arizonaconservativegal:

celticpyro:

daaamnafrica:

Sometimes I just ignore anon hate because theres a proverb I learnt in a Nigerian movie that said.
‘You cannot run naked after a mad man in the street after he has taken your clothes away from you because the public will not know who is the mad person between the two of you’

I feel like this proverb was based on firsthand experience.

That is weirdly specific but also a pretty good point

writerwhowritesao3:

To add onto this post….

When Billy is recovering after Starcourt, Steve has an epiphany after weeks of watching the various hospital staff take care of his boyfriend’s medical needs and helping him heal: 

He wants to be a nurse. 

So he buckles down. Takes classes at community college, transfers after one year to a four-year college, and graduates with a Bachelor of Science in Nursing. 

During his first year working at a hospital, Steve finds that he thrives in the ER. Not surprising, given the Take Charge attitude he always had when faced with Upside Down bullshit. 

By the time he’s in his 40s, Steve is a highly respected veteran trauma nurse practitioner and basically runs the Emergency Department in the hospital he works in. 

He loves his job. And he wishes he could go back in time to reassure his teenaged self that he does not peak in high school.

:

Billy (after being possessed by the mindflayer and going through hell): you know what? Fuck this. I deserve nice things.

(Heaves Steve, a nice thing, over his shoulder)


Billy: I’m taking this as emotional compensation.

inthelonelycoolbeforedawn:

Max asks Steve to come up with her one day to visit Billy at the hospital shortly after Starcourt, because her and El are the only ones who’ve been there so far. Steve agrees because it’s Max asking, and yeah, Billy’s an asshole but he did almost die fighting off the Flayer to save El and the rest of them so Steve figures he can at least say thanks or something.

But Steve’s face is still all bruised from the Russians, and when Billy sees him he gets really upset and starts crying and telling both of them I’m sorry, get away from me, I’m dangerous, I hurt you, I hurt you.

They’re all really upset, but Max and Steve finally figure out Billy thinks he beat Steve up again. So Max is like, no, you didn’t. It wasn’t you, Billy, it wasn’t you.

He won’t believe it until Steve tells him, though. Swears to him that you didn’t do this, man. Not this time. It was Russians, under the mall. It wasn’t you.

And Billy knows he’s a shitty person who’s done shitty things. He knows Heather and everyone else who died because of him are still dead. But knowing he didn’t do that - didn’t hurt Steve again, didn’t do the one thing he promised himself he’d never do again - helps just a little.

Just enough that he’s able to relax a bit and actually enjoy the rest of their visit (which is mostly Max chattering about Lucas and whatever ‘normal’ dumb lighthearted gossip she can think of). Just enough that he means it when Max and Steve are ready to leave and he says, quietly, thanks for stopping in.

And Steve, much to his own surprise, means it when he says he’ll stop by again.

strangerthings4theories:

image

“I’ve had so many knives stuck into me, when they hand me a flower I can’t quite make out what it is. It takes time.”

Charles Bukowski

metalheadcowboy:

Steve wants someone to feel for him the way he feels about the stars.

He wants someone to look at him and think he’s the most beautiful thing in the universe. He wants someone to look up at him and notice him amongst the millions of others in the crowd. He wants someone to look at him and admire him not just for the brightness of his exterior, but for the hardships that he went to, to get to this point.

And it isn’t until he meets Billy is it that he becomes not just any star, but the sun. The center of this beautiful boys universe. the most important star.

rascheln:

The first time Steve says ‘I love you’, he looks so scared and nervous. And Billy can’t handle it, can’t look at his big, earnest eyes and the desperate, painful tenderness that well up in him.
So he calls Steve a piece of shit.
He watches Steve’s face crumble and close off.

Sees a flush rise to Steve’s cheeks and the tips of his ears- shame and hurt mixed into his body turning away from Billy. Trying so hard to play it off.
Billy’s heart sinks into the bottom of his stomach. His hands move on their own to grab Steve. Keep him from turning away.

“No,” he says and his voice breaks on that one word as he pulls Steve forward. Hides his face in Steve’s hair, in familiar softness and wildflower scent.
“Shit, Stevie. I- holy shit.” He presses a kiss to the crown of Steve’s head. Feels him shake and claw at his chest.

He can’t let go. Can’t take back his words. But he can’t push Steve away, either. Not anymore.
For maybe the first time in a long time he says sorry and he means it. Carves the words out of his chest, because they won’t come out otherwise. And says “I love you, too.”

colubrina:

for the love of god, write all the self-indulgent scenes you want.  be utterly  shameless about including every last fantasy.  i know everyone likes to share quotes and quips about how miserably hard writing is, but please please try thinking of it as joyful act where you get to be a messy human who makes art rather than some pain filled quest for icy perfection.

Billy often has neil grab his throat or close to it. Billy now goes into a shutdown whenever someone’s hands get to close to his throat


Redemption is Underrated

neils got rough hands.

they’re callused and scuffed and have years of use behind them that make them so tough.

the feeling of his hands, his fingers, the tips of his nails on billy’s throat is permanently scratched into his brain.

hates the split second when he can see neils hand coming up to grab at his throat.

he hates the delicate touch of neil moving the angle of his head.

he hates the way neils hands yank at the little tender hairs at the back of his neck.

hates how the last moment he had with his dad before he got out of that house was neil sitting on him, strangling him, putting more and more force on his neck.

after living with the byers for so long, billy eventually needs a haircut. he trims around the front, cuts off the scraggly pieces, but it’s hard to trim the back of your head.

joyce offered to help, the kind lady she was, and carded her delicate fingers through billy’s hair, trimming it but not cutting too short. however, she was running late for work.

hopper was happy to take her place.

and, let’s get one thing straight, billy loves hopper. he’s like the dad that neil was supposed to be and he understands billy in a way no adult has ever bothered to.

billy’s had many breakdowns with hopper, no matter how embarrassed he was after, and just enjoyed the warm, kind teddy bear that was hopper.

so he didn’t mind hopper trimming his hair.

joked around about how he was going to shave a little bit of hair off just to bug billy. if it were anyone else, billy would have gotten upset, but with hopper he laughed.

when hopper was almost done, he was carding his hands through billy’s hair, much like joyce had done.

but his fingers, his calloused, worn fingers, brushed billy’s neck.

billy took a sharp inhale and his eyes went from staring at his reflection to picking a point on the counter and not moving. his back was straight and billy’s eyes burned with tears.

hopper, noticing the change in billy’s demeanor immediately, pulled back and stood away, coming into billy’s periphery so that there were no surprises.

hopper sat on the floor and crossed his legs, placing his hands on his knees as to show that there were no surprise attacks coming.

it took a few minutes, but billy finally moved. he looked over to stare directly at hopper, who was waiting patiently for billy to overcome whatever fight was brewing inside his head.

billy let a tear fall the second he made eye contact with hopper, murmuring out a heartbreaking “i’m sorry” before hopper got up slowly and cautiously enveloped billy with a hug.

“nothing you did, kid,” hopper could feel billy’s tears wetting his shirt, “nothing you did,”


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