about her age when this photo was taken, he thinks he can really see it.

On his left, Steve is trying to process exactly what he's looking at. Sure, the woman in the photo looks like she has the same dark hair that Eddie does, though it's a lot less curly, but aside from the hair and the tired look on her face, she could be a dead ringer for —

"Either Mrs. Wheeler has a doppleganger, or a secret twin we don't know about," he says.

He glances at Robin for a second before looking at Eddie and Nancy. They're heads are bowed over the photo, wearing matching expressions of wide-eyed shock.

Wait.

Matching.

Oh shit.

"Eddie," Robin says carefully. "What's your mom's name?"

His jaw opens and closes a few times before he croaks out, "Elizabeth, but Wayne said she only ever went by—"

"Her middle name?" Nancy asks, the fear of knowing the answer obvious in the wobble of her voice.

Eddie flips the photo over to look at the names and date written on the back. He's looked at it a million times, tracing her loopy handwriting so much over the years that it's slightly smudged, but still legible.

Karen Elizabeth Harvey + Edward Wayne Munson, November 1965

"Oh shit."

——————————————

no-pressure tags if anyone also wants to share a brainworm: @tedewitt @hornedqueenofhell @malikat24601 @spectrum-spectre

[harrington-love]

Happy Friday Stancy is endgame everyone say amen

[straight4joekeery]

Nancy: And then they ran into my knife. They ran into my knife ten times.

Steve: You mean you stabbed them?

Nancy: They ran into my knife.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin: I’ve never asked someone out. How do you even do it?

Steve: Oh, what I do is, I look them up and down and I say: “Hey… how you doin’?”

Eddie, scoffing: Oh, please.

Steve, to Eddie: Hey, how you doin’?

Eddie:

Eddie: *giggles and blushes*

~~~~~~~~~~~

*The squad™️ when they drop food on the floor*

Nancy: Aw man. *Throws it away*

Robin: Five second rule!

Eddie: Foolish germs, thinking they can stop me!? *Eats it off the floor*

Steve: *Sobs on the floor*

~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: What happened to Nancy?

Steve: She died.

Eddie: She what?

Steve: She died, but she’s okay.

Eddie: …Can you please clarify?

Nancy: Clarification is for the weak.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin: You just saved me? Why?!

Eddie: People would think I murdered you if I didn't.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve: We call that a traumatic experience.

Steve, turning to Robin: Not a "bruh moment".

Steve, turning to Eddie: And DEFINITELY not an "oof LMAO".

~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin: So... what’s goin’ on?

Steve: You want the long version or the short version?

Robin, hesitantly: The short one, I guess?

Steve: Shit’s fucked.

Robin: Oh. Well, yeah, that’s definitely not an optimal situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~

*Robin and Nancy are in a car teetering on the edge of a cliff*

Robin: oh my god, Nancy, backwards!

Nancy: Really, Robin? I thought I might go forwards into the river, I thought that would be a fun thing to do.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin: I’m the sexiest bitch in this therapy waiting room.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Nancy: I don't want to fight you!

Eddie: I wouldn't want you to fight me either!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie: My assistance will be an act of beneviolence.

Nancy: ...Don’t you mean benevolence?

Eddie: No.

[kanescrown]

do stancy shippers even like nancy? genuine question 💀

[eddies-artofsuffering]

Part I: Sweet Tooth

(Part II)

Eddie stares down at his wristwatch. One minute to noon. Just one more minute.

“Want us to clear the path?” Argyle claps him on his shoulder and squeezes. “It’s almost time.”

“I don’t – I don’t know. Maybe you guys could stand behind the kitchen doors? You can see through the windows, right?” Eddie scrunches his nose.

He can feel it, he’s been conditioned to it by now, the familiar pit of anticipation. Other people may call it butterflies. Eddie thinks it’s more like pterodactyls breathing fire inside his stomach. He desperately needs someone to hold his fucking hand during this hardship.

But he also really, really doesn’t want anyone up close to witness him making a fool of himself in front of Hot Steve - a new regular customer at their cafe. An incredibly attractive guy who works at the bookstore next door.

Eddie can NOT fuck this up. It only happens once a day, for a maximum of three minutes.

“Maybe today’s the day you ask him out,” Jonathan smiles. Dude never smiles with his eyes. It’s kind of unsettling.

“Absolutely not, have you seen Hot Steve?” Eddie groans. “There’s no way he plays for my team. He’s –“

The doorbell chimes. Eddie’s head snaps towards the entrance, mouth falling open. Hot Steve is walking towards him, holy shit. It’s go time. Eddie shoos his coworkers away with a frantic wave, straightens his name tag, and rests his chin on his palm and bends over a little, elbow on the counter.

This is always the way he greets Hot Steve. It’s his signature move. Although, it hasn’t really worked yet. If it worked, Eddie would’ve won Hot Steve’s attention by now. But this is the best he got at the moment, damn it.

“Hi, Eds, how are you doing?” Hot Steve is wearing a baby-blue button-down today, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His name tag pin on the left side of his chest glints.

Eddie loves that Steve came up with that nickname on his own, despite only having seen him here at Cafe Byers for, like, two weeks now.

“Better now that you’re here.” Eddie gives him a cheeky smile, If Argyle and Jonathan were here, they might’ve been impressed with how smooth it sounded; they always comment on the way he flirts, the things he says. If you ever said shit like that to me, I’d be hella blushing, brochacho. You know you got game, right?

What they don’t know is that these lines are rehearsed in his head, so many times. It’s all Eddie ever does: practice pickup lines for Hot Steve.

“Right out of the gate, huh? You're makin' me blush,” Hot Steve smiles, and honestly, it’s hard to tell if he’s blushing at all. Or if he’s even flustered. Hot Steve's always so confident. “I’ll get a latte. With oat milk, please?”

“Oh?” Oat milk? That’s new. Steve didn’t care last time what milk he was getting. Interesting. Or is it? Eddie decides to file that information away for later. “Yea, coming right up.”

“Thanks.”

Another thing about Hot Steve that really does something to Eddie’s overworked pterodactyls, is that he never has a phone with him. Or on him. If it is, it's never visible.

Which is odd, because the entire café is littered with folks who cannot tear their eyes away from their little gadgets and devices, especially their phones; most people can’t even wait for their drinks without looking at them, checking something constantly, emails or texts or whatever. 

And, well, Hot Steve never does any of that. He always waits at the end of the counter, patiently watching Eddie making drinks. It always makes him feel so self-conscious. Eddie’s burnt his hands under hot steam a couple of times, actually.

But these two, maybe three minutes of Eddie making a fresh beverage for Hot Steve – this is the only time he gets to make small talk with him. Each time, he learns something new about him, or confirms something that Eddie’s already inferred. The grand question of the day is: “So, who’s the drink for?”

Hot Steve blinks rapidly, as if coming out of a daze. “Uh – what?”

“Whose drink is this?” Eddie says, tamping the coffee grounds. “I’m assuming it’s not yours.”

“How… did you know it’s not mine?” he narrows his eyes.

God. It’s really telling, isn’t it, that Eddie’s noticed these things? “First time for you to ask for oat milk, so. I don’t know, I figured,” he shrugs.

Hot Steve opens his mouth as if to say something. Then he doesn’t. In the corner of Eddie’s eyes, he sees him nodding with pursed lips, with a hint of a smirk. It’s so distracting that Eddie almost heats up regular milk despite this whole conversation being around someone’s (not Steve’s, apparently) preference for plant-based milk. Oops.

He finishes making the latte and walks over to the cash register, handing over the drink. Steve receives it with a small thanks. 

But Eddie knows Steve's not quite done here today. Because, when you have a tiny (massive) crush on a near-stranger, you just, kind of look for patterns. That’s just how human minds work; Eddie has been carefully collecting all the little information about Hot Steve, just based on the few minutes that he spends at the café at noon.

Which is how that Eddie’s almost certain (almost, because there’s always room for anomalies) what Hot Steve’s about to do when he asks, “Is that it for today?”

“Oh – um,” Hot Steve scans the glass case of assorted desserts and baked goods, subconsciously wetting his lips. “Actually, yea. Can I have the blueberry crumble, please?”

This is one of the very few predictable things about him. Eddie doesn’t know why Hot Steve even looks at the shelves of sweets each time as if he’s ever going to make a different choice, because it’s always the same, the only constant pattern besides his entrance that he’s ever shown Eddie: the house blueberry crumble, the ones that Eddie bakes himself.

And every time Hot Steve asks for it, Eddie has to turn around and flex his arms, letting out a silent scream of victory, because Hot Steve is fucking hooked on those things. It’s truly incredible to know that he wants it. Eddie pours his heart and soul into those.

“Of course, babe,” he swoops down, takes a small square piece out with tongs, wraps it in a pocket of parchment paper. “D’you know I bake these every morning?”

“You – it’s you?” Hot Steve’s eyes widen comically. “Wow. I thought they were, like, shipped over from a bakery or something.”

“We do have an oven,” Eddie points behind the kitchen with his thumb and looks back, makes a mistake of drawing attention to the door, only remembering then that Argyle and Jonathan are probably watching this whole thing. Really hoping that they’re being discreet. 

“That’s amazing. I – I love them,” he says, not at all looking behind, thank God. “Guess you’re good with your hands.”

Eddie could practically hear the angelic chorus from the sky. Holy shit. Hot Steve loves his crumbles. Fuck. He could cry. 

But, you know. Everything always comes to an end, and that’s usually how far their conversation goes. Nothing more than just small talk, and then Hot Steve would pay for the stuff, go back to the next-door bookstore where he works. And until the next day, it’s as if he doesn’t even exist. A mythical creature that only appears during those three minutes in time and space, then vanishes afterwards. 

So he tries, just one last time before he leaves. “Steve?”

“Yea?” Hot Steve looks up, batting his lashes. They’re – so – pretty. So long, delicate. Such a fucking contrast to his muscular arms and chest that his thin blue shirt does nothing to hide, sleeves and buttons ready to pop. It’s sinful.

Fuck, and time’s ticking, yet there are so many things Eddie wants to ask. What is your drink, then? ‘Cause you never get the same drink twice.

Why is it always at noon? Is that your break?

Where are you from? When does your shift end? You do work at the bookstore, right?

When are you free?

All of these are more or less reasonable, if not a tiny bit creepy questions. But any of these would’ve been so much better than what Eddie actually blurts out, so out of the left field that he surprises even himself: “So, uh, how much do you bench?”

Oh, fuck. Where the hell did that come from? Eddie cringes hard inside, unsure how those words, that kind of vernacular even came out of his mouth, please, he wants to rewind time - 

But it's spilled oat milk. Guh. He crinkles his nose to prepare himself to apologize. Sorry. That was so – I’m not a gym bro. I’m not! Look at me! He's about to say, but:

“You wanna know?”

Hot Steve has a shit-eating grin on. That’s a first. There might even be a faint blush on his cheeks. Holy shit. Hot Steve took the fucking bait. Not that it was bait – it was just Eddie being a fucking disaster – but he nods all the same, stupidly. Of course he wants to know. He’s committed, now.

“Let’s see.” Hot Steve’s now circling around the counter to take a closer look at Eddie, eyes travelling up and down. It feels like Hot Steve is undressing him with his eyes. It’s kind of insane that they’re doing this in public.

Hmm. 140, 145 at the most – Hot Steve mutters under his breath. “Oh yea. Easy,” he says, still smiling wickedly.

“What do you mean, easy?” Eddie croaks.

His breath hitches when Hot Steve leans over the counter, inches away from Eddie’s face. “Probably could do twenty reps of you,” he whispers, winking.

Eddie’s brain short-circuits. He stares open-mouthed at Hot Steve, unable to move until he exits the café with the drink and a brown bag, fading away from view. Gone for the rest of the day, rest of the evening. Rest of the next morning. Only to return the next day at noon, like a fucking reverse-Cinderella.

“Why were you guys whispering?” Jonathan appears from behind, nudging him on the arm. “What did he say? Did you finally ask him out?”

“I’m about to ask him out myself if you don’t,” Argyle says lazily, earning a sharp smack from Jonathan. “Just joking, man, you know you’re my main dude,” he squeezes a squirming Jonathan on the side.

“He… “ Eddie gulps, closing his eyes, and pictures Hot Steve’s tantalizing smile. “He winked.”

Continue reading on Ao3

Read the sequel: Savour

[harringroveera]

“We got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington!”

“Yeah, eat it, Harrington.”

Steve pushed his sunglasses over his head, staring at the guy in front of him, with golden curls under the dim light of the room, beers dripping down his bare chest and stomach, making his skin glisten.

Billy Hargrove was his name, and he only knew it because he’d overheard it from Tina and Vickie when they were talking about his ass.

Blue eyes looked back at him, and Steve swallowed, tipping his chin up to exert confidence.

“Is that so?”

“Unless you wanna go against him,” Tommy quipped, egging him on further.

“So this is the King Steve everyone’s been talking so much about,” Hargrove said, taking a step forward. “I expected someone better looking at least.”

He widened his eyes, his lips parting in pure shock as Hargrove smirked at him, like the cocky asshole he was.

“And who is this?” His eyes darted away to Steve’s right side, his eyebrows raising in curiosity. “Why the long face?”

Before Steve could register what was going on—he could barely even react—Hargrove crossed the little space in the room, grabbing Nancy by the face, and he kissed her.

Steve’s stomach dropped at the sight, of Nancy clutching at Hargrove’s jacket, her nails digging into the leather. She didn’t push back, and Hargrove didn’t pull away.

And there Steve was, standing frozen on the spot like a stupid statue, watching some new guy kiss his girlfriend. Like an idiot.

The moment they broke away from each other, Steve finally found his voice to speak up about whatever had just happened.

“That’s my fucking girlfriend,” he murmured. “What the fuck, Hargrove?”

“Oh, shit,” Hargrove said, turning to him with the corner of his lips turning up. “Sorry, man, guess I gotta make it even now.”

He flattened his hand on Steve’s chest, shoving him against the wooden surface, before he kissed him.

To say he was surprised would be an understatement, and to say he didn’t enjoy it would be a complete lie.

Hargrove’s lips were soft against his, and wet, tasting of beer and smoke. Their mouths slotted together, and Steve found himself moving on his own, returning the kiss with the same passion Hargrove put into it.

No wonder Nancy didn’t push him away, because Hargrove kissed like a god, like he wanted to drink down the sound Steve made and consume him whole. It felt almost too forbidden for him to want more of it.

He splayed his hands on Hargrove’s sternum, feeling his damp and warm skin underneath his fingers, gliding them up to the curls of his hair and tugging at them, dragging out a low groan from the other guy.

The music was still blasting in the house, and he could hear the faint sound of surprise from some people around him, but he truly could care less. All he wanted was to kiss Hargrove.

“Don’t you dare,” Steve whispered against his lips when Hargrove pulled away, attempting to break off the kiss.

“Just taking a breath, Harrington. Don’t intend on stopping any time now.”

The smirk was sly, almost predatory, and Steve claimed his lips in another kiss. Deeper this time, with tongue, and he could taste Hargrove more clearly, feel his body flushing against him more warmly.

Hargrove’s hands were sliding down his sides, pulling at the belt of his jeans to haul him closer. The kiss was fervent and hot, stirring something in the pit of his stomach, and Steve did nothing but keep Hargrove close to him.

He didn’t want to let him go, or to end what was going on, which surprised him, to put it mildly.

Well, until something shattered loudly, and Steve finally yanked himself away from Hargrove’s incredibly tempting lips.

It was just some guy, apparently, who broke a precious vase in Tina’s kitchen, now listening to her scolding while he wiped his hands on the white cloth he was wearing, burping out a drunken sound instead of apologizing.

He looked back at Hargrove, at the pair of blue eyes that were fixed on him, at his swollen lips, and he was very aware of how Hargrove’s hands were still on his waist.

Of course, once he reeled back into reality, he remembered what had happened, and who was here.

He turned to look at Nancy, who was staring directly at them with her mouth slack and her eyes widening. The look of betrayal painted her face.

“Nance,” he uttered. “Nancy, wait, I can explain. I didn’t—”

“You know what?” Nancy held her hands up in the air, shutting him up instantly. “Have him, Hargrove.”

“What?”

“Yeah, take him, whatever. I don’t care. You look better together anyway.”

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Hargrove said. “You’re giving me your boyfriend?”

“Why not? Seems like you two get along well, especially with that kiss,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “And I will go get drunk. Have fun.”

When she turned on her heels and walked away, Steve looked back at Hargrove with a scoff.

“Did she just break up with me?”

“You did kiss me, Harrington.”

“You kissed her first! And she liked it!”

“What? Are you saying you didn’t?”

His words faltered in his mind, and he gulped. “I…did not say that.”

“Good, I was hoping for that answer,” Hargrove said, cocking his head to the side. “Wanna go to the bathroom and finish what we were doing?”

“What? Now?”

“Unless you don’t want to.”

Hargrove withdrew his hands from his waist, and Steve frowned. He looked around the room, and no one was paying attention to them at all. Even Nancy was standing in the kitchen, chugging down the alcohol while Byers talked to her.

His heart drummed in his chest, and Hargrove was still waiting for him, patiently, with that damned smirk on his face, like he already knew what Steve was going to do.

He groaned, grabbing Hargrove by the wrist. “Fuck it, let’s go.”

[ronanceluvrr]

That's it, that's the post.

[vesselforsatin]

Eddie thinks that Nancy and Steve are getting back together. He sees their heads pressed together and laughing while smiling at each other. Wayne comes home to find Eddie laying on the floor and blasting “Jolene” on repeat. He goes about his business while his nephew sings the lyrics into the rug in between mumbled curses at the concept of love.

Turns out Steve and Nancy are not getting back together. They were actually bonding how hot they think Sigourney Weaver is and giggling about how she reminds them of their respective crushes. Eddie finds this out after Wayne calls Nancy to come talk some sense into him after the fourteenth repeat of “I Will Always Love You.”

[a-strangers-thoughtss]

Can I just say how much I love Jancy?

Like they’re actually so fucking adorable wtf

The way they just complement each other so well is like really cool. I mean Nancy is definitely more intense than Jonathan and knows what she wants and goes for it. Jonathan just wants to take pictures and be supportive and chill.

Ngl they remind me a lot of my parents. Like they fight a lot and stuff and come from extremely different backgrounds (poorer and more well off) but it just plays off each other so well.

I mean just the fact that Nancy wants to be a reporter and Jonathan wants to be a photographer? Complementing each other so well.

The monologue they both have in season 4 telling other people why they love each other is also so perfect. It shows how unconditional it is.

I also love that the Wheelers have the Byers wrapped around their little fingers and vise versa.

The wheelers need someone they can protect and get emotional support from (bc they suck at emotions) and the Byers need someone to support and get them out of their comfort zones.

Also these siblings love each other so much sooo In conclusion?

Jancy/Byer supremacy

[swanqueenelmaxshadowhunters]

Max and Robin: we have a plan

El: no murder

Nancy: no arson

Max and Robin sighing in defeat: we're back to square one