
formerly whatsaweasley0made of sugar n spite n everything nicewriter âą she/her âą 24it, stranger things, harry potter fic
548 posts
Sunshine
sunshine




Joe Keery leaving LAX (1.27.17)
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More Posts from Su8arandspite
Thank you so much! It means a lot :)) i added a few more tags btw, thanks for the advice!
Second Choice : Steve Harrington
summary: steve and the reader are lost in their own little world, but find it shattered by one stupid remark and steve might just watch the girl he loves walk off forever- again. or, alternatively, the one in which steve slips up and breaks the readerâs heart with just one word: nancy.
warnings: angst, cursing (if that counts?), Stranger Things 2 spoilers (like barely)
a/n: so this is my first attempt at writing on tumblr, and it was originally an extension to a fanfic iâve given up on, so itâs been adapted to fit this format, and i might expand it to have a part 2. feedback is very much appreciated! canât wait to hear what you have to say about this one!
[ | | | ]
Standing in the center of the living room, dancing dumbly to her favorite Journey records, [Y/N] looked like a sight for sore eyes. Her makeup had smudged in odd places and tufts of hair clung to her clammy skin. Steve watched her from the doorway with a fond smile spread across his lips. To him, she looked like a vision of beauty.
As soon as she caught sight of her boyfriend, [Y/N] reached out a canary-yellow fingernail at him and signaled for him to come closer.
The pair danced clumsily like that, her fingers buried in his hair and his hands gripping onto her swaying hips, until the music faded out with the final stroke of a guitar on the record player.
It wasnât long after that the pair found themselves tangled up in Steveâs bed sheets. [Y/N] sat on his lap with their limbs in a tangled mess and their lips locked in a messy, hungry kiss. She pulled harshly on a chunk of his hair when heâd said it.
âNancy,â he said, his eyes screwed shut. Just like that, [Y/N]âs cherry lips ripped away from him and the bed shifted as she scurried away. Steve, having realized his mistake, sat up and prepared to pull her back to him. He cooed at her and let a string of apologies fall from his lips. The way she recoiled from his touch sent an all-too-familiar pang to his heart. It was enough to alert him that this wasnât just some silly spat that they would work out with a good kiss; heâd really hurt her.
âWhat did you just call me?â Her voice came out soft and pained. [Y/N] turned away from him, smoothing out her dress. Hot, angry tears pooled in her eyes. She felt stupid and naive for allowing herself to think that Steve Harrington might love someone like her.
Steve had been her first real boyfriend. In fact, [Y/N] had just settled on the conclusion that she would start dating in college when one of the kids she babysat convinced her to go out on a date with âthis guy he knew.â The last person she would have guessed she might fall in love with was âKingâ Steve Harrington himself. Yet, here she was- crying over him nonetheless.
âCâmon, now,â he begged. âIt was just a stupid mistake-!â
âNo,â she said, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. âCut the bullshit, Steve.â
Bullshit. Steve flinched at the word, and for once, found himself unable to speak. The last time a girl he loved had said those words to him had broken his heart, and he had a suspicion that it was about to happen again.
âYeah, but-â
âBut what, Steve? What else could you possibly have to say to me right now?â
When he fell silent, [Y/N] stood up abruptly. She nodded, trampling around his room in search of her shoes. With a heavy sigh, she turned to look at him one last time.
âI love you, Steve Harrington, but I have no interest in being anyoneâs second choice.â
With that, she trudged down the stairs and made a break for the front door, Steve right behind her. He called after her, but [Y/N] was just too filled with adrenaline to make out any of what he was telling her.
Her vision now blurred from sobbing, [Y/N] stumbled on home. She refused to turn back for fear of catching Steveâs eye, afraid she might take one look into those pretty boy eyes and forgive him too soon. Eventually, he stopped calling for her, and sheâd assumed he retreated back into his house alone. She hugged her arms to her chest, trying to catch her breath. Her heart ached and she was angry. Angry with Steve for toying with her heart, angry at herself for thinking she could ever replace a girl like Nancy Wheeler, and angry at herself for giving up her dream school for something closer to home just to see a boy she was unsure she ever had a real shot with.
Back on his front porch, Steve stood transfixed for a good while after she disappeared from his line of vision. A churning feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, as reality sunk in.
Heâd lost her.
Please reblog this if youâre a stranger things or an IT blog I need to follow more blogs x
send help

okay so i know i have several series that are unfinished but i also have ideas for 2 new pieces. i have no idea which one to work on next. send input bC
Hypochondriac : Part 02

warnings: mentions of bullying, slow burn, not much :)
summary: returning to Derry was terrifying enough, but when Eddie finds himself forced to deal with painful truths, he second guesses everything he thought he knew. Peggy returns to her childhood home and decides that being a sacrifice isnât so bad, as long as the ones she loves make it out alive. And she lets herself wonder what could have been when she finds out the fate of her first love.
a/n: this is my first attempt at writing for IT, and feedback is always appreciated!
PART ONE HERE
1985
The plane ride from JFK to Bangor, Maine didnât sit well with Peggy for more reasons than a hellish storm and dangerous turbulence. Something felt off- even more off than the sound of Mike Hanlonâs voice as he told her that IT returned. She squeezed her eyes shut and marked the page in the book sheâd given up on reading.
Unlike Bill Denbrough, who Peggy knew had a movie star wife and a highly successful writing career, and Ben Hanscom, who was internationally famous for his architectural designs, Peggy felt as if she had little to leave behind in her New York City apartment. These days, SoHo lacked the shine and love Peggy first fell in love with. She had never felt more alone after everything that happened with Nick, and that apartment still had his scent ingrained into each and every piece of furniture.
Peggy Turner and Nick Wilson fell in love hard and fast as naive college students, and theyâd been so in love they never left the city: even after graduation. The lovebirds married by 25 and soon enough they had a decent apartment and the lives theyâd always wanted. Peggy had a gallery in Brooklyn and Nick finally got that spot on the NYPD heâd always dreamt of. For a long time, they were really, truly, blissfully happy.
Until the summer of 1984.
Looking back, Peggy felt as if she should have known it was only the beginning of the end for her. As things usually happened for Peggy Turner, good things turned sour fairly quickly. And the summer of â84 was pretty high up on her list of bad memories.
Eyes still closed and fluttering softly, Peggy grasped around her memory for images of her husband. She could see him only fleetingly, in flashes of unruly hair and dimpled smiles. Just as quickly as his memory appeared, it morphed into someone else; someone Peggy had nearly forgotten. Nearly. Her heart thudded at the thought.
She had loved him so long ago, as if in another life entirely. Their relationship was sweet and innocent and pure, but when he moved away her young heart was shattered. If she didnât think they were too young at the time, Peggy might have called him her first love.
And through her painful memories of last summer, Peggy found herself smiling like a fool on a crowded airplane. She didnât know where Stanley Uris ended up or what he was up to, but she really hoped he was doing well.
For a moment- a brief, selfish moment- Peggy felt nearly excited to return to Derry if it meant seeing him again. She couldnât have been more wrong about what Derry had in store for her.
1958
The pair walked in an uncomfortable silence, with Peggy carefully pulling at her cardigan in shame, and Eddie fiddling with the aspirator in his hand. She glanced sideways at him, mouth agape with half-spoken words.
âEddie,â she said. âAm I loser?â
The boy nearly dropped his inhaler at this, taken aback. Sure, that word was no stranger to Eddie Kaspbrak, and to many of his friends, but it was not a term he would think to pin on a girl like Peggy Turner.
âWhere did you get that idea?â
Peggy shrugged her shoulders, suddenly feeling very shy.
âThatâs what theyâve been calling me,â she paused.
For a moment, he wanted to smile, maybe even laugh, and jokingly welcome her to the club. He and his friends were forever branded as losers. That much at least made sense to him. To their peers, Eddie Kaspbrak was a hypochondriac with a crazy mother, Bill Denbrough had a terrible stutter and a missing brother, Stanley Uris was Jewish and a neat-freak, and Richie Tozierâs glasses were too big and he never kept his TrashMouth shut.
Eddie glanced at her with furrowed eyebrows. He caught the tail end of her fiasco with Greta Bowie earlier that day, and thought about chasing after her, but Peggy ducked into the girlsâ restroom before he could get to her.
It was common knowledge that Greta was a bully. She had a nasty tendency to harass anyone who stood out or who didnât have as much money as her parents did. If Henry Bowers and his gang werenât already doing it, she might give a go at Eddie and his friends from time to time. But Peggy? No one had seen that coming.
He thought for a moment that there must have been a reason Greta ruined Peggyâs pride and her clothing in one swift motion. What, though, he simply couldnât work out.
As far as Eddie was concerned, Peggy was a walking daydream. She oozed kindness on cloudy days and always made sure her neighbor was okay, even if they werenât exactly friends anymore. Apart from maybe Bill, Eddie admired Peggy the most in the world. He had never heard her say a bad word towards anyone, and seeing her with tear-stained cheeks and that defeated demeanor cracked his heart.
âI donât think so,â he told her. âYouâre not a loser to me.â
Eddie wasnât sure how helpful he had been, but she smiled at him and he couldnât help but to return the gesture. When Peggy pulled him into a side-hug, he tried to wriggle away, but she simply laughed and skipped ahead of him.
The girl turned on her heel to face her old friend and brushed her wild hair from her face. She started to ask where they were meeting him, but the words caught in her throat at the sight of Stan himself across the road. He stood on a park bench, focused on a book and oblivious to his approaching friends; Peggy thought he looked marvelous.
Eddie pretended not to notice the way she looked at him as he pulled her across the street.
âStan likes to watch birds,â he explained.
âBirds?â
Eddie shrugged. Peggy smiled faintly.
Eddie had trouble matching her pace as she went to greet Stan.
âI hope you donât mind that I crashed your afternoon,â she said sheepishly.
But Stan simply smiled at her, glancing at Eddie who stood behind her. Eddie silently pleaded with him not to say anything stupid, afraid it might offend her if he stared at her dirtied clothing.
âYouâre not,â Stan said, blushing a faint pink.
Peggy tentatively sat down on the bench beside him, smoothing out her skirt, which left Eddie to stand or sit on the bare ground. He remained standing.
Stan clutched his book a little tighter in his lap as he caught a glimpse of the dirty state of Peggyâs clothing. He never liked unclean things. But this was Peggy and he had watched it happen.
She seemed oblivious to his gaze, as she remained silent for a moment.
âSo,â Peggy glanced between the boys. âWhatâre you reading?â
She gently pushed his hands to close the book, smiling at the title. Stan parted his lips, embarrassed, and started to brush it off. She beat him to it.
âCool,â she said.
He grinned back at her, surprised by her kind reaction.Â
The three of them spent the better half of the afternoon strolling around the park, with Stan pointing out some Bluebirds and Eddie trailing a few inches behind them. Stan noted that his book claimed Bluebirds could symbolize transition, but kept this to himself. He never cared much for things like that.
They eventually collapsed on the grass- Stan testing the grass for dirt before sitting cross-legged beside Eddie, who Peggy had dragged down with her. Peggy laid back in the grass, dark hair fanning behind her head. She smiled to herself and watched the sky, occasionally laughing at something Eddie said.
Stan squinted at Peggy through the afternoon sun and grinned. He looked on with soft adoration as she deciphered shapes in the clouds; for the first time, he thought he could watch her all afternoon.
Hypochondriac : Part 01
tbh i just love stan and eddie sm and i feel like sometimes they donât get enough love, so i decided to put this out there.

summary: returning to Derry was terrifying enough, but when Eddie finds himself forced to deal with painful truths, he second guesses everything he thought he knew. Peggy returns to her childhood home and decides that being a sacrifice isnât so bad, as long as the ones she loves make it out alive. And she lets herself wonder what could have been when she finds out the fate of her first love.
pairings: platonic!eddie kaspbrak x oc, stan uris x oc, richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak, (possibly?) eventual!bill denbrough x oc
warnings: mentions of bullying, not much for this part; slow burn
a/n: this is my first attempt at writing for IT, and Iâm super excited about this piece. i decided to try out an oc so :â))
1985
Eddie Kaspbrak sat hunched over in his seat. He glanced over at the suitcase by his feet and fumbled with the pump inhaler in his hands. He wondered how much of the medicine and supplies heâd stashed in the second bag would be of any use. Since he got off the phone earlier that day, Eddieâs mind had been a foggy mess of returning memories and stinging nostalgia. Half of his mind could hear little more than his motherâs voice, scolding him for anything and everything. There was another part of him, though, that was stirring up an emotion he hadnât felt in almost 30 years.
A heavy, thick feeling settled in his throat and he found himself thinking about people heâd long since forgotten. His mind glazed over misty images of long, dark hair and warm blue eyes. He thought of messy hair and big, ugly glasses, too.
Eddie twirled the inhaler over in his hands and wondered what she might have to say about him now; and the boy, too, always had something to say. That damn boy; Eddieâs heart strained at the thought of him and those horrid glasses, and he lifted his aspirator to his lips in a panic. He paused moments before it met his lips.
A voice that certainly was not his motherâs rang around his head.
Oh, Eds. You and that damn inhaler!
Burying his face into his clammy hands, Eddie screwed his eyes shut and tried to remember more about the girl with the starry eyes and the boy with those dumb glasses.
1958
Peggy stood before the dingy bathroom mirror, frantically rubbing at the food stains on her brand new blouse. Her blue eyes threatened to spill with hurt tears. She felt dumb and defeated. Frustrated, she yanked her neat French braids loose into wild brown waves. The stain only worsened under her erratic movements and she threw the paper towel to the floor in a huff. Wiping fresh tears from her freckled cheeks, she sought refuge in an empty bathroom stall at the sound of footsteps.
Peggy folded the toilet seat down into a makeshift chair and pulled her limbs to herself as she sat. The approaching intruders seemed to be in no rush, and she could only make out a pair of scuffed Mary Janes and some neat Penny Loafers in the spot she had just been. Â Â
She had never liked school bathrooms; there were always busybody girls there gossiping about things they didnât understand and bullies lurking around for prey to stumble in. If she had one guess, the girls fidgeting in front of the mirror were mere seconds away from spreading slander. The trembling girl jammed the heel of her palm between her teeth, crying softly. Today had not gone as planned, not at all.
A voice giggled through the silence:
âDid you hear?â
âAbout Peggy Turner?â
âYeah,â a pause. âGreta planned that for weeks!â
âI heard she cried.â
âOh, my god! What a loser!â
At least someone found it amusing.
Her stockings now had rips up the side and Peggy couldnât seem to find a good backup story to give her mother for the absurd stain on her brand-new pink blouse. Worst of all, the confidence she spent a whole week building up was now squashed.
Sheâd talk to him next week.
While the girls chattered for a few minutes longer, presumably laughing at her some more, Peggy drowned their voices out. She never cared much about what others said about her, and hearing it now would do her no good. Eventually, the talking faded and the girls seemed to have left.
She inched the door open slowly, checking the bathroom for more threats. Peggy pulled the straps of her backpack closer and rushed down the fronts steps of school. A few people stared at her as she passed, but Peggy was a woman on a mission. The girl walked home as quickly as she could without working into a run. She hoped she could catch Eddie before he ran off with those friends of his.
Eddie Kaspbrak had been Peggyâs next-door-neighbor for as long as she could remember, and he had always been a good source of comfort for her. And he also just so happened to be friends with Stanley Uris.
A harsh rap rang out against the wooden front door to the Kaspbrak household. The girl bounced on the balls of her heels, hoping Eddie was home. She wanted him to comfort her after this atrocious day, and Mrs. Kaspbrak would only insult her. A moment of rustling could be heard from within the house before the door swung open.
Eddie, leaving the door cracked only an inch or two, stepped out onto the front porch. He offered his neighbor a soft smile, but grimaced at the sight of her dirtied clothing. Peggy reckoned she looked like hell, with her disheveled appearance and the rawness that came with crying still loitering in her eyes. She covered the blouse with her cardigan, frowning.
âHey,â she said, breathless. âI just-â
She paused, sighing.
âAre you busy?â
Eddie glanced behind him, checked the watch on his wrist, and shrugged. The girl took this as a good sign, and grinned.
âMeet me on the roof in five?â
Happy for the first time since that morning, she made towards her own house.
âPegs, wait!â
She turned over her shoulder, half-expecting him to tell her heâd changed her mind.
âI, uh, I promised Stan that Iâd hang out with him today.â
Peggyâs shoulders deflated. She and Eddie hadnât spent much time together in a while; not like he did with Bill Denbrough, Richie Tozier, or Stanley Uris. Still, sheâd missed him and his dumb fanny packs.
âOkay,â she said.
Peggy dug her house key from her bag and was about to go inside when he spoke up again.
âYou should come with us!â
She crossed her arms over her chest, as if he could otherwise see the rise in her heartbeat.
âIâm sure heâd be glad to see you,â he added.
âHey, wait!â
She chased after him, discarding her bag onto the front porch swing.
âThe hell was that supposed to mean!?â