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frevksboy
cleverterry
momwheeler
myownhxro
byersxbrother
rifleaimed
flcshinglights
marthajefferson
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My Tumblr Crushes:
archivedÂ
frevksboy
cleverterry
momwheeler
myownhxro
byersxbrother
rifleaimed
flcshinglights
marthajefferson

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*a wild @flcshinglights has suddenly appeared!
me:
a dramatic starter for @flcshinglights and @snapshotbyers
After he managed the climb to her window, Steve flicked his brown eyes through the glass. The sight of his girlfriend with the creepy photographer sitting on her bed together stopped him cold. Their faces were turned away, UNSEEING of their audience, and his gaze only lingered. Thoughts of disbelief and spite yearned to spill and threatened to overwhelm him the longer he stayed put and watched them. He had come all this way out here because he was honest to God worried about Nancy. He knew she had been acting weird, he knew there was something she wasnât telling him, but who would have thought the reason for her shutting him out would be the psycho who stalked him and his friends that night of the party, the same pervert who snapped a picture of her topless? Shit. Shit. This was all so fucked up. Steve never imagined Nancy would DO this to him. He thought she was different.
Turning away with disgust, he began to descend into the shadows with a dark expression, until one misstep, one slip up, and he lost his footing. â --- Shit! â The expletive slipped out into the night.
@flcshinglights , for el and luke bc adoption papers still need to be filled out
        Leaves crumbled under the unsteady footsteps of a man fallen from grace. His wandering solely accompanied by soft noises one would only find in a forest and the blinding terror that kept behind his heels, glued to his every movement with no chance of oblivion. Weariness clawed at his mind, mixed itself with pain but the mere idea of what lay behind them kept him going. Further and further away, his determination seemed strong enough for him to be able to walk until his soleâs would bleed. But there was already blood running down his features, the crimson liquid staining his body, wandering over countless bruises and then it faded away from sight, hidden behind the body of a small child. Innocent and PURE        the girl he held in his arms had deserved so much better, yet was forced to endure a never-ending torture. Their escape was necessary.
        A groan fell from his lips, his body treacherous as it grew slower and slower, weakened from injuries old and new before he fully came to a halt. Hazel eyes, wide open with the desire to protect the girl in his arms, searched for something, anything that could help until they landed on a makeshift shelter. Tiny, too small for him but perfect for a child, stood the wooden house not too far away from them. RELIEF filled his lungs before it was all pressed out, its intensity chipping away on the burden Luke carried on his shoulders, giving just enough strength back to his limbs to carry on.
        Yellow and red painted letters adorned the front, a bedsheet posed as door and although he felt a foolish sense of intruding someoneâs privacy, he couldnât help but fall on his knees and crawl inside. Their safety was more important, HER well-being was his top priority and during their escape, this was the next best thing to a hiding spot he could find with his sore muscles barely allowing him to move. At least it also ensured him that civilisation was close. â Come on, Honey. â His voice raspy, the words unused and yet his tone was barely above a whisper when gentle hands nudged the child in his arms. As expected the â fort â was tiny, his long legs barely able to arrange themselves comfortably but it held coating and a mattress and therefore was more than he couldâve hoped for. Clever fingers dragged one of the blankets over narrow shoulders, covered frail arms but let the girl decide where to stay. He himself wasnât cold, hadnât been able to get cold for as long as he was with them and instead steadily spread a familiar heat that wasnât his own. â I think we can rest here for a bit.         Just a short break before we get moving again. â
@flcshinglights replied to you post:Â âI was tagged by...â
dARYL DIXON AND CAROL PELETIER

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@flcshinglights || continued
Eyes are on her, with the truth behind his words. Heâs not going to falter this time, because he wants the meaning to come through. And heâs just being bias, because him and Steve and the others havenât always gotten along. But for her, he means it. Heâd never understood why sheâd hung out with them all - other than to be Ms. Popular for dating Steve Harrington. But what was so good about that.Â
Their eyes meet briefly, and then Nancyâ leading them down to his busted knuckles, Jonathanâs gaze following. A soft shrug and a gentle shake of the head. The fight hadnât just been for her - there was his family name to protect - but he wasnât going to say that. âI-itâs fine... itâs not... itâs not the first time.â He didnât really mind. Scrapes and bruises were nothing. And heâd always gotten into fights before. The only worry thing was the whole arrest, and his momâs reaction.Â
@flcshinglights replied to your post:Â âi bought you that camera - i should be...â
shut up - i'm your mother i can do what i want
well, Iâll just hide it from you then (seriously. these are bad photos. stop taking them)
@flcshinglights || continued
âThings changed? What changed?â This canât be real right now. He doesnât know, nor does he care what was said in order to make his mom go back to him, to let him come back into their house, and let him act like everything was fine and dandy.Â
And even though he knows what his father is like - oh, he knows, after spending 17 years knowing the guy - and that he knows how manipulative and arrogant the damn bastard could be, Jonathan didnât care. Because this wasnât supposed to happen. It was supposed to have been over, back when he left. It was supposed to be for good. And then he was around for Willâs disappearance - and even after his mom had told the man off in the end, here he was back again for more, months later, âtrying to make things rightâ or whatever. It wasnât okay. It would never be okay. Jonathanâs voice only continues to echo as he questions all of his momâs decisions. âWhat you had to?â a head shaken in disbelief. âNo, mom- youâre giving up and letting him get to you. Again.â