#✘ ❛ the mirror of your dreams ❜ ⇾ 「 dustin / reflection 」

[chaosgremlinmunson]

Soul-Searching

For @steddie-week July 4: body swap

Steve wakes up slowly, he's so comfortable and is surrounded by luxurious silk sheets, a million pillows, and a cool dark room. He blinks for a moment thinking maybe he's still asleep, maybe this is still a dream. His overworked mind thinking of the height of luxury instead of his flat above the coffee-shop he manages working odd hours and barely sleeping. He's making it, but just barely, were it not for Claudia and Dustin Henderson and the casseroles sent weekly he's sure he'd be malnourished. I mean, food or bills? Well, he can get a few tiny staples, but the bills need paid or it's sleeping in his tiny car, the Beemer having been sold out from under him at 19 when he finally told his father he wasn't going to work for him, he was queer, and he was going to find his own way if they couldn't accept him. The fight that ensued insured he'd never be considered a Harrington again, oh he could keep his last name, but make no mistake, that was the day Richard and Diane Harrington's son died. So here he was hallucinating a life he could only dream of, he raised a hand to wipe at his eyes and noticed the ink littering his skin. Black nail polish, and as he sat up long dark curls cascading over his shoulders and face. He rose immediately searching through the dark for a light switch and then spinning to find a mirror only to see the front man of Corroded Coffin staring back at him. He gaped at his reflection turning this way and that, his eyes roving over the body before him before landing on the bare hips in the mirror. To his left the phone rang, and he launched himself over the bed to retrieve it.

“Hello?” He said quietly.

“Hey, yeah, hi.” His voice said back, what the fuck, his voice? How? “So, uh, it seems like I'm either hallucinating, or, and hear me out, I body swapped with whoever you are. I'm um, standing in your…. apartment I guess you'd call it, and uh, honestly I have no idea what to do here man. But, I have a sold out concert in two days and I kinda need my body back to go perform. No offense, I'm sure you're really nice and talented and all, but I, just..” the voice trailed off, he could hear the nerves in his own voice.

“Yeah, uh, not hallucinating. And I'd prefer to give you your body back too. It's a nice body and all, but I am so not equipped to be a metal singer man, I can barely listen to it without getting migraines. Tell you what, are you in Indy? I haven't left your…home? Yet or anything, actually I haven't even found where you have your clothes at, and I'd prefer to have some semblance of clothes on. But maybe you could come to where you live and we can talk?”

“Yeah, yep, that uh, that sounds good. You fell asleep in jeans and tee so I'll just come by in this, and oh your keys were in your pocket. Cool, what kinda car do I look for?”

“It's a small white car just outside the coffee shop downstairs. If anyone tries to stop you just say you have a family emergency and will call them later.”

“Sounds good, uh if they try to stop me what name do I answer to if called?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Steve, my name is Steve. “

“Sounds good Stevie, I'll be there as soon as I can.”

Steve hung up the phone when the dial tone started and looked around, he noticed a door painted black with a red dragon and decided to open it, he was greeted by an immense collection of black clothes and pulled out the first things he saw, on the table next to it there was a dish with some scrunchies and hair ties, he chose a silk one to tie up the curls after finger combing them carefully. Once he was done with that he made his way downstairs wandering until he found the front door, a small bench sat next to it with boots and other shoes lined up carefully and he sat, waiting.

Before he knew it a knock came to the front door and he opened it to see his own face looking at him wide eyed.

“This is real then.” He watched his mouth say, he nodded and swallowed.

“Hi, Eddie. I want so badly to say it's nice to meet you, but uh, every time I've thought about meeting you it was more running into you, or maybe going to a concert with my ear protection but having the backstage passes to meet the band, flirting and then…well. Anyway, ahem, why don't uh you show me where your coffee is and we can brainstorm how to change us back?”

Eddie led him into the kitchen and he sat on a bar stool while he flitted around making them some coffee. They started talking, it lasted for hours and finally Eddie looked at him for a moment, and then took a deep breath.

“Okay, I want to try something, and if it doesn't work please don't punch me.” He began, and leaned over to pull Steve into a kiss who immediately saw stars behind his eyelids and melted into the embrace. Either this kiss was world shattering, or the cosmos conspired to find Steve a boyfriend. Eventually they pulled apart both panting and slowly opened their eyes. Steve found himself looking at the rockstar now and giggled.

“It worked.” He whispered. “You're you again, and I'm me.”

“That it did sweetheart. I know this seems fast, but do you want to maybe go on a date with me? I don't think I'm going to forget you anytime soon.”

“I'll go on all the dates with you Eddie Munson.” And Steve pulled him back into a sweet passionate kiss.

They would spend the next weeks and months getting to know each other, but they felt as though they'd known each other in every life, for eons. Fate brought them together and they fell hopelessly, emphatically in love.

[complicatedchelsea]

Fallen Through Time For You

Chapter Five: Conspiracies for Breakfast

Masterlist:

(gif not mine)

(Sydney's POV)

The sound of a crash and loud laughter jolted me awake the next morning. The sun was coming in through the window and the blankets on the ground were empty.  I couldn’t tell what time it was, but it seemed Max and El left me to sleep while they joined the others. My bladder made the choice for me about leaving the room or waiting till someone came to find me. 

I opened the door quietly, but no one was waiting outside for me. Taking a quick glance down the hallway,  I assumed that most of the noise was coming from the kitchen. No one was in the bathroom when I entered, so I took a minute to gather my wits. I washed my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror. I was still here in the Byers house, which meant I was still here in the 1980’s. All this meant that this wasn’t some weird dream, I actually woke up here and the mark on my wrist was real. 

I glanced down at the silver mark. It still stuck out as much as it did yesterday. I traced it slowly, it still felt like a part of me. So it was real, I reassured myself. Eddie was my soulmate. I fell through time to show up at the feet of my soulmate. What the hell even is this world?

I left the bathroom before I could fall into a deeper rabbit hole. Being around Eddie, he helped silence most of these thoughts by just being around me. It was like he took up all of my attention, and I didn’t have time to think these overwhelming thoughts. The closer I got to the kitchen, the louder the talking got. I practically ran into Will as I rounded the corner. 

“Shit!” I said as I laid a hand on his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to run into you.”

Will smiled. “It’s okay, it can get pretty chaotic when we are all together. Did we wake you?”

I shook my head. “Of course not. It was about time I got my lazy self out of bed.”

“Did you want some breakfast?” Will asked as he scratched the back of his neck. “Mom’s making pancakes.”

“Has everyone already eaten?” I asked. I really didn’t want Joyce to feel like she had to make me something if everyone was already done. I could wait. 

“I was actually waiting for you,” Will said with a small smile. “Eddie mentioned that you don’t want anyone to go out of their way for you. I can be the same way at times. So I offered to be your breakfast buddy if he wasn’t here.”

I blinked at him, surprised that Will was so willing to wait for me.  “Eddie isn’t here yet?”

“Another thing you might have in common,” Will started as he grabbed my arm and led towards where Joyce was at the stove. “Eddie can sleep like the dead and not wake up for anything. That’s the only reason why he isn’t here yet.”

“Huh,” I said. “He was here pretty late last night waiting for Wayne. He seems like the type to either run on no hours of sleep and just crash when he’s exhausted.”

Will laughed. “You have no idea how much these past few months we’ve seen him just crash and sleep through a whole hour of Dustin arguing with Steve.”

Joyce turned to look at me from the stove, a plate of pancakes in hand. “Morning!”

“Morning,” I returned with a smile. “I didn’t mean to sleep so late.”

She waved a spatula at me. “Nonsense, you needed it. I was just hoping the kids didn’t wake you from being so loud.”

I waved a hand. “I’ve slept through worse.”

Will picked up a plate and handed me one before taking one for himself. “Would you like some orange juice?”

“Sure,” I said as Will darted towards the fridge. Joyce motioned for me to reach out my plate as she placed a few pancakes and some bacon on it. 

“Do you want me to make you anything else?” She asked as she shoved a fork in my hand as well. “I don’t mind, all the boys are really picky so it’s no issue. We’ve got syrup on the table, there is some jelly in the fridge, or-”

“Joyce,” I said with a small laugh. “I’m okay, really. This is way more than I usually eat in the morning. Thank you.”

“You don’t eat in the morning?” She asked me as she started loading up another plate as Will reappeared with two glasses. 

“Not exactly,” I said as I sent him a smile and took one of the glasses from his hand. “It’s a bloodsugar thing? If I eat too early it makes me nauseous; so normally I just keep something with me in case I get lightheaded.”

Joyce didn’t like that answer, I could see the way her eyebrows pinched together and her lips drew into a line. “What about your mom? Did she not try to keep food in the house that wouldn’t make you sick?”

I shrugged my shoulders, not liking the idea of Joyce being mad at me.

“Sweetie,” Joyce started as I heard her put down the spatula and grab one of my hands that was holding the plate. “You give me a list of some of these safe foods and I promise that I will keep them here for when you need them.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that,” I stammered out. Some of that stuff was hard to keep on the shelves in my time, god forbid I make life harder for anyone else here. “Really, it’s okay.”

“No it’s not,” Joyce said as she turned back around. “What kind of parent doesn’t make sure their kid eats?”

I didn’t answer her question and Will just nudged me in the direction of a dining table in the connecting room. Steve, Hopper, and Robin were already seated at the table with full plates. Hopper was sitting at the head of the table, Robin and Steve sitting across from each other on separate sides of the table. Steve smiled and motioned to the seat next to him. 

“Just so you know, Mom wasn’t mad at you.” Will said as set his plate down next to Robin. “She’s very protective of all her kids. Ask anyone.”

Will didn’t mention it again as I sat next to Steve, pushing the food around on my plate. Robin was telling some story about a rude customer, her arms gesturing wildly. Behind her I could see the rest of the party sitting around the living, cartoon’s seeming to be playing on the TV. I managed to eat a few bites of the pancakes before I could feel the heaviness in my stomach and decided that maybe waiting a bit could help me finish the plate. 

“So did you end up getting any sleep last night?” Steve asked and it took me a second to realize he was looking in my direction. “You know, after your little adventure outside?”

He said it with a teasing smile and I just rolled my eyes before lightly hitting his elbow with mine. “I did, actually. I just knew that I had a protector in the next room and that gave me the power to relax.”

“Okay, smartass.” Steve said with a chuckle. “How are you feeling this morning? Still freaked out?”

Hopper interrupted me before I could answer Steve. “You went somewhere last night?”

“No,” I said, scared. Hopper was sending me this look like he caught me selling drugs to a minor. “Of course not. I couldn’t sleep so I ended up on the swing out front for a bit. I just needed a few minutes alone to think about some stuff.”

“Is that what you are calling Eddie now?” Robin snorted as she shoved another bite into her mouth. “‘Your alone time’?”

“Robin” I hissed as I felt my face go red. I rubbed at my face, hiding from the other gazes at the table and let out a groan. 

“So that’s why he’s not here now,” Will said and I could hear the humor in his voice. “You kept him up late?”

I lifted my head to send a glare towards Will and he just laughed. “Eddie was already out there when I got out there. I had some questions, and he answered them.”

Steve let out another laugh. “We’re just ragging you, Sydney. Eddie’s like a freakin’ vampire. Guy barely sleeps at night.”

I sent a look towards Hopper and he was just sitting back and watching me, lighting up a cigarette. It seemed to be a battle of wills as I didn’t want to look away, but he folded with a sign and rubbed at his beard. “Do you want to know what I found out at the station?”

I sat up in the chair. “You found something?”

Before Hopper could answer me, there was an obnoxious knock at the door. Will rolled his eyes and stood up to answer it, and I could hear Eddie’s chain’s as he entered the house. 

“Morning!” He said cheerfully. I watched him greet his way through the living room before he followed Will back toward the table. When he spotted me, Eddie sent me a wide smile and I couldn’t help to send him one back. He surveyed the table before grabbing a chair from the small table in the kitchen and planting himself down beside me at the end of the table. 

“Morning, sweetheart.” Eddie greeted me as he leaned forward to give the hand closest to him a squeeze. “Sleep well?”

I nodded. “Feeling better now that you’re here.”

“Is that so?” Eddie sent me a smirk and leaned back. “I have to say I feel the same.”

The sound of a throat cleaning at the other end of table drew my attention back to Hopper. “Are you two going to keep this up or do you want to hear what I found?”

Eddie leaned out of my space a bit. “Floor is yours, Chief.”

Hopper let out another grunt before taking another drag on putting out the cigarette. “So you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Bad news,” I said as I let my eyes flick to the rest of the group at the table. “Always bad news.”

Hopper let out a sarcastic chuckle. “So bad new’s is I couldn’t find anything about you. You are not listed in any missing person’s boards, no criminal record, or birth records. Sydney Thompson does not exist.”

“Not yet,” Eddie pointed out. 

Hopper nodded. “That is still a possibility. But I was hoping that her name would at least pop up in the system. It would’ve made this whole thing easier.”

“When has anything been easy for us?” Joyce said as she made her way towards the table, coffee mug in hand. When she saw Eddie, she frowned. “Eddie, I’m sorry but I’ve already cleaned up the kitchen. Did you want me to make you something for breakfast?”

“Don’t worry about it Ms.Byers” Eddie said with a smile. “I should have been here earlier. I’ll be okay.”

“No,” I said as I nudged my plate in his direction and held out my fork. “I’m not going to be able to finish. Share with me?”

“Didn’t we already argue about this?” Eddie laughed as he took the fork from me. “You need to eat.”

“I did eat some,” I pointed out. “Who says I’m finished?”

I didn’t let him argue back as I turned back to Hopper. Joyce had moved to stand by his side, slightly leaning into him with a smile on her face as she tried to hide it behind her cup. “What’s the good news?”

Hopper leaned forward so his arms rested on the table. “Good news is that your parent’s do exist. I was able to find their names in the system. Your father is living somewhere up north and your mother is living in North Carolina.”

I frowned. “Are you sure that’s right? By this time my father was already living in North Carolina. He should be sixteen.”

Hopper nodded. “His criminal record showed his last known address as a small town in Maryland.”

“Criminal record? My father doesn’t have a criminal record. Unless…” I trailed off. Unless he did get trouble up there and that caused them to never move down here, which means he wouldn’t meet my mother in this universe. Meaning I wouldn’t exist.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie said as he shoved the glass of orange juice in my hands. “You are looking a little pale, drink something.”

I took a few drinks before handing the glass back to him. I watched as he drank after me before setting the glass on the table. He picked up a piece of pancake with the fork and offered it to me. I took the fork from him, taking another bite before turning back to Hopper. I felt a little nauseous, but I didn’t think it was from eating too early. 

“He’s never going to meet my mother,” I said to Hopper. “By this age he was bothering her in homeroom while she kept turning him down and then sixteen years later I came about. So that means I won’t exist in this universe.”

“Are you sure?” Steve spoke for the first time since Hopper started. “Maybe you have the date wrong?”

I shook my head. “No. They were already living in North Carolina by the time he was thirteen. This means that they won’t meet.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Robin asked. “That there won’t be two Sydney’s running around in twenty years?”

Hopper rubbed his chin. “I don’t know. I also don’t know which alternative would have helped us here. I was going to do some more digging because we can’t be too sure that you are Sydney Thompson.”

I stilled from where I was pushing the breakfast plate back towards Eddie. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Hopper started as he looked up at Joyce. “Just like with your memories, can we even be sure that you are Sydney Thompson?”

“But what about the marks?” Eddie asked, confused. “You saw how she reacted to the mark!”

Hopper held a hand out. “But we also know that the mark is the name that your soulmate goes by. Why don’t you think ‘Edward Munson’ isn’t on her wrist instead of Eddie? Just because she goes by Sydney Thompson doesn't mean that she is.”

It almost felt like my head was spinning. This was a lot. The concept of my memories not being real, my name not being real. I could feel the panic creeping up into my chest, my palms beginning to sweat with the idea that I literally have nothing to me. Not even my name. 

“Sweetheart. Hey, Sydney” Eddie’s voice was soft as I felt his hands cup my face and tilt it towards him. “Look at me, baby.”

I met his dark brown eyes. He seemed so calm, so level headed during all this. Why wasn’t he freaking out? Wasn't his world tilting just as mine? He scooted closer, taking over my complete line of vision. I felt his thumbs slowly caress my cheeks as he took an exaggerated deep breath. I tried to follow suit, closing my eyes to try and calm down. 

“Hey,” Eddie said again and I opened my eyes again to look back at him. Trying to stay tethered to something and not go into a full blown panic attack. I think Eddie could read it clearly on my face. “You are Sydney Thompson. That is your name on my wrist and that is my name on yours. We know that is the truth.”

“But-” I started before he interrupted me. 

Eddie’s voice got lower, his tone a bit sharper. “You. Are. Sydney Thompson. There is no question. You wouldn’t have shown up here if it wasn’t. I’ve been trying really hard not to freak you out about this stuff, but I’m laying claim here. You are my soulmate and I am yours. That’s what brought you here. You, Sydney Thompson, belong here with me. That is not going to change. What I’ve been feeling for the past twenty-four hours? You can’t make that shit up.”

I took another deep breath before reaching up and placing my hands on his. Grounding. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Eddie reaffirmed as he ducked his head to be in line with mine. 

I nodded and Eddie dropped his hands from my face, but he didn’t let go of my hands. I let his words anchor me back down. I was who I said I was. I wouldn’t be in this room with these people if I didn’t belong here. I wouldn’t feel what I feel about Eddie if I didn’t belong with him here. I might not be from where I think I am, but I’m here now and that’s what matters. 

My eyes searched his and what I was even looking for, I didn’t know. But his eyes were so sincere, so genuine that I had to believe him. Since I fell into his life, Eddie has been nothing but honest with me. If I could completely trust anyone here, it would be him. 

I realized I had an audience and felt myself flush as I tore my eyes from Eddie and looked around the table. No one seemed angry, all watching me with careful eyes. 

“Jim,” Joyce hissed. “You need to apologize. You just can’t go around saying stuff like that! Especially at times like this!”

“You belong here with us,” Steve said as he directed my attention back towards him. “Don’t doubt that for a second. You’re stuck with us now.”

I saw Robin nod enthusiastically. “It’s official, you are part of the ‘Bullying Harrington Club’, you can’t leave now.”

Steve let out a low whine and Will just chuckled across from me.

“Sydney,” Hopper drew my attention back towards him. “You want to speak about this privately?”

I nodded and with a quick glance towards Joyce, I pushed my chair back to follow Hopper into the kitchen. Eddie wouldn’t let me release his hand, instead pushing his chair back and following me. I raised an eyebrow but didn’t complain and let him follow me.

Hopper eyed Eddie. “Privacy?”

“Sorry Chief,” Eddie said with a grin that didn’t give off the vibe of amusement. The hand that was holding mine let go and moved to wrap around my shoulder and I just melted into his side, seeking for the comfort he gave me last night. “Packaged deal now. Can’t go one without the other.”

Hopper shook his head and looked up at the ceiling for a moment before making eye contact with me. “That was insensitive. I’m sorry.”

I shook my head. “It’s okay, I know why you said it. I didn’t mean to cause a scene.”

“Sydney,” Eddie said. “You are allowed to be upset about this. This was a lot to bring up at breakfast.”

“No,” I said as I looked up with Eddie. “He was just being honest, and he does have a point.”

Eddie let out a frustrated noise and just shook his head. 

“Don’t worry about it,” I said to Hopper. I meant it. Sure I didn’t like what he had to say, but he was just being honest. After being thrown through time, it’s not crazy to think that I might not be who I thought I was. I don’t know how much more that I could take of these revealments, but it was good that we laid everything on the table. 

Hopper nodded. “I’m going back to the station today. You know if you need anything you can reach me there?”

I nodded. “Is there anything I can do today?”

“Stay out of trouble,” Hopper said. He eyed Eddie with amusement. “But with Munson here, that might take a lot of effort.”

Eddie rolled his eyes with a laugh. “Scout’s honor that I will be on my best behavior. Thought about taking her on a tour of Hawkins. Can’t leave her cooped up in this house.”

Hopper rubbed his chin. “It’s a small town and frankly most of the population here like to gossip. What are you going to say if someone asks about you?”

I shrugged. “What do you think is best?”

“Maybe that you are his niece?” Joyce added as she entered the kitchen and headed straight for the coffeemaker. “Jim is a bit of a touchy topic around here, no one will push for information if they hear that.”

“Coming back from the dead with a government cover story will do that for you,” Hopper said. “You comfortable going with that? Being my niece?”

I shrugged. “Sure, if you think it’s best. I guess there are worst people to be related to.”

Hopper laughed. “Okay, kiddo. Remember if you need anything-”

“Call the station,” I finished with a smile. “Got it, Uncle Hop.”

Hopper just shook his head and muttered about gray hair before making his way towards the door. Joyce followed after him, and I could hear the sounds of everyone greeting Hopper before he left. Then it was just us two in the kitchen. 

“Why do you do that?” Eddie asked as he took a step back and leaned against the counter behind him. He reached out to grab my hand again, seeming to not like being apart from me. I couldn’t blame him, I liked it better when I was touching him too. 

“What do you mean?”

“You had every right to be upset with Hopper!” Eddie said as he tugged his free hand through his hair. For the first time this morning, I took the time to take in what he was wearing. Still in the ripped black jeans with the chains, and this time a worn Metallic t-shirt under the denim vest he was wearing yesterday. He looked as good as he did yesterday. 

“I was upset with Hopper,” I admitted as I took another step towards him, having the urge to be in his space. “But he’s not wrong. We’ve got to look at this from every angle.”

I could see the fight leave Eddie’s body as he slumped backwards. “Just because you are mad at him doesn’t mean that he’s going to kick you out or anything.” Eddie looked me in the eye. “You know that right? You don’t have to be worried about your reactions getting you in trouble here.”

I floundered. Was I that easy to read? Was I walking around like a kicked puppy?

“But-”

Eddie interrupted me. “Promise me that if you are ever mad at me, you’ll tell me. You have every right to be emotional here.”

I nodded, it was the least I could do. It didn’t seem like I could get mad at Eddie anyway. He made everything too easy. “Promise”

Eddie nodded and smiled wide. “So now that the heaviness is out of the way, you ready to explore Hakwins with me?”

“Us,” Steve corrected as he entered the kitchen with some dirty plates. “You know everyone is going to want to come.”

Eddie groaned dramatically and titled his head back. “So now I have to share my soulmate? How fair is this?”

I laughed and gently patted his check. “Better get used to it. Seems like I’m more popular than you,” I teased. 

Eddie gasped. “For some of those kids in there, I’m their DM. I think you are greatly underestimating me.”

I heard Steve laugh as he put the plates in the sink. “Don’t even get him started on the debate about Dustin.”

Eddie pushed off the counter and dragged me with him as we left Steve to the kitchen. Before I could start towards the living room, his hand tugged me to a stop. He scratched at the back of his neck before he looked down, his leg bouncing nervously. 

“Did Ms.Byers give you something to wear today?” Eddie asked me and then glanced down. “Or are you wanting to spend the day in your pj’s?”

“Ha ha,” I rolled my eyes. “No, I didn’t ask this morning.”

“Well I brought you some of my clothes,” Eddie said towards the ground before he looked up and met my gaze. “If that’s okay with you? I understand if you’d want to wear someone el-”

“Eddie,” I interrupted and gave the hand still holding mine a tight squeeze. “That is fine with me. What did you bring me?”

Eddie smiled widely. “You want to wear my clothes?”

“As long as you didn’t get me something hideous,” I teased with a laugh. “What did you bring me?”

“It’s out in the van,” Eddie said. He leaned forward to kiss my forehead, taking me by surprise. I felt myself flush when he stepped back and dropped my hand. “I’ll go grab it so you can change.”

With that he turned and rushed back towards the front door. I stood there for a second before I shook my head and ventured into the living room. Dustin clocked me first. 

“Sydney!” He said as he got to his feet. “Steve said that Eddie’s going to show you around Hawkin’s today. Can we come?”

“Eddie wants to show me around Hawkin’s?” I asked him. It was just so easy to mess with Dustin, I couldn’t help it. 

Dustin’s face fell and as he stumbled over his words to explain himself, I let out a loud laugh and leaned to squeeze his shoulder. “I’m just fucking with you kid. Of course you can come, I don’t think I could hide from you guys.”

I heard some snickers from the others and Dustin lazily pushed at me before walking towards the kitchen muttering about “telling Steve that he’s getting picked on”. 

“Can you rebraid my hair?” Max asked from the couch. Her braids were a little loose, some of the hair falling out of the side that El had done. 

“Of course,” I moved towards her. She dropped to the floor and let me take a seat on the couch. “Do you want one or two?”

When Eddie came back in, I was already done with Max’s hair. Just as I was tying off her braid, he popped up in the doorway and jerked his head towards the hallway. When I joined him, he had a pile of folded clothes and a plastic bag. 

“So Nancy caught me outside,” Eddie said as he guided me back towards the bathroom. “She figured you might need some of these and said that they should be the right size.”

Eddie thrusted the bag at me, his face pink. Curiosity won over and I peered into the bag to see a handful of bras and some packaged underwear. 

“Eddie,” I said teasingly. “Did you not want to look at my underwear?”

A startled noise came from him and he met my eyes. “Of course I want to see your underwear! Wait-no! I mean, no I didn’t look in the bag because I didn’t know what exactly she gave y-”

“Hey,” I interrupted him with a wide smile. “Eddie, I’m just messing with you.”

“Oh,” He said and leaned his back towards the ceiling with a groan. “Don’t do that to me, jeez.”

I reached into the bag and checked the sizing, Nancy had got it right. “How did she get the size correct?”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. Don’t you girls have a radar for that stuff or something?”

I shrugged back. “How the hell am I supposed to know?”

Eddie shook his head and reached out with the folded clothes. “I didn’t think you’d want to wear my jeans, but I did bring you a shirt and one of my flannels because I’ve noticed you stay a bit cold. If you don’t like it, we can always find something else.”

I took the clothes and hugged them to my chest. “I’m sure these will work fine. You going to wait out here for me?”

Eddie just took a step back and leaned against the opposite wall. “I’ll be right out here.”

I just shook my head and closed the door behind me. I laid his clothes on the closed toilet lid and saw that at some point Joyce must have place my clothes on a shelf near the door. I cleaned up quickly with the toothbrush from the night before and used some of Nancy’s face wash again. Swapping the pj pants out for my leggings from the day before, I took a moment to see what Eddie had actually brought me. The flannel felt very soft and smelled very nice, but I could still make out that underlying scent that just screamed Eddie. The other shirt he brought was a three-quarter sleeved shirt. The sleeves were black, chest area white, and had some design on the front. There was a red-faced demon right in the middle, “Hellfire Club” printed right about it. The shirt was soft as well, and after making sure the bra I took out wouldn’t show from under the shirt, I tugged both on. 

When I looked in the mirror, I was met with the sight of just how possessive the shirts look. Not that it was a bad thing, but you could definitely tell these weren’t my clothes and they belonged to a very particular group. I couldn’t fight the smile that crossed my face. I know that if I went back out there and asked for a different change of clothes, Eddie would get it for me, hands down. But these clothes gave me a sense of security. The fact that Eddie tripped over himself to hand them to me, maybe a tiny part to show off himself but also to make sure I was comfortable. 

I tugged my hair out of its braid, letting the soft waves fall down my back. I checked myself in the mirror once again, making sure that I hadn’t changed places once again. Before I could let myself get lost in those trains of thoughts, I opened the door finding Eddie still standing across from the door. This time now, Dustin had joined him. 

“What do you mean I can’t ride with you?” Dustin said. “You always let me ride in the van!”

“Dustin,” Eddie said as he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Maybe next time? I want Sydney to be comfortable today. If you guys keep throwing these questions at her, she’s not going to want to be around anyone.”

Dustin nodded and when he turned, he zeroed in on me. “Holy shit, you gave her your Hellfire shirt?”

Eddie’s gaze snapped to me, a delighted smile crossing his face. “Well, look what we have here.”

He took two large steps towards me, tugging on the material of the flannel. “Don’t you look good, sweetheart.”

I felt my face flush. “The clothes work fine Eddie. Thank you.”

“Sydney,” Eddie said as he reached out to tug at a strand of my hair. “You can have my whole closet if you are going to look this good in my clothes.”

I bit my lip to try and hold back the smile that was threatening to take up my face. 

A cough brought me back, Dustin coming up behind Eddie. “Can you two not do this for two seconds?”

My face got hotter as I took a step back from Eddie. Only Eddie didn’t seem to like that, and moved forward to take my hand and angle his body towards Dustin. “This is what you are going to have to put up with if you ride in the van. You still trying to beg for a spot?”

Eddie pushed past him without an answer, dragging me with him by our interlocked hands. I let out a surprised laugh and let him lead me back towards the others. It seemed that most of everyone was packed up, trying to divide into who would go in which car. Steve was standing dead center in the living room, hands on his hips as Max waved her hands at him for something I couldn’t hear. 

“Do they always do this?” I asked Eddie as I leaned closer to him. God forbid Max actually hear me and start on me like she was with Steve. 

Eddie chuckled. “Always. Red knows exactly what buttons to push and usually guilt trips Steve when she wants something.”

“And Steve folds like a wet paper towel,” Robin said as she rounded the corner. She snickered, “Steve can’t say no to any of his kids.”

Steve then threw his hands up, shaking his head and then gesturing to the door. “Fine! But Nancy and Jonthan are going to pick you two up, I’m not driving back out there.”

Even though I couldn’t see her face, I could just feel the smirk that Max was sporting from here. “Thanks, mom.”

Steve groaned and Max grabbed El’s hand and started towards the door. Robin let out another snicker before grabbing her boots near the door. “Are you two going to come to Steve’s while we wait for the rest to get ready?”

Before I could answer, Steve made his way to us and swatted at Dustin’s hat. “Please make sure that Max and El don’t try anything with the beemer. I’ll give you a lift home.”

Once Dustin was out the door, Steve turned back towards us. “I have to drop Max and El off at the cabin and then drop Dustin off at his house. Do you want to come back to mine with Robin? Nancy and Jonthan are going to take care of dropping the rest off and taking them to the arcade.”

“Is that where the tour starts?” I asked. “You guys actually have a functioning arcade?”

Steve nodded and I looked up to Eddie. I really didn’t care where we went today. As long as I was with Eddie, I could go anywhere. 

“Do you not have any arcades?” Eddie asked. 

“More rare now.” I said as I looked back at Steve. “I haven’t been to one in ages. I’d love to start there.”

Steve clapped his hands together. “Then it’s settled. Robin and Eddie know where I live. Let me drop off the other’s and I’ll meet you there?”

Eddie nodded and gestured towards the door. “You okay with Robin coming with us?”

Robin snorted. “Excuse me, we have a meeting to attend. ‘Bullying Harrington Club’ has to brainstorm ideas.”

Steve groaned as he shrugged on his shoes and started towards the door. “Don’t start that.”

“Too late,” Robin said and stuck out her tongue at him. “We have to have a ceremony for our newest member.”

“How many members do you have?” I asked with a smile. 

“Three now,” Eddie said with a laugh. “You, me, and Robin. Adult’s only.”

I laughed. “Well I guess I should feel honored.”

“You should”, Robin said with a chuckle and weaved her arm through mine. “Only the best of the best can bully Steve.”

After pausing to let me tug my converse on, Robin guided me out the front door while she rambled about getting matching t-shirts to piss off Steve. Joyce was waiting out on the porch, pushing a jacket into Will’s hands. She turned to us with a smile, waving at Steve as he drove off. Robin let go of me to give her a hug, Eddie doing the same. Lastly Joyce turned towards me with her arms stretched out. 

“Is this okay? I always hug my kids before they leave.”

Jesus Christ. If Joyce kept this up she was going to become my favorite out of everyone. I felt a lump form in my throat as I stepped forward into her arms. “Of course it is.”

She held onto me for a few moments longer than she did Eddie and Robin. When she stepped back, she patted my face softly. “You need anything, you call the house. The kids know my number. Anything at all.”

“I know,” I said as I took a step back and she dropped her hand. “Thank you.”

Joyce smiled again and waited for us to be loaded into the van before she stepped back into the house. Robin let me have shotgun, Eddie gesturing to the glovebox for me to pick a tape. 

“Is she like this for everyone?” I asked as I read the label of a tape before picking up another one. 

“Like she said,” Eddie said as he plucked the tape from my hand and shoved it in the radio. “Trauma bonds us together for life. With everything we’ve gone through, it’s safe to say she views us all as her kids now.”

I let that settle over me as we drove towards Steve’s. Was it that easy for some people? Mothers like Joyce? To take one look at a child and be claimed there’s?

If it was so easy for her, why couldn’t my own mother do it?

“So should we start with saying his hair is turning gray or we think it’s falling out?” Robin said with a laugh. 

I turned to face her, mischief written all over her face. “Steve?”

She rolled her eyes. “Who else? C’mon, give me some ideas here Eddie! We can’t go after his room again, he’s already changed his comforter.”

Eddie laughed and I’ve noticed that when he full-body laughs, he throws head back like the laughter is fighting to burst out all at once. “Shit, really?”

“Yeah!” Robin said. “You gave him shit about that for weeks. Obviously he got into his head about it.”

“That room gave me a headache, thank god.” Eddie said as he turned to look at me. “Sweetheart, you should have seen it. Everything was plaid.”

I felt myself grimace as I tried to imagine it. “That would hurt my head.”

“Thank you!” Robin shouted from the backseat. “He didn’t believe me. You can thank his mom for that.”

“So it was his mom’s choice?”

“Uh, you’ll see when we get there. It is so minimally decorated, his parents are never home but refuse to let him change the house in any way.”

“So that’s what he meant about an empty house.” I said. “His parents just aren’t around?”

“Steve doesn’t like to talk about it.” Eddie said as he took a sharp turn and Robin shouted from the backseat. “Don’t say anything to him about it.”

“Sure,” I said, I would hate to offend Steve, he’s been nothing but kind to me. “Why aren’t they here?”

“Steve claims it’s because his dad works a lot and his mom follows so he can’t have affairs.” Robin started. “But I think once Steve feels like they realized he was a waste of their time they just stopped back here. His dad was pissed when he didn’t go off to school.”

“I know that feeling.” I said. I could almost feel the anger that my dad had the day I told him I wanted to take a break. Telling me that I was a disappointment, even when the man himself didn’t go to college. “I can see why he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“Well,” Eddie said as he turned into the driveway of a big house. “I guess the only thing rich, absent parents are good for is keeping this place paid for.”

From the window of the van, I couldn’t tell how big the house was inside but I could practically see the dark hallways that Steve had to trudge through day in and day out. Sometimes you could tell the vibe of a house from the condition of the outside; but just because it looked well taken care of, doesn’t mean the inside held any warmth.

taglist:@silky-luxe @disaster-in-waiting @sadbitchfangirl @welliguessiwritethingsnow @comboboo @tuttigunner @avalon-wolf

Thank you guys for all the support on the last few chapters! I am so excited for the path I have written for our two love birds. I have a lot planned, so stick around for the ride!

If you want to be added to the taglist, just leave a comment!

[i-used-to-wear-the-fedora]

Time in a Bottle, Steddie Fix-it AU

Eddie felt the way the bats dug into his sides and neck. Their teeth tearing at his flesh and ripping it away despite his struggles. The pain that came with it was indescribable as he felt the blood start to flow. It choked him. The teen gurgled as he drowned in his own blood. He tried to get away. Go back to Dustin and celebrate. He remembered the younger boy running over to him. Dustin panicked as he tried to stop the bleeding, but Eddie knew it didn't matter. He was going to die, but at least he'd die a hero.

"I didn't run this time." He remembered smiling as he said this. Coughing one last time as his vision blurred over and the darkness took him. He was dead, but Eddie was okay with that.

"-die! Come on, you're gonna be late for work!"

To Eddie's surprise, his eyes snapped open. His body sat straight up as he gasped for air. The teen flailed for a moment from the shock. Swatting at the air to fend off the swarm of demobats when he paused. He looked around to see he was no longer in the hellish landscape of the upside down, but instead, his bedroom. Eddie blinked away the confusion as his mind struggled to comprehend what was going on, especially since the last thing he remembered was dying a bloody, painful death.

"What the hell?" Eddie mumbled as he untangled himself from his bedsheets and got up. Looking over at the digital clock on his bedside table, Eddie saw it read nine fifty-two. June thirtieth. Eddie shook his head. There was no way the clock was right. And how the hell did he end up back home? A knock on his bedroom door made the teen jump. He quickly turned around to see the door opening as his uncle peered in. A semi annoyed look crossed Wayne's face as he saw the state of his nephew.

"Damn it, Eddie. You have a shift in," the man looked down at his watch, "eight minutes, and you're not even dressed yet? I thought you wanted to keep this job -" Wayne's scolding was cut off by the teen as Eddie practically ran into his uncle. Wrapping his arms around the older man's chest in probably the tightest hug he'd ever given someone. As far as he knew a few seconds ago, he'd never see his uncle's beautiful, grizzly face again. "Whoa, kid, easy there. You're gonna throw out my back again if you're not careful." This prompted Eddie to relent his grip on the man. He started to tear up as he wiped his face, much to his uncle's confusion. "Jesus kid, are you okay?"

"Y-yeah." Eddie barely bit back as he tried not to cry. "I just....just had a nightmare."

"Er, right." Wayne rubbed the back of his head awkwardly as he shuffled his feet. "Well, you get ready for work. I've got to head to the plant soon." Eddie nodded, the relief that flooded his system stopped for a moment as a question rose.

"Hey Wayne? What's the date?"

"June thirtieth."

"No, like the year." Eddie clarified. Wayne raised an eyebrow.

"Nineteen eighty-five." Eighty-five. A year before Vecna. If Vecna was even real. Was any of it real? There was no way he just imagined a whole year and a half of his life. It had all felt real. But...maybe that explained all the weird supernatural shit. It was just a really, really messed up nightmare. "You okay, Ed? Didn't hit your head or anything, did you?"

"No. I was just thinking. Be ready in a second." Wayne nodded as he left the room, closing the door behind him. Eddie ran over to his dresser mirror. The goth half expected to see some horrific vision to let him know he was still living out some strange nightmare. Instead, he was greeted by his normal reflection. No demobat bites or battle wounds. Just, normal Eddie. His hair was a little shorter and upon inspection, he found he didn't have his chest tattoos yet, but it was still him. Alive. He couldn't believe it. Slapping himself a few times revealed it wasn't, in fact, a dream as he could feel the stinging pain in his face. The confusion, the joy, the fear and so many other emotions ran through his mind as he walked over to his closet. Digging through the closet for the Tower Records shirt he remembered throwing away almost a year ago. The mall hadn't burnt down...yet.

'Yet? Come on, Eddie, that was just a dream.' He told himself as he slipped into the uniform, grabbing his lanyard that hung off the door handle with a renewed excitement after having his life flash before his eyes. This was his chance. His year.

[yunirgo]

last kiss (eddie's version)

rockstar!eddie x reader 

summary: you grieve your last kiss with eddie and miss the good moments with him

warnings: no warnings, just a little bit of angst

a/n: inspired by last kiss by taylor swift and the rerelease of her album speak now. btw english is not my first language so i apologize in advance if anything sounds weird or wonky lolz. hope you like it!! :D

wc: 0.8k

A small smile grew on your face as the kids’ laughter resounded through Steve’s living room. You weren’t even paying attention to the movie the party decided to watch tonight, but you felt warm by your friends’ presence, which would have been much better than the cold and loneliness of your bedroom. 

Another round of laughter made you look at the screen this time, but your attention on the tv was short-lived. 

“Oh, man! This was Eddie’s favorite scene. Wish he was here with us now,” The laughter stopped, and you tensed unconsciously, Dustin oblivious to his comment's effect on you. 

He yelped when Max pinched his arm while you tried to focus on the screen, except all of their eyes were on you. You shifted uncomfortably on the sofa and softly cleared your throat. 

“Sorry,” He apologized. 

“It’s okay,” It came out as almost a whisper. “How is he doing, by the way?” This time, you disconnected your eyes from the movie, looking over at your friends who stared back at you, trying to disguise the pity in their eyes.  

“He… He’s doing okay,” Dustin gifted you a gentle smile, which you reciprocated with a silent, painful sigh. Robin, who sat on your left, took your hand on hers and squeezed it faintly. 

It had been almost a year since Eddie left to follow his dreams in LA. He hadn’t even told you about the news until a day before he left his life in Hawkins behind. However, it still felt as if it was yesterday. Bringing up Eddie around you was like walking on eggshells, and although you tried to seem okay after all these months, it still hurt like a bitch. 

You tried to shake off the memories of that day from your mind by concentrating on the film, but it was useless. You sighed as you checked the time on your phone, tears starting to blur your vision. 

“I should get going,” You said, standing up from the couch. 

“What? We’re not even halfway through the movie,” Robin whined. 

“I know, but it’s getting late, and I have work tomorrow,” Steve and Robin shared a knowing look. They saw right through your lie. They didn’t say anything else except a soft “goodbye,” the kids repeated before you walked out the door. 

Once you got home and into your bedroom, you changed into a T-shirt you realized belonged to Eddie. After taking a deep breath at your reflection in the mirror, you sat on the floor by your bed and pulled a shoe box from under it. 

Tears instantly fell from your eyes at the pictures you’d taken together and the notes and letters he’d written to you through your friendship and relationship. You could remember every single one of those days and the happiness you felt by creating those memories with him. While digging through them, you came across your favorite pictures. He had insisted you take a selfie with the Polaroid camera he bought you one Christmas. His cheeks were pink, and his hair was messy. He kissed your cheek on one of them. You kissed his on the next one, and in the third picture, he kissed your lips. The last kiss he ever gave you because the next day, Eddie left you, and he could barely look you in the face as he bid you goodbye. 

A sob left your lips as you brought the picture to your chest, imagining it was him you hugged close to your heart. 

With the little strength you had at the moment, you stood up from the floor and lay in bed. 

You missed Eddie. You missed his hugs, the way he slow danced with you and rested his chin on your head. You missed when he’d kiss you while you were in the middle of saying something or when he kissed your cheek before going to work. 

You missed everything. His breathing, scent, the sound of his laugh and heartbeats, his touch. 

You missed Eddie. 

A notification from your phone made you take a deep breath. You glanced at the device, reading the app that popped on the screen. Your heart clenched as you realized the Instagram user on it: Corroded Coffin. After clicking on it, his beautiful brown eyes and messy brown hair appeared on your screen. 

Eddie’s toothy grin adorned his face while his bandmates stood behind him, imitating his expression. 

God, how you missed that smile. 

His smile made you smile back, but your tears started falling faster down your face the longer you admired him. 

Nothing would have ever prepared you to watch his life in pictures instead of living those moments with him. Or, sleeping alone instead of sleeping with your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeats and feeling his breathing.

And worse. 

Nothing could have prepared you to have his name on your lips and heart forever.

[berenwrites]

Beyond the Battle - Chapter 35 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Beyond the Battle­: Action & Consequence

Click here for All Posted Chapters

Summary: Steve hits things with a bat or gets hit depending on who you ask. He definitely does not have anything to do with the psychic stuff. That is El’s domain. However, as Vecna is defeated, the rules change.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Other Relationships: Steve & Robin, Steve & Dustin, Eddie & Dustin

Rating: Teen

A/N: Multi-chapter story, updated regularly. Honestly not sure how many chapters it will have yet because it's still a bit hand wavy in the middle, but definitely more than 12. Thank you to my beta for find my mistakes and to all those who read/like/reblog.💖 Follow #st:beyond-the-battle for updates.

Also on AO3

Chapter 35. Getting Up

“Fuck.”

The word was said very quietly, but Steve was alert in a heartbeat, nevertheless. He opened his eyes to find Eddie had turned in his embrace at some point during the night and he was looking at the top of Eddie’s delightfully messy curls. There was tension radiating from his boyfriend, so he knew Eddie was awake.

“You okay?” Steve asked quietly.

Eddie’s head came up slowly and dark eyes met his own. Even in the low light, Steve knew it was not a natural darkening of Eddie’s chocolate brown irises, and even as he looked there was the tiniest red glow.

“Ah,” he said, “I was wondering when that would happen.”

“How do you always take this so calmly?” Eddie asked.

Steve gave his boyfriend a small, but genuine smile, bringing his hand up to cup Eddie’s face.

“I understand why this scares you,” he whispered, making sure he conveyed his sincerity with his eyes since he couldn’t so it with his voice. “This is all new, what I can do scares me sometimes too. But nothing about you scares me. The opposite. God, if I hadn’t been so focused on the kids yesterday, when you took that guy out, I probably would have done something incredibly embarrassing.”

“You really have a thing for vampires, don’t you?” Eddie whispered back.

“Mostly I have a thing for you and that includes you being a vampire,” he replied honestly, because he was pretty sure he’d never thought about vampires twice until Eddie, “and I think we should take this to the bathroom before Robin wakes up and tries to stake both of us through the heart.”

“Steve, you’re supposed to be recovering,” Eddie pointed out.

“So are you,” he countered. “You seem to have about a two-day cycle, and you used your vampire abilities today for the first time for anything but feeding. You need blood and it won’t hurt me to give it. I’m still tired, yes, but I ate enough for a small army so my tanks are topped up, and we can sleep in.”

“You had that argument planned,” Eddie said.

“Yep,” Steve replied and gave his boyfriend another smile.

There was no point in denying it. It had occurred to him while they were eating earlier.

“Don’t expect to get the upper hand in this relationship all the time,” Eddie said and rolled out of bed.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Steve assured him, following along and slipping past Eddie into the bathroom.

As Eddie closed the door with a quiet click, Steve pulled the little chord on the light above the sink. The room brightened with the orange glow, picking out the details of the bath and shower behind him with deep shadows. It felt kind of ethereal. Perfect for the moment as he stared into the mirror.

“I can’t believe how pretty you are either,” Eddie said in a teasing tone, meeting his eyes in the reflection over his shoulder.

He replied with a small smile, but his mind was rushing too far ahead to really react to the joke.

“I want to watch as you bite me,” he said, holding Eddie’s dark eyed gaze.

A flicker of anxiety flew across Eddie’s face, crinkling his forehead for a moment.

“Why?” was the quiet question.

“Because you’re beautiful and I want to see it all,” Steve replied without hesitation.

The atmosphere in the room was charged. Eddie’s confession of a few hours previously was still so fresh in both their minds, it was obvious. Steve wanted him to understand how much he had meant it when he had said Eddie was not a monster. He did not find any part of this monstrous. He had been perfectly sincere when he said It did the opposite of frighten him. He needed Eddie to see it too.

“Like this?” Eddie asked, moving in close behind him.

One of Eddie’s arms came around his waist, pulling him flush to Eddie’s body. The other curled around his shoulder as Eddie’s right hand stroked over his chest, fingers splaying out as they traced a path up his neck. He could feel the strength in Eddie’s touch, remembering very clearly how he had seen it in action the previous day.

At times Eddie was just a human being. At other times, he was not.

The knowledge filled Steve with excitement.

“Yes,” he said when Eddie waited for his reply.

Those fingers on his throat gently urged his head to the side and he obeyed, even as he kept his eyes fixed on Eddie in the mirror. His cock twitched in his sleep pants at the controlling touch.

“All for me?” Eddie whispered into his ear.

“All for you,” he agreed, watching Eddie’s eye glow red in the low light.

Eddie made a show of opening his mouth so Steve could clearly see his pearly white fangs. They were long and pointed and gave Eddie a dangerous air that made Steve shiver inside. It wasn’t fear. Nothing could make him afraid of Eddie. It was pure excitement.

He bit his lip as the tip of those fangs touched his skin. Just the tiniest touch, like two pins, as Eddie showed just how much control he had.

Steve’s cock throbbed and he breathed noisily through his nose, trapped in the delicious moment. The whimper that escaped him as Eddie finally bit was completely involuntary. About all he could do was keep it small, so it didn’t wake Robin in the other room. The points of pain lit up his nerves like static electricity and he surrendered to it.

Eddie’s eyes fluttered closed as his lips fastened to Steve’s neck, but Steve couldn’t look away. As that beautiful mouth attached to his neck, pleasure flooded through his system, and he stared. Such wanton noises stacked up in his throat, only held back by his own teeth digging into his bottom lip. One day, one day soon he wanted more than Eddie’s fangs sinking into him. He was hungry for it, his cock throbbing to the beat of his heart at the very thought.

His legs felt weak, Eddie’s strong arms keeping him in place and helping him stand. After only moments, he had to release his lower lip so he could pant out the overwhelming pleasure and need flooding through him. Every sensation seemed heightened. The touch of Eddie’s tongue on his skin as Eddie drank. The seal of Eddie’s lips against his neck. It made his heartbeat thud in his ears and his cock throb mercilessly.

Then Eddie looked up at him.

His breath caught in his throat. Eddie’s whole iris was red and glowing from within. All the black was gone, and Steve felt like he had been caught. If the initial bite had been like static, now it was like being connected to the mains. His whole world narrowed to Eddie.

A tiny, still functioning part of his mind likened it to connecting with El or Will, but this had nothing to do with healing, or even simply communicating. This was much more primal. Raw need met raw pleasure and blew his mind. For seconds or hours, he had no way of telling which, nothing except Eddie existed. Eddie and overwhelming bliss.

He came back to himself breathing hard and shaking, on the tail end of an earth-shattering orgasm. He felt kind of floaty.

“Holy fuck,” was about the only response that seemed adequate as he clung to the sink and Eddie clung to him.

Eddie’s face was buried in his neck, and he could feel his boyfriend shaking as well.

“What the hell was that?” Eddie asked quietly, without lifting his head.

“Amazing,” Steve said as his brain completely failed to provide anything useful.

“You … me …” Eddie said, apparently trying to articulate something.

“I know,” Steve replied, because he couldn’t explain it either.

“Fuck, I came in my pants,” Eddie confessed, finally meeting his eyes in the mirror.

“You think I didn’t?” Steve said, and he couldn’t help it as a smile burst across his face.

He also couldn’t help the small laugh that went with it. This was going to take some thinking about, some analysing between them, because it wasn’t exactly something he felt comfortable talking to El about, but he felt so good it was hard to focus on that part. He’d just come without anything remotely touching his cock and it had been possibly the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life. It was both amazing and utterly ridiculous. Laughing seemed like a reasonable reaction.

When he noticed that his neck was also completely healed and realised he hadn’t remotely been aware of doing it, that tipped him over the edge. He sniggered quietly, slowly sliding down against the sink because his legs felt like jelly.

“Are you okay?” Eddie asked, sounding slightly worried, but sitting down next to him.

“God yes,” he replied, “I’m great. Are we both high?”

“Yeah, think so,” Eddie said.

Steve sniggered again, doing his very best not to be too loud. If they woke Robin, she would probably kill them. If they woke anyone else, they would have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.

~*~

Steve wandered into the kitchen at what was nearly lunchtime, only mostly awake. He and Eddie had made it back to bed eventually, and they were going to have to talk about what happened, but he hadn’t woken up enough for thinking about that yet. He was halfway through a yawn when another, smaller body slammed into his own.

“Steve,” El greeted, enveloping him in a hug.

“Morning, El,” he replied, hugging her back.

She beamed at him as she drew back.

“Sleep well?” he asked.

“Very well,” she replied. “Will and I have only just woken up also, and your mom is making waffles.”

Steve looked over at his mother and blinked in surprise. Buying in breakfast and taking people out to breakfast were things his mom did, making breakfast not so much, at least not since he was small.

“Thought I would dust off my waffles supreme,” his mom said, giving him a smile over her shoulder.

He grinned back. Now those he remembered. They had been reserved for birthdays when he was under ten, before the tradition had changed to going out to eat as he was deemed old enough.

“Can I help?” he asked.

“No thank you, darling, you just go and sit down,” his mom said, turning back to what she was doing. “The first batch should be ready in a minute. Will Eddie and Robin be joining us as well?”

“If they ever stop arguing over who gets to use the bathroom next, then yep,” he replied, letting El lead him towards the table. “I mentioned the main bathroom, but I think it’s the principle of the thing by this point.”

“Well, we all need principles,” his mom replied with a laugh.

“Hey,” Will said, as Steve sat down on one of the kitchen chairs.

Steve gave him a little wave as another yawn deprived him of his voice.

“Sorry,” he apologised, “it’s really hard to wake up today.”

“It is often like that for me when I have pushed my powers too hard,” El said. “It was much easier to wake up today though, Steve, thank you.”

“My pleasure,” he replied with a smile. “Now if I can just figure out how to do the same for me.”

“More practice?” Will suggested.

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“But not today,” his mom said, placing a plate full of waffles down on the table, along with a plate of fruit and other delicious things.

“Oh, definitely not today,” he said around another yawn.

He was not mentioning his and Eddie’s early-morning escapade to anyone, especially his mother.

“I spoke to Max on the phone,” El said with a delighted smile. “She is home and very annoyed to have missed all the adventures.”

“I for one am very glad she did,” Steve replied, “but don’t tell her I said that.”

El grinned at him.

“I am too,” she said, “but I will not mention that either.”

“Eat up before they get cold,” his mom said as she produced a can of cream as well. “There’s plenty more where that came from.”

“Dad says we can go and see Max this afternoon,” El continued to talk as she loaded her plate. “Did you want to come?”

“Not really sure I’ll be awake enough,” Steve replied, “but give her my love and tell her I can’t wait to see her now she’s free.”

“She’ll probably head over here the moment her mom lets her out of her sight,” Will commented.

“I’m gonna need to go shopping again,” Steve decided as he set about filling all the divots in his waffle with syrup before eyeing up the cream.

It was probably going to be way too sweet for his adult palate, but he hadn’t had this since he was ten and he was going for nostalgia.

“What are you doing?” Will asked as he carefully added sliced strawberries to his creation in a very specific pattern.

“You do not get to criticize, Mr I-just-loaded-my-waffle-with-chocolate-chips,” he replied, giving Will a pointed look.

“Is that a face?” El asked.

“It will be,” he said, grabbing a couple of blueberries.

“King Waffle lives again,” his mom said.

“May his reign be bountiful,” he filled in for what his dad always used to say.

“But short,” his mom finished, and Steve dived in with his fork, laughing as he did.

El giggled as Steve shovelled a large piece of King Waffle into his mouth, getting cream all over his chin. She appeared to take great pleasure in following suit. It was great to feel like a kid again, just for a while.

End of Chapter 35

Chapter 36

[hellxfireclub-archived]

dustin tag dump

[peakyblinders1919]

Haddie Harrington Pt 6

|part 1| |part 2| |part 3| |part 4| part 5 |

The last thing Steve thought he’d be doing was getting advice from Dustin. It was moments like this that he remembered, he held so dear to him when he was away. That drove him back. Taking Dustin to his first school dance, giving him girl advice… King Steve never thought he’d be spending his Saturday nights that way. Now, Daddy Steve never imagined El and Will would be coloring with Haddie or Dustin and Max would be giving him advice on what to wear.

He swatted Dustin’s hand away. “Come on man, what have I said about my hair?”

He looked at his friends gaze in the reflection of the mirror, frozen for a second. “Don’t touch it?”

“Yeah, don’t touch it.”

“Jeez, I guess things haven’t changed at all.”

Steve might agree, giving his Farrah Faucet can a spray to lock his brown strands in place, but a 5’7” tall Dustin stood in front of him, something the size and weight of a brick in his pocket he called a phone, telling him to ditch the varsity jacket from high school and wear the white button up. 

“What do you think?” Steve asked after holding out his arms and approving of the reflection that looked back at him. He couldn’t believe he was so nervous, seeming to have lost all the cool, calm, and collectedness he always had. 

“You look like a din… a dad.” Dustin said once he’d read Steve’s expression suggesting he say something nice or say nothing at all. 

Though it was true, he didn’t need the constant reminder of how much had changed, the constant reminder of how much he’d missed, gazing out the window at the beat-up hand-me-down station wagon in his driveway, Sinclair’s keys next to his own in the bowl in the foyer. 

“Don’t you have like…  a paper to write or something?” Suddenly the company seemed less than helpful, eating away at the time he had to prepare for his date with you. 

Dustin mocked him and the others were shouting from downstairs that they were going to be late for the movie and really all that had changed was that they were all a little taller, a little older, maybe a little wiser. 

And you were missing.

“Hey, once this is over, assuming you don’t mess it up, Y/N will be able to hang with all of us again, right?”

“I’m not going to mess it up Henderson. I can’t.”

He wouldn’t. He knew what would be the consequence if he did; every what if he’d dreamed about, every happy ending he ever pictured, would remain a fairytale. It would all have been for nothing. Moving out of Hawkins, moving back, living.

Saying goodbye to the crew as they drove back to campus to cram at the library or otherwise do whatever it is college kids did these days, he buckled Haddie up and let the car and the road take him to you.

His gaze shifted from Haddie to you; standing at the door was summer and fall and every season, perhaps his world all squeezed into a plaid skirt and warm cardigan, radiating warmth from her smile, her greetings. 

Though you tried to ignore it, heat rose to your cheeks when after greeting the others you stood, chest to chest and nearly nose to nose with Steve.

“Good morning Mr. Harr… Steve.” Making yourself look busy tucking another stray hair behind your ear, was it obvious how nervous you were? Were you supposed to call him by his formal surname like you did with all the other students’ parents? Were you supposed to treat him like the friend you knew, the friend you hoped he still was?

“Good morning Miss Y/N,” he said, sickly sweet, a student trying to butter you up. And it might have worked, if only.

“Good morning Haddie. Nice outfit today, let me guess, you dressed yourself?”

She nodded proudly, quickly informing you though that Max and El helped with the bows in her pigtails. Your face fell, picturing what the morning must have looked like at the Harrington household, different now that you assumed you knew Steve well enough that he wasn’t living in that big box he was forced to call a house all those years ago, the kids lining up for a home-cooked breakfast rather than cold eggs from the college cafeteria, the girls helping Haddie get ready because god knows she needed someone to help style that hair of hers. Not that Steve was incompetent, in fact, the opposite, as he left little to no time to help her after his own hair was done.

“Miss Y/N, are you okay?” 

“Of course! I’m just so speechless you look so beautiful today. Why don’t you go get ready with your crayons?”

“Sorry about that-”

“It’s fine.” You lied, lips pursed and tight. She was a child, she didn’t know any better. Didn’t know that you felt left out, didn’t know that it not only bothered you but you wanted to know why.

“So.. I'll see you later tonight Miss. Y/N?”

His voice pulled you from your thoughts, helping perk you up a bit at the mention of his words and all that was insinuated underneath. It seemed everyone had grown comfortable over the weeks they’d been here; Haddie took herself inside and unpacked her backpack all alone and Steve with the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up to his elbows, radiating pure confidence, head dipped and lips smiling as he pushed slightly into your space. Maybe it was all the hairspray going to his head (you couldn’t forget the smell of it, nor how he used it to get that piece or two to curl and fall too perfectly from its place and into his eye) or the fact that he was back playing on his home turf. Or maybe it was the fact that you had said yes to the date.

You hoped to get answers tonight rather than get led on. 

“Later tonight Steve.”

___

Normally you’d be glad to see him early, finding you lived off of you and Steve’s interactions more and more, but you’d had to call him at work, make him leave early and drive across town, and meet with you now. 

“Is everything alright?” Where to start. You didn’t know where to start. Not once had you been brought to silence in front of parents, but Steve wasn’t just a parent, he was so much more. Maybe it was the chewing on your bottom lip- your tell- that gave it away. Reaching across the kidney table, he took your hand in his, rubbed his thumb soothingly across the soft back of your hand. It instantly made you meet his eyes, your whole life flashing in the serene calm of the dark abyss. All the touches, all the secrets, all the shared experiences and memories, some crammed in a box in your closet, polaroids and other knick-knacks like his RayBans he left at your house once (you were convinced it was purposeful on his part, and he never asked for them back, just bought a new pair) and times he had comforted you and you him, and times you had nearly called him home, and all the times you claimed you were just friends and all the what ifs and all the why nots.

There was no easy way to tell him it, so suddenly, comfortably, you just let it out.

“There was an incident at recess today. Haddie was drawing with chalk-” the fact that the red, gold, and purple squiggles slightly resembled a decapitated dragon something you were sure to bring up later, “and some older boys starting making fun of her and… well… she hit them with a bat.”

“She what?”

“She hit them with a wiffle ball bat Steve.” Suddenly, for the first time in a long time, you saw him sweat, saw the tension building, felt the tension building when you reached across the table to offer him some calm and figured out the best way to approach this was the same way a younger you and Steve approached everything when it came to your past, the Upside down. Humor. “Wonder where she learned that from?”

He confirmed your suspicions with a nod of his hair, not a single hair out of place until he raked his hands through it, still a bit shocked as to the nature of this meeting. 

Tilting your head, you remained silent to let him process it all, and still neither of you pulled back, hands still clasped across the paint smeared table. 

“I thought your monster fighting days were over Steve,” you said it so genuinely, so soft and so raw it pulled him from his thoughts to look at you. His lips nearly twitched into a smile before he finally pulled free, what started as to comfort you turning to comfort him until he found it easier to mess up those curls again, anxiously pushing at the long locks. 

“I’ll always be fighting monsters,” he chuckled though nothing was funny, “Her monsters. The ones uder the bed, bullies-” he sighed. You couldn’t possibly understand, could you? Maybe that was a naive thought on his end, where he had one daughter to love and take care of for the rest of her days, you had 25.

“Seems like she knows how to fight them herself. Whether she learned those bat-weilding skills from you directly or not, maybe I’d rather not know. But look, I can’t let her do that here, you understand. And the boys’ parents, I don’t think they’re going to be as understanding.”

“Are you saying she’s getting kicked out? I… I.. don’t have any other childcare, unless you count that twerp Dustin as a reliable babysitter now,” he chuckled again, though this time it sounded anxious and perhaps there was some humor hidden behind it, humor at the crumbling situation he found himself in the middle of.

“No, Steve, she’s not getting kicked out. I would never do that to you.” The words left a stinging feeling in your chest, licking your lips in order to continue. “I would never do that to her. She loves it here, she’s very bright. I think you should take her home for the day, talk to her, maybe keep her home tomorrow, I’ll talk to the boys’ parents, and I’ll make sure to hide the bats here if you do.” 

He nodded, watching the tense roll off his shoulders, until he looked back at you stricken with panic.

“But what about our parent-teacher conference and-”

“I think this is a conference enough.” 

“Our date.” Once hopeful eyes turned stormy, misty at the suggestion it wasn’t going to happen. 

He wanted it as much as you did, confirmed by his eyes, his voice, his touch.

“Meet me at the coffee shop at 7.”

I don't know if anyone's still interested in this but here ya go! I'm going to make it my goal to finish this series once and for all

[heylookliisten]

eddie would spend an absurd amount of time stressing over asking you to prom

you and eddie started talking after you graduated. your mid semester break in college had started and you decided to drive back home. your car broke down halfway and you had to walk a few miles to the nearest place which happened to be the hideout. you spot eddie playing pool with a few other guys and you swallowed your nerves before going up and asking if he could help you. eddie was a little shocked, the person he regretted not getting to know in school suddenly showing up and needing his aide? maybe dreams do come true. eddie offered to drive to your car and take a look at it. ever since then the two of you were inseparable.

he never wanted to go before but there was something about you that was slowly changing his mind. being a college student, eddie wouldn’t wrap his head around the idea you’d want to go to some cliché high school event. this was past your time and you probably had better things to do than go to prom with the so-called freak. still, the opportunity to see you dressed up was enough to make him at least try. for weeks he would practice in his mirror, growing irritated as he wondered how he can write songs and campaigns but can’t find a good way to ask you out. there were several times when you hung out he tried to ask but quickly changed the subject after one look from you. he wrote down several ways to ask you all over his notebooks, slamming them shut whenever dustin would ask what he was writing so frantically about. eventually eddie gets frustrated and blushes profusely when he confides in dustin about his dilemma.

cue dustin roping steve into giving eddie relationship advice. sure, steve may have not had the best track record but dustin assured eddie he was the man to turn to. eddie gushes about you to the two and over the next week they finalize a plan of action.

eddie had asked you to come with him on a late night drive, the two of you ending up at lovers lake. he’s playing a softer mixtape, turning the music up so it can easily be heard as you watch the moon and stars reflect on the water. his palms are sweaty and he can feel his heart racing as he looks over at you, seeing how beautiful you look under the moonlight and a soft smile on your face. he clears his throat and asks if you’d like to dance when the song changes. he sees your smile grows as you accept, taking his hand in yours and placing the other on his shoulder. you sway softly to the music and eddie pulls you closer. you move to rest your head on his chest, chuckling before you voice that this is what you think prom would have been like. eddie is a little confused and you clarify that you never went to yours which gives him the perfect opportunity to ask. it takes every ounce of courage for him to ask if you’d like to go to his. you pull back a little stunned which causes eddie to ramble, nervously saying you don’t have to and he didn’t really want to go but if he were to go it would be with you. he’s too busy battling with his own thoughts to hear you calling his name so you do the only logical thing you can think of and shut him up with a kiss.

he looks at you with wide eyes as you look at him with such adoration he didn’t think he was deserving of. you tell him what an honor it would be to be his date and before you know it he’s grinning and pulling you into another kiss

[agentrouka-blog]

Do you think Ned ensuring Lady made it to Winterfell will be mirrored by Sansa securing Ned’s bones, and having them properly buried in the crypts? 🤔

I don't know!

It would be a proper mirror to how Arya is likely to reunite with the "remains" of Catelyn after her death, and it would be a nice mirror to her confrontation with his severed head.

(Some quotes and Ned/Cat-related speculation under the cut.)

She turned that way, and saw only the city, streets and alleys and hills and bottoms and more streets and more alleys and the stone of distant walls. Yet she knew that beyond them was open country, farms and fields and forests, and beyond that, north and north and north again, stood Winterfell.

“What are you looking at?” Joffrey said. “This is what I wanted you to see, right here.”

A thick stone parapet protected the outer edge of the rampart, reaching as high as Sansa’s chin, with crenellations cut into it every five feet for archers. The heads were mounted between the crenels, along the top of the wall, impaled on iron spikes so they faced out over the city. Sansa had noted them the moment she’d stepped out onto the wallwalk, but the river and the bustling streets and the setting sun were ever so much prettier. He can make me look at the heads, she told herself, but he can’t make me see them.

“This one is your father,” he said. “This one here. Dog, turn it around so she can see him.”

Sandor Clegane took the head by the hair and turned it. The severed head had been dipped in tar to preserve it longer. Sansa looked at it calmly, not seeing it at all. It did not really look like Lord Eddard, she thought; it did not even look real. “How long do I have to look?” (AGOT, Sansa VI)

(This passage, btw, has a lot of language mirrors to Bran's coma dream.)

The heavy-handed foreshadowing that she will return to Winterfell is directly connected to Ned’s “bones”. So is her defiance, and her self-sacrificial rage.

Barbrey is lurking and wants to serve Ned’s bones to her dogs, just as she helped serve Jeyne Poole as “Arya” to Ramsay, who had come the same way through the Neck. Jeyne Poole escapes. So will the bones, I wager.

If Arya is the one to give Catelyn peace, after Nymeria recovered her desecrated body, then it would make sense for Sansa to be the one to collect Ned’s bones from their enemies and help them complete the journey home.

But I kind of also like a competing scenario.

His regency would be a short one, he reflected as the wax softened. The new king would choose his own Hand. Ned would be free to go home. The thought of Winterfell brought a wan smile to his face. He wanted to hear Bran's laughter once more, to go hawking with Robb, to watch Rickon at play. He wanted to drift off to a dreamless sleep in his own bed with his arms wrapped tight around his lady, Catelyn. (AGOT, Eddard XIII)

Which mirrors...

They had dressed the bones in Ned's surcoat, the fine white velvet with the direwolf badge over the heart, but nothing remained of the warm flesh that had pillowed her head so many nights, the arms that had held her. The head had been rejoined to the body with fine silver wire, but one skull looks much like another, and in those empty hollows she found no trace of her lord's dark grey eyes, eyes that could be soft as a fog or hard as stone. They gave his eyes to crows, she remembered. (ACOK, Catelyn V)

Both long for each other’s embrace. In theory, they could reunite in death.

I wonder if there is going to be some kind of compromise, if Catelyn and Ned will reunite in death, in a way that doesn’t privilege one tradition over the other.

Let the kings of winter have their cold crypt under the earth, Catelyn thought. The Tullys drew their strength from the river, and it was to the river they returned when their lives had run their course. (ASOS, Catelyn IV)     

Either Catelyn is given a proper Tully burial to make up for the horrible mockery commited by the Freys, or she will sacrifice her tradition - and Ned as well - and both will have something different - ancient - together.

There’s an interesting conversation happening in the crypts between Ned and Robert.

"She was a Stark of Winterfell," Ned said quietly. "This is her place."

"She should be on a hill somewhere, under a fruit tree, with the sun and clouds above her and the rain to wash her clean." (AGOT, Eddard I)

Later again, they talk in another graveyard, the barrowlands - Barbrey Dustin’s lands - amid the ancient graves of the Barrow Kings.

The rising sun sent fingers of light through the pale white mists of dawn. A wide plain spread out beneath them, bare and brown, its flatness here and there relieved by long, low hummocks. Ned pointed them out to his king. "The barrows of the First Men."

Robert frowned. "Have we ridden onto a graveyard?"

"There are barrows everywhere in the north, Your Grace," Ned told him. "This land is old." (...)

He belonged in Winterfell. He belonged with Catelyn in her grief, and with Bran.

A man could not always be where he belonged, though. Resigned, Eddard Stark put his boots into his horse and set off after the king. (AGOT, Eddard II)

The barrows are older than Winterfell’s crypts. A tradition of the first men.

And interestingly enough, there is this:

"Catelyn Tully dispatched Lord Eddard's bones north before the Red Wedding, but your iron uncle seized Moat Cailin and closed the way. I have been watching ever since. Should those bones ever emerge from the swamps, they will get no farther than Barrowton." She threw one last lingering look at the likeness of Eddard Stark. "We are done here." (ADWD, The Turncloak)

I am torn.

If Ned and Cat are to be reunited in death, it cannot be in the crypts, because that would unfairly privilege Ned’s traditions. Cat has made it clear she values her own, as she should.

So it’s either something completely new for both of them, or it’s separate burials. But don’t ask me how or why. Maybe the crypts are going through remodelling. Something.

Thoughts, anyone?

[oflgtfol]

perfect machine is a sinister song on it’s own but i guess the main reason why i'm convinced it’s so truly evil is mostly because it is immediately followed up by telekinetic. so maybe if you look at perfect machine in isolation, you can make the case that it isn’t about an abuser, but is just about someone who’s like self-loathing and self-sabotaging their relationships, which is a lot more uhm. lenient of an interpretation

but considering how story-driven divisions is - even moreso than transmissions or vessels, since each song on divisions directly ties into the next via a linear narrative - i don’t think that the perfect machine/telekinetic duo is an accident, and so i don’t think you really can listen to perfect machine in isolation, otherwise you won’t get the full picture

perfect machine immediately opens with these lyrics:

Show me your insides, show me your secrets Show me what you desire - I can fake it Show what you wanted, so I can be it And if I bend just right, I can make it I didn't want you I wanna watch you change from a butterfly and into chains

this whole verse is about the speaker manipulating someone into believing that they're someone they aren't. they're lulling their partner into a false sense of security by using their own desires against them. and the main reason that this doesn't strike me as some sort of self-loathing "i'm not who i say i am, wahh i'm not a good person, i manipulate everyone i love into loving me back wahhh" type thing is because of that last line - they didn't want this person, they just wanted to control them. this isn't about self-loathing and wanting to be loved back, this is about control and the manipulation it takes in order to have that control.

and then the first chorus emphasizes this further:

Lay your heart into my perfect machine I will show you what you wanted to see Just a mirror till I get what I need The reverie was not of me You never saw nothing Never saw nothing

the speaker presents an idealized, fake version of themself, a mirror reflecting their victim's desires. and they only do this for their OWN desires - "till i get what i need." and ultimately, this fake version of themself is nothing like who they actually are. it was a mirage, a reverie, a dream. there was nothing genuine behind it - "you never saw nothing."

verse 2 offers something pretty notable which will come up again later in this post:

I should've let you know, you should've ran for cover I'm just a parlor trick, a two-bit counterfeit

these two lines highlight the harm that this person is doing. "you should've ran for cover" as in, this was something to run away from. there is an actual danger in this situation and because the person didn't actually run away, there is actual harm being done.

and the second line here is really interesting. the words "parlor trick" and "counterfeit" serve to continuously demonstrate how the speaker is putting up an act - continuously builds up the idea of this fake persona, this LIE. and keep the use of the word "counterfeit" here in the back of your mind.

i'd also like to draw attention to the tone of the song in general. it is very dark - a lot of starset songs typically have very high choruses, between how high dustin sings and just the general rise in volume/intensity/emotions. but instead, this chorus is very relatively chilled out. in fact, there is no real "high" point in the song at all - rather, it is a slow crescendo that builds in intensity over time. that makes it feel very subdued, and the buildup almost seems to creep up on you - like, it hides itself until the last minute. just like the speaker does. additionally, the song sounds so dark because the main instruments are very deep synths, and dustin sings in a lower register than he typically does. and as the song grows louder and more intense, those heavy droning guitars join the mix. all in all, it all comes together to create a mounting sense of dread and unease. there is no "high" point, there is no hope or happiness, just this slow crawl of danger that steadily builds...

... and eventually leads into telekinetic.

the very first verse of telekinetic literally starts with the word "fake," immediately after a whole song about faking a persona. the rest of the verse goes like this:

I'm just a puppet in your play You pull the strings and I obey High, that oxytocin hit me just right there It's counterfeit Zombie, zombie, could it be a hex? Got me, got me, you took another victim Mercy, mercy, put me in check With your hands wrapped 'round my neck

now the reason i truly, honestly, cannot hear this song as anything but an extension of perfect machine is well, because of the "Fake" opening, but most importantly, because of the use of the word COUNTERFEIT. it is such a weird word, and to my knowledge starset has never used it any other song before. so the fact that it is in these two songs specifically, and they're played back-to-back, and follow a similar narrative? they are absolutely connected.

perfect machine is from the perspective of the abuser - the person who is manipulating their partner, who seeks control - and telekinetic is from the perspective of the victim - the person who is realizing the extent to which they have been controlled.

that entire first verse is just expressing that sentiment in various ways. puppets, zombies, hexes all speak to being controlled and manipulated, and ultimately, the very visceral and physically violent image of being choked out by hands around their neck. nevermind the fact that they literally refer to themself as a victim.

and then the chorus continues that violence:

I can't breathe at the thought of you It's a telekinetic issue Set me free, I've been caught in you Overcome with a heartsick voodoo

"I can't breathe" referencing the physical choking, but also the fact that they're being choked just at the mere THOUGHT of the person. hence, telekinetic - like they're being choked, regardless of whether or not they have physical hands around their neck.

and the phrase "heartsick voodoo" is another reference to puppeteering, but i also can't help but think of it as another callback to perfect machine - heartsick voodoo, like perfect machine's "lay your heart into my perfect machine."

likewise, while the main melody of perfect machine is very low contrast between the chorus and the verses, telekinetic is the exact opposite. the verses are quiet and deep, while the choruses go so absolutely high register and wild and loud. it wildly oscillates between these two different sounds - just by sound alone, the music itself makes the speaker sound like they're in distress. and then, of course, the breakdown where dustin screams:

I fell for this lie Serotonin I'm coming down from this high A puppet inside and you're the reason You take my control Mind, body and soul In this lie

all this in comparison to perfect machine, with very level and low-contrast sounds, the steady buildup. perfect machine's sound is so level-headed and deliberate, as opposed to the highly volatile and emotional telekinetic. like a victim in distress, vs. a predator in full control.

in summary: telekinetic is 100% about an abusive relationship. and it must be connected to perfect machine, given the level of care that starset puts into their storytelling in general, but especially the storytelling in divisions as an album. there's no way it's a coincidence that these two songs were placed next to each other and have lyrics that parallel each other and narratives that complement each other

and so, while perfect machine as it's own song doesn't have too many violent lyrics, it's placement with telekinetic casts it in an absolutely chilling light

[platypanthewriter]

Hook Possum 2/4

Art by @monsdasarah​ for Harringrove Big Bang!

CHAPTER ONE

After dinner, Jonathan Byers got out his guitar, and started teaching them camp songs.  Steve resigned himself to weeks of Kum-ba-ya stuck in his head, but they heard a weird grinding, crunching noise in the distance, and Robin whispered “I think that came from the cemetery,” just to freak everyone out.

“The cemetery?!” a boy yelped, and Jonathan started playing The Bell Witch, because he was just as awful as Robin was.

 “Little Betsy, the age of 12/Living in a dream, the first one to scream,” he sang, and Steve groaned into his hands.

“Invisible hands/Leaving their mark in the dark

Night after night/The Bell Witch attacked and attacked

Torturing Betsy/Until a circle was held in candle light.”

 The littlest kids started climbing right up on Hook Possum.  The air filled with stories of the Bell Witch, and how she could travel, she could be anywhere, and how the bathrooms at Camp Butternut Springs were always cold.  

“They’re haunted,” Robin said, and Steve elbowed her, growling.

The bathrooms were always cold, because they were poured cement set in the hill, and the cabins warmer, because they were up the hill where they got some sun, and built of wood.  Steve tried to explain it every year, but every year the kids all started running around and shrieking about the goddamn Bell Witch.  The littlest kids asked Hook Possum to go with them to the toilets as it got dark.

Even Robin ‘Oh, that’s haunted’ Buckley took mercy, and didn’t tell them the local ghost stories.  Yet, anyway, Steve thought.  A small mercy. 

When Steve found a kid crying outside the bathrooms after playing the mirror game—they stared in and said I hate the Bell Witch, over and over, watching until their faces looked creepy and distorted in the low, flickering light—Steve sat down on the ground and patted his little sobbing shoulder, and sighed.

“Look,” he said, “—there’s only one ghost around here, Hook Possum.  Hook Possum is the ghost of possums who get hit by reckless drivers.  The Bell Witch isn’t here, because of Hook Possum, okay?”

“I s-saw s-something,” the kid wailed, clinging to Steve’s arm, and Steve pulled his sobbing hanger-on back to the fire.

“Hook Possum’s our local cryptid,” Dustin was saying, and then he had to explain to the younger kids what a cryptid was.  “Like Bigfoot,” he said, “—or the Loch Ness Monster.  Or the Pope Lick Goat Man.”

“...the what?!” Hook Possum asked, startled, and Dustin’s chest swelled with excitement as his grin widened.  

“The Pope Lick Goat Man,” Dustin breathed, “—was originally a farmer, who sacrificed his goats and who knows what else to Satan.”

“Dustin,” Steve sighed, as the story brought more kids around the fire.  

“He was reborn as a twisted goat man,” Dustin said over him, because Dustin wouldn’t have any frantic children banging on the door of his cabin at two am.  Dustin continued with relish.  “He lives under the train trestles of Pope Lick Creek, mimicking the voices of dead loved ones to lure people into the path of the train.  There have been so many deaths it’s illegal to go near there,” Dustin whispered, to his rapt audience of a bunch of children who were definitely gonna be too scared to go to the toilets that night, and they’d probably wet their beds.

“Dustin, come on,” Steve groaned.

“The trestle is over 750 feet long, and it’s a 90 foot drop,” Will Byers added, and Steve smacked his face into his hands, because he hadn’t expected that epic betrayal.  

“When the train comes, there’s nowhere to go,” Dustin continued, with relish.  “It’s said he’s so terrifying people leap to their deaths at the sight of him, even if there’s no oncoming train.  Ninety feet down into Pope Lick Creek.  That’s like jumping off an eight-story building.”

The kids gasped, and Steve pinched the bridge of his nose as Robin stepped in, grinning evilly.

“He’s been known to jump down from the trestle himself, to attack cars underneath with an axe,” she said.

“Augh!” squeaked one little boy, and the kid Steve had rescued from the Bell Witch mirror game clung tighter to Hook Possum, sniffling.

“Hook Possum has a hook,” Robin told the squeaking kid, once Steve elbowed her hard in the gut, again.  The kid did not look reassured.  “—and the Goat Man lives in Kentucky, over a hundred miles away.”

“Hook Possum jumps on cars too,” Dustin said cheerfully, and Hook Possum said “Wait, what,” again, as Dustin climbed up on one of the logs around the fire, holding his finger like a hook.

“Hook Possum is the vengeful spirit of possums killed by reckless drivers,” Robin explained—far from helping—and started telling tales of drivers stopping to pick up hitchhikers that turned into massive, man-sized hissing possums in the passenger seat of their car.

“One account is weirder, because the guy was super drunk,” she whispered, leaning in, and the kids listened, riveted.  “He picked up a hitchhiker, but when he looked in the backseat, it was just a coat around a fleet of possums,” she said with relish.  “They climbed all over him, scratching and biting—”

“I’m a ghost story?” asked Hook Possum, and Steve spun in place to see him half-shadowed in the light of the fire, the flames glinting off his molded teeth, his empty mesh eyes skull-like.

“Uh,” he said, giving an involuntary shudder.  “Yeah.  Didn’t you know?”

“Don’t let anything get me,” the kid Steve had rescued from the bathroom sobbed, throwing both arms around Hook Possum, and Hook Possum patted their hair.  

“I want real ghost stories,” said one of the kids around the fire, and Hook Possum breathed “You don’t think I’m real, kid?” with a little possum-y hiss in his voice, his silvery plastic hook reflecting the firelight, and the kid yelped.  “I’m scarier than anything else out there,” he growled, and Steve, in all honesty, had to agree.  The kid blinked huge eyes, and Hook Possum patted their head again, clumsily, nearly poking them in the eye as they giggled.  

Steve groaned, smiling, and wondered if Hook Possum knew what he was letting himself in for.  

That night, he patrolled by a cabin of boys talking about two travellers whose car was attacked by metallic thumps, and sure enough, the kids who’d been playing the mirror game and scaring the shit out of themselves all came and banged on the counsellor cabin door shrieking that they’d seen red lights in the woods, and demanded Hook Possum, who ended up costuming back up in the dark.  

Steve helped tie the costume at the back of his neck, and Hook Possum lurched by him to listen to them wail.  Steve could hear his confused growling from inside, and wandered out after a while to help.  

They spent a weird three-quarters of an hour standing in the humid night heat, making up stories about Hook Possum, and Steve maybe, sleepily, told everyone his limited stock of possum facts three or four times.  They eat ticks, the kids started reciting along with him.  Their body temperature is too high to carry fleas.  Steve could feel Hook Possum laughing against his shoulder.  

“Can you sleep hanging from your tail?” one asked, and Hook Possum shook his creepy paper-mache head, shoulders slumped like maybe he really wanted to.  

Steve patted his back.  “Possums can’t actually do that,” he said, grateful to be reminded of a possum fact he’d forgotten.  “They can use it to climb, though.”

“You are not helping,” Hook Possum hissed, as the kids started clamoring for him to climb a tree.  

“Sorry,” Steve whispered back, thinking fast.  “Uh, possums carry their young on their backs—” he started, and stopped, because that was obviously the wrong thing to say, and Hook Possum yelled as he got dog-piled to the ground.  

“Harrington,” he hissed from the ground, and for a second it sounded so familiar Steve paused, frowning vaguely at the lake, until Hook Possum’s yells threatened to wake the whole camp, and Steve had to pick up the top-most flailing child and threaten to throw them all in the water.  

“Go back to bed, all of you,” Hook Possum growled, and one of them hugged him.  

“Will you walk me to the cabin?” she asked softly, and he sighed, staring—maybe—at Steve.  

“Come on, might as well,” Steve told him, and Hook Possum snarled, but let the little girl grab his hook.  He then stumbled off the step edge of the boardwalk around the cabin, flailing his arms, and Steve grabbed him by one gross fursuited paw, clicking his flashlight on.  Since the little girl had the other one, and the whole horde of them trotted along surrounding Hook Possum, which made it slightly less weird to hold hands with him.

On the way back, Hook Possum was still unsteady, even without a kid yanking on him.  Steve tried to keep the flashlight pointed squarely where the guy could see it, but he kept tripping over stuff he couldn’t see in the mask, so Steve kept holding his hand, leaning close to whisper ‘there’s a root in the path,’ and ‘step up here,’ and feeling like he was escorting a drunk date home from a party.  

“...didn’t know you were into possums, Harrington,” Hook Possum muttered, laughing a little, and Steve snickered, thinking of the lines he and Robin had decided on if any kids wanted to talk about—about awkward things, like girls kissing girls.  He hoped they didn’t—he hoped they all talked to Robin, who seemed much more qualified, but he’d practiced saying ‘I’m honored you trusted me’ in the mirror.

“I’m trusting you with my secret possum...thing,” he said, snorting a laugh.  “Aren’t you honored.”

“More nervous,” Hook Possum whispered back, stumbling again.  “Don’t take advantage of me out here, Harrington.  I’ll play dead, I swear to god.  I’ll hiss and bite you.”

“I’d treat you right,” Steve told him, grinning.  “Get you ticks to eat or whatever.  And carrion.”

“Oh, okay then.  Gee.  Thanks, man,” Hook Possum laughed, making a gagging noise.

“Eat your ticks, they’re good for you,” Steve commanded, and felt Hook Possum laughing harder.

When they got back to the cabin—finally—everybody else was trying to sleep, so Steve turned Hook Possum around by the shoulders in the dark, taking the hook, and feeling along under the awful mask to untie the suit.  He helped lift the creepy mask—the face of it felt warm and damp with breath, and Steve shuddered—and then he tugged on the paws as Hook Possum struggled to extricate himself.

“...you don’t have to help,” he said, but he sounded tired, and Steve squeezed his warm naked shoulder.  

“I don’t mind,” he said, and one of the other guys hucked a pillow at them, groaning.

“Get a room,” he mumbled sleepily.

“G’night, Possum,” Steve whispered, snickering again, and Hook Possum shoved him, but Steve was sure he heard a muffled laugh.

 The next morning, everybody was kinda subdued, as usual—the kids that weren’t scared were more homesick than they’d realized, the excited kids hadn’t gotten very much sleep, and the kids that believed in ghosts hadn’t gotten any sleep at all, which was about three-quarters of the camp, thanks to Steve’s best friend Robin “That toilet seat is also haunted” Buckley.  

It was the first really hot day of the summer, so Robin and Steve took everyone canoeing, and the shallows filled with splashing, giggling, and shrieks. Steve trailed his hands in the water, climbing in and out of the canoe at every opportunity to pick kids up so they wouldn’t overturn the boat.  In the middle of the chaos that afternoon, when the kids were mostly too exhausted to row and too full of lunch to swim, but it was too damn hot to want to get out of the water, Hook Possum stalked by, wading straight into the lake, twenty, thirty feet out up to his chin, and just stood there, staring, smoke wafting from his mesh eyes.  

After a few minutes of watching the floating, smoking possum head, Steve stuck his paddle in the water to bring himself to a splashing halt—the kids in the canoe yelped and squealed—and then he shouted paddling orders until they came up alongside the creepy apparition sticking out of the water like a malevolent buoy.

“Ho there,” Steve said, responsibly, “—non-invasive, helpful local wildlife!  Are you in need of assistance?”

Hook Possum coughed, choking, and then growled, shaking his long papier-mache snout.  “Temporary insanity,” he groaned.  “Jesus.  Even the water is warm.”

“Better than sitting in your own sweat,” Steve said cheerfully, having worn the damn thing.  He remembered feeling like a dripping-wet half-rotten kitchen sponge, sitting in a sauna.  

“Kill me,” Hook Possum muttered, sighing, and one of the kids leaned out of the boat and put a baseball cap on him.  

“The shade helps,” she reported, and he sighed, looking even more ridiculous as a bedraggled, haunted possum head, smoke wafting from its empty eye sockets, with a baseball hat over one ear.

“...thanks,” he said, and she nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear, and digging out a tube of sunscreen.  She proceeded to rub it on her ears, nose, and all over the boy next to her, who sighed.

“Uh, just...wave if you...start to drown,” Steve told Hook Possum, wanting to be encouraging, but uncertain how to help someone dying of heatstroke in a horrible old possum mascot costume who was presently up to their neck in a lake.  He couldn’t see any expression on Hook Possum’s face, but he was pretty sure it was the face of someone with nothing to live for.  “Uh.  S’mores tonight?  I think?”

“...I can’t eat in this thing,” Hook Possum groaned, with a plume of eye smoke.

“We can hide in one of the cabins,” Steve told him.  “You can, um, transform.  In there.”

“...like Cinderella?” Hook Possum asked, snorting a laugh, and Steve grimaced.  

“I was thinking more like a werewolf at the full moon,” he said, and Hook Possum’s mask shook with laughter.  “Don’t drown,” Steve told him.  “I mean, if you die, you won’t get the money anyway, so you might as well take the damn thing off.  And I’ll bring you s’mores.  With extra chocolate.  Chocolate is worth it, right?  How d’you like your marshmallows?”

The creepy, lumpy mask turned to him, its mesh eye holes more alarming than ever with the way the sun hit the smoke.  “...you giving me something to live for, Harrington?”

“Don’t die in a possum suit, man, you don’t want that on your gravestone,” Steve said fervently.  “And think about the funeral.  Everybody trying to say nice things and you in that thing.  Have a heart—”

“I think the funeral parlor would probably take it off my body,” said Hook Possum, genuinely laughing, and Steve blinked.

“Oh.  Oh, yeah, they probably would,” he said, nodding.

“Anyway, nobody’d come to my funeral,” Hook Possum said, snickering, and Steve leaned over and smacked his snout.  The water around the canoe splashed a little, and the kids yelped, watching them in exhausted, overheated fascination.

“You’re not a possum,” Steve reminded the guy, who turned his head towards Steve again, probably to stare.  Steve grabbed his painted snout, holding his attention.  “You’re not a real possum.  People would come.  Max would come, and me—”

“...you think?” Hook Possum laughed, and Steve glared.  “Okay, okay, sorry,” he said, sounding like he was grinning.  “I won’t drown.  Hook Possum says no drowning, kids.”

“I used to think Smokey the Bear did that,” said the boy dripping with sunscreen.  “You know, just walked up to you and said ‘don’t start forest fires,’ like that.  This huge bear.  I was terrified.”

“I could just walk up to boaters and say ‘don’t drown,’” Hook Possum snickered.  “Alongside the boats.  Hiss at them.”

“Holy shit,” Steve cackled, letting go of the mask.  “You should.  Do it.  Do it to Robin—her, look, over there—”

Hook Possum turned to look, and then moved silently through the water, his head floating along the surface like a duck gone wrong.  Steve and the kids floated in the water, holding their breaths, until the other boat erupted in shrieks and overturned.

“Oh, he is so getting s’mores,” Steve wheezed, laughing until he could hardly breathe.

 When the kids started to wander towards dinner, Steve found Hook Possum again, hanging onto the dock.  

“You okay, man?” he asked, and Hook Possum nodded silently, so Steve crouched down to have a look.  “You coming in?  It’s cooled off some,” he said, and Hook Possum nodded again, but didn’t move.  “...you need help?” Steve asked, and Hook Possum paused for a second before shaking his head.  

Steve waited, and finally, Hook Possum cleared his throat.  “Fuck off, I can do it, I’m fine.”

He obviously wasn’t.  “You feel sick?” Steve asked, used to the first aid questions after so many summers helping around camp.  “Tired?  Shaky?”

“...just getting...cooled off,” Hook Possum muttered, but he didn’t move.  The lake water was pretty warm, too, and Steve considered it, wondering whether it was even helping.  

“Don’t be an asshole.  You need a shower, some water, and a nap,” he told the stubborn six-foot tall possum clinging to the dock, and it hissed like it was born in the woods.  

“...don’t need a nap,” Hook Possum growled, and Steve laughed.  

“Well, lie down, at least.  You’ve got heatstroke, dude.”

Hook Possum shook his head, so finally Steve jumped in the water next to him, put an arm around him, and pulled him towards shore.  

“What are you doing,” he mumbled, but when he tried to push away he almost fell, so Steve grabbed him tighter.  

“I told you,” Steve sighed.  Hook Possum was staggering, leaning heavily against Steve’s shoulder, and vibrating with tension.  “You’re gonna die in that thing.  You can’t do this all summer.”

“Fuck you,” Hook Possum muttered, tripping as soon as they hit dry ground.

“I’ve got you,” Steve told him, grimacing, because it was probably ungodly humid in the wet fur suit, and he was pretty sure Hook Possum hadn’t taken his mask off to drink any water.  The chatter and occasional yells from the food tent washed over them as Steve took him through camp to the showers.

As soon as they were inside, Hook Possum’s head jerked up.  “Oh fuck no,” he mumbled, pulling away, but Steve held on.  

“You need to get cleaned up and cooled off, and rest up,” he told the scary possum mask.  “Seriously.  You can’t mess with this shit.”

“‘M’fine,” Hook Possum slurred, and Steve shoved him around to untie the suit.  

“I won’t look, jesus, I promise, I’ll close my eyes, okay?  Just lemme help you get this off, and get in the damn shower.”

“...fuck you,” Hook Possum muttered, his shoulders wet and shivery against Steve’s hands.  

With his eyes closed, Steve couldn’t tell whether Hook Possum had the grayish pallor, but he grabbed the moron by the back of the neck and held a hand to his forehead, which was feverishly hot.  

“Get off me,” Hook Possum squeaked, staggering back, and Steve stepped back too, listening to the sounds of sodden fur paws stumbling around.  

“You need me to stay with you?” Steve asked, knowing what the answer would be, but also wary of leaving someone who’d obviously never had heat stroke before.

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter,” Hook Possum snarled, in a deeper register than usual, and it pinged Steve’s brain.  He frowned, standing there trying to think of anyone he knew who was awkward and grouchy but good with kids, and called him Harrington.  “Get out,” Hook Possum said, sounding exhausted.

“I’ll get you some water,” Steve told him.  “Gimme the Hook Possum stuff, I’ll wash it.”

“...it can go in the wash?”  Hook Possum asked, sounding aggrieved, and Steve snorted a laugh.  

“It can go in the washtub,” he said.  “I’ll throw it in and let it dry overnight.”

“Oh,” Hook Possum said weakly, then rallied.  “Thought you were holding out on me.  Secret washing machine in your bunk.  ‘Cause you’re the owner’s son.”

“Yep, just me and the washer, holding each other close,” Steve agreed, rolling his eyes under their lids.  

“You’re into some kinky shit, Harrington,” Hook Possum told him, and Steve felt the gross muddy Hook Possum costume shoved against his arms.  

“Eugh,” he sighed, gathering up the paws and hook.  “You know it.”

“That’s not gonna be dry by tomorrow, is it,” Hook Possum said, woodenly, and Steve wanted to shake him.  

“Look, I can write you an excuse.  Take a sick day.  You can’t get right back in this thing.  It’s fine.”

“...I’ll make it up,” Hook Possum said, in a rush, after a long pause.  “And I’ll find something I can do, so I’m not fucking everybody over wearing this thing—”

“Dude,” Steve sighed.  It felt weird not knowing the guy’s name, but equally weird calling him Hook Possum.  “Relax.  Take a chill pill.  Nobody’s on your ass about this.”  He turned to leave, but Hook Possum started talking again.

“...they make you do all the first aid, or what?” Hook Possum asked, and Steve snorted a laugh at his wariness.

“They teach us all basic first aid,” he said patiently.  “You sure you don’t want me to stay?  Because you sure don’t seem like you want me to leave.”

“Fuck you!” Hook Possum growled, again, rattling at the door of the shower stall like he’d stumbled into it.  

“I’m going, don’t make me explain to Max how you fell and broke your face after I left you in here,” Steve called, heading out, gross stinking wet fur suit in hand.  He dumped the whole thing—except the mask, which he thought might melt, even though it was tempting—into the big wash basin where the kids washed their own clothes, added a ton of soap, and poked it a few times to get the water through the fur.  He found some apples and grapes in the fridge, added some cheese and crackers, and got a plastic cup of water.  He sat it all in his bunk—in case Hook Possum just collapsed in his own—and grabbed the bathrobe he always brought just in case, and Hook Possum’s towel.  

When he knocked at the showers, Hook Possum was silent, so Steve leaned in.  It was dark, but the shower was still running.  “...you alive in there?” he called, and heard Hook Possum laugh.  

“Told you I was fine,” he muttered, burbling with the water hitting his face, and Steve went to lean against the stall door.  

“Oh, sorry, should I put you back in the suit and dump you in the lake?” he asked.  “Or just leave you here to get back to your bunk naked?”  

In the darkness, Hook Possum was just a vague shape, but Steve squinted, trying to make out a face, or something.  “Fuck you,” he said, laughing.  “The hell are you gonna do, carry me in your arms?”

“I could,” Steve told him, always ready for a challenge.  

“Oh, fuck you,” Hook Possum said, laughing harder, and Steve grinned, a little confused.  

“I am the first aid officer, actually,” he bragged, having put himself on the schedule earlier.  “You need me to sweep you across the threshold, I guess that’s what I gotta do.”  There was a muffled grunt and a splashing thud in the stall, and before Steve could think, he had kicked the bottom of the door and jiggled the latch so it popped open, the way he had a zillion times before, when kids crawled under locked stall doors as a prank.  He crouched next to the dark shape in the dim stall as Hook Possum scrambled back.  “You okay?”

“Jesus fuck,” Hook Possum panted in a high voice.  “What in the goddamn are you doing in here.”

“You fell, dipshit,” Steve told him, rolling his eyes.  “Are you okay?”

“Yes!  I am okay!” Hook Possum hissed, wedged in the corner.  “Get the hell out of my shower!”

“Jesus, sorry, didn’t know you were a blushing maiden possum,” Steve told him, holding out a hand to help the guy up, but Hook Possum just groaned into his hands, so Steve shrugged, and left.  The door slammed shut after him and latched.

“Go away,” Hook Possum growled, and Steve snickered.  

“I brought you a towel, and my robe,” he said, and Hook Possum sighed.  “And some water.”

“I’m fine, christ,” Hook Possum muttered.  

“And I got you some grapes and stuff,” Steve told him, halfway out the door.  “In the cabin.  Lot of water in grapes.”

“...I’m okay,” Hook Possum said, after a pause so quiet Steve was wondering if he’d passed out in there.  “Jesus.  I’m not one of your...second graders.”

“No, because then you wouldn’t’ve been wearing that thing, or going without water,” Steve said crisply.  “And I would carry you to your bunk, like a goddamn bride.”

Hook Possum choked on the shower water, somehow, coughing.  

“You’re getting off easy,” Steve told him, his vindication lessened by Hook Possum choking like he was about to die.

“Holy crap,” he panted.

“You’re welcome,” Steve told him.  “I guess.  I hung your gross fur bag out to dry where it’ll get sun.”

“...didn’t even get the full service,” Hook Possum muttered.  It sounded like he was still laughing, exhaustedly.

“What, you want the bridal carry?  Because I’ll do it,” Steve threatened, and Hook Possum said something muffled, like he had his face in his hands.  “I’ll just wait right here, ready to cradle you to my chest,” Steve told him, and Hook Possum groaned, laughing harder.  It was hard to stay mad at him, because he was kind of giggling, in the tired way kids did when they couldn’t stop.  

 He wandered back into the cabin as everybody was singing camp songs, to see a big bony foot sticking out from under the flag covering Hook Possum’s bunk.  It withdrew.

“You awake in there?” Steve asked, grinning.

“...no,” Hook Possum groaned.  “What are you doing here?”

“Brought you some more water,” Steve told him, and after a minute, Hook Possum said “...just set it on the floor.  I’ll drink it, I promise, jesus.”

Steve nodded, and wandered back to the fire. 

PART ONE | TWO | THREE | FOUR

[kaypeace21]

DID theory part 3: St novels/comics/spotify list analyses

*read part 2  of DID theory-first! You’ll be lost otherwise, seriously XD. First, I’ll say -I find the ST comics/ books as canon as the st movie inspirations . I don’t consider the books/comics ‘literal canon’ (cause they contradict the show ( like Max and billy meeting a year before s2  in runaway max - but meeting as little kids in s3,  or El’s age being wrong in suspicious minds, in the d&D comic Will’s friends instead of him /Jonathan building castle byers, etc) . 

So I think we shouldn’t take it  literally - but more like the st movie lists - filled with foreshadowing/symbolism and other eastereggs (That the Duffers may have told them to add). So here’s some more (possible) alter / DID hints...

‘Suspicious minds’ novel

- Brenner  equates k*lling rabbits to h*rting kids. And he’ll hurt (kid) Kali (the bunny in the analogy) if Terry tries running away from him . I wonder if Lonnie used a similar threat against jonathan? Jon could be giving only a partial truth to why he cried for a week (about the bunny story)?

-Kali “hops” like a bunny then talks about tigers obsessively (linking her to rabbits/tigers similar to the other alters/Will/Lonnie). Terry also imagines tigers and kali says to Alice they can all be tigers together.

- one of the only male psychic experiments (who can see the future) is gay

- Terry is into lord of the rings, like Will. Has her and her boyfriend dress as sam & frodo (m/m ship). Terry calls her and her friends “the fellowship”.

-when Terry/Alice were injected with d**gs -they hallucinated rainbows.yikes.

- Alice (like Lonnie) is a car mechanic. She can see the future like Will the wise and says “monsters of course my mind has them as long as they stayed in there, everything would be alright? Wouldn’t it?” (in her visions she saw the demogorgan).

 (completed) graphic ST novels (by Jody Hozer) so far  (+ other st comics).

*Jody Hozer writes all the graphic novels (every novel is 4 chapters each) - the will byers comic, number 6 comic , into the fire comic, and at the moment she’s writing the d&d series and the summer camp series (which isn’t done yet). Then there’s the occasional 1 chapter st comics not written by her.

- Number 6 has (the ability to foresee the future like Will the wise/Alice) and has an ab*sive dad. 

When having a nightmare of the demogorgan ...she says as she wakes up “screw you dad” (another hint the demogrgan -aka in d&d means ‘deep father’ ...is Lonnie).

- when number 6 and others run they say they’re’ “rabbiting”(which yes technically makes sense but I found such an uncommon phrase odd.)

- The (summer camp and d&d graphic novels aren’t completed yet) but they establish d&d creatures are based off  real life people the boys don’t like in real life. Or that d&d is used as an outlet to explain true events from their pasts -but they just give the true stories a d&d fantasy slant.

- Which brings me to the halloween oneshot(not by Hozer),taking place before s1. Will tells a scary story told to him by Jonathan, and originally told to him by Lonnie. Says the boys have to keep it a secret cause it was something he was never supposed to tell to anyone. Mike says he has to finish the story he started. It’s about a “ch*lld-eater” monster first attacking a boy near the quarry (like where Will was found) and  attacking kids in a library (where Will was also found in s1).When the child sees the sheriff she bangs on the library door begging for help-he ignores her , walks away, and tells the other cops to never speak of what they saw as she screams for help. Because the previous sheriff was in kahoots with the monster. It def had some ... uh questionable imagery too 0_0

The vine in the mouth is also like the one in Will’s mouth (when Joyce found him in the library).And of course Dustin asks whether or not something like that could be covered up.

- In the “bully  comic” (about troy) also not by Jody. We focus on Troy and his ab*sive dad (who encourages him to fight/ditch his best friend). The dad has a drinking problem (gets fired), calls Troy a “mess” , pushes him, and constantly encourages Troy to be vi*lent/macho. He pretty much tries sabotaging the relationship Troy has with his friend (which I could see Lonnie doing in the future with byler).The dad/troy is framed similarly to when Billy gives Max a ride home-  after both ab*sers give bad advice saying not to hang out with their friend (after witnessing them fight in the school parking lot). Dad also laughs about almost k*lling a squirrel (a trait we see troy mimic)- and we see El feel guilty about k*lling a squirrel in s2. At the end of the comic- Troy (like Will) after making up with his bff james- moves leaving his best friend behind.

-  (into the fire) Twins: (one was normal with no powers living in the real world and the twin with fire powers is trapped in a dark sunless “cold” world styled like a psych facility/medieval fantasy) . pics in link.She hated her reflection cause it reminded her of being betrayed by her normal non powered twin who left her behind in the ‘cold’ place. She’d call herself a ‘hunter’ who would defend herself and attack others to never be hurt again. Her powers being unleashed were described like opening “a door.” And she loves her twin deep down and just wants friends . And fire twin goes to the “other side” to reunite with her reflection and find happiness in the real world. *also there’s sunflower/bunny symbols which she lights on fire-which can relate back to Will/Terry/Lonnie etc. The twins = Will & Will the wise (mf)

Mirrors also connect to Will and Will the wise via the canon spotify playlists too.

Will playlist (song: mirror in the bathroom)-Mirror in the bathroom Please talk free.The door is locked -Just you and me.Mirror in the bathroom recompense for all my crimes of self defense.Cures you whisper make no sense!Drift gently into Mental illness.

Demogorgan playlist ( from perspective of Will the wise aka the mf) (song: are you dead yet? )-”polluted soul through a mirror I behold.Throw a punch, shards bleed on the floor. tearing me apart. but I don't care anymore.Should I regret or ask myself are you dead yet?Wake up, don't cry. Regenerate to deny the truth. The fiction you live in blindfolds your eyes. Disclosure, self loathing, this time you've gone too far.Or could it be, my nemesis, that you are me?

(*st ‘into the fire’ comic. the fire powered twin’s thoughts echo the song)

*I think this foreshadows the later plot points of mf (will the wise ) and Will interacting via mirrors. The fire-wielding twin and the non powered twin had a lot of mirror imagery. Including the fire powered twin (Who denies reality/and imagines herself in a fantasy world) punching her reflection because it reminds her of her non-powered twin. Here’s some cover art from the novels showing how much they emphasize mirrors.

*And in s4 movies Black swan - “the black and white swan twins (two halves of the same person-Nina)” had creepy mirror imagery. In long kiss goodnight the women with DID talks to her “ (supposed)dark 1/2″  via a mirror (in a dream).  in ‘the visit’ the teen girl who’s dad abandoned her when young-  refuses to look in the mirror (and it’s never explained why she hates her reflection). So yes I think we’ll see this in s4 or 5. We already see the mf take on the appearance of Billy when talking to him.

- Will in “zombie boy” comic is afraid he’s a monster.

also lets appreciate the lil byler moment of Mike and Will being the only zombies and mike comforting him. honestly , though, the characters were pretty out of character for most of this 1 ch comic (until the end) tbh.

- in the “d&d comic” mf is  (possibly) described as a “protector” (aka like how i said the mf is probably a perpetrator alter- which are misguided protectors).

*update now that it’s finished... hinting Will created everything subconsciously.

‘Runaway Max’ novel (before s3)

(I didn’t get time to read this book unlike ‘suspicious minds’ -so can’t show screen shots of everything others talked about. May read it eventually)

-Max compares Billy  to ‘her monster’ and a ‘shadow’ that will attack anyone that comes close (mf parallel).

- Dart k*lled a cat,  El’s papa tried to force her to k*ll a cat. And Billy when seeing a d*ad cat lights it on fire for a “viking funeral”. A connection to WW (who has fire powers) and El & dart.

-Max and Billy both are into cars and bond over fixing them (similar to Lonnie’s interest in fixing up cars). And since Lonnie tried to brag to Jonathan about fixing a car up and Will is into tech it wouldn’t be a stretch that Lonnie and Will were into fixing cars together (like Max/billy who would hang out at a autoshop in Cali) .  Similar to Will ,max says hanging with Billy wasn’t always so bad- which made things more confusing to her.

- Max compares Billy being beat up by Neil: to ‘punching a pocket of a baseball glove’. This is interesting since this book was pre-s3 which was when they established the connection of billy and his dad to baseball (similar to s1 saying  Lonnie taught Will baseball).

-Billy’s friend is a nice ‘music snob’ . He tries distracting Max with music while Billy is burning the cat. Which reminds me of Jonathan trying to distract Will from their parents fighting in the next room-with music

- Max’s bio dad is a criminal who takes her to shady bars, and Max fears he’d ‘get bored of her’. Max also ran away from her mom to her dad’s 2x.Which reminds me of Jonathan thinking Will ran to Lonnie’s in s1.

-Max mentions how Billy misses his friends after moving out of Cali. And he starts acting even worse-after the move. Which will probably be the case for Will (at least a bit) when moving to California.

-Billy tells Max Neil isn’t his ‘real dad’ either because Neil can’t be a father to anyone.

-Billy also tells Max who (at the time ) is 12 years old not to act “easy” and breaks her best friend’s (Nate’s) arm over  someone joking he was Max’s boyfriend and also cause Nate tried to get in between Billy bullying Max. Eventually all her Cali friends ditch her cause they’re afraid of Billy.And Ugh- why could I see Lonnie doing something like this in the future with Will/his new friends. 

- Creepily Max says Billy doesn’t fool around with her like other girls not because of her age or being family. But cause she wasn’t ‘attractive’. This whole excerpt gave me the heeby jeebies,on so many levels, honestly.  Almost like he’s jealous- and controlling her cause he doesn’t want Max to have any love interests. Maybe i’m just missing the context? But ugh... excerpt:

Will byers secret Files

-Hopper gets scared by a pumpkin-scarecrow. And in Will’s canon journal when talking about the mindflayer and his nightmares draws the same scare-crow , Hopper saw. There’s also a lot of s4-5 foreshadowing in the book... but that’s a post for another day.

Darkness on the edge of town (Hopper novel)

*didn’t get time to read this (except the preview)

 I think it’s more foreshadowing for future seasons though- cult/supposed ritual k*llings, people being wrongly blamed for those crimes-like the hellfire club , most likely.  (similar to the guy number 3 in the number 6 comic)  saint john in the novel also has the same brain control powers as 3- similar to the mf. .” When a blackout plunges the boroughs into chaos, Hopper must escape the the mobs in the streets to make sure his family is safe and stop Saint John from fulfilling his prophecy.” I already talked about here- how the next few seasons would start having more religious symbolism/a future apocalypse (based on what we’ve seen in the show/s4 movies). Although, i think there’s quite a few differences between (the novel’s) saint john and Will the wise. Hopper is also a star wars nerd like the boys (alter hint)

Canon spotify songs (posted after s2/before s3) hinting at DID/ alter /lonnie stuff-

Will  and Will the wise (aka the mf) being an alter

*Used Will and the demogorgan playlist (which i think has perspectives of Will the wise aka the mf, demogorgan, and Lonnie).

Besides the mirror songs previously mentioned...

Will (cold inside)-Doctor the problem's in my chest.My heart feels cold as ice but it's anybody's guess?Doctor can you help me cause I don't feel right?Better make it fast before I change my mind. Doctor can you help me cause I don't feel right?Better make it fast before I change my mindWell it's cold, cold, cold, cold inside. Darker in the day than the dead of night Cold, cold, cold, cold inside...Counselor give me some advice Tell me how hard will I fall if I live a double life?

El (ghost)-your ghost, the ghost of you.It keeps me awake.My friends had you figured out.Yeah they saw what's inside of you. You tried hiding another you.But your evil was coming through... living in the shade Your cold heart makes my spirit shake.

El (monster Lead me home)-I don't know what, what I was afraid of, I was afraid oooof...Monster take me somewhere...We walk in shadow.Monster lead me home.Where there is no place to hide.Stranger on the other side We walk in shadow.Monster lead me home.

 The’ innerworld’/  other hints Max, El, Hopper, and Billy are alters of Will’s

Max (Logical song)-I know it sounds absurd. Please tell me who I am, who I am, who I am, who I am?

EL(Buzzcut season)-I remember when your head caught flame It kissed your scalp and caressed your brain ...nothing's wrong when nothing's true. I live in a hologram with you Where all the things that we do for fun . Play along (make-believe it's hyper real) But I live in a hologram with you.

Billy (broken bones)-Broken bones.Stay alone. If I see only what I believe -reality's bound by what I conceive

Max (Why can’t i touch it)-Well, it seems so real.I can see it.And it seems so real-I can feel it.And it seems so real-I can taste it.And it seems so real-I can hear it.So why can't I touch it?

Hopper (breakers)-Just to keep me from losing my mind .It's so easy to drown in the dream.Oh, and everything is not what it seems This life is but a dream.Shatter illusions that hold your spirit down ...From the inside, so it seems.Oh, I'm telling you it's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a dream It's all a It's all a dream.”

Max (comfortably numb)-When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse out of the corner of my eye.I turned to look but it was gone.I cannot put my finger on it now.The child is grown.The dream is gone.I have become comfortably numb.

Max (Kids aren’t alright)-Still it's hard Hard to see Fragile lives, shattered dreams...What the hell is going on? The cruelest dream, reality.

El(team)-Livin' in ruins of a palace within my dreams. And you know we're on each other's team

Hopper (denial twist) ( just change ‘she’ to ‘he’)-Just because she makes you feel wrong she don't mean to be mean or hurt you on purpose, boy!Take a tip and do yourself a little service...by playing a different role Ya, by playing a different role, oh.The boat ya you know she's rockin' it.And the truth well ya know there's no stoppin' it.So what, somebody left you in a rut and wants to be the one who's in control.But the feeling that you're under can really make you wonder.How the hell she can be so cold?So now you're mad, denying the truth.And it's getting in the wisdom in the back of your tooth

El (the story)-You see the smile that's on my mouth.It's hiding the words that don't come out.And all of my friends who think that I'm blessed.They don't know my head is a mess.No they don't know who I really am.And they don't know what I've been through

El (hero) ( pretty much alludes to El being a construct of Will’s mind similar to his juju zombies in the d&d story he wrote )-Who knows what you'll find when you look inside (billy’s mind)?Haunted beach (billy flashback), roll the dice.The zombies in the corner aren't amused (d&d ref).Play the part of the blushing bride...Out of view, cloaked by night...My spirit dims, but I feel the force"No longer in my hands,"  (loses powers) .I say to you .I could've been a hero, I could've been a zero.Could've been all these thingsI could've been nothing, I could've had something.Could've been all these things.And if I am unable, tell him that I'll try but underneath the table will spin the wheel and hope for gold. Oh, and where it stops, nobody knows.

Max (it’s real)-I don't know who's behind the wheel.Sometimes I feel like I don't know The deal.But when I tell you how I feel-Believe me when I say It's real.I skated on a frozen Sea.It's real as far as I Can see?

Max (Halloween)-Because your role is planned for you there's nothing you can do.

El (White rabbit... alice and wonderland/lonnie ref)-And if you go chasing rabbits, and you know you're going to fall...When logic and proportion have fallen sloppy dead.

demogrogan(Dimensions of horror)-Gaze upon the ancient face you dread (lonnie)... Passing through the doors, into Dimensions Of Horror. Haunting visions from the past, rise once more.Realms of darkness, terror, death and gore.Scream in fear, your sanity is lost

demogorgan (SCHORCHED)-Terrorizing madness. Vivid dreams. internal. Hallucinating the unknown. Abstract entities prey.Through superhuman abilities.Fragments of memory erased.

demogrogan (Calling from a dream)-the shadow king...seven spirits (7 ref) Swarming around his head.Close your eyes.Listen to my call. Our bond will bring us together again.I will wait for you. For our hearts still beat as one.Listen to my calling from a dream. (integration?)

 Maybe a coincidence or a hint at Will having both male &female alters?Billy (dude looks like a lady)- What a funky lady...Oh, he was a lady.Dude looks like a lady. Hopper (turn the page)-All the same old cliches,"Is that a woman or a man?" Max ( rebel rebel) (this was on her her pre s3 spotify list + post s3 “wrapped list”)- you got your mother in a whirl, doesn’t know if you’re a boy or girl? 

 SHIT DAD/ AB*SIVE FAMILY

*trigger w*rning ahead for dark themes like s**ual ab*se

demogorgan (my children)My children I never loved them.Why feel that way when their existence is my business?My children...feral vessals of my selfinterest...So don't lean on me man 'Cause I ain't got nothing to give.Don't lean on me man 'Cause I ain't got nothing to give.My children they're right behind you My children they're gonna beat you.My children if you let them Oh, oh, my children.

demogorgan (black dahlia-window):  I’m not quoting the lyrics you can just look it up.  it’s messed up.Based on the 1st person pov of Gilles de Rais -k**ler and p*d*rest who also kidnapped a cleric.

Will (creature comfort)-Some boys hate themselves.Spend their lives resenting their fathers... hate their bodies .Stand in the mirror (another mirror ref) and wait for the feedback.Some boys get too much, too much love, too much touch.

Jonathan’s Playlist- We’re happy family: “Eating refried beans (poverty). Gulpin’ down Thorazines (pills for a mood disorder). We ain’t got no friends (s2 ref). Our troubles never end. Daddy likes men. Daddy’s telling LIES.”

Jonathan’s playlist-Enter sandman: “Don’t forget my son. Sleep with one eye open. Gripping your pillow tight, Exit light, Enter night. Take my hand, we’re off to never-never land. Something’s wrong, shut the light, heavy thoughts tonight. Dreams of LIARS and of things that will bite, yeah. Hush little baby don’t say a word, and never mind that noise you heard. It’s just the beasts under your bed, in your closet in your head.”

Jonathan (The killing moon-guy sings this)-So soon you'll take me up in your arms. Too late to beg you or cancel it. Against your will!He will wait until you give yourself to him...In starlit nights I saw you.So cruelly you kissed me... unwillingly mine.

jonathan (haunted)-You and I both know that the house is haunted And you and I both know that the ghost is me. You used to catch me in your bed-sheets just a-rattling your chains.Well back then , it didn't seem so strange...In the midnight hour..I was busy trying to charm that snake. When the sun came up we had no place to hide...You and I both know that the house is haunted  yeah you and I both know that the ghost is YOU! You used to walk around screaming, all slamming all 'dem doors Well I'm all grown up now and I don't scare easy no more But you and I both know.

Hopper (Confession)-Now I'm on the low Confession, to a virgin ghost Admission, force you know.

hopper (Tomorrow ) Yeah, and back when s*x and amph*tamines were the staples of our childhood physique.

Max (Last caress)-I got something to say.I k**led your baby today.And it doesn't matter much to me.As long as it's de*d.Well I got something to say.I r*ped your mother today.And it doesn't matter much to me.As long as she spread. (Lonnie pov? Neil?messed up song to be on Max’s list)

hopper House of the rising sun- And my father was a gamblin' man Way down in New Orleans... And the only time he's satisfied Is when he's on a drunk

Max Poor relations-An attitude, no patience, he's paper thin.Talking over everything you have to say...Don't correct the things he said, what's the use?Can't handle violence.Can't handle violence.Learning to love the abuse you can't live without.Your familiar oppression, your daily injustice...That loser man that belongs to you, he's ruling you.

el (sweet dreams are made of this)- Some of them want to use you ...Some of them want to ab*se you.Sweet dreams are made of this...Hold your head up.Keep your head up, movin' on.

Max (Alternative ulster)-They say they're a part of you.And that's not true, you know.They say they've got control of you.And that's a lie, you know.They say you will never Be free, free, free

max In bloom-”Sometimes at night I let it get to me.And last night it had me down and feeling NUMB...And thinking back upon those days Way way back when I was young.I was such a little shit.Cos I was always on the run.Well you know just what they say-Just like father then like son.Don't delude me with your sympathy.Cos I can do this on my own.And this will be the last time-That I break down and wanna crawl to bed. “(since Billy has a playlist I found this song choice being on hers instead of his interesting- in fact almost all of Max’s songs are from the 1st person perspective of a boy unlike the other gals.)

Max (comfortably numb)-The child is grown.The dream is gone.I have become comfortably NUMB.

hopper (numb)-Honey, here I go again Down that crooked road of sin.My momma locked me out again And hung me high to rust under the rain I am NUMB( 8x)....Little bluebird at my window Sing a pretty song for me Don't you know that you can fly, fly, fly away Don't you know that you can leave I am numb.

other psych songs

Hopper (life of sin)-Every morning when I rise I look in the mirror (another mirror ref) and despise the sight of everything and all that I've become. The level of my medicating some might find intimidating But that's alright cause' it don't bother me none.

 Max (Moon over marin)- “Dive in my scalding wooden tub (connects to mf/el)...There, wasn't that a nice visit?Don't forget, a psychiatrist is on duty twenty-four hours a day in the blue room...Drink plenty of water when you take these.Now you can relax.” ( I wonder if stranger writers saying to “drink plenty of water” is secretly a line said by a psych person in s4?)

Max (Feeling ok)-My doctor says that I should take it -At least I won't have to keep faking.I know, someday I'll find it-Where I, I least expect it.Today I know I feel ok.

Max ( Going gets tough)-.No home since the fire.Me and the ash can't settle down...So I sink another round-Placebo for pain.And there's no one for to blame . I refuse to accept-That my work is all in vain...Still always remembering .When the going gets tough .That the labor of our love-Will reward us soon enough.

 Max (Comfortably numb)-Hello? (Hello? Hello? Hello?)Is there anybody in there?Just nod if you can hear me.Is there anyone home?Come on now-I hear you're feeling down.Well I can ease your pain .Get you on your feet again.Relax // Now I've got that feeling once again.I can't explain . you would not understand.This is not how I am. I have become comfortably numb.I have become comfortably numb //Okay (okay, okay, okay)Just a little pinprick.There'll be no more, ah .But you may feel a little sick.Can you stand up?I do believe it's working, good.That'll keep you going through the show.Come on it's time to go// Your lips move but I can't hear what you're saying.

Explanations of Why the mf  (WIll the wise)behaves the way he does

demogorgan (ww) (Cowards starved)- friends think of me as a priest.I had to show them that the weakest hands Can still make impressive fires. (aka MF = will the wise)

demogorgan (ww) (Unmerciful):I will be reborn...Tranquil demeanor.Now devoured.Surfacing malice...I can't reconcile the torment others bring unto me.I will not take any reproach.Turning the other cheek.Relentless hatred consumes.Control released.Absolved of all compassion.I am free .Look into my hate filled eyes and tell me What do you see?Surging aura of my rage Paralyzing you in fear.

Demogorgan (ww) (bodies-Beaten why for (why for)?Can't take much more.(Here we go, here we go, here we go).One, nothing wrong with me,Two, nothing wrong with me.Three, nothing wrong with me.Four, nothing wrong with me.One, something's got to give.Two, something's got to give.Three, something's got to give now...You're all by yourself but you're not alone...Driven by hate consumed by fear.

demogrgan (ww)-Orbs used as transmitters carry electromagnetic beams from above (affecting magnetic fields in the show).Silence, manipulated, tortured ...How immune is your system of suffering?Its in the blood of suffering (familial ref).Its in the blood.

 Demogrgan (Monster)-I shoot the lights out..Whoa, just another lonely night...None of who you get it, ain't nobody cold as this.A zombie (will ref) with no conscience .Everybody knows I'm a motherfucking monster. Everybody wanna know what my Achilles' heel is? Love I don't get enough of it.

[akaiaowl]

Happy Stranger Things Day!!

It’s been 4 years since Stranger Things was first premiered on Netflix! (already?) This series is very close to my heart, since it managed to inspire me after 3 long years of writer’s block. To commemorate that, I’ll be posting the epilogue to my first fanfic on AO3: Reality in Motion (also known as RiM by some in the ST fandom). Here goes the summary and first chapter:

Reality in Motion

Modern College AU.

It hurt her to listen to the ruthless voice in her head, but, as much as she hated to admit it, El knew it was probably right. It had happened countless times before. Well, actually two. Two times in which El found herself feeling funny and giddy and hopeful about someone, only to be disappointed. It always ended that way. She was destined to be alone and it was probably for the best.

AKA: Socially awkward Jane Ives' first semester in college. Also AKA: Not your typical nice-boy-meets-drunk-girl-at-a-party Mileven fic (because of all the angst and slowwwww burn, be warned).

Chapter 1: Changes

Wednesday 29th, November 2017

If there was something El Ives put her mind to, she was sure to accomplish it. Always.

Well, most of the times.

As a matter of fact, today was one of the few rare exceptions to that rule. This, since Will Byers, El’s best friend, had managed to convince the otherwise socially awkward El to finally come with him that weekend to some party at a friend’s house.

They were both currently seating on the beige colored carpet of her dorm room, supposedly trying to be productive by getting their History 102 assignment done before the due date.

“Pleeease El! I’m about to beg you, it’s almost Christmas break and, for once, I’d like for you to come meet my friends and not stay locked up here again like a loser”, Will had been pouting at his friend for over two hours.

“Hey, I happen to like being a loser”, said El feigning indignation and scowling at her skinny best friend.

Will managed to hold back his smile at his oldest friend’s antics and maintained a serious expression for the sake of getting his point across. They’d been friends since the age of twelve and both knew just how determined the other could be. Holding each other’s stares defiantly in a silent challenge, neither of them wanted to give in.

As she stubbornly stared into Will’s lively brown eyes, El suddenly felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. She had been having a few of those for a while now, especially whenever she thought back on their high school days on Hawkins High School. Actually, the biggest irony was thinking about how much she had looked forward to graduating and moving as far away as humanly possible from that hell hole she called hometown. Whereas, now, she couldn’t help feeling strangely homesick. As a matter of fact, lately, El was often ambushed by random flashbacks from her teenage years and usually found herself wishing she could somehow go back and do it all better.

She regretted everything, actually, except for her friendship with Will.

Their friendship was yet another reason El kept thinking back in nostalgia to her high school days: even though Will and her had managed to get accepted into their dream college together and even lived in neighboring dorm buildings, she felt him more distant than ever before. Worse than that, El was painfully aware that she was the reason of the increasing (figurative) distance in their friendship and she loathed herself for it. Now, more than ever, she hated herself for her apathetic and awkward personality. Why couldn’t she be a normal eighteen year old? Why couldn’t she just stop feeling so nervous around other people? Because of this she was finally managing to drive her best friend away, her partner in crime, after being the closest of friends for over half a decade.

For most of their first semester at college she had declined Will’s enthusiastic invitations to parties and any social events, preferring to skip them in favor of spending her afternoons in the solitude of her room either reading ahead or watching some movie or TV show. It was just easier that way, it seemed. El had never really been a social butterfly and she knew how much Will loved meeting and bonding with new people. So, she just figured that she could give him some space by making herself scarce.

However (and she’d never admit it out loud), as Will started spending less and less time with her and his invitations became rare occurrences, El began feeling terribly lonely (which was weird). She usually cherished her alone time, often glad she wasn’t out there fake smiling and making small talk, getting emotionally drained after overthinking and worrying over every tiny detail of her social interactions. Nonetheless, now, it just felt like a very different kind of loneliness.

El felt lonely in a bad way, a way she hadn’t felt for quite a long time: the kind of lonely she used to feel before meeting Joyce Byers and befriending her son, Will.

Finally, after glaring at Will some more, El lowered her gaze in defeat. Mostly because she missed spending more time with him, and also because she was a bit curious about going to a college party.

“Ok. Fine, I’ll go. BUT I’ll only stay until a reasonable hour and you better not be dragging me up there so I can be your designated driver”, answered El with an annoyed huff, hurling one of her fluffy pillows on Will’s general direction and feeling quite annoyed (mostly at her pathetic, abnormal self).

Her friend easily managed to catch the pillow midair and offered El a sympathetic smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. She knew he was worried about her spending so much time by herself – the fact that she had no roommate made it easier for her to just hide away for hours on end without any excuse.

“I’m only doing this for your own good El, you know I look out for you and it’s about time you start having a normal college experience and, you know, getting to know people. After all, the semester is almost over”.

--….--…--…---

Friday 1st, December 2017

El bit her lip as she stared at her reflection on the mirror critically. Was her top too revealing? Was her midsection looking gross and bloated? Should she put any make up on? Was her hair ok? Were jeans and sneakers too casual for the party?

Man, I badly needed a School of Life 101 crash course, El thought with a groan.

It was always on times like this that El really wished she had a roommate or a best friend who could actually give advice on these kinds of things. It was also on times like these that El regretted not learning about this stuff back on high school. Finally, after examining her reflection some more, she decided to change her sneakers in favor of her black leather boots and apply some lipstick to her dry lips.

Feeling quite nervous, she turned her phone screen on and was surprised to see several messages from Will.

8:02 pm U excited yet for your first college party?

8:03 pm Totally getting drunk as skunks 2nite.

8:46 pm Waiting for the guys, we’re coming to pick u up

9:29 pm On our way, expect a call in 15

9:44 pm Almost there

9:59 pm Ok, let’s go

*3 missed calls from MY FAVORITE PERSON IN THE WORLD*

10:03 pm Pick up the phone

10:11 pm We’re waiting downstairs

10:27 pm What the hell u doing? We’ve been here for ages

El was surprised to find out how long she had taken to get ready, her nervousness was really not helping. As quickly as possible, she grabbed her tiny purse and keys and made her way out. At that very moment, her phone screen lit up and the contact name Will had programmed for himself popped up.

*incoming call from MY FAVORITE PERSON IN THE WORLD*

Smiling, El answered.

“I’m sorry, I completely lost track of time, that’s all. I’m almost there”, she said breathlessly while making her way down the flight of stairs.

“No problem El, just making sure you were still up for it”, answered Will sympathetically.

“Wait. So did I actually have an option?” replied El only half joking.

She really was terribly nervous, like she always was whenever she had to face a new social situation.

Will laughed at her lame attempt at making a joke and was silent for a bit, maybe trying to empathize with his best friend’s nervousness.

El could hear Will’s friends talking loudly on the background:

“We need to hurry if we want to get wasted before the night ends, that’s kind of the point of tonight”, a loud male voice whined pathetically.

“Hey, I’m actually enjoying watching this show”, another male voice answered in fake annoyance.

“Booooooring”, someone else interjected.

“You’re too lame Wheeler”, the first voice teased.

The conversation on the background grew faint as El realized Will must have walked away from his friends to talk to her privately.

“Everything will be fine and you’ll have fun, you’ll see. If you feel uncomfortable or something you have us”, finally whispered Will before hanging up.

El had really tried to avoid meeting Will’s friends for a while now, feeling resentment and jealousy towards them because her best friend spent most of his time with them now and talked all the time about how fun and loyal they were.

It actually made sense that they spent time together since they were all taking science related careers and had most of their classes together – Will was an engineer major, like Lucas, while Dustin and Mike were physics majors.

It was silly, she knew.

Calm down El, it’s going to be ok, Will’s friends are probably as nice as him.

Finally, El got to her building’s common area. She saw four guys sprawled comfortably all over the beige couches, two of them were fighting over the remote and the other two were trying to watch whatever show was on TV.

They didn’t notice her presence until she started timidly approaching Will, who was gazing at the screen with mild interest. He was the first one of the group to notice her and his face was instantly filled with a broad smile.

“You’re finally here!” he exclaimed, startling everyone.

“Guys, this is El”, Will said loudly. Then, pointing at each of the guys next to him, he introduced them, “These are Lucas, Dustin and Mike”.

“Thanks for waiting”, El managed to smile at them without making eye contact. She hoped they didn’t notice her nervousness.

“No problem”, said the smallest one of them, Dustin, “honestly, we were all dying to finally meet you”.

“Yeah, we had a bet going on about Will’s friend being imaginary”, laughed Lucas.

Upon hearing that last comment, El snorted while trying to contain a laugh and turned to look at Will with amusement. Her friend merely shrugged.

“See how you make me look bad El?”

“Oh, it was only for the sake of making the bet more interesting”, answered El with a laugh, “it would have been no fun without the mystery, now would it?”

The guys smiled, amused, and the air significantly relaxed. She felt a tiny bit more comfortable, and the voice in her head repeating her own doubts and fears in a loop grew quiet for the first time that night.

“So, who won the bet?” asked Will, looking at his friends.

“Me”, said the tallest boy, Mike, smiling.

He was the only one who hadn’t spoken up yet, but she recognized his voice from her phone call with Will – he was the one who claimed to be enjoying the TV show while they waited for her to arrive.

Overcome by curiosity, El risked a glance up at him and was surprised to find him already looking at her, matching her interest. They made eye contact.

“So thank you for being real, I guess”, he said smiling kindly at her.

She quickly averted her gaze, not knowing what to do or how to respond, and tried to keep her upcoming blush from actually showing on her face. It wasn’t even a compliment, why was she reacting like this?

Social awkwardness truly sucked.

There was a short moment of silence, which was (thankfully) quickly broken by Lucas.

“Ok, let’s get going”, said Lucas enthusiastically as he strode to the nearest exit.

--….--…--…---

Saturday 2nd, December 2017

She’d drank too much, too soon.

Of course, the fact that Will kept refilling her red solo cup with mysterious mixes of liquor didn’t help at all. But she wasn’t complaining at all. All things considered, El found the whole experience quite interesting. Actually, she was pleased to realize that the alcohol numbed that voice that constantly reminded her of all her insecurities and flaws. She found this quite liberating.

She felt like she could do anything. Be anyone she wanted.

Will’s friends had left them to join a game of beer pong not so long ago, which had also helped El feel a whole lot more relaxed. Up until then, she had been too scared of acting like a weirdo around the guys and so she had barely talked.

For the first time in a long time, no worries or guilt lurked El’s mind.

As time went by, the music surrounding her stopped being too loud and the vibration of the bass on the floor actually made her lively in a way she had scarcely felt before. Before she knew it, her foot was tapping the floor to the beat of the unknown song. She tried to pay attention to whatever Will was saying (maybe a funny story about someone in one of his classes? What was that about a teacher?), but words kept jumbling around making it hard for her to understand anything at all.

My thought process is screwed up, El thought.

Suddenly, it occurred to her that that was the funniest, wittiest thing she had ever come up with, so she giggled uncontrollably.

Will smiled affectionately at the giggling girl beside him. He had really tried to be a good friend that night, staying with her the whole time – probably suspecting that if she got to feel too awkward, she’d escape the party.

“I loooooove you so much Willy Will”, said El hugging her friend, “do you know that?”

El’s ears suddenly caught onto a tune, alerting her of something.

Something quite urgent.

Do you recall, not long ago We would walk on the sidewalk? Innocent, remember? All we did was care for each other

“BYERS!!!! COME ON!” she exclaimed giddily, standing up clumsily and dragging her skinny best friend to the middle of the room, “IT’S OUR JAM!”

But the night was warm We were bold and young All around, the wind blows We would only hold on to let go

Will could only smile at her random behavior. He had never been a good dancer and he had not drank nearly as much as El had, so he just sort of awkwardly tried shuffling his feet and swaying his body to the catchy song.

“BLOW A KISS FIRE A GUN, WHEN YOU NEED SOMEONE TO LEAN ON”, El was screaming while swaying her hips wildly, her eyes were closed, “BLOW A KISS FIRE A GUN, ALL WE NEED IS SMEBODY TO LEAN ON”.

Will tried his hardest to keep up with El’s moves, but she was like a woman possessed, jumping around and twirling in every direction. It seemed that all those months of pent up energy – probably gathered after all those afternoons of voluntary isolation – were finally finding an outlet. After a couple of songs and happy to see his friend finally having fun, Will decided his job there was done.

“El. El! EL!!” he screamed to get her attention.

She faced him, smiling wildly. Her face shiny with sweat from the exertion and the warmth in the room. Will couldn’t help mirroring her grin.

“I just can’t keep up with you!” he said teasing her, “I’m gonna go find the guys”.

El stuck out her tongue at him and waved goodbye.

“YOU’RE SUCH A KID ELEVEN!” Will exclaimed as he headed to the other room, where he last saw his friends heading to.

--….--…--…---

Her feet were killing her.

El made her way to the nearest sitting space she could find, a couch on the left side of the room. She sat down for a minute in the crowded couch, slowly trying to move her toes so she didn’t feel them cramping anymore. She was currently sandwiched uncomfortably between a sleeping guy and a couple making out. She tried to ignore the snores and the sounds the couple were making.

She hadn’t seen Will or any of his friends for at least a couple of hours and she was not about to go wandering off looking for them. Will was probably drunk by now, maybe talking to the cute guy from their History 102 class that he always rambled on about. El smiled fondly, remembering how much of a hopeless romantic her best friend was.

She tried laying back on the couch and closing her tired eyes, but everything was too hot and her feet hurt too much. It was way too uncomfortable.

El glanced hopefully at the glass doors that led into the balcony. With any luck, there wouldn’t be anyone out there smoking.

She hated the smell of tobacco. It reminded her of him.

El shut her eyes tightly, desperately trying to chase away the memories that begged to be replayed on her mind, and massaged her throbbing temples. She tried to take a deep, calming breath and relax somehow, but the air felt too moist and everything smelled like alcohol and sweat. Suddenly, she was too aware of the extremely loud music and the annoying presence of the people around her. And there were too many people. Too many unfamiliar faces. Frustrated, El opened her eyes slowly, glancing around at the room full of strangers.

Dejection filled her thoroughly, tonight had been great so far and she just happened to ruin it by opening a door she had closed more than five years ago. She’d promised it would never haunt her, never hurt her again. But it was always there, lurking. It was always him, never allowing her to escape his choking grip.

Without even thinking about it, she had started walking on the opposite direction of the balcony, towards the main door of the house. As she stepped outside of the house, she couldn’t help noticing the wide brown door was ajar. El moved forward taking slow, deliberate steps, knowing her balance was far from being the most stable.

She glanced around quickly.

Sighing in relief at the fact that she had apparently managed to escape the smokers, El leaned on the nearest wall and stared off into the darkened streets and houses. Her body still felt light, but most the energy she had at the beginning of the night had ebbed away by now, leaving her exhausted. Soon enough, she noticed that the volume of the music and the noise from the house was once again bearable for her. However, without the loud (loud! loud!) music infecting her thoughts, she was left at the mercy of the familiar cold voice in her head: it was her own voice, but ruthless and emotionless, and it never tired of always repeating everything she didn’t want to hear.

She wondered what time it was, she was too lazy to get her phone out and check the time. Her fuzzy brain was making everything a lot harder.

“You ok?” a familiar voiced questioned.

El found herself staring up into the freckle-covered face of one of Will’s friends.

“Just tired and hot”, she replied, “it’s like a freaking oven in there”.

He just chuckled.

“Why are you out here?” she suddenly asked.

“Oh, just getting some air to clear my head”, the tall guy answered shrugging, “I am the lucky soul who gets to be the designated driver for tonight”.

El smiled in amusement.

His name is Mike, El suddenly remembered, her scattered, hazy thoughts becoming a tiny bit clearer.

“You know, I was convinced the only reason Will invited me here was so I’d have the honor of being the DD”.

They remained in a comfortable silence for a while, both staring off and busy with their own thoughts.

“Will is worried about you”, Mike stated after a while.

“I know”, El answered sadly, “it’s just hard for me, you know?”

Mike furrowed his brow in confusion.

“No matter how hard I try, it’s hard for me to feel comfortable or relaxed or even normal around new people or in new places”, she explained almost in a whisper.

“It’s ok to feel that way”, he said like it was the most natural thing in the world, his gaze showing empathy.

El snorted, fully aware that no, it was not okay to be such an introverted freak. She was not stupid. She knew it was a limitation, something that held her back from experiences and people and things she really wanted. She was all too aware that it was what isolated her from everyone and ultimately stood like a solid barrier, shielding her even from the ones she deeply cared about.

“I felt very lonely coming here at first”, Mike confessed smiling crookedly in her direction, “I consider myself a lucky guy, having Dustin as a roommate and meeting Lucas and Will on my first week here”.

“Will is an amazing friend”, El answered smiling, “and all of you seem like pretty cool guys”, she added honestly.

Mike blushed a bit and lowered his gaze, focusing on his wristwatch.

Who even owns a wristwatch these days?, wondered El with amusement as she glanced at him with the corner of her eye.

“Hey, it’s barely 1 am, how do you feel about going for a drive and coming back to pick up our friends’ drunken asses?” suddenly asked Mike.

Full story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12840366/chapters/29318523

[pappydaddy]

Wedding Crasher (s.h)

a/n: i am loving looking through all my first fics! i remember posting them all (since it’s only been like a year). i still cannot believe how this blog grew, it amazes me. anywho, i will be revamping this by rewriting it eventually, but for now, i am just making it look like my newer fics! i will also be using this for my speak now collection when taylor releases her version of the album and when i finish the folklore/evermore and fearless collections!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

tv show/movie: stranger things

not requested

tv show/movie: stranger things

warnings: angst with a happy ending (for steve and the reader at least)

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation

- not my gif -   

Y/n sat in front of her vanity, finally alone with her thoughts. Her bridal party were rushing around checking on every single little detail. Her mother was most likely off yelling that she wanted pink roses, not white lining the aisle. It seemed that everyone was fretting over trivial things when it was obvious that the Bride was having a crisis. Her Fiancé was determined that they needed to be married in her hometown, deciding that was what Y/n wanted. 

  Being in Hawkins once again brought back a lot of memories. Memories she wanted to bury deep into her mind and forget. Death, heartbreak, horror, fear. Those were paired with horrible flashbacks. The one that hit her hardest was the memory of the man she still loves with all her heart. The man who broke her heart into a million pieces when he told her he couldn’t do it anymore. The man who every inch of this damn town pushed him to the front of her mind again - no matter how hard she tries to push it back. When they were together, they were positive that they were going to be together forever. Until they weren’t. 

  Blinking the tears blurring her vision away, a single one rolled down her cheek. Wiping it away harshly, she stared at her reflection. Her eyes were dull, her face void of any emotion. Her movements were lethargic and slow as she stroked the makeup brush over her cheeks, dusting them with blush. She looked magnificent with her hair all done, her face almost completely finished. She looked so much more mature than she did last time she was in town. Her face had thinned out more, her posture improving as she molded herself into a professional woman. She wasn’t the same wide-eyed, naive little girl who left this town with a broken heart and all her possessions. 

  She didn’t want to marry Jessie, her Fiancé. Sure, he was a wonderful man. He was sweet, caring, professional and had a good future, but she didn’t love him like he loved her. No matter how far they got in their relationship, she couldn’t get over the love of her life - Steve. Everything Jessie did, she found herself comparing him to Steve. From the way he walked to the way he made her feel when they made love. Nobody was able to make her the way Steve made her feel. Her heart was heavy, a pain spreading through her chest. Steve didn’t want anything to do with her. He made that clear the day he ripped her heart out and left it broken and bleeding in her hands. 

  Taking a deep breath, she shifted in her seat, blinking before rolling the mascara wand over her eyelashes. Her eye shadow covered eyelids sparkling faintly in the bright lights bordering the mirror. She needed to forget Steve, to ignore the slideshow of memories playing like a reel in her mind. Setting the tube of mascara down, she smeared the red lipstick on her lips carefully. It was only a matter of time before her Bridesmaids burst back into the room, rushing to get her into her wedding dress. 

  Rising from her seat, pulling the sliver satin dressing robe closer before tightening the belt holding it closed. Her bare feet padded across the bridal suite towards the wardrobe that her perfectly white gown was hanging in. Pulling the beautifully crafted wooden doors open, she was greeted by the ball gown. Her dainty hand reached out, her fingers brushing against the lace details. The train was perfectly folded at the bottom of the wardrobe to avoid getting wrinkles in the fabric. It was a beautiful dress, but she didn’t want it either. She didn’t want a large, puffy dress with capped sleeves or sleeves at all. Her mother insisted on this one and since she was settling for her husband, what would it matter if she settled for her dress too. 

  The door opened, but Y/n didn’t pull her eyes from her dress as guilt and sadness settled in her stomach. “I was wondering what was taking you guys so long. I need to get into my dress.” She said as the door softly closed behind whoever just walking in. She had assumed it was her bridesmaids, freaking out that the Bride still wasn’t dressed. 

  “You’ll look beautiful in it,” The voice that spoke was masculine, soft and certainly didn’t belong to one of her bridesmaids. She stilled, her hand pausing as it trailed over her dress. The voice, though she hadn’t heard it in so many years, she instantly knew. Her heart jumped happily, but it broke once again all at the same time. “Just like I always dreamed of.” It spoke again at her silence. 

  Clearing her throat, she turned around, her hand dropping from her dress as she collected herself. “What are you doing here, Steve?” She asked, finally looking at him. Her breath hitched at the sight of him, but she tried to disguise it, not wanting him to know that he still effected her - to know that she still loved him. He had also matured, but somehow, he still looked exactly the same. The same bushy, floppy hair that Y/n had loved to run her fingers through. His big brown eyes that held the mysteries of the world in them. 

  “I heard you were in town and I had to come see you.” He told her, his eyes trailing over her. The way her curled hair cascaded over her shoulders made her look like an angel to him, the sunlight shining through the windows forming a halo in her hair. 

  “Why? Last time I checked, you were the one who left me,” She reminded him, her hands fidgeting with the dangling part of her robe belt. As much as she wanted to, she couldn’t look away from him. She couldn’t help but notice of his eyes missed the goofy gleam that were normally held in them. “Usually after someone says they don’t want to be with you, they don’t show up at your wedding.” 

  “I know, I spent two days arguing with myself and the kids about if I should do this or not,” He sent a tentative smile towards her at the mention of the kids what weren’t really kids anymore. Y/n couldn’t help the corner of her mouth twitching into a tiny little smile when he brought the kids up. They were all invited to the wedding. She wanted Max and El to be part of her bridal party, but her mother refused, saying that having children as bridesmaids wouldn’t make Jessie’s snobbish family happy. Jessie also backed her mother up and wouldn’t let them be seated close to the alter either. “I just need to know if you love him. If you love this guy.” Steve’s voice broke slightly, tears blurring his vision. 

  “Of course I love him!” She said too quickly and too defensively. She knew her mistake the second she said it. With anyone else, it would have been able to slip by, but Steve knew her inside out. Her hands dropped the belt, her eyes wide. Steve took a step towards her, his sneaker squeaking against the fancy hardwood floor. Jessie’s family paid for everything while her mother planned everything. Neither of the family’s spared a single expense, pulling out all the stops. Money was no issue for Jessie’s family. 

  “No you don’t,” He muttered, taking another step towards her, slowly closing the vast difference between the as she stood still. Part of her wanted him to reach her, to grab her and kiss her like he did when they were younger. “I can tell by your voice and by how you don’t have the glow you get when your happy.” He stopped, the space between them only a foot smaller, someone could still parallel park a car between then and have room to spare. 

  “Jessie is my Fiancé, I love him, Steve.” She tried to deny, but she knew there was no use. He could read her like a book. He was always able to. 

  “Do you love him or does your mother love him?” He posed the question, taking another small step towards the girl he was trying to win back. After all those years, he yearned for her to come back to town, if only to pass through, but alas, she never did. Until now. Her wedding day. Her mother didn’t waste a second to leave town behind her daughter, leaving Steve with no way to find her. The kids were too mad at him for breaking Y/n’s heart to give her information to him. If it weren’t for Steve finding Dustin’s invitation, he wouldn’t even know she was going to be in town, let alone getting married. 

  Y/n tightened her jaw, not wanting to answer his question. Her silence was enough of an answer for Steve. “I made a mistake five years ago. I was scared and young, I was overwhelmed by my feelings for you and my parents were telling me that I was only a kid and I didn’t know what love was,” Steve gushed, his eyes pleading with her. “They told me that we weren’t going to last and I believed them. I believed them so much that I let them convince me to break up with you, but you have to know that I regret that day and I will regret forever because I love you and I’m never going to stop.” He ranted, taking a bigger step towards her. 

  Her eyes were glued to his. She believed every word leaving his mouth with all her heart, but she couldn’t do anything about it. This was her wedding day. In a few hours, she was going to be walking down the aisle towards her Fiancé. “I don’t love him,” She answered his earlier question verbally. Gulping, she took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Her shoulders dropped as she exhaled, her eyes opening once again to see Steve still staring at her, his watery eyes flicking over every feature of her face. “I love you. I never stopped loving you despite you breaking my heart. I only dated Jessie to try and get over you and I ended up too deep into the relationship before I realized that I was never going to get over you.” Tears rolled down her face, her lip quivering uncontrollably. She was finally letting everything she felt out. Steve was always her confidant, her safety blanket. The person she felt the most comfortable around, the person she told everything to, the person who knew everything about her. 

  “Then come with me right now. Leave Jessie, don’t even walk down the aisle, don’t put that dress on. Run away with me, because you can bet your ass that I will get in there and ruin that wedding,” Steve spoke with such passion. His voice went soft, his eyes softening. “Because I am not going to lose you again.” 

  “I-” She started to say, but she stopped, her mouth open as she thought it over. 

  “Please, Y/n, I love you, you love me. We’ll run away and I’ll move out to the city with you, I’ll go anywhere as long as I’m with you. Just please don’t walk down that aisle.” He spilled his heart out, his throat dry. His heart thumped on his rib-cage painfully. He honestly didn’t expect for her to tell him she still loved him. He just couldn’t let her get married without knowing how he felt and he couldn’t live with himself if he let her marry someone she didn’t love. 

  “I want to, I want to so badly.” Her shoulders shook as she started to break down. She had a way to live the life she wanted with the man she loved, but she knew that so much time and money went into this wedding. So many people were making sure everything is perfect, what would they think if she just ran away? 

  “Then do it, baby,” Steve’s voice broke. “Just come with me and we can live the life we talked about when we were younger. Your mother will get over it and if she doesn’t, we can ignore her like my parents. I can’t let you get married when I know you’d rather be with me. I’m not going to give up like I did five years ago, and I’m going to be the one you’re walking down the aisle to, not him.” 

  “Our relationship never was a traditional one, I guess this is fitting to us,” She let out a wet chuckle as she wiped at her cheeks, trying to keep her makeup intact. She was certainly glad that she used waterproof eye makeup. Sniffling, she blinked away her tears, smiling at Steve who was silent as he watched her with hopeful eyes. “Let’s do it, Harrington, let’s run away together.” He smiled wide at her words, walking briskly towards her, closing the distance rapidly. His arms wound around her waist, pulling her flush against him. His lips crashed against hers, her hands instantly flying to cup his face. It was almost like no time had gone by as their lips moved against each other, molding together perfectly. A perfect fit. Y/n felt just like a teenager again, the feelings she had five years ago rushing back. 

  Her back curved as she danced on her tip toes while Steve curved his back to match her, keeping them pressed up against each other. Y/n giggled into the kiss, smiling as they pulled away, still in each other’s arms. “Let’s get out of here,” Steve smiled, unwrapping himself from her. “Do you have any clothes?” He looked around the bridal suite for something for her to change into. 

  “Just the wedding dress.” She jabbed her thumb in the direction of the hanging dress. The doorknob rattled, making the pair snap their eyes towards it. The knob rattled more before the person on the other side started to slap the door with their palms. 

  “Y/n, why is this door locked? We need to get your dress on!” She heard the voice of her Maid of Honor on the other side, her palm hitting the door harder. Biting her red painted lip, she thought of the fly. Steve gave her a panicked look, waiting for her to do something. 

  “I’m busy trying to settle some nerves! Did you by any chance make sure the carpet doesn’t have any winkles in it that I can trip on?” She yelled through the door, needing her to leave. The banging stopped, but Y/n was positive she was still there. Sitting on the couch, she slipped her heels on, needing something to wear on her feet. 

  “I have no idea! I will check on that, Y/n.” She called through the door, the sound of her heels clicking wildly as she walked away, a mission set in her mind. Y/n stood up, her heels on her feet and a smile on her face. Steve stood there, looking at her with his hand stretched out for her to grab. 

  “Come on, L/n, we don’t have much time to make our escape,” He told her. She grabbed his hand, prompting him to lead her to the door. Their hearts were soaring, adrenaline pumping through their veins at the thought of being caught. Unlocking the door, his hand grasped the door handle, pausing before he twisted it. He looked back at her, the goofy gleam in his eyes once again. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of it and neither of them could wipe the wide smiles off their faces. “I love you so damn much.” Steve muttered softly. 

  “I love you too.” Her tone matched him. Turning back to face the door, Steve twisted the handle, opening the door and poking his head out. He scanned the hall carefully, before leading Y/n out, the pair of them rushing down the hall towards the stairwell, knowing everyone was taking the elevators. Their heart hammered against their chests and they kept throwing nervous looks over their shoulders. Their fast footsteps were loud in the echoing, bleak stairwell as they rushed down two flights of stairs, bursting out of the staff entrance. The nice summer air hitting Y/n’s bare legs that weren’t covered by her dressing robe. 

  Steve pulled her towards his car that was most likely illegally parked, but he didn’t care. “You still have the BMW?” She asked, perking her eyebrow at him as he yanked her door open, looking around nervously to check for anyone who would try and stop them. Steve ignored her, helping her slide into the car while keeping her robe tight to her. Steve rushed around to his side, sliding in and slamming the door. 

  “I can’t believe you agreed to come with me, I honestly thought you were going to marry that guy no matter what,” Steve told her, tearing out of the parking lot, speeding down the road. “I’m glad I crashed your wedding and got you back.” He admitted, his hand coming off the steering wheel to rest on her thigh, just like he did when they were younger. She looked down at his hand, smiling lightly before looking back at Steve who kept his eyes on the road. 

  “I’m glad you still loved me, I thought I was going to be stuck in that dreadful life forever.” She sighed, settling back into the seat. Steve scoffed, glancing at her quickly. 

  “Like I would let that happen,” He remarked, looking back at the road. “We’re Steve and Y/n, we’re meant to be together! Everyone knows that!” He exclaimed. Y/n laughed, nodding. 

  “We’re Steve and Y/n alright,” She agreed, smiling widely. “Wedding Crasher and Runaway Bride, together forever.”                    

[curiositydooropened]

Will’s Day

He caught his reflection in the full length mirror and paused to run fingertips along the scars of his abdomen. It was a daily occurrence, itching odd bits of skin that prickled, scrubbing himself in the shower, occasionally enjoying his hot tub alone, but since today was what it was, they struck different.

[In which Will is inundated with memories of a day he’s been trying to forget.]

Word Count: 5,116 words

Characters: Will, the Byers clan, and the rest of the Party

The buzzing of his cell phone against his writing desk indicated several texts coming in at one time, and Will stared at it over thick-rimmed glasses, graphite pencil poised in one hand. He regretted bringing it into his office, having done so out of habit. He’d answered e-mails from clients that morning while sipping his coffee, and he’d read the news after that. He was currently using it to broadcast ambient sounds around his studio while he sketched out his latest piece. He was annoyed at how dependent he’d become to the tiny hunk of metal and glass.

He supposed he wouldn’t have been annoyed if it wasn’t that day. That day, it came up every year, November 6th, the anniversary of the day he went missing. He tried to forget it, push it back into the recesses of his mind, lock away the horrors he’d been forced to speak about his entire life, the horrors that inspired his comic book series, made him famous. He owed his career to that day, and yet he wished it never happened.

It was also impossible to forget about that day when, like clockwork, every November 6th, he’d been inundated with texts of love from people he’d rarely spoken to since they went to college in different cities, had careers across the world, learned to distance themselves from their tortured pasts.

So, tossing his pencil gently aside, he took a deep breath, leaning back in his squeaky wooden chair, and he grabbed for his cell phone to read the latest well-wish from someone he missed who’d moved on with their life. Surprisingly, his first message was from his brother.

Jonathan: Mom said we’re going to yours for dinner. Want me to talk her out of it?

He loved his brother’s astute sense of awareness, but he knew there was no use. Mom would pound the door down just to see him. Especially today. He couldn’t do that to her. 

No. Don’t want to upset her. Come on over around 6. Bring the family. 

It had been a while since he’d seen his niece and nephews. Maybe having family around was what he needed to rid his shoulders of tension and his dreams of rows of teeth and growing vines. 

On days like today, he hid his comics in a chest in the corner. It felt childish, but on Halloween, he’d rolled up his posters and pulled down his shelf of accomplishments, locking them away in the oversized trunk with his old purple wizard’s outfit and the super comm. He couldn’t have flower-shaped faces and the ghostly face of a teenaged girl staring back at him while he worked.

Another buzz in his hand startled his focus from the chest in the corner, and the device in his hand notified him of an incoming phone call from his mother. He removed his glasses, rubbing at tired eyes, and answered her call for the third time today.

“Will?”

“Hi, mom,” he sighed. The room around him went quiet from the lack of music, and there was the faint buzz of static in his ear, sending chills down his neck. His mom’s voice went in and out of the receiver. “Mom?” He felt frantic. He pushed off from his chair.

“Will, honey, can you hear me?”

“Mom, where are you?”

“Sorry, we’re at the grocery store. I never get any damn service in here.”

His breathing regulated, relief coursing through him. So it was going to be like that today. He sighed, exiting his office to find the pill cabinet above the kitchen sink. “What’s up?” He asked over the phone, filling a glass of water.

“Jonathan texted and said he’s bringing Nancy and the kids. Mike and El are coming too, is that okay?”

He sighed. He supposed he couldn’t avoid seeing his adopted siblings either, even though their faces haunted his dreams worse than the others. Their relationship had been strained in the past few years, not wanting their stories told as detailed in his comics. He understood it was for El’s safety, but they had to understand his need to tell his truth, his full truth, even if the general public thought it was a brilliant work of science fiction. “Of course. The more the merrier.” Did she want to invite Dustin and Lucas too?

“Is there anything you want us to pick up at the store? Hop’s thinking prime rib.”

“Sounds great, mom, as long as he’s cooking it.”

“You know I don’t let your mom cook anything,” Hop yelled over the noise of the store. “Don’t want to burn your nice house down.” Lovely, she’d dialed him on speaker phone at the grocery store. He supposed he should be grateful it wasn’t a video chat.

“Good call, Hop,” he grit his teeth, downing his dosage of anxiety medication and chugging water to wash them down. 

“Listen, sweetie, we’ve got to go. We’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay, love you.”

“Love you too.” Click.

Once again, his house was drowned in silence. He hit play on his music and waltzed back into the office. The trunk continued to stare from the corner as he hunched back over his work, throwing his glasses on to sketch small details for his latest client. Oftentimes, he’d do artwork for several ghostwritten comics. He did an issue of X-Men once, which had been his ultimate dream. Getting the news of that was probably the best day of his life. He didn’t have anything else to compare it to, no weddings, no babies.

He glanced upward at the picture of his family rooted to his shelf next to a myriad of awards. His mom and Hopper took up the center, one massive and one tiny, hands intertwined on her shoulder. Mike and Eleven were to the left, cradled in each other’s arms with beaming faces. Jonathan and Nancy were clutching at her swollen stomach. Their other two kids made funny faces at the camera, striking goofy poses. Will was in the back, a half-hearted smile on his face, wondering when he’d have a partner to show the family. That was ten years ago, before Teddy had been born. 

Two hours into his work, desk vibrations signaled a new message. He stretched his hands, cracking at tired knuckles. He’d made some significant headway on his drawing, allowing his art to distract from the day or the time or even the real world around him. He supposed that’s why he’d turned to art in the first place, as a distraction.

Now, grappling for his phone, he glanced to see the familiar name pop up with a photo.

Dustin: Look who I stumbled upon! Miss you, buddy!

Dustin’s curls had been cropped short and tight, but he had the same infectious smile, one arm cocked around the shoulders of an aged Steve Harrington. The older man still had the hair, though it was graying significantly, and wrinkles had formed around his brown eyes. The selfie was cropped too tight for Will to make out a location, and he wondered if Dustin had gone to visit Hawkins that week, or perhaps Steve was in DC. He realized he wasn’t sure where Steve was living now, what he’d done with his life. 

Blast from the past. Miss you too. Hope they haven’t kicked you out of Washington yet.

The response came quicker than he anticipated. 

I would say ‘never’, but with this administration, who the hell knows? Hope Chicago’s treating you well. Any good comics to watch out for?

Dustin always was his biggest fan. Although he didn’t appreciate the portrayal of the loud-mouthed, chubby kid, Will knew Dustin was ecstatic to be the star of a comic book. They always geeked out together about X-Men among other things. They’d drifted apart of the years when Dustin moved away and had a family, but they’d always have long nights perched under Cerebro, making calls to Salt Lake City. 

New volume closer to Christmas. I’m actually working on something for DarkHorse at the moment. 

Awesome, man. I’ve gotta head back to work. Maybe I’ll call you later.

Will knew he wouldn’t hear from him again until his birthday in March, except for the family picture Christmas card, Dustin’s wife, Jody, will send in December. He had a growing pile stashed in one of his drawers, ready to pull out in case any of his friends visited. They never did.

He paused his work to eat some lunch, a haphazard egg salad sandwich that had somehow dribbled down the front of his t-shirt. He’d have to change before mom showed up or she’d worry he wasn’t taking care of himself. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, setting his phone down on the couch-side table, and walked down the hall to his bedroom. He pulled the shirt over his head and tossed it into the laundry pile, auto-walking into his oversized closet for something more patterned, in case he spilled his snack later. He didn’t want to change twice.

He caught his reflection in the full length mirror and paused to run fingertips along the scars of his abdomen. It was a daily occurrence, itching odd bits of skin that prickled, scrubbing himself in the shower, occasionally enjoying his hot tub alone, but since today was what it was, they struck different. 

He’d had a few scars from his first trip to the upside down, mainly under his jaw, from where that feeding tube had suction cupped to his face. He had a burn scar in his side from where Nancy prodded him with a white hot iron fire poker, Thanks Nance. He had several scars on his knees from glass shards on the floor of Starcourt Mall and a burn on his hand from a mis-placed firework fuse. All of these injuries paled in comparison to the long claw mark leading from the collar bone to his navel. It had been over thirty years, but he could still feel the frigid sting, could still see the open mouth, rows of teeth, playing with its food. 

The loud ring of his phone down the hall startled him back to reality, and he threw on a nearby black t-shirt, scurrying past any mirrors until he reached his phone. MADMAX flashed on the screen. He sighed and clicked to answer.

“Hey,” he mumbled.

“Today’s the day, right?” Ah, yes, the ever-tactic Maxine.

“Yeah,” he sighed, crashing back into his leather sofa. 

“How’s Joyce handling it?”

“Same as every year. The whole family’s coming for dinner.”

“Well that’ll be nice. Wish I was there.”

“Wish you were too.” 

They’d had an unexpected, and somewhat tedious, relationship after Billy died. Max asked Will a lot of prying and personal questions, but he understood she just wanted to know what her brother had felt, how he couldn’t have been in control of his body when he carried all of those people to their deaths. Will could give her that feeling, explain what Billy was experiencing. 

They developed a friendship beyond that, discussing comic books. Max taught him how to skate board and ace arcade games. For a while into puberty, Will thought Max could be the one. She and Lucas had broken up for good, and Will knew he loved her, knew he got along with her better than almost everyone in the group. She knew what it felt like to be an outsider. She’d experienced trauma in ways the others would never understand.

They shared other fundamental qualities as well, they learned the closer they got, such as deadbeat dads and protective older brothers. Neil was a lot worse than Lonnie, and Max spent nights without Billy asking God why the Mind Flayer didn’t take Neil instead. Her prayers were answered the following year.

“Are you moping today or being productive?” Max asked, in the way Will was sure she’d ask her children on a bad day of classes. Were they in college now?

“A little of both,” he chuckled. “What about you?”

“You know me, always working. I’m on call actually, so I might have to go soon. But I wanted to make sure you were you know... not missing.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Tell Joyce and the family hi.”

“Will do.”

“Love you, Zombie Boy.”

“Love you, Max.”

The house fell silent once more.

At promptly six o’clock, a ring at the door signaled the first group of family members. Will turned the volume down on the Jonathan-centric playlist he chose and padded toward the door, socks catching slightly on the carpet in the entry way. He toyed with a few smiles before settling for the least-extreme and opened the door to greet his brother and sister-in-law.

“Hi, how are you?” Nancy asked, promptly kissing both cheeks before shoving past him to put her fruit salad in the fridge.

“Great,” he lied. “How are you guys?”

Teddy stood in front of Jonathan, staring at the device in his hand instead of greeting his uncle, and Will moved out of the way to let them in as well.

“We’re good, right Teddy?”

The ten-year-old harrumphed in agreement. Will glanced over his shoulder to see he was playing a game about the living dead, how apt. 

“What’ve you been up to today?” Jonathan asked, waltzing into the kitchen behind his wife to find a bottle of scotch. He always knew where Will hid his favorite stash. He pulled two, “three?” “I have to drive”, two glass tumblers from the cabinet and poured a glass for them each.

“Just working on this project for DarkHorse.” Will sighed, taking the beverage from his brother.

“That’s right, the anti-hero one, right?”

“Yeah. Nancy, can I offer you anything?”

She waved him off. “Teddy, want a coke?”

The kid made a noise that sounded like “uh” in agreement, and Nancy pulled two sodas from the fridge, popping the tabs.

“What should we toast to?” Jonathan grinned, holding his glass up to cheers. “To... finding you?”

Will made a face. “To mom?”

“I like that,” Jonathan smirked. “To our crazy ass mom.”

Will didn’t like the addition, but he clinked glasses anyway. Nancy threw her can in absentmindedly and the three of them took a long swig before Nancy flittered back to the living room. The whisky burned its way down to a warm pocket just below his rib cage. It sat there, ruminating. He wondered if he’d need more anxiety medication to survive the night. 

The doorbell rang again. Nancy opened it, and around the corner he heard the chirps and cries of greetings that signaled the arrival of mom and Hop and Mike and Eleven. He cursed under his breath.

“Oh, Bea’s running late, by the way. Nancy think she might have a boyfriend and that idea makes me want to die. So he might come too, hope that’s okay.” Jonathan threw in as an aside.

Will shrugged. “That’s fine, whatever. What about Mickey?”

“Oh, Mick’s at school. You’ll probably see him on Thanksgiving.”

“Right, okay.” Mickey was probably Will’s favorite nephew. He grew up fascinated about Will’s comics and was going to school to be a writer himself. They’d grown distance in the past couple of years, but Will held a fondness unmatched in the boy’s siblings, although he obviously loved them too.

“Will?” Joyce called from the living room. The chatter had grown tenfold in the other room, and Will figured there was no use trying to avoid it any longer. He took another full gulp of his drink before tip-toeing to greet his house guests.

“Hey, mom-“ Immediately, he’d been crushed in a rib breaking embrace from his mother, who kissed at his cheek and commented on his appearance. “Okay, mom, okay. Missed you too.” Since last Saturday. He chuckled, gently pushing the woman away, and she stepped back to reveal Hopper’s uncomfortable stance.

“Son,” he held a hand out to shake and Will returned the awkward gesture. They’d been through so much together, he and his stepfather, but Hopper never quite fell into the fatherly role as he had with Eleven. He was protective sure, and caring. He was understanding and kind and strong, and he took amazing care of Joyce in their old age, but he was always a little distant. Will supposed Russia did that to him, and New York before that, and Vietnam before that, and hell, probably Hawkins before that.

“Where’d you get that whisky?” Hopper asked, a familiar twinkle in his eye, alleviating the tension between them.

“Jonathan’s in the kitchen,” Will laughed.

“Oh, Jonathan!” Mom called, leading her husband into the next room.

Before Will could process what was happening, a pair of slender arms had been thrown around his neck, and a soft bosom heated his chest. “Hi, brother,” Eleven sighed into his ear, sending shivers down his spine. With his free hand, he knelt into the embrace, squeezing her around the middle. He buried his face in chocolate curls and breathed her in. This wasn’t the greeting he was expecting from her, but he was glad it was the one she’d gone with.

She pulled away, holding him at arm’s length, and tears had sprung in her brown eyes. 

“Don’t do that,” he groaned, attempting a grimaced smile. “I’m fine, really.” 

“I know, I’m sorry,” she laughed, waving away tears. “I’ve just been thinking about you all day, and I love you is all.”

“I love you too, freak,” he smiled, kicking at her sneakered foot. “Shoes off at the door though.”

She swatted at him, but retreated to the door to pull off her shoes, trailing November soil and leaves with her. He made a mental note to vacuum once everyone had left. 

“Hey,” came a timid throat clear as Mike stepped forward from his spot watching Teddy play video games. 

“Hey,” Will responded. 

This was more of the greeting he had expected. He hadn’t spoken to Mike in months, and he was shocked he even agreed to show up. They’d had a fight during the latest issue release, when Mike read the manuscript and all of the details about Eleven’s past. El was sour too, a little overwhelmed, but Mike, who always had El’s well-being in mind, threw a fit. He threw words too, so many hurtful words, words that still stung as Will looked at him now.

He was the same Mike Wheeler he’d always been, too tall, gangly, freckled. Only now his unkempt hair was speckled with grey and glasses round his dark eyes turning his furrowed brow into the spitting image of ole Ted Wheeler, though he didn’t have kids of his own to ignore. 

“I’m going to get a drink,” Mike sighed, peeling off toward the bustling sounds of the kitchen.

“Michael!” Nancy hissed, sounding eerily like Karen scolding down the basement stairs.

Will closed his eyes and took a deep breath in and out. He definitely needed his pills.

El came over and linked her arm with his, resting her head on his shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“You too,” he smiled softly when she pulled his drink from his hand to take a swig.

“How are you?”

“Good.”

“How are you today though?”

He was getting frustrated of the question, wanting desperately for today to be like any other day. “I’m good.”

She cocked a knowing eyebrow behind his tipped glass. 

“I got a text from Dustin today. I guess Steve was in DC. Max called. It was a good day.”

El nodded, seemingly satisfied with his response, and sandwiched her palm into his. “Let’s join the party.” Despite his groan of protest, she tugged him toward the kitchen, leaving Teddy in the living room with his video game. Jonathan found the controls to crank the music.

Hopper’s prime rib was delicious, as usual, and the alcohol and food had the family in a near coma scattered around Will’s living room furniture. Hopper had moseyed off to his favorite armchair, pulling the lever to recline, snoring almost immediately. Joyce lovingly posted herself on the mantle at his feet, warming herself on the wood burning fire. 

Teddy’s eyes hadn’t left his phone the entire meal, much to Nancy’s chagrin, and after dinner, he somehow found his way back to the couch to continue his game. Bea stumbled in midway through the meal, brown hair a mess and neck wrapped dutifully in an oversized scarf to hide a hickey. Nancy and her had quite the fight in the entryway while everyone listened on with knowing smirks. After the meal, she found herself posted up next to Teddy, the two of them kicking ankles and making annoyed faces. They truly were the spitting image of Nancy and Mike.

“So, Bea, Jonathan tells me you’re taking the year off school?” El started, tucking herself into Mike on the opposing love seat. 

“Yeah,” Bea chewed on the inside of her cheek, anxiously eyeing her mother. “I just don’t know what I want to do yet, so why waste the money?”

“It’s not a waste-“ Nancy started, but Jonathan stopped her with a hand to the knee and a kiss on the cheek.

“I think that’s a great idea,” Will challenged, alcohol lighting the fire within him like a hot poker to his side. “I mean, I didn’t go to college and look at me now.” He gestured to the grand house around them, empty except for special holidays like this one, the anniversary of the time he was kidnapped by an inter dimensional creature. 

“Yeah, look at you now,” Mike spat from beside Eleven, his eyes narrowed behind thick glasses. 

“Mike, not now,” Eleven wrapped her arm around her husband’s wrist. 

“Yeah, Mike, not now,” Will spat. “I’m fragile today. Didn’t you hear? Dustin did, Max did. You’re all here for a reason!” He was standing now, he didn’t know when that happened. 

Mike stood too, pushing off from his seat. “Yeah, we get it, Will. You’ve been fragile for the last thirty years. Not too fragile to compromise the rest of us, but at least you’re doing fucking better.”

“Michael!” Eleven and Nancy chided in unison, but Hopper had beat them to it, fisting each of the boys on the back collar like they were thirteen again. 

“Alright you two, let’s take a walk.” 

“Whoa, what’s up with them?” Will heard Teddy pipe up, the first real word he’d said all night, as he and Mike were lead out of the room.

Hopper had surprising brute strength for a nearly 70-year-old, and maybe it was the alcohol lingering between the two younger men that had them stumbling into Will’s office. “Now, stay in here and talk about it like men, or don’t. I don’t give a shit. I just don’t need you upsetting your mother. Not today.” Hopper prodded at Will’s chest before backing out of the room and slamming the door.

Will ran a hand through a mop of hair, huffing out a breath of frustration. 

Mike paced the room slowly, carefully taking in the shelved walls, stopping at the family portrait above Will’s drawing desk. Beside it was an empty spot where Will’s portrait of “the Party” would have sat, the frame now tucked safely into the trunk in the corner. 

“I’m sorry, okay,” he started, slowly. “You’re right. You’ve always been right. I ‘compromised’ Eleven, or whatever you want to call it, and it’s shitty, and I’m sorry. My company wanted more storyline, more science fiction...”

“Shut up, man,” Mike scoffed. “It doesn’t matter. It’s done, it’s published. We’re fine. I Just wish you had... I don’t know, asked us first. Or drudged some more of your own trauma.”

“Oh believe me, that shit’s endless. My publishers wanted something more interesting than Will the Wise.” He rolled his eyes, staring into the blank space beside Mike’s arm. 

“What’s this?” Mike asked after a long silence, pointing to the nearly complete sketch on the table. He had one hand in his pocket, and Will knew it was clenching and unclenching into a fist around his car keys.

“It’s a comic I’m working on. It’s about this girl who is more of an antihero. She fights this vigilante guy kind of like Indiana Jones.”

“She looks pretty cool,” Mike mused softly.

“Thanks,” Will felt his cheeks warm at the unexpected compliment. He’d always struggled with drawing women, refusing to objectify them the way comics of their past had. He always saw woman as strong, mighty beings, like his mom. 

“Listen,” Mike turned to him finally, leaning his lanky frame against the drawing table. It tilted slightly, graphite pencil rolling to the ground. “I’m sorry I’ve been a dick. I know you didn’t mean harm. You never do. These past few years have just been... Getting old is bullshit.”

Will knew what he meant. It’d never been easy for them. In their late twenties, they struggled to conceive. In their thirties, they spent years in court trying to pass legislation to stop the funding of projects such as those she’d been apart of. In their forties, her hormones caused her powers to go haywire. She’d accidentally set their home aflame. They’d been through enough. 

“It really is,” Will sighed. 

“I should probably take her home. She gets emotional when she’s tired.” 

Will laughed dryly. “Yeah, I better say goodbye to mom and Hop.” 

“Should we go out holding hands?”

Will felt the familiar lump in his throat, and he blew out a sort of snort in protest. Mike slapped him on the back and exited the room first. He’d never told anyone but Max about his feelings for Mike, probably never would. They’d changed by now, melded into the brotherly love they shared in elementary school, but for a while, a long while, Will looked at him differently. 

He’d pushed the thoughts away, thwarted by constant name-calling from his dad and classmates. He thought he was in love with Princess Leia, thought he was in love with Max. It wasn’t until he tried to kiss Max, planted a big one on her that she corrected him, holding him at arms length to tell him the truth about himself. 

He wasn’t sure how she knew, when he himself didn’t even know, couldn’t be. She said Billy had been into guys, back in California, that he was the reason they had to move. He and Will had more in common than a name and a shit dad and a possession. She said she saw Billy with a boyfriend once, and it was the happiest he’d been. She said it was the same way Will looked at Mike.

Mike didn’t hug Will goodbye that night, but Eleven did, bleary eyed and warm. She pressed a kiss to his forehead on tip toe and told him to call her tomorrow. He probably wouldn’t. Jonathan was next, a tight hug and a firm slap on the back. Nancy kissed his cheeks again while ushering Teddy to the car. 

“Bye, Uncle Will, thanks for having us over,” Bea threw an arm around his neck. She smelled like Nancy in high school, gun powder and cigarettes. 

He grinned. “Anytime, Bea. Come over anytime you need to hide out from your parents.”

“Bea!” Nancy called from the driveway.

“Thanks,” Bea smiled, rushing out the door toward her own clunker of a car. 

Last was Mom and Hop. Hopper gave the awkward handshake again before bursting into the snow to start the car, heating it up for mom. She turned to Will with tears in her eyes that mirrored El’s, and Will felt the lump growing in his throat. 

“Mom,” he groaned.

“I know, honey, I know. I just love you, and I’m so proud of you.”

It was somehow harder to see an elderly woman tear up. She’d aged well, but remained the same perfect mom shape to hold. She wore the same things she wore in 1983, a flannel layered over a dark t-shirt, and her leather jacket smelled of Hop’s cigarettes even though the two of them quit smoking years ago. It was the same smell she had the morning he said goodbye to her before heading to the Wheeler’s for a campaign of D&D. It was the same smell he came home to in a panic, searching for his mom and Jonathan with that thing hot on his heels.

“I love you,” he whispered into her hair, taking one last breath of her before composing himself and holding her at arms length. “Better not keep Hop waiting. Call me tomorrow?”

“Always,” she kissed his cheek before carefully stepping across the drive to Hopper’s car. Will waved to her as she got in, seeing her blow a kiss from behind the passenger side window.

The house was quiet, too quiet, only the crackling of the fire keeping time with the song playing at low volumes. Will had poured himself a night cap, the last of the bottle, and was sunken into the brown leather of his sofa. 

The familiar guitar riffs of an old haunt chimed over the sound system, and despite the tickle at the back of his neck, he reached over to turn up the volume. The oversized house was suddenly drowned in the familiar British lyrics of The Clash. He nodded his head to the tune, shaggy hair covering his eyes, alcohol warming his face. 

No lights flickered, no monster chased him. His mom was safe at home, Jonathan probably snug in his bed with his beautiful wife. Will chased his whisky with music and the taste of childhood trauma. 

His eyelids felt heavy, chest heated with exhaustion, and he thought he might fall asleep there with his black t-shirt covering the scars on his chest and the scary things locked away in a trunk in his office. 

A buzz on his rib cage brought his attention to a new message, and he opened it with a fond smile. 

Lucas: Drove past the Quarry today, and your old house. They haven’t changed a bit.

Sounds like Hawkins.

Lucas: You’re not wrong. Hey, me and kids are coming to Chicago to visit Erica for Thanksgiving. Mind if we stop by?

Will smiled. He hadn’t seen Lucas in years.

Lucas: Up for a round of D&D?

Stop in whenever. My door’s always open.

Will set his phone on the couch-side table and closed his eyes, allowing himself to drift off. He had no demogorgons to fear, no razor sharp claws to cut him in the night, no army of the living dead knocking on his door, just a trunk full of memories and a family to check in on him at his time of need. 

[Author’s Notes: Hope you enjoyed my first little fanfiction for Stranger Things Day 2019! I’ve written plenty of ST fic before, but this is my first time posting any on this platform. Please let me know what you think! I’m excited to be posting more of my work here in the future. I basically just have all the feels and need someone to talk to about it. I ship all the ships and I love all the characters, I could go on about it for hours (and I do, and my husband thinks I need friends.) so come chat! xo]

[kainfamilyfortune]

Thea - Journal Entries #19-21

“All that are worthy of taking the steps to repentance shall be cleansed of sin, doubt, and most importantly set upon a new path. These steps are never to be taken lightly. Nigh, you must come to me with grace and certainty that this path is without any shred of doubt, yours alone. 

The journey will be long, possibly encompassing between the veils of both life and death - you must have perseverance to allow me to guide you. For if you are to be cleansed, allowing the Light within to permeate all that you are and all that you ever will be, you must be willing to trust what sometimes may never be trusted. Forgive the damned. Love those who have never known such emotions. 

Your path lays before you. Only now, you have met me. Let go of thy fears, and take my hand. I will guide you home.”

     - Unknown,  ext. Azerothian Lightbringer pg. 3

19. Home

Pa sat in his musty worn chair basking in the warmth of the fireplace when I entered through the tiny back garden door. It was late, I had just finished the ending council meetings and debriefings from the front line in Stormwind keep. Pye had given me a glowing recommendation to our king, Anduin Wrynn, who smiled at me as he crossed the long distance between his throne and where I knelt before him. “Rise, Ms. Kain. Although we face casualties, you and your team have given us hope that this war could soon end. We need people like you, but you must be rested and healed. You-your foot, how bad is it?” I winced slightly as I rose to be face to face with my king. “The on-board medical staff reset it... after I reset it in the field, it’s at least broken in three places, my King.” He winced in sympathy towards my condition, before slowly turning away and heading back to his seat. “Ms. Kain, I’m appointing you to take at least four weeks off for you to heal. Do with what you want that time, but I will require your assistance for upcoming deployments in the future, Commander.” He said the last line with a smile, Pye even joined in the praise as he lent his arm as a crutch for support. 

-

I snapped out of the memory looking towards my father in the dim firelight. Sound asleep, with a glass of lambic still half full. I sat in my chair next to his, setting the wooden cane Pruet had gifted me as we got ashore on the small wooden end stand between Pa and I, taking off my glove and nimbly unknotting his fingers around the glass. He snorted and began to lull back, as I stifled a laugh in my chest. I took the remainder of the glass in one swig and leaned forward admiring the flames, setting the empty glass on the table and grabbing the fire poker and stirring the embers, flipping a new log atop. Although spring was quickly approaching, winter winds still pressed upon our fair capitol. 

I leaned back, slowly taking my boots off, then my pauldrons, and finally my chainmail chest-guard. The soggy bandages with sweat and blood needed to be changed and I desperately needed to bathe, but that could wait until morning. Before getting too lost in the fire I grabbed the glass and got up, leaning on the back of my chair for support and walked over to our kitchen, pouring myself more of the lambic. I tilted the small pony keg to get the last remnants of the contents in my glass. I would surely need to pay a visit to the Pig and Whistle to have them deliver another. Maybe two. I had quite a bit of money now from the recent deployment, along with a bonus because of the new promotion so that was nice. I limped back over with the full cup to my chair, nursing the glass over many hours as I reflected on the events of the battle we had won. King Rastakhan was dead, and although Jaina had been dealt with a near fatal Horde counter offensive, she had made it out by the skin of her teeth. We had dealt a wound to the Horde that they surely would not recover from so easily.

I awoke with a stiff neck and the smell of eggs and the sound of bacon frying in a pan, the first of morning light cascading into the our dusty little hovel in Old Town. I raised my eyebrows attempting to open my eyes fully, rubbing them so they could focus a bit better. “When did you get home last night, didn’t even hear you come in!” Pa gleefully pronounced as he set the plate of breakfast before me. I smiled, “Thank you Pa. I uhh-I came home pretty late, must have been past twelve-bells. I didn’t want to wake you.” He laughed, placing a plate of his own on the end stand. “Well now I’ve got you to thank for for the crick in my neck. But I guess that’s nothing compared to what you must have been through! Fresh bandages are in the wash room, I went ahead and started to draw you a bath, you stink like a sailor, and look like you haven’t bathed in a month!” He laughed shoveling his food into his mouth, dripping egg into his shaggy unkempt beard. 

“Gee, thanks Pa.” I said a little condescendingly, before jesting with him, honestly happy to see that I made it out alive to be here, sharing this moment with him. “I umm-I haven’t bathed since Kul Tiras. So yeah, no wonder.” I began eating my breakfast, not realizing how hungry I was, before too long we had finished and Arthur went to the wash room to cut off the water, coming back out with fresh linens, trading it with my now empty plate. “Pa.” I said with a soft tone. “Thea?” He replied, holding both plates heading towards the sink. “I-I’m glad to be home. The things I saw... I really didn’t know if I was-” He cut me off, setting the plates down atop the pile of dishes on the sink and embraced me. “I... I didn’t know if you’d come back. After reading your letter, I started to procure arrangements with Father Fortea. I cried for two days, thinking I was going to lose my daughter to this war. When I awoke this morning to find you by my side... Thea. I’m so happy. So happy that you are home.” Tears began to streak on my cheeks, as I embraced my father, the only waves of emotions I’ve let out in front of him since Dustin was killed in action. 

He wiped the tears away from my now laden cheeks, “Bath is waiting, get in before it get’s cold. I... I have news as well regarding your letter, once you’re washed up.After that I’ll have you run into town, if you’re up for it?” I nodded before he helped me up from the chair and then walked me over to the wash room. I shut the door and took off the remainder of chainmail leggings and then my undergarments and soiled bandages. I dipped my toes into the water gauging the temperature, steam gently wafting around me as I entered. Blood began to rise to the surface after I had submerged myself. I poured a little extra soap into the tub. Suds began to form as I gently appraised the wounds that had already begun healing up. Luckily not too many stitches were needed when we had retreated to safety of the ship. A week had passed and the wounds have already closed up around my hand and leg, so I began the slow process of taking out the excess stitch-work. 

An hour had passed, scrubbing every inch of dirt and grime out of my pores. The medical staff only had cleaned around my wounds so I wouldn’t get any infections, so the rest of my body was filthy. My pruned fingers and toes meant that is was time to get out. I lifted myself up, pulling the plug for the drain on my way out as I grasped the towel my father had given to me, wrapping it around myself. I watched the combination of dirt and encrusted blood slowly filter out into the drain along with a few auburn red hairs. 

After carefully and slowly ascending the narrow steps to my room I looked at myself for the first time in what seemed like an age in my full length mirror, admiring each of my wounds with hyper focus. I never really disliked my body, but never praised it either. I never tried to feel pretty or embrace myself in lavish or revealing clothes. I always considered myself plain, average. My scars always stopped me from feeling like I was beautiful, but I recognized that I’ve been stared at in the past. I never admired my curves. I never saw my dimples. I never embraced my soft skin. My armor was like a second skin to me now. Only showing my title, and not my own expression. I feel like today, I’ll wear something nice. A tan sundress, with orange lilies. Yeah. I like this.

As I walked down the steps, I could peer through our tiny side window to the back of the abode, Pa was pruning and weeding the small garden, adorned with his dilapidated straw hat. It was closely approaching mid-day, grabbing my new cane and walked out the back door and my father gave me a bright smile, “Thea, you look lovely. Here,” He gestured towards the chairs in the garden, wiping the sweat and fresh soil off his brow, his expression turned much more serious, worried. “Tell me about your dream.”

20. Collective

I recalled everything, every detail of the encampment, how the two brothers acted, as well as the death of Andrew’s brother, Silas. He nodded, his face becoming more troubled. He got up out of his bench seat, pulling up the lid and pulling out a very worn tome, he dusted his hands and opened it, lifting his eyes to glance upon me and then back to the book as he filtered through the pages, before stopping and lifting a finger to point upon a singular passage as he recited, “Andrew Cordovo Kain, first of his name, son of Jules Derek Kast, and Ingrid Bell Kast, who took on his mother’s maiden name after Jules had past of the first reported case of Tyr’s Disease. When Andrew began to show signs of the disease himself, his devoted brother...” He paused, before saying aside, “The name, it’s redacted.” I looked to him, slightly defeated, but I nodded for him to continue, “Second of his name, and acting, but not appointed, High Priest of the Arathor city-state gave his life to save his brother, and succeeded. Nothing else is known of this day. Andrew went on to lead the citizens of Arathor to Alterac, Dalaran, and finally Stormwind. After years of conquest, and aid in the formation of the church of holy light, he passed away peacefully at the age of 63. Succeeded by his wife, Maria Nicole Kain, and their four children...” He stopped, looking up to me, “You believe that his brother, his name was Silas?” 

I looked out to the garden not wanting to meet his gaze, but I nodded, “I’m... I’m almost certain. Unless I’m... I’m just going crazy. But...” I had a thought, possibly a way to know for sure, “The church, they... they must keep records of who was in their ranks, even from the beginning, and not just in Stormwind, but everywhere.” Arthur looked to me with a mild surprise, “Yes, yes, I would assume that they archive them, Arathor was a millennia ago, but they must have had records. The... The only issue is that, even if our personal family records are redacted, then it’s highly likely that the public ones would be so as well. But I’ll ask around. Is there anything else?” He looked to me with the same worried look in his eyes, the only thing I left out was the voice, the voice that made the deal with Silas, it chilled every fiber of my being thinking back to it, as if she was looking at me now. “No. Th-That was all, thank you Pa. You didn’t have to-” He shushed me, “I insist. Now get Cordon to help you with those kegs when you go into town, okay?” I smiled to him and nodded.

“Okay.” I said, as we both got up and he hugged me gently. My tan sundress flowing in the wind as I opened the gates out of the gardens, and into the cobble stone streets of the bustling capitol.

21. Road to Ruin

I went to bed early, no more past seven bells, slightly drunk from the two glasses of Bradensbrook Gorse that was gifted from Cordon after a long chat of goings’ on in the rest of the world. As I laid my head down to rest finally, I began to dream again.

The rush of a waterfall and the sound of rain greeted me as I opened my eyes laying witness to a damp field of grass and mud before the pond with the sheer rock face climbing to the higher reaches of grey sky. As I rolled upon my back I watched the rolling clouds whisper distant thundering tales to one another. Lightning bolted between them in anger. I sat up slowly, soaked and decided to limp over towards the pathway adjacent to the cascading falls of the pond.

As I walked the path, the loose cobblestones made my broken leg, shattered foot, shoot in sharp pains. I wanted to stop, but I needed to find respite. I was compelled to continue forward. My hips ached, to compensate for the poor weight distribution to continue up the small hill and I crested I was greeted by another larger hill. Light help me.

I stood there a moment waiting an answer, an answer that would never come. So I bit my lower lip and grunted down the hill and persevered through the next more daunting hill, soaked in a downpour that was only getting worse by the minute. My muscles flared in anguish as I reached the top of the path and I collapsed to my knees as I was met with a third, even larger hill.

I touched my leg with the open palm attempting to channel the healing energies I have known all throughout my life but I was empty. My connection, broken. I could feel anxiety welling into my throat, burning with an abhorrent acidity. I would surely die a peaceful death upon this lonely road. I winced, groaning and muttering curses as I got up, leaning upon a nearby post for support. Dusk was quickly approaching and I needed shelter. I needed rest.

My thoughts drifted, trying to block out the fire I was feeling all over my wounded body, drifted towards the unknown, what if this series of hills never ends, only becoming larger and larger, forever? That could not be, I was close. So very close. “Aghhhh!” I had to scream aloud, as I felt the shattered foot splinter more from the weight of the burden I was carrying. Rest. You need rest.

I fell to my knees before cresting the hill, tears of agonizing pain dripping down my face. One by one I gripped the stones, crawling up the remainder of this hill that would never end, inching my way one step closer, my breathing became rapid, the elevation of these trails leaving me catching every last bit of oxygen.

I looked upon the summit and saw hope. A hut of architecture that was familiar, I just could not place where I had seen it before. The lantern lit interior was warm and welcome as I clutched upon the next banister at the top of the hill. The sloped roof cascaded the dripping of the shower as thunder began to roll ominously in the distance. I continued pushing forward, down the path.

My body collapsed in the oval entry way, as I tried to regain my breath from the trial that was before me and there, sitting in the chair facing away at the well worn writing nook was... me, and as the figure shifted, setting down the quill back into the nearby inkwell, she stood to face me. Her straw hat covered her eyes. She wore plain clothes, well equipped for the humidity, and she whispered one word. 

“Owl.”

-OOC-

Took a very long break from most social media. So this post has been a bit dusty and long overdo - which I might continue in due time. But other matters have prevented such. Thanks for reading <3

Want to catch up? 

Devotions Book I

-Forest