#and not having a mental break down in indiana so?

[spaceorphan18]

.

[stevesgother]

Little Red Lighthouse - S.H

Pairing - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings - exes to lovers, second chance romance, angst, slow burn, hurt/comfort, idiots in love, so much pining, cursing, alcohol & drug use, mental health themes

WC - 1.3k

AN - this was originally gonna be a super long oneshot, but in typical emma fashion I'm making it into another mini series

Divider by the amazing @strangergraphics <3

The Alcott. That was your favorite bar in Hawkins; and it was all you could think about sitting outside this shitty bar in Chicago. A mere few hours from home, and yet entirely too far. Just having finished school; it was an education completely orchestrated by your parents. A college you didn’t want to attend, a degree you had no enthusiasm for.

This was how you seemed to be spending most of your days post-undergrad: sulking and ruminating. Everything you could’ve had, but don’t.

–

“Steve, this is insane. That’s like a 15 foot drop!” 

You say as you peer over the bridge, shivering slightly in just your underclothes. It was only the cusp of Spring, the weather in Indiana hardly what you would consider “warm”.

“Oh c’mon. You said you would!” He barked a laugh.

“I told my mother that if you jumped off a bridge that I would too as a hypothetical.” You deadpan, even though a smile still tugs the corners of your mouth.

He looked lovely, always did. Moles adorning his cheeks, scattering their way down his back and into his boxers where your vision couldn’t reach. He shot you a grin only reserved for you.

“3..2..1 JUMP!”

“Wait!-”

Steve gripped your hand, pulling you down with him into the icy water below the bridge. Unable to decipher if the sinking feeling in your gut was from the rapid fall of his skin on yours. The shock of the bitterly cold water knocked the wind out of you.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” His smile gleaming at you. Water dripped from his eyelashes, beading on the apples of his cheeks.

 “It’s freezing!” you gasp as you surface. He starts to grip your shoulders in his warm hands, then pauses. A sudden nervousness settled and he was staring. You nervously wondered if there was something else in the water with you both. He never broke his stare. Your best friend for a million lifetimes, beautiful as ever. Looking at you as if you hung the moon just for him.

“I think I'm in love with you.”

–

When Steve finally peeled open his eyes and glanced at the blinking red of the alarm clock it read ‘3:00 PM’. His breath tasted of stale liquor as he slowly rose from his unmade bed. Skull pounding, he blindly reached for the painkillers he had made a habit of keeping on his nightstand, for afternoons like this.

Your old friend group planned a ‘welcome home’ party in anticipation for your return to Hawkins. Where you had gone to college out of state and made a new life for yourself, Steve hadn’t seemed to be able to keep his ahead above the violent current that was the trauma he endured here, in your hometown.

--

As you rested on the train back to Indiana, walkman in hand, you felt an air of nausea.You had started to regret leaving your car at your parents house 4 years ago; unsure whether the knot you felt in your gut was the result of motion sickness, or the thought of having to face him again.

Admittedly you were excited to see your friends again. You hadn’t come home for Christmas, for Thanksgiving, not even for summer breaks – always opting to stay as far away from that living nightmare as possible. You told yourself little lies. That it wasn’t because Steve Harrington still resided there, and with him, everything you lost. Everything you know you can never get back.

--

The air in Steve’s office was stiff and smelled of stale coffee. Robin sits in a less than lady-like position across from him in a chair unofficially designated for her. A plaque that reads “Chief” sat crooked between them from where Robin had set down the paper bag containing their lunch.

“You’re going to have to face her at some point, Steve.” Her voice snaps him out of his dissociative state.

“Yeah, I got it.” He sighs irritably, all traces of enthusiasm drained from his tone.

“I’m just saying,” she starts, “it's been four years. I’m sure she’s moved on, man. No bad blood.” It’s meant to be reassuring, but she doesn’t understand that that's entirely the problem. He gives her a skeptical stare. “Look, we’ll all be there. You have a ton of buffer people. Just stop by for a few minutes? For me?” The childish pout she gives in an attempt to guilt-trip is enough to push him over the edge.

“Rob- okay, fine. Stop making that face. For an hour. Not a second longer.” He points a finger at her, not unkindly.

–

As your car crunches over the gravel in the parking lot of Robin’s apartment complex, you can’t help but notice it’s already filled with cars despite you being perfectly on time. All the windows you knew belonged to her unit were lit a glowing yellow behind sheer curtains, allowing you glimpses of mingling silhouettes. You wonder briefly if this was intentional, or if in your never-ending brain fog, you managed to jumble the times.

A quick glance around the lot reveals that your friends still have the same cars they did all those years ago. Jonathan’s Ford LTD, Nancy’s Volkswagen Cabrio, and an achingly familiar maroon BMW 733i. Your heart jumps to your throat when you see it, accompanied by a sharp twist of betrayal in your chest as you don’t recall Robin ever mentioning he would be here. You suppose you can’t blame her.

You stop to take several deep breaths at the front door. You can hear the bass of an old, classic tune bumping inside and you try to time your breathing with it. In three, hold three, out three, and repeat. You raise your fist to knock before thinking it silly, so you just give the knob a tentative twist and walk in.

The room erupts in ‘Hey!’’s and ‘There she is!’’s. It’s a relief to realize they don’t hate your guts, even though they’ve always made it clear that they don’t. A nauseating guilt settles over you as you’re reminded of how long you’ve left them with barely any word from you at all– the pain of this town and everything that happened in it just too much to bear; even if they were your best friends.

Back then, talking to them sounded like long, mucousy vines that strangled and trapped. It sounded like the bitter cold and emptiness of your hometown mirrored just beneath your feet. It sounded like watching chunks of flesh be ripped from the stomach of the boy you loved. It sounded like his screams for your help and you just couldn’t– you needed time.

Now though, as they wrap you in hugs and you smell the homey scent of your best friends apartment, it feels less like then and more like now. Over Nancy’s shoulder, slightly obscured by her usually wild curls, you catch the eye of the one person not dogpiling you, and fight the grimace threatening to surface. You don’t hate Steve, not by any sense of the word– you just can’t look at his stupid, beautiful face without remembering what you did to him.

When everyone disperses, satisfied with their greetings, you can really take in Steve’s appearance in front of you. The years haven’t been unkind to him, but he looks tired. Day old, maybe two, stubble shadows his usually bright face. He fills out the red sweater and light wash Levi’s he wears nicely. You think he’ll always have that boyish Harrington charm, but he looks more like a man than when you left him.

You walk towards him hesitantly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

[taytriestohardd]

Can you do reader and kp are rival’s and they both like each other and when y’all play against each other her and reader flirt the whole Time.

No Snarky Remark?

Kelsey Plum x reader

———————————————————————

Summary: Reader plays for the Indiana Fevers against the Las Vegas Aces and continues her flirtatious rivalry with Kelsey Plum.

Warnings: a few jokingly mean comments? Let me know if I missed anything

———————————————————————

Readers POV:

Kelsey and I are two of the greatest basketball players in the WNBA. With that being said the media has had us against each other since my Fevers debut. We’ve had many games against each other, making sure we keep the media entertained with some playful banter.

Today, we have a game at 7pm against the Aces so all the Fevers have been shooting around for about an hour before we decided to get something to eat before the game. We all agreed on something simple and quick as we made our way to the restaurant.

As I pull out the seat between Caitlin and Aliyah, I hear someone next to me ask “So Y/N, how are you and Kelsey doing?” I look to where it came from to see Caitlin smirking as I sit down. “Um the same as always. I still think she’s annoying and over confident and I plan to show her that at the game tonight.” While yes, I do think Kelsey is absolutely gorgeous and a great ball player her ego plus her attitude do not mix well with such.

“Oh I see you just wanna show off for your girl tonight. I’ll make sure to pass you the ball a few extra times tonight.” I hear Caitlin say as I see a few of my teammates laugh and nod along as if they agree. I look at them confused before saying “Okay woah one, Kelsey is not my girl and I don’t think she ever will be, two you won’t have to pass me the ball because I’m gonna get way more rebounds than you.”

After a few more jokes were cracked and dinner was finished we all made our way back to the team bus to head towards the arena. Along the way me and Caitlin agreed that whoever got more rebounds in tonight’s game would get 20 bucks which I agreed to immediately, knowing I’d win that bet.

Once inside the gym me and Cait shot around with each other for a few minutes until the Aces arrived and she decided to go look at some film before the game. Leaving me to go stretch and fix my hair whilst making a mental note to slide my ankle braces on before entering the court.

Just as I slid my ankle brace and shoe back on a see a figure in front of me causing me to look up quickly. “You’re gonna need those braces for when I break your ankles tonight.” I see Kelsey standing there confidently as she crosses her arms across her chest. “Yea I hear you. What that sticking out of your shoe right there, is that an ankle brace?” I say slyly pointing to her foot.

She shoots her head down quickly as she goes to see if she was indeed wearing an ankle brace. “Made you look! Can’t remember if you put on ankle braces or not Plum? That’s not good might wanna stop by the memory doctor on the way to the E.R after I break your ankles.” I say patting her head as I stand up. Before she can get another word in Aliyah came and told me it was time to get on the court. As I’m walking away I turn around and ask with a smile “What no snarky remark? I must really have an effect on you then.” As I’m turning back around I see Kelsey’s flushed face as well as her teammate coming to tell her to get on the court.

———————————————————————

After jump ball, which we surprisingly got, Caitlin carried the ball up the court before getting double teamed. I ran up closer to give her an easy pass and caught the ball before planting my feet and shooting from right behind the 3 point line. As I let go of the ball I see Kelsey run up to block me a second to late as I blow her kiss right before the ball goes in. I can see a small pink tint on her cheeks before she runs to get the ball.

As she runs the ball up the court, I widen my stance as to guard a little heavier. She dribbles for a second before passing inside the paint giving an easy lay up to her teammate A’ja. I see her smile out of the corner of my eye and decide to step up my game just a little.

With about 3 minutes left in the second quarter I dribble the ball up the court before stopping in front of her. “You’re a little to pretty to be getting beat like this Kelsey. You’re not going easy on me are you?” I say smirking. “Never.” I see her eyes lock on mine but Aliyah has already set me a screen so I run to the left and shoot a three making the score 16-23. She looks like she’s ready to fight me but I just turn around as I smile and get ready to guard her.

As she brings the ball up the court I see her look to the left and the right observing her teammates. “Hey L/N, miss me already? It’s okay I’ll make a shot for you.” She dribbles to the right but passes left before going back to her starting spot and dropping a three and winking at me.

I was subbed out for the first 6 minutes of the fourth quarter but when I went back in Kelsey was already out. I smirked and waved as I brought it up the court seeing Caitlin wide open in the right wing. Passing the ball quickly, the defense went back up on caitlin so she passed to Erica who shot an easy floater.

By the end of the game the score was 56-63 in favor of the Fevers. As I walked to the locker room me and Caitlin stopped to sign a few things and take a few pictures with fans. In the locker room, we all cheered and celebrated a little before the majority of the team decided hang out at a local bar to celebrate. I of course agreed and told them I’d be there around 9.

After everyone else left the locker room I was headed towards the door before I saw Kelsey as she knocked on the wall. “Hey what’s up Kelsey? Come to look at all the posts about me whoopin’ your ass out there tonight with me?”

“Yea yea I made all kinds of shots out there tonight and you know it” she says smiling. “Yea but mine made us win.” I say putting my bag down on the floor right next to me. She walks a little closer towards the back lockers as I turn around to stand in front of her. “But I will admit you made some good shots.” I say looking down at her.

“We’ll beat you guys at the next game.” She says looking up at me. I nod my head slowly “yea?” before my eyes slide down to her lips and back up again. “Yea of course.” She whispers. I lean forward just a little as I see her eyeing my lips. “You know I meant it, when I called you pretty.” I admit. “I’m sure you did. It’s hard to miss tha-“ she starts but I cut her off by leaning forward and kissing her gently. She freezes for a second before kissing me back eagerly. I put my hand on the side of her face pulling her closer as my other hand reaches her hip.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while.” I say as I pull away. “I’ve wanted you to do that for a while.” She says smiling. “Oh well allow me to do the honors.” I quickly lean in again shoving her into the lockers kissing her harder than before. We stayed like that for as long as possible before breaking away for air. “Glad you feel the same.” “You have no idea. Give me a second.” I say pulling out my phone before calling Caitlin. “Hey Cait, yea I’m not gonna make it to the bar tonight, sorry. Also, I want my 20 bucks.”

[xstevex-world]

Steve Harrington’s favourite musician has been the same since he was 17.

He distinctly remembers hearing Chrissy Cunningham play in his car radio during his senior year, subsequently listening to nothing but her breakout EP for a week straight - and that was just the beginning.

He followed all of work for over the past 7 years: bought physical and digital copies of all her albums, watched every music video multiple times, read every interview, saved up enough while working weekend shifts at scoops to get tickets to her sold out shows in Indiana - he had so much merch that Jonathan Byers once joked that Steve could probably make a shrine to his idol.

He had even kept up during her hitatus, almost two full years of radio silence from the star, like she had disappeared off the face of the earth. It wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened, but it didn’t help that it overlapped with him dropping out of business school to pursue a career in cosmetology and that final falling out he had with his father over his choice in education.

The day she came back felt like Christmas.

Her comeback announcement dropped on June 13th - and it wasn’t just a new post on social media or a candid shot online someone managed to snap.

It was a whole EP drop, 4 entire songs (and a music video) that he knew he was going to play on repeat after 716 days of radio silence.

That opened the floodgates for everything to start again: she went back on social media, thanked her fans for their wholehearted response to her new releases. She started doing interviews again: discussing her mental health and the impact of her mothers control in her life; her reunion with her best friend (and apparent ex) from high school; her label dropping her after it was found that her “momager” had embezzled a huge amount of money from said company, releasing her from her contract early and allowing her to find new partners, new producers, new projects.

She talks about how she’s never been happier, and Steve can’t help but beam at it. He can hear it in her music, how it’s going more against the grain of what’s popular, opting instead for etherial synths mixed with heavy guitars. She sings about heartbreak and moving on and being better than then the people who brought her down for long, now that she’s starting fresh.

Steve loves it, thinks some of the changes have something to with Eddie Munson’s name appearing in the credits of all her new material.

Truthfully, he got curious after someone on Twitter posted a screengrab of cameos made by Munson and his own bandmates in all of her new music videos. He thankful someone else made the connection, and although he’s not the biggest fan of Corroded Coffin’s music (apart from the collaboration EP they did with Chrissy: “CCxCC presents Satanic Slumber Party”, that was incredible), he would lying if he didn’t say he was totally enamoured by Eddie goddamn Munson.

Let alone the fact that he’s totally Steve’s type (big hair, bigger eyes, a complete dork with a heart of gold but who also looks like he would bite someone in both a feral dog and a “please take me to your bedroom right now” kind of way), the guy is a genius when it comes to music, spending interviews talking about the process of artistry and the importance of storytelling - even when they’re discussing songs about him, written by Chrissy about their break up, he’s still so passionate and witty, the two of them spending interviews bouncing off each other in a way that would rival his relationship Robin.

He’s fine, really, he knows logically this is just a celebrity crush that will pass if he stops thinking about it for long enough, but he’s certain that this could develop into one of those all encompassing obsessions if he doesn’t curb it now- and that’s exact what he does. He tries to put that energy into school, excelling more than he ever did in an academic setting. He meets up more often with Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle and Barb, inviting them over more often for dinner or drinks, sometimes even just because he wants to make a breakfast feast and need someone else to eat it.

It’s at times like this that he misses Robin, who only has about 6 weeks left of her internship in Paris - he hasn’t seen her in person since he went to visit her a few months ago during spring break. He wishes she was her to openly judge him over this, before rambling on about her own current hyperfixation or moaning about her lack of romantic adventures since she and Vickie broke up.

They still talk on the phone every afternoon (nighttime for her), ranting to each other about their perspective day and sharing any worthwhile gossip.

Tonight’s no different, he’s telling her about the current drama happening in his classes when Robin says:

“I met someone today.”

He’s ecstatic - in his opinion robin deserves the world and the fact she’s met someone on her own in a city where she has been finding it hard interacting with people outside of her placement is a miracle in itself.

She tells him more: how she met this girl that morning at café, acting as a knight in shining armour (Robin’s words, not Steve’s) when the girl got flustered trying to order her coffee in broken French; how she spent the day showing this girl around to her favourite shops and parks and museums; how they spent hours talking about everything and nothing; how Robin hasn’t felt this way about someone since Vickie.

“So then we had dinner at that Italian place, the one I took you to, and, Steve, oh my goddess, she has the cutest little laugh-“

“Did you get her name?”

“Oh, sorry” he can hear her move the phone from one ear to the other. “Yeah it’s Chrissy.”

Steve stops his pacing. That would be one hell of a coincidence, if it was Chrissy Cunningham. She is playing in Paris the following night, the penultimate stop of her current tour. (The very show that he had been tempted to go to, since he could stay with Robin. It absolutely wasn’t because Corroded Coffin was joining her for the European leg of the tour - acting as her band, as well as performing songs from their collaboration as the encore - something that did not happen at any of the American shows). It couldn’t be the same Chrissy that Robin had fallen head over heels for in the space of a few hours, right?

“Did you get any of her socials?” He asks, cautiously.

“Nope,” she answers, popping the p for emphasis. “I didn’t think to ask, because I’m an idiot and all that-“

“Robs,” he interrupts, trying to keep his voice steady. “You’re not an idiot.”

Her hears her laugh on the other end of the line, the same kind of self-deprecating giggle she uses when she’s nervous. He wishes he was there with her so she could see him roll his eyes at her, their main way of communicating their love.

“What did she look like?”

“Oh!” She exclaims as he hears her tumbling over something (knowing Robin, probably herself). “We took a picture together, hold on, I’ll send it over.”

His phone vibrates against his ear, so he brings it in front of him, putting Robin on speaker so he can see the photo.

And.

Holy fuck.

“Robin,” he says slowly, because he actually can’t believe it himself. “Do you know who that is?”

((Part 2))

[trashmouth-richie]

⛧「 ✦ 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔢 ✦ 」⛧

⛧tattoo artist! steve 💋 ⛧rising rockstar! eddie

⛧eddie x fem reader | previous steve x fem reader

⛧reader is nicknamed cherry 🍒

⛧summary: series of blurbs revolving around you, eddie and steve. after vecna: eddie sold his soul to remain alive— him and steve leave hawkins and indiana to go to college and leave what happened in the past. eddie is on the rise of fame while steve is still battling his demons. they both meet reader at school. reader has no idea what happened, and never finds out the truth. eddie progressively turns into a mentally abusive asshole throughout this story so keep that in mind. he’s not our lovable boyfriend.

⛧part one summary: a surprise for your boyfriend, you decide to get a tattoo of his name in a very private spot, from the only one he would trust to do it, his best friend… whom you have a past with. 

⛧warnings: implied smut, depression, anxiety, possession, selling soul to devil, post s4 where both eddie and steve leave hawkins. there will be a few blurbs in this au, (in other parts: smut, degrading, possessive mean! eddie)

It was your idea to surprise your boyfriend with a tattoo. After months of him joking around about branding you as his in a more permanent way, you decided to do it.

A tattoo would last forever, it wouldn’t heal like teeth marks did or fade away like his hickeys would. His dick kicked up at the thought of his name scratched into your delicate skin. The same night he had mentioned it he had you face down in the sheets, burying himself deep within your walls until you were both out of breath. Panting, aching for and from one another. 

The date was set, and you knew better than to go to anyone but Eddie’s best friend to get it done, and Steve agreed to do it for free, since you’re Munson’s girl. 

He agreed to keep it secret because you had wanted to surprise Eddie, but as the appointment creeped up, you became more and more nervous about trying to keep your present for him under wraps. 

The day of the appointment landed on a Friday, the same night Eddie’s band was set to play at The Bloody Dime, an up and coming bar that was known for fights breaking out and drinks being cheap. 

Per his demands, you weren’t allowed within 10 feet of such a place, already having to find out the hard way when he beat the bricks off a guy who wouldn’t stop staring at you. 

Pretty baby like you doesn’t belong there, kitten… understand?

Steve’s shop was downtown from your apartment, a cozy little space nestled into a black brick building—Inked Demo spelled out with neon blue lights. 

The walls were covered with paintings of strange creatures you couldn’t imagine in your worst nightmares, deep reds and violent shades of purple. Various plants hung from the ceiling and were potted in planters or tucked into ornate little terrariums. 

It smelled of rich cedar and hand rolled cigarettes. The bell on the door dinged announcing your arrival and Steve stepped from behind the back wall. His hair was how it always was, slicked back in a dark wave, and he merely nodded to acknowledge your presence. 

“Cherry,” he greeted, using the name Eddie had introduced you to his friends. He wrapped you in a bone crushing hug, kissing your cheek gently before he held you at arms length. 

Out of all of Eddie’s friends, Steve knew you just as well as your own boyfriend did. 

A smile creeps across his lips as he lets your arms go and walks to a small desk. His tall frame slinking like a shadow as he clicks on a slim lamp and begins flipping through a binder full of current work and past tattoos. He finds the heart shaped cherries with Eddie written in pretty cursive underneath. 

They were perfect— Steve was able to capture your ideas through horrible explanations and give his own little twist to them. A modern mockup of American traditionalism with the speckles of glitter you had seen on Pinterest.

His eyes sparkle through the shadow from the light as he proudly holds up the drawing, “so… where we puttin’ this sucker?”

Originally you had thought to put it on your chest, but decided against it when Robin had told you how much her tattoo had hurt there, even more so when she had to get Barb’s name covered by a butterfly. 

Crossing the tiger print carpet to the black tattoo chair, you sit down gently with your ankles crossed, “umm, would it be weird to put it on my thigh?” you asked meekly, “kinda high up so it’s a little more private?”

Raising your skirt, you show Steve the placement. A slivered peek of scarlet lacy panties are visible beneath the hiked up fabric in your fingers, and he nearly bites a hole in his cheek to not look. 

“You could put it there,” he ponders, moving a large veiny hand through the slick of his hair, only to land on his chin to really sell the act of him thinking, tapping his bottom lip, “but ass tats are really popular.”

Eddie would go berserk seeing his name anywhere on your body, but you had to admit— there was something a little bit sexy about his name being tattooed only somewhere he could see. 

“Will it hurt?” 

His eyes light up as he grabs supplies to sanitize his work area clearing his throat, “haven’t had anyone cry yet, so I’m gonna go ahead and say no.” 

Steve’s reputation for his artwork spread far and wide, he was booked solid for months on end, self taught, making tons of money for a college drop out— despite what his dad had said. 

He had done all of Eddie’s tattoos including the enormous stretch of bat wings that spread across his shoulders and down the expanse of his back. Sharp talons protruding onto the beginning of his hips, curved around to his wrists. Steve had freehanded most of it, as if it were from memory. 

Biting your lip contemplating the placement, you think of Eddie and the swelling size of is cock as it split you open once he laid eyes on his name branded into your skin. 

“Okay,” you smile, “let’s do it.” 

Steve smirked and rubbed his jaw, “cool, lay on your stomach for me.”

Flipping onto your front you lay with your hands under your chin, looking up at him through your lashes, “like this?” 

Steve sits on the stool facing away from you, straightening his table and tattoo gun, looking over his shoulder meeting your eye, “yeah… that’s perfect, Cherry.” 

You watch in amusement as he sterilizes his work station and sets up the ink, “Eddie playin’ at the Dime tonight?” 

“Yep,” you sigh, thinking of all the time you’d spent alone while he was gone, “last show of their College Daze Tour, then back to finals, and normal life.” 

A scoff rumbles from Steve’s throat as he wraps his gun, “what’s even considered normal? Everything is pretty shitty around here.” 

Propping up on an elbow you set to argue with him, “going to class is normal, hanging out with our friends, partying, sleeping in the same bed instead of him crashing in the back of someone’s van— that’s all routine for me, for us…” you sigh a little, picking at your thumbs. 

Steve looks over and sees the sadness in your face, grabbing the pink disposable razor, “last I heard from him, he was looking to leave Corroded and start up somethin’ with a few guys from here. Can’t say I blame him, anything to do with home is hard to deal with.” 

Eddie never talked about Hawkins. The only thing you knew about it was that he and Steve got the hell out of there the year he graduated, never looking back, never visiting. 

“That’s the plan for now at least… honestly, I wish he would take a break for a while, but you know him— he’s really driven to be the best he can be.” 

Steve knew all too well. Spending nights awake staring out of his large apartment windows, missing the way things used to be, regretting everything that happened in Hawkins. 

 “Eddie’s…passionate…about the things he cares about, he’s always been that way.” 

That part was always true, Eddie carried his feelings on his sleeve, never afraid to show his emotions, or make sacrifices for people he loved. Steve himself was a living breathing reminder of that. 

“…alright Cherry,” his voice dripped with smoothness as he got closer to you, “everything’s ready…I’ll need to lift your skirt so I can prep the skin, you cool with that?” 

You reply with a yes, and feel the goosebumps prick at your skin as the cool air hits your exposed cheek. The rubber of Steve’s glove drags across your skin as he rubs in the sanitation spray. “‘m gonna shave you now.” 

This being your first tattoo you didn’t know what to expect, heat flooding your cheeks immediately, “oh my God is it hairy?” 

Steve chuckles low, a fan of his breath blowing warm against your skin, “not at all honey, it’s just standard procedure for any tattoo.” 

He was delicate as he ran the blade across you in small motions away from him. One rubber gloved hand held your skin taut, the other on the razor. Your ass bounced back to him after the last drag of the razor leaves your skin, and you swore you heard him suck in a breath. 

Steve had always been handsome, ever since the first time you met during that freshman year mixer in the backyard of some random frat house it was that he was rushing for. 

He was different then, preppy clothes and expensive shoes, surviving during the week just to live for the weekends. A flask with his name claim permanently pressed to his palm. King Steve. 

But somewhere along the lines of college stresses and life back in Hawkins— he changed, dropped out of college completely and dove into his natural talent. Making a name for himself, carving his own path. 

That was why you had fallen for him to begin with. 

“E-Eddie said you have a date this weekend, are you excited?” 

Steve wipes your skin with a paper towel and spreads a thick ointment to lay the stencil, “I wish he’d stop trying to set me up.” 

His thumbs sweep across the stencil laying it firmly in place, “oh c’mon Steven…Lydia’s cute, she’s in one of my elective art classes, she reminds me of you.” 

Steven. Nobody ever called him by his full name.

“Of me?”

Looking over your shoulder you meet his deep mossy eyes, “in a weird way I guess, yeah.”  

He looks back into your eyes, watching as you slowly blinked and drifted your gaze downward to where his large hands were still splayed across your ass. 

The dusting of hair on his arms tickled your skin when he pulled back gently, pinching a corner of the transfer paper and peeling it from you. He purses his lips and blows on the stencil lightly. 

Steve often thought back to the way things were three years ago. The way your eyes gleamed under the string patio lights, the scent of your vanilla perfume and how it seemed to bake deeper with the sun's rays on your skin. 

He remembered how your lips tasted like melted ice cream against his, and how deeply he craved to be floating in the candy confectionery of sugar and sprinkles with you in the center of it, center of his world. 

Steve shakes his head, trying to erase that time in his life but always coming up short. “This won’t hurt too bad, I’ll stop whenever you need, okay? It’s best if you lay down.”

Your chest tightens with nerves as you nod your head, pressing your cheek into the vinyl of the black headrest. 

The gun starts and Steve tells you he’s going to do the outline of the cherries first. The needle vibrates into your skin and you wince at the first few lines made but eventually getting used to the way your skin buzzed and the pain that came from it. 

You whimpered out in a few spots and Steve’s velvet voice shushed you gently, telling you the worst was almost over. 

“Outlining is finished,” Steve murmurs, rubbing ink from your skin, “you’re doing really good, honey.” 

Your mind slips to him saying those words in a different setting, a miniature golf course with clubs that were too short and a go-kart track. He had said it when you finally sunk your ball after par ten thousand on hole eleven. 

Sarcasm spread across his face and you wiggled your tongue at him and threw a middle finger his way. Only for him to chase you around the tiny windmills and grassy hills, catching up and tickling you under your arms until you were near to tears. 

You thought he would have kissed you that night, but to your surprise and dismay— he had waited for the third official date.

“Thank you,” you smile weakly. 

He returns the smile and looks away, clearing his throat, “the shading will be a cake walk, we’ll be done here before you know it…might even catch the end of Eddie’s show.” 

“Really?” you say with a spring of hope in your voice. He couldn’t dismiss how his friend's name made his mouth taste like poison, but how it made you weak in the knees. “That would be great, Steve.”

“Sure thing princess,” he nearly whispered, “lay back now, I’ll be done soon.” 

Steve tried to blank it all out as his tattoo gun spelled  Eddie in a cursive calligraphy he knew was yours. Letter by letter he swallowed down the feelings he had been harboring from you, from him— from everyone. 

He wished he had never taken you to that concert. He loathed himself for the way Eddie slithered between the two of you, how Eddie could have had any girl at that after party but he chose you simply because you were with him. 

Steve tried to deny him of it, tried to steer him toward another girl, a girl who wasn’t you. One he hadn’t been in love with, one who didn’t appear in his dreams despite the nightmares clouding in. But one low growl and a flash of those sharp fangs and Steve knew he didn’t stand a chance. 

Letter by letter he branded his friend’s name into your skin, giving the girl he loved a silent goodbye with every curve and final dot of the ‘i’.

“All done,” he said with a shaky throat, cleaning you up, “wanna see it?”

You nod and reach for his outstretched hand,  swinging your legs and standing to follow him to the mirror. It was perfect. Equal parts colorful yet traditional with a spark of modern flare added to it. 

“Steve,” you gasp, mouth hung open in adoration, “it’s beautiful!”

He rubs his neck and watches your reflection in the mirror, the way your mouth ticks up on the ends into the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.

His heart was aching knowing it wasn’t for him

[skyfallslayer]

Should We Stay or Should We Go? || Chapter Two

-A ST Rewrite Feat. Steve Harrington x Henderson!OFC-

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

🎲Summary: On the night of November 6th, 1983, Stephanie Henderson decided to walk her little brother’s friend, Will, back home. However… they never arrive. Now, Dustin, Mike and Lucas, and soon the exception of the girl’s ex-best friend, Steve, must band together to find out what happened. Meanwhile, Steph and Will must fight for their survival in this nightmarish version of Hawkins, Indiana.

🎲Chapter Summary: Lucas, Mike and Dustin try to talk to the girl they found in the woods; And Hopper questions an anxious Joyce about an unsettling phone call; Steph and Will must continue to survive; And Steve’s eyes get opened in a way he never saw coming.

🎲Pairings: Will x Platonic!OFC; Dustin x Sister!OC; Slow burn! Steve x Henderson!OFC (Ex-bestfriends to Lovers); Slow burn! Byler

🎲Rating: Teen-Mature

🎲Word Count: 11,024 (Oh, my lord)

🎲Date: 5/16/24

🎲Warnings: Angst; Swearing; Implied Broken Friendship; Talks of Kidnapping; Mental Strain/Breaking Down; Implying Sex; Lying; Implied Suicide; Death/Killing; Talks of Corpses; Blood; Gun Use; Steve's 'Asshole Era. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

(And let me know if I missed anything)

🎲A/N: Jesus. This was a tough one to write and edit (Hopefully I didn't make too many mistakes). But, geez. Writing different POVs, everyone's thought was a tough one. But hopefully y'all can understand 😅. Also, I am NOT a D&D player, so some of lore just comes straight from the wiki. Hopefully that's reliable enough. Anyway, sorry for the delay. Enjoy!

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE || 

“What the fuck are you?!” Will heard her scream as the creature tried to outmatch her. The light above them grew brighter and brighter, and he squeezed his eyes shut while gripping her jacket tighter. He prayed this was just another nightmare. Maybe… Maybe he’s getting his wish when he hears the silence. Does he dare open his eyes and see the truth?

He’s scared, trembling, and it heightens when he hears the girl heaving for air. So much so he clenches his grip on the fabric tighter, the strange smelling air going through his nostrils causing him to gasp himself. When his eyes snapped open is when his coughing fit started.

He hears his name being called, and hands coming around his shoulders. He almost jerks away, afraid, until his orbs settle on the silhouette before him. 

“S-Steph?” He croaked, a sense of relief flooding his veins. “What just happened?” He could see the confusion on her face, looking around for clues. He followed her eyes, nose crinkling at the sight. “We’re still in the shed. But it’s… gross.”

She swallows. “Stay behind me.” She tells him, and guides herself through the door. They both shivered at the sudden drop in temperature. “Jesus, It’s freezing.”

Will and her looked around, the outside world seemed to be encased in a blue hue, the places around seemed to be tangled with vines and covered in something sticky. There was also a white powder that looked like snow, raining down from the dark skies above. A sky that didn’t even have moonlight like it did a few minutes ago.

“Did you hit your head when we crashed?” She asked after getting his attention away from the sky. 

He shakes his head, almost sadly. If that had both just hit their heads, would the situation have been better? He frowns, worriedly thinking away as the older girl tries to stay calm.

“Come on.” She says, gesturing to him to follow. “Let’s go inside. I want to see something.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT || 

The rain was coming down more intensely than before, followed by the grumbling of thunder and lightning. Somehow, miraculously, the boys, mostly Wheeler, managed to convince the strange girl they found in the woods to return home with them, and hid her in the basement.

“Is there a number we can call for your parents?” Mike asked, worriedly as the girl looked between the three boys, all scared and confused.

“Where’s your hair? Do you have cancer?” Dustin spitted out, genuinely curious.

“Did you run away?” Lucas asked, skeptical. 

“Are you in some kind of trouble?” Mike says, just as his friend questions a red sustain on her shirt. He slaps his hand away quickly. “Stop it! You’re freaking her out!”

“She’s freaking me out!”

“I bet she’s deaf.” Dustin suggested, before taking a quick half step and smacking his hands together. The sound makes the girl flinch, and he frowns apologetically. “Not deaf.”

“That’s enough, all right? She’s just scared and cold.” Mike said, silencing the two before running over to the laundry basket and grabbing some clothes. “Here, these are clean. Okay?”

The girl takes them, taking a second to be grateful before she starts stripping– The boys freak out, Mike running up to stop her while the other two look away. 

“See over there?” He points. “Th-That’s the bathroom. Privacy. Get it?” She nods and he shows her inside. Just when he was about to shut it behind him, she grabs it forcibly. “You don’t want it closed?”

“No.” She finally says, surprising him.

“Oh, so you can speak. Okay, well… Um, how about we just keep the door…” He slowly moves it until there’s about three inches of space. “Just like this. Is that better?”

“Yes.”

Mike smiles and leaves her be, rejoining the group who were having a conversation of their own.

“This is mental.” Dustin said, freaking out.

“At least she can talk.” Mike points out, with Lucas shaking his head, replying,

“She said ‘no’ and ‘yes’. Your three-year-old sister says more.”

“She tried to get naked.” Dustin adds.

“There’s something seriously wrong with her.” Lucas said, touching his temple. “Like, wrong in the head.”

“She just went like…” The Henderson boy makes a motion of taking off shirt (and even knocked his own hat off his head).

“I bet she escaped from Pennhurst.”

“From where?” Mike said, eyebrow raised.

“The nuthouse in Kerley County.” 

“You got a lot of family there?” Dustin teased, getting a dirty look. 

“Bite me. Seriously though, think about it. That would explain her shaved hair and why she’s so crazy.”

“Why she went like…” He does the shirt motion again. In his mind this was helping him and Lucas’ case.

“‘She’s an escapee’ is the point. She’s probably a psycho.”

“Like Michael Myers.”

“Exactly! We should’ve never brought her here.”

“So you just wanted to leave her out in that storm?” Mike asks, irritated. 

“Yes! We went out to find Will–” 

“And Phanie.” Dustin pressures. 

“And Steph – not another problem!” Lucas agrees.

“I think we should tell your mom.”

“I second that.”

Mike holds his hand up. “Who’s crazy now?” 

“How is that crazy?” Lucas scoffed.

“‘Cause, we weren’t supposed to be out tonight, remember?”

“So?”

“So if I tell my mom and she tells your mom and your mom–”

Dustin’s eyes widened. “Oh, man.”

“Our houses become Alcatraz.” Lucas frowns.

“Exactly. We’ll never find Will, or Steph.” Mike says, seeing Dustin make the shirt motion once more, silently asking the question about the girl. “All right, here’s the plan. She sleeps here tonight.”

Henderson perked up again. “You’re letting a girl–” 

“Just listen! In the morning, she sneaks around my house, goes to the front door and rings my doorbell. My mom will answer and know exactly what to do. She’ll send her back to Pennhurst or wherever she comes from. We’ll be totally in the clear. And tomorrow night, we go back out. And this time, we find Will and Stephanie.”

Lucas and Dustin share a look, until one of them finally shrugged. “I guess that works.”  

“Great. We’ll start again tomorrow. Goodnight, guys.” Mike bid them as he went off to start making the mysterious girl a place to rest.

“This is crazy, man.” Lucas said, once they had snuck back out. “What the hell is Mike even thinking?”

“I don’t know. Do you think his plan will really work?” Dustin asked, as they headed over to where their bikes were hidden.

“I’m giving it less than a fifty percent chance of success.” He sighs. “I better get home.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Hey, don’t look so sad.” He pats his curly haired friend on the back. “We’ll find them.”

“I just want my sister back. You have no idea.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

In the following morning, in the Byers house, the eldest seemingly was keeping it together, making the morning meal like he always does and hoping his worrying mother would have just a bite. 

“All right, Mom. Breakfast is ready.” Jonathan said, while placing the plate down in front of her, her thoughts being interrupted. 

“What?” His mother said, before moving some papers. “No, be careful of the poster.”

“Yeah, okay. All right–”

“I can’t eat.”

“I just need you to eat, Mom.”

“Listen, listen. The Xerox place opens in, like…” She looks down at her watch. “30 minutes–”

“Mom–”

“And I don’t want you to go alone–”

“No, I know. I told you, I got it.”

“So I’m gonna have Karen take you, ‘cause I should be here.” She gestures around, all jittery. “Claudia will meet you there, b-but if she’s not, she’ll reimburse us for the copies of Stephanie, I–”

He shakes his head with understanding. “Okay.”

“We need to make, what, 200, 300 copies?” He nods again. “How much is a copy?”

“Mom?”

“Ten cents?”

“Mom?” 

“If we– ten cents”

“Mom, Mom!” Jonathan stops her from counting the cash she had laid out, and squeezes her shoulder with her other hang to calm her. “Y-You can’t get like this, okay?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Joyce replies, taking a shaky inhale of nicotine. 

“No, it’s okay.” He reassures her softly, just before someone comes knocking on their door. The mother rushed over with her son on her tail, busting the door wide open for the exhausted police officer. 

“We’ve been waiting six hours.” 

“I know, I came as soon as I could.” Hopper replies, nearly dead on his feet.

“Six hours.”

“A little bit of trust here, all right?” He slides his hat off. “We’ve been searching all night, went all the way to Cartersville.”

“And?”

“Nothing.”

Joyce made a choking sound and looked away. “God…”

Hopper frowns, sadly. “Flo says you got a phone call?”

“Oh, yeah.” Joyce nods and shows him their phone. 

He picks it, examining the speaker part of it which was charded black. “Storm barbecued this pretty good.”

She took a step back in surprise. “The storm?”

Hopper looked at her like she had two heads. “What else?”

“You’re saying that that’s not weird?”

“No, it’s weird.”

“Can we, like, trace who made the call? Contact the–”

“No, it doesn’t work like that.” He shakes his head, and then looks at her with all seriousness. “Now, uh, you’re sure it was Will? Because Flo said you just heard some breathing.”

“No. It was him, it was Will... and h-he was scared. And then something–”

“It was probably just a prank call. It was somebody trying to scare you.”

“Who would do that?” Joyce questioned, face full of confusion and sickness.

“Well, this thing’s been on TV. It brings out all the crazies, you know. False leads, prank calls, uh–”

“No, Hopper, it was not a prank. It was him.”

“Joyce.” He begins, as she denies him again

“Come on, how about a little trust here?” She laughs dryly. “What, you think I’m– I’m making this up?”

“I’m not saying that you’re making it up.” Hopper looks at her with concern again. “All I’m saying is it’s an emotional time for you.”

“And you think I don’t know my own son’s breathing?”

“Joyce–”

“Hopper, my son’s missing. A-And not only that, someone else’s daughter is missing.” She nervously takes a puff of her cigarette. “And you know what the mess up part about that is? Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!” 

She ends with an emotional sigh, tightening the heavy tension it the room. Jonathan worriedly looking at his mother before, locking eyes with the police chief who was trying to find the right words to say.

“You hear from, uh, Lonnie yet?” Hopper asked after the small silence.

“No.”

“It’s been long enough.” He puts his hat back on. “I’m having him checked out.”

“Oh, come on!” She sighs loudly, watching him leave. “You’re wasting your time.” Then the door shuts, and rubs her temple. “Jesus. He never listens!”

Jonathan ponders for a moment, before asking, “Mom, how likely is it that Will would actually go to Lonnie’s?”

“I…” Joyce runs a hand through her messy locks. “It’s possible, but he lives a long, long way. Especially on foot. But… I don’t– maybe he would! I…” She sighs again, overwhelmed. “However, I don’t think he would have gone with Stephanie. He’s… W-Will knows your father’s not the best man, and Will, you know, has that heart of gold.”

That got a chuckle out of both of them. “Yeah.”

“I don’t think Will would have risked Stephanie like that.” She shakes her head. “No. She’s an older kid, and older sister. As much as this sounds messed up, she would have done anything to make sure Will was safe. I know it. So… my question is…” She locks eyes with her son. “What would a girl her age think is a safe place for a young boy?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| TWO NIGHTS AGO ||

Stephanie flipped the lightswitch on in the kitchen out of curiosity, but finds herself still submerged in darkness. “Just what I thought. There’s no light.” She says with a frown.

“The flash of light we saw–” Will looks up at her. “Do you think it was a power outage?” 

“I don’t think there’s light here, I mean-” She starts walking around, rubbing her shaking hands together. “Look at this place. I don’t think we’re in Hawkins anymore.” She shivers just a smidge. “At least it’s a little warmer inside here.” Then she hears a distressful sound. “Will?”

The boy was pale, pupils blown wide and had a small tremble. “W-What do you m-mean we’re not in Hawkins anymore?” He asked, lip quivering with a slight pant. “B-But th-this looks like my house. D-Did w-we get taken somewhere else? Can we even g-go home? I–”

“Shit… Will–” She rushes over, hands coming up to his shoulders while she gets on one knee. “Will? Hey, bud, listen– hey.” She makes sure his gaze meets hers. “Don’t freak out. I know it’s scary, but we’re going to figure this out. Once we do, I’m going to get us home, I promise.”

The boy sniffles into his shoulder, fighting back tears. “You promise?”

“I promise.” She says it without realizing the fate of those words.

He swallows and extends out a certain finger. “Pinky promise?”

Her breath was nearly taken away by that certain question, taking her far back into a distant memory. But… like hell she’s going to let that memory change her judgment. She interlocks hers with his and repeats, “Pinky promise.”

That got him to crack a smile. “So, what next?” He asks, making her rack her brain for a plan.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY ||

He woke up again to his cat’s crying. The young Henderson frowns, heart clenching at how Mews was wondering where his sister was at. For the urban legend of how cats had no emotions, he’s certainly not seeing it. He rubbed his eyes and wandered aimlessly around, the thought of calling sick into school was still fresh in his mind. Should he? I mean it made sense, and it wasn’t like the school won’t understand, so….

Was that a yes?

He walked through the hallway, curls in his eyes as slows in front of his sister’s bedroom. His cat locked eyes with him, sadness and confusion filled the slitted pupils. Mews meows again.

“She’s not back yet.” Dustin says, getting a chirp. “We’re trying. She’ll be back soon.” He starts walking away, hearing him make a sad sound once more. 

“Dusty-bun, I’m going to make some posters.” Claudia said, who were gathering her belongings by the door. “I left you breakfast on the stove.”

His nervous fingers gripped his t-shirt as he tried not to sound so down. “Hey, Mom?” Her eyes meet his gaze. “Is it okay if I… stay home today?”

Claudia’s face softens bittersweetly. “Of course you can, sweety. If you leave the house for whatever reason, just leave me a note where you’re going, that’s all I ask.” She gives him a kiss on his hairline, and is one foot out the door before adding, “Oh! And be back before dark. Okay? Your Mama doesn’t need to worry about another kid.”

“Can do.”

He watches her smile and closes the door, locking it. He frowns at that action, I mean they’ve never locked their door before, and now it was becoming second nature. He was even surprised she told him he could leave the house. Or… did she not expect him to leave this place in the state he’s in? Sounds like something she would do.

He sighs and heads for the kitchen to make himself a plate. He didn’t have much of an appetite, really, but he didn’t want to hurt his mother’s feelings or make her beg for him to eat – he didn’t want to call ‘pot kettle black’ since he was the one that had to convince his mourning mother to eat last night. But it was hard, his fork just picking at the food, cutting it into smaller pieces to stare at before dropping his utensil onto the plate.

Steph… His fingers dug into his pocket and pulled the gold chain out, letting it sprawl out in his palm. He stares at it intensely, thinking. Come on, Sis, give me a sign. What happened to you and Will? What caused you to go off road and run? Run with Will’s shotgun out of all things?

What had got her so scared that they needed a weapon to protect themselves? Both her and Will were the last two people that would resort in violence, so the fact that they decided to arm themselves with a weapon tells him that something sinister was up.

But what? Dustin lays the necklace down next to him, pretending that she was here to eat with him like she always does, before deciding it was time to munch on what was left on his plate.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Hopper struggles to keep his mind clear after that conversation with Joyce. His thought always going back to this particular moment:

.

““Stephanie didn’t have to! She didn’t have to be the sweetheart she is and take my son home. She could have just drove past him, but she didn’t! She didn’t, Hop. And now I have to live with the thought that I made someone else’s kid go missing because I. Was. Working!””

.

Of course the woman felt guilty about everything. I mean, your kid goes missing, who else are you going to blame other than yourself? But she also was chipping away at the idea it was her fault that that poor girl was missing too. Blames herself for working later than usual, and wasn’t the one to come across her own son on the road and pick him up. That’s a lot of guilt for someone who’s holding the family together on her own.

He listens to the volunteers shout the children’s names, hoping that they would shout back. Hopper wishes that too. He prays that one of them would yell back for help and get this nightmare over with.

“Hey!” He shouts at the two officers. “Anything?”

Callahan shakes his head. “You?”

“No, nothing but a dead phone.”

“Joyce?”

Hopper nods. “About one step from falling off the edge.”

“She’s been a few steps for a while now, hasn’t she?” Powell asked, as he’s met with a stern glare. 

“Kid’s missing, man. Show a little class.” Hopper snaps, making them avert their eyes.

“All right…”

He exhales and takes off with the rest of the group, shouting, “Come on, let’s go! We got a lot of ground to cover.” He keeps his fingers crossed that this would be it. That this would be the search that brings them home.

For their mothers' sake.

For his sake.

For every goddamn person out of here’s sake. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| THE NIGHT BEFORE ||

Stephanie shifted through the last cabinet and frowns. “Well, we can’t cook anything because there’s no electricity. But we can eat the dry goods. Unless we can figure out how to start a fire” She sighs, and wrinkles her nose. I mean, they can go a few days without eating if they didn’t want to touch the box of crackers covered in goo. But water? How were they supposed to have water if the faucet comes out with something they probably shouldn’t drink.

She rubs her temples, thinking. “I guess we’re going to have to look for some bottled stuff to drink.” She makes contact with the boy who just entered the room. “How you feeling?”

“Fine. I got a bit of a chill, but we can still grab clothes out of the closets if we need it.” Will replies, hugging his walkie talkie close.

“And the call?”

“Nothing. I mean I could hardly ever get reception over here anyway, so maybe we can try finding a different spot.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad idea." She says with a sigh. “Where’s the shotgun?”

“Oh, uh– Mom’s room.” He points behind him.

“Alright, maybe I’ll take a peek outside. If it seems clear, maybe we can try to find some reception.” 

Stephanie leaves the room with Will looking back at his walkie. He had to remain strong, hopeful. He has to get through to someone. His friends, his family, one of them has to be able–

Wait.

Was he hearing things? Was his mind playing tricks?

His eyes trail to his living room where he swears he heard someone talking. It was faint, but you can’t miss it. 

It sounds like… His chest tightens at a thought, his brown orbs blown wide as he looks at the yellow phone on the wall. It was probably hopeless, stupid even, I mean… the damn thing didn’t work when Stephanie tried to call for help when they were being chased. But that was the real world, this was… fake? Maybe it different, maybe it’s—

Oh, shit.

Maybe he’s just grasping at straws at this point and hopes it turns out okay.

His fingers latch around the phone, pulling it off the receiver and dials his home’s number, praying with all his might that this ridiculous idea would actually work. 

Come on, come on, come on, come on, com–

Oh, he felt like crying when someone picked up.

[ ‘Hello?’ ]

His mother’s voice broke through and poke him in the heart. He couldn’t breath as relief washed over him like a storm.

[ ‘Hello? Lonnie? Hopper? Who is this?’ ]

Say something, say something, say something– His lip quivers as he swallows. “M-Mom?” He can’t wait till Steph hears about this. “M-Mom, I-It’s me.” 

She can hear me right? She has to. 

[ ‘Will? Will? It’s Will!’ ]

[ ‘Mom, it’s Will?’ ]

He could cry upon hearing the second voice. “J-Jonathan? Mom? M-Me and Stephanie are tr-trap in some weird place! I-I don’t know what t-to–”

Then he was cut off by the dreadful sound of the monster. Will watched as its claws wrapped around the corner, almost like it was pulling itself into the kitchen. He doesn’t even know where it came from. He didn’t even hear it freaking come in! 

He froze on sight, his mother shouting something he couldn’t make out as the beast with no eyes looked directly at him. He wanted to scream but it was stuck in his throat. Is this how he was going to die? Die by listening to his mother’s pleas to answer her?

It shrieked and seemed to get bigger, ready to strike him down before it took a bullet to the face. The shot made it fall against the wall, and Will drops the fried phone and backs himself away. Stephanie looked half scared to death too as she cocks the shotgun again and fires one more when it stands up, sending it flying to the living room. As quickly as her buckling knees could hold her, she rushes over to Will, pulling him behind her as she aims the barrel into the direction the beast was. Shaking intensely, she carefully peeks around the corner to find that it had completely vanished like it did earlier. She gasps in shock before sliding to the ground herself, mentally drained.

“Steph!!” Will calls out with worry. He could see her eyes glassing over, her skin becoming paler as she shouts, 

“Where the fuck are we?!” 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT DAY || 

Steve strolls into school, head in the clouds, and an aching feeling in the pit of his stomach. His sleep went to complete shit after the conversation with his girlfriend last night. He still doesn’t understand why it was affecting him so much. It’s not like him and Steph hung out anymore. So why is he losing sleep over this?

You’re not even friends anymore, Harrington. He mentally slaps himself. Get your shit together– 

“Boo!” Tommy yelled, jumping out from behind the corner, startling him.

“Jesus, Hagan.” Steve said, holding his chest while the other teen laughed.

“That was so easy.”

“So–” Carol’s arm snakes around him with a grin. “Did you tell your little girlfriend about your party?” 

“I-I… not yet.” 

“What? You didn’t tell her at her house yesterday?” 

“N-No. Never got the chance to.”

“What?!” Tommy scoffs. “Stealthy Stevie didn’t get to use his skills last night?” Him and his girlfriend laughed, but then grew quiet seeing how distant the King was being. “What the fuck’s going on with you, man?”

“Um…” Steve’s gaze gets caught onto someone else, spotting a certain person posting a certain flier up on the bulletin board. He swallows, and masks a fake smile. “You guys go ahead to class. I got to grab something out of my locker.”

“Oh, we can go with you.” Carol begins, trying to follow him but he shakes them off.

“No, no. Go ahead. I’ll meet you there.” Steve ignores the strange looks they gave him before walking away. Deciding this was the ‘only’ way, he rushes over to the oldest Byers kid, ‘accidently’ pushing his shoulder into his, knocking the papers out of his hand while he was leaving. He scoffs, while saying, “Watch where you’re going!” 

Jonathan says nothing as he bends over to collect the rest, oblivious to the other teenager sliding a paper away with his foot. Once he leaves, Steve retrieves the flier from under his shoe, reading it over.  

  HAVE YOU SEEN ME? Stephanie Henderson Age 16, 5’4” Brown Hair, Blue Eyes, 110lbs. Last seen wearing a brown work uniform, black jacket, white sneakers, and a baseball cap. Reach out to Claudia Henderson or Joyce Byers at #### or #### 

Steve stares with a distant look in his eyes, thumb brushing over her picture. Such a gentle smile for a gentle person. God… why did they have to use that picture? It was right before he–

He frowns, throwing his head back. 

Fuck… 

What the hell was he supposed to do now?

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the Wheeler’s house, Mike decided to stay home, his parents totally unaware of him doing so. He showed the new girl around his place, acting a bit giggly when they finally got to his room. He was so excited to show off his action figures, and comic books, and anything else that he holds close to his heart. He didn’t even realize she was starting to wander off to where a collection of trophies were. Her brown eyes grew with fascination by them.

“Oh, these are all my science fair trophies. We got first every year.” Mike’s smile drops just a tad. “Except for last year when we got third. Mr. Clarke said it was totally political.”

Yeah, it totally was that. He expected some kind of reaction from her, except for the one where her eyes widened and she slowly pointed to the picture of Will in their fair picture together.

Mike perked up, hopeful. “You know Will? Did you see him? Last Night? On the road? Did–” He pauses. “Hang on a sec.” Maybe he’s getting his hopes up as he grabs another photo after shifting around in his drawer. It was a picture of his friends’ families at the lake, posing nicely for the camera. 

He points to the girl in the right hand corner. “This is Stephanie. She’s his sister.” He points to Dustin who’s hanging out behind her. “She supposedly gave Will a ride the night he disappeared, and we can’t find her either. Did you see her too?”

The girl studies Steph’s face, slowly the same reaction she had from seeing Will returned as she pointed again. “I–”

Her answer was cut short when they heard something from outside. Mike gets up quickly, peeking through his curtains to see his mother’s car pulling into the driveway. He pales.

“Shit.” He rushes to grab her by the hand and strings her along. “We gotta hide!”

��°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Of course the eldest stayed awake for most of the night, the two of them tucked away in the far corner of Will’s room, her eyes trained on the door just in case that wretched monster appeared again. She kept a good grip on the shotgun, one foot planted on the ground for a quick pop up if needed. Adrenaline was pumping in her blood, she was fighting off her exhaustion and hunger, while a tune played on her dry lips.

“♪ Here we stand

Worlds apart, hearts broken in two. Two. Two

Sleepless nights.

Losing ground, I’m reaching for you. You. You

Feeling that it’s gone

Can’t change your mind

If we can’t go on

To survive–♪”

Will stirred beside her, his head resting on her shoulder that was starting to fall asleep, but she refused to jostle the kid. God knows he needs his rest. Well… so does she, but she’ll get around to that. 

Her mind wanders back to the conversation they had last night, the one where Will admitted he spoke to his mother on the phone. Shock wasn’t the right word, especially when she examined the phone that had been burnt black, and when asking again if he heard that right, the youngest Byers swears he did. 

Is there actually a way to communicate to… well… ‘our world’, I guess. She ponders on that thought, wondering if it’s possible to do so without frying your phone to death. Not to mention Will swears he heard people talking before calling his mother. Can we only communicate to the people we ‘hear’? 

She scolds herself. This hurts my head too much.

“♪ –The tide

Love divides

Someday, love will find you

Break those chains that bind you

One night will remind you

How we touched and went our separate ways

If he ever hurts you

True love won’t desert you

You know I still love you

Though we touched and went our separate ways– ♪”

Will stirred again, this time waking up slowly with a groan. “Was it a dream…?” He whispers, his eyes opening at a snail pace.

“I wish.” Steph says, sadly.

“Did you sleep okay?” He asks, rubbing his face.

Her heart skips a beat and a lie slips out. “Uh, yeah. It was fine.”

“That’s good.”

“We shouldn’t stay here.” She says, surprising him. “We should probably move around, maybe lose that monster for a while. And you’re probably hungry too, I know my mom keeps cans and bottled water down in our basement for emergencies. That should tie us over for a little while.”

“Is it even safe to go out?” He wonders, yet intrigued. He’ll admit… he is a bit famished. 

“I don’t know. But we got to try. Right?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Whoa, whoa. Careful, careful.” Hopper says as he snags his partner by the collar. “I need you alive for the next few days, at least.”

Callahan smirked and scoffed as he gestures to the Quarry below. “Oh, hell, I could survive that.” He said, making his superior laugh. “What? George Burness made the jump. And he was drunk as a skunk. He did it on a $10 bet.”

“George is a liar. You make that jump from this height, that water turns into cement. Hits you like a ton of bricks.” Hopper smacks his hands together. “Break every damn bone in your body.”

The youngster pondered on that for a second before shaking his head. “Nah.”

[ ‘Chief, you copy?’ ] 

Hopper grabs his walkie from his belt. “Yeah, Flo, talk to me.”

[ ‘Hey, Chief, we got a call from over at Benny’s. I think you need to get there right away.’ ]

And those were words he didn’t want to hear. So he and his team rushed over there as quickly as they could, and the first they were met with was the smell of a rotting corpse. 

“Ugh, Jesus!” Callahan said, covering his nose.

“Suicide?” Powell asked, after a moment of silence. 

Hopper hummed and stared in disbelief at the man laying on the table, pistol in hand and a bullet wound straight through the temple. There’s no way this can be real.

“Missing kid, suicide.” Callahan frowns. “You must feel like a big city cop again, huh, Chief? 

“Well, I mostly dealt with strangers back then.” Hopper replies, this particular moment he almost broke down. “Benny was my friend.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

Stephanie peeked outside before gesturing to Will to follow. The two of them had backpacks on that they found lying around, going to use them to fill up with anything they could find – But the task that lay ahead was going to be hard. The task was…

Walking back through Mirkwood to the Henderson home. 

No lights, just a few bullets to spare, and their pure will to survive (Or maybe it’s the fear that’s fueling that will).

“I don’t like this.” Will mutters, only a few minutes after they left the Byers’ driveway and down a few feet on the road. “What if that thing spawns in front of us again?”

“Then we shoot it and book it again. That’s all we can do now.” Steph replies, carefully looking around. But what if he’s right? What if thing actually just spawns out of thin air? Then there’s not telling where and when not to go.

He stays silent, shaking a tad as they make it further down the road. It took a hot minute for the older girl to notice this and stop briefly, the twelve year old’s eyes confused just as she held out her hand. Without missing a beat, his clammy hand takes it, squeezing it tight. She smiles just a tad, reminding her of Dustin before they started walking again.

She felt him hang on to dear life as they strolled into the darkest part of Mirkwood, the eeriness that was silence was making their hearts race. She came to a conclusion after facing the monster last night that she had to be the strong one here. She has to act like the older sister again, and remain calm, and to keep him safe.

I made a promise. I don’t know how to fulfill it just yet, but I’m going to get him out of here. Steph casts a glance down at him, the poor boy’s face looked so cold. Does hers look like that too?

She grins after a quick thought. “Hey–” His eyes locked with hers. “What does a ‘Ranger’ do in D&D? That one sounds intriguing to me.”

His face lights up. “You actually want to play D&D?”

“Hey, you suggested it, I might as well. So, the Ranger? What’s that like? The lore?”

“Well, Rangers are warriors that explore different civilizations, and they hunt down the deadliest of monsters. They’re trained in many different combat techniques, survival skills, and even some magic.”

“Magic? I like the sound of that.”

“They mostly reside in the forest, or anything ‘nature-y’.” 

She chuckles. “I don’t like the sound of that. What else? Aren’t there like… classes… or different types?

“Oh, yeah.” He nods. “I guess it depends on what you prefer. Do you want me to tell you?”

“I’m all ears.” Steph said, making a motion. I’m just glad he’s stopped shaking.

“Well, there’s a lot. The most common ones are ‘Beast Masters’, which are accompanied with an animal companion. Then there’s ‘Hunters’, which are mainly just professional assassins that take down monsters of all sorts. Now, even though all Rangers have the capability of taking monsters down, Hunters are strictly made just to do that.”

She hums. “Interesting.”

“Then there’s ‘Gloom Stalkers’, who live mostly in dark realms, and take down the shadowy beasts roaming the territory. They’re pretty good at ambushing their opponents.” He smiles. “Personally, I find that the coolest.”

“Well, I can see why. What else? Do Rangers get weapons?” 

“Of course! The most common is a two-blade or archery.”

“Archery sounds cool.”

“See, I agree. But I know Lucas always says it’s ‘stupid’, so–”

Steph shakes her head with a sigh. “Oh, well. I guess I’ll have to prove him wrong when I play.”

“So you are going to play with us!” Will said, joyfully, like you just told him Christmas was coming early.

“If that’s how I prove Lucas wrong, then so be it. So how does one newbie play D&D?” She asked, hopefully this will keep him occupied. At least I can keep him distracted until we get there.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT ||

“Are you out of your mind?” Lucas said, as soon as Mike was done with his explanation for them being here. 

“Just listen to me.” Mike pleads.

“You are out of your mind–”

“She knows about Will and Steph.”

Dustin perks up after being the silent one here. “What do you mean she knows about them?”

Mike grabs the pictures from earlier and holds them up. “She pointed at them, at their picture. She knew they were missing. I could tell.”

“You could tell?” Lucas asked, looking between the pictures and the girl who was on the bed.

“Just think about it. Do you really think it was a coincidence that we found her on Mirkwood, the same place where they disappeared?”

Dustin nodded, agreeing. “That is weird.”

“And she said bad people are after her.” Mike said, with a frown. “I think maybe these bad people are the same ones that took Will and Steph. I think she knows what happened to them.”

“Then why doesn’t she tell us?” Lucas asked, glaring at her direction before stomping over. “Do you know where they are?” He grabs her by the shoulder. “Do you know where Will and Stephanie are?!” 

“Stop it, you’re scaring her!” Mike pulls him away, as his friend brushes him off.

“She should be scared! If you know where they are, tell us! This is nuts. We have to take her to your mom.”

“No! Eleven said telling any adult would put us in danger.”

“What kind of danger?” Dustin asked, his thoughts from earlier about his sister and Will taking a shotgun with them crossed his mind.

Lucas gives him a weird look. “Her name is Eleven?” 

“El for short.” Mike clarifies.

“Mike! What kind of danger?” Dustin pushes, his stomach turning.

“Danger danger!” The brunette makes a finger gun and points it between Henderson’s eyes before moving over towards Lucas who demises quickly.

“No, no, no!” Sinclair snaps, rushing for the door. “We’re going back to plan A. We’re telling your mom.”

He pulls open the door only for it to slam shut automatically. Not even batting an eye at that, he tries again, for it to not only to shut with more force but to even lock itself. The boys look back at the only explanation, and they see El standing on her feet with a drop of blood coming out of her nose.

“No.” She said, with a tone that told them not to push it.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Back at the station, Hopper was questioning an anxious friend of Benny’s. Earl was his name, and he was sitting in a chair, eyes full of disbelief as he lit a cigarette.

“Just doesn’t make any sense, Chief.”

“You, uh, notice anything odd about him the last few weeks?” Hopper asked, trying to keep it professional (even though this case was hurting him the most). 

Earl shakes his head. “No, we’re fixin’ to go fishing down the Etowah next Sunday. I mean, he was lookin’ forward to it. I know that.”

“He got any enemies you might know about? I mean, people who might not want him around?”

“The exes didn’t like him much. That’s for sure, but… nah.”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“Yesterday. Lunch, same as always.”

“Just you and the boys?”

“Yep. Me and Henry and…” He pauses. “Well, there was this, uh, this kid. No kid did this.”

“Kid?” Hopper nearly perked up hope. “What are you talking about?”

“Yeah. At lunch, uh, there was this boy that, uh I mean, he was trying to steal food out of Benny’s kitchen. Can you imagine that?”

Hopper locked eyes with Callahan who got the silent message. “This kid what’d he look like?”

“Well, he was about yea high.” Earl raises his arm up and out. “You know, tiny like. I didn’t get a good look at him, though. He was back in the kitchen.”

“He look like this?” Callahan asked, coming back with a missing kid poster of Will. 

He takes the flier, and immediately shakes his head. “Oh, no, that’s… that’s Lonnie’s missin’ kid. No. This was a different kid. This one had really short hair. I mean, it was buzzed nearly down to the scalp.”

Hopper tries not to let his composure break, and continues to hold on to the slimmer of hope. “Yeah, well, let’s… You know, let’s forget about the haircut. I mean, if this kid had a buzz cut… could it be Lonnie’s kid?”

“Well, I-I… didn’t get a good look at him. About the right height, though. I mean, could’ve been. Yeah, that’s… Could’ve been.”

Hopper frowns, taking the poster back from him. “And, you only saw the boy right? No girl? Teenager? Dark hair?”

“No.” Earl shakes his head once more. “No. I didn’t see a girl.”

The Chief mentally sighs. This is not good.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

[ ‘A party?’ ]

Finally! Steve thought, pumping his fist. She finally sounded intrigued. He was hoping this would make up for his weird behavior at school. 

And, no, no, no, It wasn’t because of– well… ‘you know who’. Totally not because of her. Totally, totally, totally not–

[ ‘Steve?’ ]

Nancy’s voice broke through his totally not clouded mind. “Uh, yeah, sorry. Yeah, a party. Well… kind of. It’s just going to be me, Tommy H. and Carol. No parents for the whole weekend, so we wouldn’t have to worry about them coming in and ruining the mo-jo.”

Just my friends and my girlfriend. Just having fun, no worries about–

[ ‘Not much of a party with just four people.’ ]

He laughs. “Okay, I’ll admit, it’s a little sad. But you know, it’s better this way. And, you know, if you want to, you can invite Barbara. If it makes you feel more comfortable. Or not. Or you don’t have to come–”

[ ‘Steve.’ ]

“Yeah?”

[ ‘I’ll totally come. But I’m going to try to convince Barb first if that’s alright.’ ]

“Yeah, Yeah. Totally. It starts at seven.”

[ ‘Starts at seven. Got it. I’ll see you then.’ ]

He smiles. “See you then. Bye.”

[ ‘Bye.’ ] 

“Yes!” He said, once he hung up the phone. “Finally.” He feels his spirits get lifted again. “This is going to be perfect.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| HOURS BEFORE ||

“Welcome to Mi Casa.” Stephanie said, upon entering her home. Just as gross and dark as Will’s. 

“You said the basement, right?” Will asked, the thought of eating something sounded nice.

“Yep.” 

They thought navigating below “sunlight” was going to be hard, but I guess living in darkness for nearly twenty-four hours had its perks. Finding the tote where the emergency supplies were easier than they thought, their stomachs growing when they saw the cans of food. 

“Hang on second.” Steph said, disappearing back up the stairs for a sec, and then coming back with some forks and a can opener. She uses her shirt to wipe it clean the best she could before using. “Pineapple or Peaches?”

“Pineapple, please.” Will said, drooling as she placed the open can in his hands. The two of them plop down criss-cross applesauce, sighing with relief that they could finally take a rest.

“We’ll have to take what we can, but don’t make your bag too heavy in case we need to run again. Got it?” She replies, sliding over a bottle of water to him too. He nods, and takes a second to chug some liquid too.

One can was enough for now, since none of them had any clue how long they’ll be here, they’ll need to ration what they can find. Food, water, a first aid kit, some mittens and hats, an extra jacket, socks (And Will was proud to find a half box of matches laying around).

“Do we need anything else?” He asked, making her think.

She hums, and feels around her pockets. “We need more ammo. Or another gun at least.”

“Do you have any?” 

“No. I don’t.” She closes her eyes. Now where could we get more nearby? 

But the more she thought about it, the more she dreaded. She does know one place they have a gun, and hopefully still does since it’s been so long. 

She sighs. “I know… one place that has a gun. It’s far though. Really far. It’ll take us a couple hours to get there on foot. But it’s closer than going to town.” 

“If that’s what we have to do, then let’s do it.” Will said, sliding his backpack back on, ready to start their journey again. He flashes her a goofy grin. “I hope I can count this as PE for school.”

If that was a joke to cheer her up then it totally worked. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Now that they might have a lead, the police and its volunteers spread out in the woods behind Benny’s diner, hoping to find some good news (For Hopper’s sake he really hopes so). 

“Hey, you think Earl really saw Will?” Callahan asked, trying to keep up with his Boss’ speed. “I mean, what’s he doin’ with a shaved head? And stealing food from Benny?”

“Tell you what, when we find him, we’ll ask.” Hopper replies, with an attitude. 

“Can’t ask a corpse questions.” Powell said, getting a glare. Suddenly, one of the volunteers blew a whistle. 

“Hold up! You got something?” Hopper shouted and broke into a sprint. “Hey, what do you got?”

“Not sure.” The person said, crouching down next to a drain. “Maybe nothing. I found this. In there.”

Hopper takes a piece of fabric from his hand, before shining his flashlight through the drain, still hopeful that maybe he was lying in there, scared but safe. 

“No way a kid crawls through there.” Powell said, in denial.

“I don’t know… a scared enough one might. His brother said he was good at hiding.”

“Yeah, but, just Will?” Callahan asked, conflicted. “What happened to Stephanie? ‘Cause there ain’t no way a teenager’s going to fit through this drain pipe.”

“Maybe they separated?” Powell questioned. 

“I’m not so sure about that. Claudia said her daughter would never leave anyone behind.”

“Willingly that is.”

“Come on, you two.” Hopper said, jogging again.

This time, they decided to follow the drain pipe that led them further into the forest. Just as their knees were about to give out, they’re met with an electric fence and a keep out sign for the one and only…

.

.

.

Hawkins Lab.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“El?” Mike announces his arrival into the basement. He had just finished having dinner with his family, and even convinced his mom to let his friends stay the night. All part of his plan to figure out what was happening to his missing family.

“No adults. Just us and some meatloaf.” He continues, placing a tray down in front of the makeshift fort, letting her know to come out. Her eyes trail to him and then to the two boys falling behind. “Don’t worry. They won’t tell anyone about you. They promise. Right?”

“We never would’ve upset you if we knew you had superpowers.” Dustin said, before getting hit in the leg by Mike. “Ow!”

“What Dustin is trying to say is that they were just scared… earlier. That’s all.”

“We just wanted to find our friends.” Lucas admitted, feeling a tad guilty for his actions. 

“‘Friends’?” El asked, confused by that word. It was so foreign to her. What does it even mean? 

“Yeah, friends. Will? Steph?”

“What are ‘friends’?” 

Lucas gave her a weird look. “Is she serious?” Henderson shrugged. “Um, a friend–”

“Is someone that you’d do anything for.” Mike cuts in. 

“You lend them your cool stuff, like comic books and trading cards.” Dustin adds.

“And they never break a promise.”

“Especially when there’s spit.” Lucas also puts in, making sure she was getting it.

“Spit?” El said, tilting her head.

“A spit swear means–” He spits into his palm. “You never break your word.” He holds his hand out for Dustin to take and shake. “It’s a bond.”

Mike nods in agreement. “That’s super important, because friends… they tell each other things. Things that parents don’t know.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Barbara finally pulls the car over to the side after her friend insisted they stop here. She looks over at the brunette with a strange look. “What are we doing here? His house is three blocks away.”

“We can’t park in the driveway.” Nancy said, making the ginger roll her eyes.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, the neighbors might see.”

“This is so stupid.” Barb shakes her head. “I’m just gonna drop you off.”

“Calm down, Barb. Come on. You promised that you’d go.” Nancy pleaded with her ‘baby doe’ face. “You’re coming. We’re gonna have a great time.”

“He just wants to get in your pants.”

Nancy chuckles with disbelief. “No, he doesn’t.”

“Nance… seriously. He invited you to his house. His parents aren’t home. Come on, you are not this stupid.”

“Tommy H. and Carol are gonna be there.”

“Tommy and Carol have been having sex since, like, seventh grade.” Barb cringes at the thought. “It’ll probably just be, like, a big orgy.”

“Gross.”

“I’m serious!”

“All right, well…” Nancy takes her seat belt off and starts unbuttoning her sweater. “You can be, like, my guardian. All right? Make sure I don’t get drunk and do anything stupid.”

“Ugh.” Barb said, shaking her head. She watches as her friend takes her top off and starts fiddling around in her purse for another one. “Is that a new bra?”

Nancy pauses. “No.”

“So, obvious, Nancy…”

“Hey.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° 

“What’s the weirdo doing?” Lucas asked, watching her sit at their D&D table and close her eyes. 

“El?” Mike said, as they gathered around, waiting.

When she opens her eyes, she slowly gravitates to one of the pieces and picks it up. “Will.” She replies, showing it was the Wizard piece, the one that the boy always plays as.

“Superpowers.” Dustin said, as Lucas rolled his eyes, still not convinced about this whole thing. 

“Did you see him? On Mirkwood? Do you know where he is?” Mike asks, just before she brushes the rest of the figures off the board and flips it over. She places the wizard piece on the board. “I don’t understand.”

“Hiding.” She replies, the boys looking at one another. She then places another figure down, surprising them.

“Who is that supposed to be?” Lucas asked, as Dustin perked up.

“The Ranger. Is that Stephanie?” He asked, as she nodded. “Are they hiding?” She nods again. “Together.” Another nod.

“From the bad men?” Mike asked, but she shakes her head in disappointment. “Then from who?”

And without saying another word she places another figure down.

It was a beast with two heads.

.

.

.

The Demogorgon.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

It took a while like she said, and luckily they had no trouble getting there, but what was troubling the young boy was that she wouldn’t tell him where they were going. Was she embarrassed by this place? Did something happen? He doesn’t know, but it’s gnawing at him.

“We’ve arrived.” She said, as they were coming up to it.

It was… a pretty big house, much bigger than his and even his friends’ houses. He wonders if this was one of the rich neighbourhoods or something like that. And sure enough… his questions would be answered when he happened to catch the name on the mailbox. 

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Now he understands why she didn’t say anything. 

“So this is the…” Was he choosing his words correctly? “The King’s house?”

“Yep.” Stephanie said, hand on the doorknob which miraculously opened. She rolls her blue eyes. “They still keep it unlocked.” They stepped inside, still gloomy and covered in vines and goo like the last two. “Let’s go upstairs.”

Will follows behind, observing everything that seemed a bit foreign for him. “I knew they were rich but I didn’t know they were that rich.” He said after observing art piece after art piece that he knows isn’t locally made.

“Yeah, they got crazy money.” She said, and her pace seemed to quicken without her noticing. She hustles into the parents room, opening the closet to find a safe. “Shit.” She forgot about the lock. “Where did that bastard put the key?”

Stephanie starts running around the bedroom, pulling open drawers, looking through trinkets, his wife’s jewelry box too – A curse word after every failed attempt.

“Steph?” Will said, worriedly.

“Just give me a second.” She snapped, and left the room. She starts opening the drawers from the tables in the hallway, visibly getting more annoyed with each second. “For fuck sakes–”

“Stephanie!”

“What?!” She slammed it shut, rattling everything that was on. The force and her tone seemed to shock him, and even take a small step back. She grips the table, closing her eyes to calm herself. “Fuck. I just…”

And when she opens them she finds herself staring at the boy she wanted to forget about. It was a picture of him on his swim team, the frame saying: Championship 1981. She just stares at with emotions the youngest Byers couldn’t figure out what they were.

“Steph?” He asked, slowly.

“Yeah?”

“What happened to you and Steve?”

She continues to stare at the photo for another minute before pushing herself to stand. “I think he still keeps that knife in his room.” Was what she muttered before heading in the opposite direction to another room. 

Will could only wonder what really happened to them…

.

.

.

Just as the lights started to flicker.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•° 

|| PRESENT ||

Inside the most “fabulous” party of the year, Barb laid back in one of the pool chairs, listening to the terrible music that’s blasting in her ear as her best friend watches her boyfriend slice a hole into a beer can and start drinking it all in one go.

“Is that supposed to impress me?” Nancy asked, as he sat down and lit a cigarette. 

“You’re not?” Steve asked, genuinely surprised. 

“You are a cliche, you do realize that?”

“You are a cliche. What with your– your grades and your band practice.”

“I’m so not in band.”

“Okay, party girl. Why don’t you just, uh, show us how it’s done, then?” He hands her the knife and a can.

“Okay.” She says, all giggly.

“You gotta make a little hole right in–”

“I got it.”

“Yeah, she’s smart, you douche!” Tommy said, as he crushes his own can on his forehead. 

Soon, everyone was chanting “Chug” as Nancy down a whole beer in under thirty seconds. Everyone cheered and laughed, proud at the achievement. 

“Barb, you wanna try?” Nancy asked, holding the blade up.

“What? No. No, I don’t want to. Thanks.” She said, shaking her head. But after a quick back and forth badgering she finally gave in. She rips the items out of the girl’s hand, clearly upset. It wasn’t long before her judgment was clouding her mind and accidentally nicks herself. 

“Whoa, Gnarly.” Tommy said, impressed by the deep cut.

“Are you okay?” Nancy asked, worriedly.

“Yeah.” Barb said, trying to push her away. 

“Barb, you’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Oh, it’s– Steve stands up, and starts taking her over to the sliding door. “It’s, uh, down past the kitchen, to the left.” He frowns. Shit of course.

But before he could say anything, Tommy had pushed Carol into the pool and then jumped in after her. Steve then shrugs, and lets a smirk play on his face as he does the same to Nancy before doing a cannonball.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW ||

Steph tries to contain herself as she enters his room. It was taking a lot of strength not to just start flipping things over, and tear those stupid pendants off the wall.

Stupid fucking house. Stupid fucking room. Stupid fucking Harrington. She grits her teeth, fighting back the tears in her eyes as she desperately tries to remember where he hid the blade.

She lets out a groan. “For fuck sake’s, man! Where did you put it?!” She yells, and kicks whatever was near her. She swears something must have fallen out from it, but she doesn’t even want to look. 

God damn you, Harrington. She scolds, and rubs her face. How can he–

That’s when the light in his room flickered on and off scaring her half to death. “What the–”

“Stephanie!” Will’s voice shouted, kicking her into high gear.

“Fuck.” She mumbles, and races to find that blade.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| PRESENT || 

As soon as Barb comes out of the bathroom, she immediately spots a certain someone heading up the stairs. “Nance! Nancy.” She shouts, getting her to stop. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. Just… upstairs. To change. I… fell in the pool.” Nancy said, feeling like she was on cloud nine. “Why don’t you go ahead and go home. I’ll just… I’ll get a ride or something.”

“Nance–”

“Barb, I’m fine.”

“This isn’t you.”

“I’m fine. Just go ahead and go home, okay?” 

And then Nancy leaves her all alone, confused and heartbroken by her friend’s actions. But despite being hurt, she couldn’t just up and leave her drunken buddy like this. So… 

She decides to wait.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Steve had found her some clothes she could change in, and he was grinning like a kid upon the thought of seeing his girlfriend in his clothes. 

I’m such a dork. He tells himself as she calls out his name. “Yeah?” There was a look in her eyes that he’s never seen before, and honestly was turned on by it.

But ‘Fuck that’, says the universe, and the home phone starts to ring.

He groans, irritated. “Hang on a second–” He proceeds to run out of the room, and shouts, “Hey! Turn the music down in case it’s my parents.”

Nancy chuckles, cheeks flush because she was ready to lose her– wait. Did something just touch her leg? She looks down to find that a box was tipped over and had opened, and wonders when that happened. Did she accidently kick it without realizing? Or was it already like that? Frankly, curiosity got the best of her as she crouched down to try to fix it. But then, her actions slowed when she saw something.

The Wheeler picks up a paper – a flier – to her surprise was the missing poster of Stephanie Henderson. 

“What?” She says, quietly, confusedly. Why was he keeping this? And that’s when she puts two and two together. She starts shifting through the small pile which was made up of photos, movie tickets, receipts from a record store, arcade tokens and– “Oh, my god.”

Suddenly, Steve comes jogging back in, relief on his face. “False alarm. It was just–”

“So who is she to you?” Nancy asked, standing up and flashing the memorabilia at him.

His face falls immediately. “Hey, that’s–”

“Is she the person that was rumored you pushed away?”

“It’s nothing.” Steve replies, trying to take the stuff away from her, but she ain’t budging.

“It’s nothing, or she’s nothing?”

“It’s– W-What? You jealous?” He asked, trying to play this thing off cool, but his girlfriend wasn’t stupid.

“I’m not jealous. I’m just curious.” Nancy replies, honestly. She takes another look at the photos in her hand before looking back at him. “I mean, if she isn’t your friend anymore, then why do you hang on to all this stuff? Or better question–”

“Nancy, stop, it’s just–”

“Why did you break it off?”

His brain short circuits again. “What?”

“I said, ‘Why did you break it off?’ I mean…” She flips through some of the photos he has, memorized. “From what I see, you two remind me of Barb and I. You two look like you were tied at the hip. So why break it off?”

“I…” Why couldn’t he fucking talk all of a sudden? “I didn’t, I–”

“So, she broke it off?” She said, eyebrow raised. 

“No. I-I broke it off, she didn’t do anything–”

“So… why did you?”

“Nancy–”

“Look, I just want to understand you. I mean, every time I think I have you figured out you throw me through a loop.” She gives him a reassuring look as she picks up the box, shuffling whatever was remaining around. “I mean, from what I see, you seem like a completely different person then. I just wonder if it’s a good thing or a bad–” 

Now it was her turn to look lost (and for Steve to lose all the color in his face). She frowns, slowly pulling out a small casing. “Is this a… bullet?”

“That’s nothing!” He manages to snag at least that away.

“Why do you have a bullet in the box?!” She asks, eyes blown wide.

He swallows. “Nancy–”

“Did you shoot her or something?”

“What?!” He scoffs. “No! Why would I shoot her?!”

“Well did she shoot you?”

“No! Nobody shot anybody, it was just–”

“Then why do you have a stray bullet cas–”

“‘CAUSE IT WAS MY FAULT!! OKAY?!” Steve snaps, startling them both (He can’t believe he just lost his cool like that). He swallows again, head spinning at the memories (Why did he fucking leave the box right there?). “I just… there was an incident and… it… shaped my decision, okay? But it didn’t involve me or her with a gun, it was… s-someone else. Someone I know. I don’t know why I’m holding onto it, I…” He sighs and grabs the box, holding it out for her to put the stuff away.

It takes her a moment to process it all, and she does put all the stuff in her hands away, but she remains silent the whole time. She’s never seen him act this way before.

It honestly concerned her.

Nancy breaks eye contact, and only reverses it when she gathers the right words. “Look, Steve, I’m sorry I intruded, I probably shouldn’t have but… I’m just trying to understand you.”

Steve shakes his head, still confused. “I-I…” He shrugs, and crosses his arms defensibly. “What’s there to understand?”

Nancy gestures to him and says, “Well, for starters, you’re an airhead and–”

“So?” He cuts in, as she holds her tongue and continues. 

“And you’re arrogant, snarky, and sweet–”

“Sweet’s fine.”

“Of course. Sweet’s fine. I love how nice you are to me, Steve.” She then frowns for him. “However, that gets overshadowed by your… insecurities.”

He pauses, now it was his turn to take in those words (What the hell did she mean by that? He’s not… no). “I don’t… I don’t have any… any–”

“Steve.” Nancy takes a step closer. “I don’t know why the kid in these pictures decided to change into the one I’m seeing before me, but if that doesn’t have to do with any insecurities, then I’m not sure why you decided to make that change willingly.”

“I… W-Willingly?” He scoffs again. “What do you mean? I never change willingly? What are you even getting at, Nance?” He hasn’t changed. He’s never changed. What is she even getting at?

But Nancy looked at him with eyes full of pity and took another step closer. “I don’t know what the reason was for you two to stop being friends, but all I know, from what I gathered, she wasn’t the one to end it.” She places Steph’s flier on his chest that he subconsciously grabbed, and said one last thing before leaving his room. And that was,

“Maybe there was a good reason for you to end it, but that’s not an excuse for you to stop being who you really are.”

And Steve’s left with an epiphany he’s not sure he can decipher. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

|| NOW || 

As soon as the lock was broken, she retrieved the gun from the safe and frantically told her companion to get down the stairs. Will and Steph’s hearts were in their ears, and it sped up when the light above the front door flickered.

“Shit–” She pulls the boy to a halt, and redirects them to the back door. “Go, go, go, go, go.” 

She throws open the sliding door, and out into the backyard, but as soon as they step foot onto the ground, the lights around the empty pool start to flicker. The two of them stopped immediately and held their breaths. They weren’t sure where the beast was at, but it was definitely nearby ready to snatch them up.

They were afraid to even breathe or twitch. What if this thing really does appear out of thin air?

They both jolted when a loud growl came from somewhere inside the pool. Wasting no time, Steph taps Will on the arm and makes a shushing gesture, then waves him to follow her. The boy understood completely, and the two of them move slowly, so carefully that there’s not way–

The both of them screamed when two human hands grabbed onto the top of the pool ladder. 

A girl’s head poked up, face battered and covered in grime, her glasses shattered and splattered with blood. The girl looked so fam–

“Nancy!!” She shouts, as something growls behind her, scaring all of them to their core. And when her eyes landed on the two of them, she desperately yelled for help just seconds before the beast’s claws wrapped around her head and pulled her back. 

Will and Steph matched the girl’s scream, and the beast roared in delight that his prey was just right in front of it. Its claws could be seen grabbing the ladder, like it was trying to crawl out and feast.

That’s when the two of them booked it. 

The guns rattled in their hands.

The tears in their eyes.

Whatever this place was, they knew…

.

.

.

This couldn’t get compared to hell itself.

(TBC)

-Taglist is Open-

@ladygrey03 @poppet05 @tooearlyforthis @lovesfics @lordzzz

@mirkwoodshewolf @sadbitchfangirl @olivewisp

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[steddieonmywaywardson]

The Ghost (1990 movie) au nobody asked for!

“Argh! What the fuck? You’re here?” She shrieks. Before Steve can answer, she shakes her head as she begins to pace back and forth in front of the couch. “No. No. You’re not. You’re not here at all,” she babbles. “This was bound to happen. Overactive imagination. That’s what they all say. I’ve been watching too many movies. Concentrating too much on my script. It’s starting to bleed into real life and you’re just a figment of my imagination because I’m tired. Yup. That’s it,”

“I need your help Robin. I-“

“My help?” She laughs mirthlessly. “Oh no. No, no, no,” she’s shaking her head again. “I’m no help to anyone. I need to cut my hours at the video store…and I need to give the writing a break. Maybe go back home to Indiana. That sounds good right now…”

“I’m not a figment of your imagination,” Steve replies gently. He’s been so caught up in the fact that he’s finally found someone who can hear him, he’s forgotten how terrifying it must be for Robin. “I really wish it didn’t have to be this way, trust me, but you’re the first person since I died that’s been able to hear me,”

“Since you died?” Robin blinks. She’s still shaking her head in disbelief. “I can talk to dead people. Like some weird superpower or something…I couldn’t write this shit if I tried…” she slumps down on the couch and puts her head in her hands.

“You’re a writer?” Steve asks.

“Trying to be,” Robin replies, looking up. “Between taking shifts at a video store and an ice cream place to make ends meet,” she sighs. “And now I’m talking to you, as if I wasn’t having a mental breakdown right now. Who are you anyway?”

“My name’s Steve Harrington-“

“Uh huh. Do I know you or something? I don’t remember any Steve Harringtons…” she thinks for a moment. “Wait, were you the guy in my media class? The one who was always leaving his muffin crumbs all over the classroom floor?”

“No. I’m…well, I was a banker. Working near Tribeca-“ Steve answers.

“A banker?” Robin says incredulously. She rolls her eyes. “Why the hell would I make that up? I know nothing about banking!”

It’s obvious they’re getting nowhere but Steve needs to do this. He needs her to hear him so he can save Eddie from Jason.

“I’ll prove to you I’m real! Do you have last week’s newspaper?”

Robin narrows her eyes at him but she dutifully stands up and disappears into the small kitchen. A few moments later, she comes back with a crumpled newspaper, obviously rescued from the garbage. She sits back down and throws the paper onto the coffee table in front of her.

“Turn to page fifteen,” Steve says.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this…” She mutters to herself as she unfolds the newspaper and rifles through it until she reaches the right page.

“Left column, near the bottom,” Steve instructs.

He watches as Robin’s eyes dart across the page and stop when she reaches the article. Her eyes widen.

“Ok so….that doesn’t prove you’re real,” she says after a minute or two. “If anything, it proves my overtired theory. I clearly read about you and now my subconscious is manifesting you,” she explains. “Yeah, I took psychology in college,”

“Please Robin,” Steve says desperately. “I know this is a really shitty situation, OK? I’m dead. I was murdered actually and I’ve been taken away from the love of my life and it just so happens you’re the only person I know of that can hear me. Do I wish it was different? Fuck yeah I do. If I have to…be dead, then why can’t it be my boyfriend who hears me y’know?”

“Your boyfriend?” Robin suddenly looks interested. “You’re gay?”

“Yeah but-“

“Huh.” Robin replies. She opens her mouth as if there’s going to be more, but shakes her head again. “So…why do you need my help?”

[withlovewriting]

All I Ever Knew, Only You 1: Bye Bye, Benny

Chapter One.

You were riding your bike to the sound of ‘It’s No Big Deal’, And you’re trying to lift off the ground on those old two wheels, Nothing ‘bout the way that you were treated ever seemed especially alarming till now, So you tie up your hair and you smile like it’s no big deal.

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything. 

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities, and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 4,983

Chapter Warnings: Strong language, alcohol abuse, child abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, typical season 1 mean-girl Steve and his little gang of assholes. An offensive term to specific religion, i guess. Also apologies, first chapters are awkward and just plot building but there ya go.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize... ‘wait a damn minute...’, eventual sexual content, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

Next Chapter

Masterlist

(art)

Chapter One: Bye Bye, Benny.

Your legs moved faster than ever before, calves crying out in pain as your lungs burned, feeling like you hadn’t taken a proper breath in forever. But you still continued to push forward, dodging the oncoming vehicle and pedestrians as best you could. A car slammed on their breaks, horn blaring through the bustling streets during the late evening causing you to wobble slightly, hands gripping the handle bars of your bike so tightly you were sure you’d be able to pull them off completely.

Once you had regained your balance, you held up a hand, a silent sorry to the passing car as the driver shouted obscenities that you didn’t have time to be offended by. Just as you passed the coroners office, a loud whoop, whoop sounded behind you, the red and blue lights lighting up the ever darkening evening.

Shit, you mumbled to yourself, head darting around to watch as the officer stuck his hand out of the window, flagging you down. Well, you were definitely going to be late now.

Stopping alongside the side walk, one dirty converse perched on the curb to balance yourself, you waited as he slowly approached you, taking his sweet time. Of course, it wouldn’t be Callahan, the man gullible enough that you could easily spin a tale and get yourself out of this quickly, or even officer Powell, the man much more commanding than the former yet still not as assertive — or nosy — as the man in the unsightly beige uniform that was walking towards you.

“Kid, do you know how recklessly you were riding?”

Tilting your head backwards, face scrunched up slightly, you tried to suppress the annoyance that was bound to seep through your voice, “Hop, listen-”

“You almost caused two separate road traffic accidents, and don’t even think I didn’t see you almost wipe out Mrs. Lloyd.”

“Hopper, I-”

“I should take this damn thing off you, throw it in the junk yard where it belongs. Looks like this piece of shit is falling apart.”

“Are you gonna give me a ticket? Because if you are, can we speed this thing along and maybe save the whole responsibility talk for next time.”

Raising a brow, Jim sent you an incredulous look, “Next time?”

Rolling your eyes, you finally released the pent up, frustrated sigh, “ You know what I mean.”

Mumbling under his breath, Jim took off his slightly off-color hat before gripping his leather belt, hands firm on his hips, “Look, kid. You’re on a bike, which means you’re not gonna win any fight you decide to pick that day with a car. You might not give a shit, but I could really do without the extra paperwork. So stop riding like you’ve just robbed a bank.”

Nodding along with the man, you hoped your silent agreement would make this exchange go by at least a little quicker.

“I’m giving you a verbal warning, alright? If I have even one more complaint about a delinquent teenage cyclist bowling over old ladies in the street, I’ll personally arrest you myself and make you fill out the complaints paperwork. Got it?”

“Got it, chief.”

You couldn’t help but imagine how boring his job must be — especially since moving back from New York — to even bother with a cycling non-incident.

“Now, grab you bike and throw it in the back, if you’re in such a rush my car will get you there a lot quicker than that rusted piece of junk.”

Doing as he said, you then joined him in the car, the man glaring at you until you remembered to buckle your seat belt. Eventually, he pulled away, and you directed him towards Oak street.

“So, hows your Mom doing?”

His comment was meant to come off as flippant, uninterested in your actual answer and just trying to fill the silence. But you’d had your fair share of interactions with Jim Hopper since he crawled back to Hawkins in 1979, as had your mother.

He’d vehemently deny it if he was ever asked, but Jim Hopper — in all of his gruff, cynical glory — had a soft underbelly. He didn’t care about much any more. Not his job, not himself, nor any family, but in the few months he’d had some kind of relationship with your mother, he had unwittingly taken on a role in your life that had been missing for so, so long. So, what did it matter if he checked in every now and then?

Shuffling uncomfortably, you peered out of the passenger window, hoping he wouldn’t push too hard, “She’s fine. Got a cold, at the moment, so…Can’t exactly make it into work right now.”

“You’re covering for her again? You really shouldn’t be out late, and especially not on a school night-”

“She’s not well, Hop. A lecture won’t pay the bills.”

Despite reading between the lines, Hopper shut his mouth, even for just a moment before changing the subject, “No car tonight?”

“Mom forgot to get gas after work last night.”

“I thought she was too ill to work.”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you couldn’t have been more happy to see the shitty, run down bar you’d be spending the next couple of hours. Barely letting the man come to a full stop, you hopped out of the car before struggling to pull your bike out of the trunk without scuffing the police vehicle,

“Thanks for the ride, Hop.”

As if it took him a moment to realize you’d even exited the car, he quickly rolled down his window, “You’re not even old enough to be in there-”

It was safe to say your ride home from covering your mother’s shift wasn’t as fast paced, or exciting, as your previous journey.

You felt exhausted after a long day working at the arcade, revising for a stupid chemistry test that Mr. Kaminsky seemed determined to make half of the class fail, and then rushing like a mad man toward The Hideout, a long 6 hour shift bussing tables for old men who seemingly had boundary issues when it came to teenage girls. If it wasn’t for Thomas, the shift manager, you might’ve had another run in with the chief, certain you’d of stuck a fork through one of Mr Hanson’s wandering hands.

Turning down Morehead Street, you were almost relieved to be home. Almost.

All you wanted to do was shower off the smell of stale beer and greasy burgers and flop into bed. This wasn’t exactly how you’d wanted to spend your Sunday.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the lurking feeling of uneasiness crawled up your throat, the familiar, yet uncertain apprehension causing you to slow to a stop outside of the large, blue house that sat at the other end of your street. Hauntingly intimidating, the formidable house had sat abandoned since before you were even born. Children would often dare each other to play ding-dong-ditch, especially around Halloween, but nobody to your knowledge had actually made it much further than the path that led toward the rotten porch stairs. It had been boarded up since before you could remember, and nobody seemed all that bothered to disrupt it, the memories of what happened there more than two decades ago settled like the dust that was sure to line the floorboards inside.

Despite the desolate appearance in the daytime, the house only looked even more daunting in the shadows that lingered in the night, crawling their way over the house to leave it in almost total darkness.

Swallowing down the lump of uneasiness, you placed your foot back onto the pedal, ready to push off when you heard something. Your head swiveled back toward the large house, eyes wide and inquisitive, certain you’d heard voices.

Maybe the teenagers of Hawkins had finally become brave enough to step forth into the house, or maybe it was the ghosts of the slain family. Either way, you weren’t hanging around to find out, cycling home a little faster than before as you willed yourself to not peer back at the house for one last look, too worried about what, or who, you might find staring back.

Leaving your bike in the front yard — it was Hawkins, after all and the only thing more boring than the teenagers in this town, was the workload, or lack thereof, for the police — you quietly made your way up the creaky, half-rotten porch steps, all too aware of the television blaring so loudly from the living room that you could hear it from outside.

After taking a moment to prepare yourself, you finally pushed the door open, silently grumbling about how your mother always left it unlocked, regardless the time of day. Creeping toward the archway leading to the living room, you caught sight of your mother slumped on the sofa, eyes heavy from more than just sleep, but somehow still conscious. Stepping into the room, you called out for her, hoping she’d hear you over the loud laughter from whatever bullshit show she was half-watching.

“Mom?”

Her head turned, eyebrows raised as if she was surprised anyone had entered the house at all, before her glossed over eyes narrowed, pointing the empty bottle in her hand in your direction, “Where the hell have you been?”

It took everything in you not to release a frustrated sigh, telling her that you had in fact been covering her shift in order to guarantee you’d be able to keep the heating on this month. Winter in Indiana was a bitch and you were certain neither of you would survive another year without at least a mildly-warm house.

“I was working, Mom. C’mon, lets get you to bed-”

“Were you late? Cause you know they dock my wage by a whole hour if you’re even a fuckin’ minute late.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you shook your head, avoiding her eyes, “No, Mom. I wasn’t late. I-”

“Fuckin’ liar!” Standing, your mother wobbled on uncertain legs much like a newborn foal as she stumbled toward the telephone, where the answering machine blinked a devious, betraying red. Your mother almost looked too happy that she’d caught you in a lie as her clumsy pointer finger pushed hard at the button, playing the message out loud,

‘Rebecca, this is Thomas. You’re late for your shift, again. You better be on your way, I swear to god, this is the last fucking time. And you better not send your kid, again. I’m sick of it, Bec. So unless your face-down in your own vomit somewhere, you better be in work within the next 10 minutes, or- Oh, hey sweetheart-’

Bottle still in hand, your mother floundered toward you, nose scrunched in annoyance and distrust, as if you’d lied to her about something so much worse, like smashing up the car, or god forbid, pouring one of her beloved bottles down the kitchen sink.

Thankfully, by the time she reached you, she’d not only half forgotten what she was mad about, but wouldn’t be able to work out which one of you she saw to swing at. So instead, you took her gently by the shoulders, ushering her toward her bedroom. She collapsed onto her bed face-first and rather ungraciously her fingertips still gripping the empty bottle as if her life depended on it, and by the time you’d placed a throw blanket over her body, soft snores were already escaping her.

Despite your mother now being out cold, you still closed your bedroom door as quietly as possible, the fear that you’d manage to wake her up too ingrained in you to do anything but.

Keeping the light off, you sprawled out onto your own bed, deciding to forgo the shower and overflowing laundry basket that had been calling out to you most of the week.

Deciding to shower when you awoke in the morning, you didn’t have a choice but to drive your mother’s old Fiat Brava to school, knowing you’d be late otherwise.

Grumbling at yourself for not finding time to do the laundry, you dug deep into your drawers, trying to find something both suitable for school, knowing half of the clothes were creeping up on being too small for you. But money was sparse in your household, and an oversized jacket that you were yet to grow into had sufficed so far.

Pulling out a blue blouse that you absolutely knew was too small, meaning you would be pulling down the sleeves all day in an attempt to stop them ending up halfway up your forearm, you knew it would have to do. 

Leaving with barely enough time to fill up the coffee pot in hopes your mother would be drawn to the bitter smell rather than the temptation of the alcohol cupboard, you remained just under the speed limit, gnawing at your lip for the entirety of the drive.

School was dragging by, every minute feeling like an hour, and you knew clock-watching wouldn’t help, the gentle tick, tick, tick lulling you into a drowsy mess as you tried your best to keep your attention on your school work.

Making your way toward your locker, ready to dump half of your books out and enjoy your free period sleeping in the library, you saw Barb staring off down the hallway, her eyebrows pulled together as she watched Nancy turn the corner in a hurry.

“Everything OK?” You asked, causing her to jump slightly, head whipping toward you.

Relaxing as she realized it was you, she released an annoyed sigh, “It’s like he calls and she goes running. Literally.”

“You mean Harrington?”

“She’s still denying they’re even a thing.”

Your eyes remained in the direction of where Nancy had disappeared to, the hallways clearing out as people prepared for their next lesson, “Nancy’s a smart girl. She knows what he’s like.”

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Barb sighed, pushing her glasses to sit a little higher on the bridge of her nose, “He’s gonna use her, and dump her, and she’ll end up hurt. Just like every other girl he’s dated.”

“Dated is a very loose term,” you joked, Converse heel digging into the hard floor when Barb didn’t quite appreciate the joke, “He’ll get bored eventually, alright? He always does. But Nancy’s not an idiot. I highly doubt she really thinks he’s gonna be the love of her life, or even her date to prom if his reputation is anything to go by.”

When Barb remained silent, her top teeth worrying at her bottom lip you sighed, “Hey, if he hurts her, we can always key his car. Or set his hair on fire. God knows it’s got enough product in it to go up like a bonfire.”

That, at least, caused a smile to pull at Barb’s lips. Feeling satisfied that you’d at least kind of cheered the girl up, you left your friend with a reassuring pat on the shoulder before making your way down the long hallway.

Pushing the bathroom door open, you came to a halt almost right away, body colliding with the same person you’d just been shit talking for the last five minutes.

“Watch where you’re going-”

Scoffing at the boy, you pushed him away slightly, “This is the girl’s restroom, nimrod. You watch where you’re going.”

Rolling his eyes, Steve lent back against the wall slightly, hands grasped at his hips, “Nice shirt, but I think you’re shopping in the wrong age department of the Goodwill.”

“Says the person wearing a polo. Mommy pick it out at the GAP?”

Your stand off would’ve continued for much longer, had the second bell not have rung. Grabbing his yellow gym bag from the floor, he brushed past you with an annoyed glare, “It’s a vintage H R Robinson’s.”

God, he was such an ass.

Word about Will Byers’ disappearance had spread around town quicker than the time Mrs. Hunt’s husband had been caught balls deep in his receptionist at the local car dealership.

After returning home, your mother was nowhere to be found and to say you spent your night pacing around and doing absolutely anything to take your mind off the fact she was gone, was an understatement.

Your laundry was washed, dried and shoved back into your drawers, homework finished in record time and by 9pm you were certain you were a chemistry master. At least, you would’ve been, had any of the information stuck in your brain, instead using your notes as nothing more than a distraction.

So when the sound of shoes kicking up rocks and unsettling the gravel on your driveway roused you from your light sleep, you felt your heart finally settle back down to a normal speed as your mother carelessly stumbled down the path, slamming the front door shut behind her — still not learning to lock it — before making her way to her own bedroom.

Peering at your clock, the illuminating numbers spelled out 4am, causing you to release a long sigh before rolling over, hoping that you wouldn’t sleep through your alarm, less so for the fear of being late to school, and more-so for the fear of your mother’s hungover wrath if it woke her up instead.

Shoving a few books into your locker, you felt too mentally drained to even bother with the chemistry test, and if it didn’t count for half of your grade that semester, then you probably would’ve skipped.

The doors at the end of the corridor opened, the cool November wind slipping in behind a head of brown, scraggly hair, and you felt your heart plummet. Closing your locker, you heaved your half-empty messenger bag over your body and made your way towards the boy,

“Hey, Jonathan.”

The boy peered back at you, a strained smile on his face as he struggled holding everything in his hands and attempting to pin one of the papers to the board, “Oh, hey.”

Taking the papers from under his arm, you tried to send him a reassuring smile, “I, uh… I heard about Will. He’s a smart kid… He’ll be back soon, he’s probably just… hiding out, you know.”

Jonathan’s smile grew meeker, “Yeah… Yeah, I’m sure he will. It’s just not like him, you know? He’s not the kind of kid to just run off.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, eyes peering down at one of the many sheets you held for him, the boy’s smile wide and genuine. You didn’t know, though. You felt like you barely knew Jonathan, let alone Will. The eldest of the siblings, you’d met during your quick stint working at the cinema down town. You had similar music taste, bonding over your disdain for the popular kids in school, and he’d even taught you how to properly change the pump for the buttered popcorn. Your job there had only lasted a few months, but your friendship with Jonathan had lasted a lot longer. But it wasn’t like you two sat around braiding each others hair.

He was quiet and meek, whilst you were indifferent and aberrant. At least, that’s what your mother had always called you. You had perfected the art of acting like you didn’t care, and Jonathan seemed to not care at all. He kept to himself, and that’s how he liked it. You had bulldozed your way into his life, pouring flat half-cups of Coca-Cola and stale barely buttered popcorn and given him no real chance but to accept your sudden appearance. He took it in his stride, at least. But he remained quiet and shy, nonetheless.

“Hey,” a small, familiar voice called from behind you. Turning, you both send Nancy a small smile. Handing the papers back to the boy, you gave them space to talk, ready to make your way towards Kaminsky’s classroom in hopes of looking over your notes one last time.

Barb, however, had another idea, her arm halting you mid-stride before you could pass, “How is he?”

Before you could answer, you could hear the snickering of the three people to your left, “Yeah, hows he doing? Heard guilt can really tear a person down from the inside, out.”

Watching as Tommy’s face broke out into a large grin, the boy finding himself all too funny, your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, “What the hell are you talking about, Hagan?”

“He’s talking about the rumor that your boyfriend over there had something to do with his brother’s disappearance,” Steve explained, his eyes still set on his girlfriend, “Might wanna be careful. I wouldn’t be in any rooms alone with him.”

Scoffing, you crossed your arms over your chest, eyes darting toward Jonathan, Nancy, their eyes soft and sweet, and then back to Steve, an insolent smile tugging at the corners of your mouth, “I think if anyone needs to be worried, it’s you, Harrington.”

Steve’s dark eyes darted toward you, and you made a point of looking back at his girlfriend, eyebrows raised as the smile broke onto your face. Deciding you’d had enough, you strolled down the hallway, ignoring Steve’s confused calls of your name.

“Absolutely not,” you shook your head, sucking in a deep inhale of smoke, trying your best to aim it away from your friend as you blew it out, “The last thing I intend to do tonight is go to a lame-ass party at Harrington’s house. I’d rather fry my own eyeballs.”

Barb pouted, her eyes widening as they silently pleaded with you, causing you to turn your attention to the cigarette between your fingers,

“You have to come, please. I really, really don’t want to the the 3rd wheel tonight.”

Rolling your eyes at the girl’s dramatics, you sucked in another deep breath, the smoke burning your lungs slightly, “You won’t be a 3rd anything, Carol and Tommy will be there, too.”

“Ugh, 5th wheel, then. Please? I really don’t want to spend my entire evening there alone.”

“And I don’t want to spend even a second of my time there, at all. Why don’t you just tell Nancy no, for once? Put your foot down? I mean, she’ll be swapping spit with Harrington all night either way.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Barb send you an exasperated sigh, “You know I can’t do that.”

Your hand halted mid-way to your mouth, cigarette burning right down to the end, leaving you only faintly aware of the slight pain, but your eyes were focused on Barb. Of course, you knew Barb couldn’t — and wouldn’t — let Nancy go to this party alone. And you knew why, too. But that didn’t mean you had to be dragged along too, did it?

Dropping the butt of your cigarette onto the floor and crushing it with your worn sneaker, you frowned, forehead creasing as you sighed, staring off into the distance, “Oh my god, fine. I’ll go. But only for an hour, and then I’m out.”

Barb had never looked more grateful, pulling you into a strong hug and thanking you a million times.

Unable to not smile back at the girl, you shook your head, “Who even has a party on a Tuesday night?”

The plan was for Barb to pick you up at 8pm, along with Nancy. The girls had told their parents that you would all be studying at the library before sleeping over Nancy’s house. It was only a half-truth at best, and one that needn’t be repeated for your own mother.

Around 5pm you drove out towards Randolph lane, deciding to grab some burgers for yourself and your mother, hoping that it would at least sober her up whenever she wandered in that evening. Grumbling, you realized you still hadn’t topped up on gas, and decided that after you’d hit the gas station before heading home, hoping you still had some change in the car.

Pulling into the parking lot, a frown pulled at your features, dipping your brows towards each other. The lights were shut off, and as you approached the door, you almost bounced right off it, realizing a little too late that it was locked. Jiggling the door handle a few times, you knocked on the glass. Sure, Benny could’ve closed up early… But Benny never closed up early. Not even on week nights. He was always open for the evening rush normally fueled by hungry teens and loitering pre-teens.

“Benny? You in there?” Rasping your knuckles against the door one last time, you huffed, annoyed that your plan of an easy dinner and been thwarted. Before you turned to return to your car, something through the darkened window caught your eye.

It was definitely a figure at the table, but not quiet sat… More-so slumped. Backing away from the window a little too quickly, you stumbled off the deep curb, falling backwards onto the concrete. Eyes wide as you pushed yourself back, you managed to heave yourself up before taking off across the road, heading into the gas station.

The bell rang as the door bounced off the wall, hinges squeaking as the owner, Earl, turned his annoyed glare in your direction, “Careful with the damn door-”

Upon seeing your panicked face, Earl quickly made his way around the counter, brows pulled together in a frown as he held his hands out, “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“I think… I think something’s wrong with Benny-”

“Benny? Benny Hammond? I saw him yesterday, he’s fine-”

Shaking your head, your eyes whipped back toward the diner, “No, I… I don’t know. I came to get dinner, but it’s closed, so I looked through the window and I think… I think I can see him.”

Earl’s eyes darted between yourself and the diner, concern and skepticism evident on his features, “Right. I’m gonna go check it out, you get on the phone to the Sheriff. But I swear to God kid, if this is some stupid teenage prank-”

Perched on the wall just outside the diner, your leg bounced erratically as you waited for Hopper to return from inside. He’d arrived within 30 minutes, Powell to his left and Callahan to his right, and a face stormier than a rain cloud.

It didn’t take 10 minutes after his arrival for the fire department and ambulance to turn up, backdoor open as they carried out a stretcher.

“What happened, kid?” Hopper’s once dour expression had melted away, smoothing out into something slightly softer, though his frown remained. Maybe, after so many years, his face was stuck like that, you wondered.

Shrugging, your teeth worried at your bottom lip for a moment, “I came to get dinner. The door was locked and… Benny never shuts this early.”

Nodding, Hopper scribbled something down on his notepad before turning his attention back to you, swallowing uncomfortably at your tremulous voice, “Then what?”

“I thought it was weird… Knocked on the door a few times, but I didn’t get a response. So I looked through the gap in the curtains and… I don’t know. I saw someone leaning over a table. I didn’t know what was going on so I went and got Earl. He said to call you guys.”

“Alright. Look, I’ll have to take an official statement, but that can wait until tomorrow. Why don’t you-”

Before Hopper could finish his sentence, your attention was pulled away by the door opening, the familiar bell above it ringing like it always did. Two paramedics rolled out the stretcher, a large white sheet stretched across a white, zipped bag. A body bag.

Feeling your stomach lurch half-way up your throat whilst your heart dropped the other way, you couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath, body all but toppling off the wall and thankfully into the arms of Hopper.

Sure, he’d seen a lot of shit during his time in New York, but they had all been strangers and that seemed much easier to disassociate from and get the job done. But Benny… Well, they went way back. They were friends.

Despite Hop’s insistence to not look, you couldn’t help but turn your head, watching as they loaded the stretcher into the ambulance and carted off toward the morgue.

The last suicide in Hawkins had been in October of 1961, and despite not even being born then, you knew all too well about it. It had been your Grandmother, after all.

Crazy old Colette, the town had so lovingly referred to her as. Lost her husband in the war as well as her mind and never got either back. And, of course, instead of helping, the town simply ignored and gossiped, watching as she wandered around town at all hours, jittery and talking to herself, shouting that the ‘end was nigh’.

What was strange, however, was your family weren’t particularly religious. Your mother only worshiped the God she found at the bottom of a bottle, and you couldn’t even guess the last time you’d stepped inside the town’s chapel. Sure, Hawkins had it’s fair share of bible bashers — typically the overprotective PTA moms and their husbands who would frequently break their marriage vows whenever they headed out of town — but your family weren’t exactly known for their love of Jesus Christ. Or any other higher being, for that matter.

You had frequently wondered if that was the start of your mother’s downward spiral, the loss of her father and consequently her mother too, her drinking only exacerbated when your father headed out for a pack of Embassy Gold cigarettes one evening and apparently got lost on his way home, ending up in Georgia, or Colorado, or wherever the hell he was now.

Worse than that, however, was the torment that maybe whatever had caused your Grandmother to lose herself was hereditary, trickling down through the generations of your family right to the very bottom.

To you.

[eddiesguitarskills]

When We Were Young

Part 4

Ex Eddie Munson X reader

Other parts : 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

Intro: 5 years have past since you packed up and left behind Hawkins. Well not all of it, as the people you met there are still a huge part of your life. But it's been 5 years since you had set a foot in the small town, 5 years since you left him.And now after all that time you were back.

Warning: angst, language, mentions of suicide, miscarriages, self harm, mental health.Arguments. Mentions of break ups. Female identity reader. Use of y/n

Bold parts are flashbacks

Word count: 3.4 k

A/n: please only read if you are in a good place, I wouldn't want this story to trigger or hurt anyone. I'm so sorry this took so long to write, I hope having some good flashbacks makes up for that.

Not Prove Read

It had been two weeks since you'd been back, with planning for the new school year, catching up with your family, seeing the Harrington's, and occasionally seeing your old friends, you hadn't had a chance to see Eddie. Not that he hadn't been consuming your thoughts, but having people around really helped that. However, your distractions were getting fewer and fewer as time went on. The younger members of your group were going back to school. Lucas went back to Kentucky last week, and Max and Will back to New York to study art two days ago. Mike and Jane went back to California yesterday. The settlement money coming to use for all the younger kids.

Dustin had left it as late as he could as he didn't want to miss a moment with you or his friends. Besides it's not like he had far to travel he went to Indiana Tech which was about an hour away from home. He was offered scholarships to ivy league schools, but he felt too guilty to take them. He worried that if he left the state something would happen and he wouldn't be there to fix it this time.

In his first year he travelled to school, but this year he was staying there. Eddie and Steve had convinced him that he needed to undergo the proper college experience and he was not going to do that in his mom's house. Especially with how anxious she was about everything he did, where he was, the fact that he couldn’t own a car despite having a driving license. Which is why he knew what they were saying was right. He needed a change, but he was also thankfully it was not too far away his anxiety couldn't survive that. He was glad he could come back whenever he needed, which might be sooner rather than later he thought as he still hadn’t spoken to Eddie since that night. He had tried many times but was met with silence. Eddie could be very dramatic so Dustin knew he would cool down eventually he just needed time. But today he had to leave he couldn’t wait for Eddie to talk to him anymore.

You turn the key walking into the Harrington’s house. You would knock but Nancy and Steve told you, this is as much your home as it is their’s so you come anytime you wanted. You did at least try to announce your arrival though as you never wanted to impose on them. Today was different as the pair knew you were coming to watch their three-year-old Rosie, while Nancy was at work and Steve took Dustin to college.

Steve was in the living room on the phone looking worried, tapping his foot rapidly, he looked up at you and slammed the phone back into the receiver. “I was trying to call you”. You look at your watch confused “am I late?” he shakes his head. “No it's just Nancy got in a car accident-”. You felt nerves fill your body, the same expression of worry on your face as his. “Is she okay?”. He nods slightly “they said it's just a slight concussion, and a few cuts but they need to keep her a few hours for observations”. As soon as you heard those words relief started to wash away the anxiety. You were still slightly upset that she was hurt but you were glad it wasn't anything serious. But you knew Steve all too well how he panicked about the people he loved, it was understandable with everything he had been through. “What are you waiting here for? Go. I've got Rosie as long as you need”. He hugs you, then grabs his jacket and keys.

You felt as if you were forgetting something like an annoying scratch you couldn't itch. Scratching away at your brain. Dustin. You almost forgot the reason you came to watch Rosie in the first place. “Should I ring Dustin and let him know?”. Steve opened the front door “no it's fine, I've already rang, Eddie is taking him”. You nod. Hoping he doesn't see you cringe at the mention of your ex’s name.

Beep. Beep. Dustin looked outside the window to see his friend. Well with how Eddie had been avoiding him he wasn't sure what their relationship was. At least now he would get a chance to talk to the headstrong man before he went to college. Eddie showed no sign that he was getting out of the car, which made Dustin worry he would have to move all of the boxes to his van by himself. He didn’t have many as he tried to keep the packing light, since it was a shared dorm room. But they were still heavy boxes, and at least five of them. Plus a suitcase. Maybe this was Eddie’s way of punishing him.

Dustin bent down to get the first box which was full of engineering books, his knees made a clicking sound on the way down. It hurt a bit but he powered through exiting the front door over to Eddie’s car. Only now the man wasn’t in the front seat he was standing by the back of the van with a cigarette in his mouth. He pulled the box from Dustin’s hand and put it in the trunk. Dustin thanked the man but he still said nothing, he just nodded to show he had heard him. Eddie walked over to Dustin’s house and started to retrieve the boxes. Keeping the cigarettes lit and in his mouth. Now and then using his hand to pull it out to tap the ash. It felt like a slap in the face for Dustin who had tried so hard to get Eddie to quit, and maybe that was why Eddie was doing it, another form of punishment. The reality was he smoking because he was stressed, and the slight burn to his throat was enough to ease the thought even for a second.

When all the bags were secured in the back of the van they set off. The tension could be cut with a knife. Eddie didn’t hate Dustin, he was just scared that he was losing him to you as well, which had no real logic behind it. In fact with how Eddie had been ignoring his friend, he was causing the problem himself. Having enough of the awkward tension Dustin decided to be the bigger person, “so how’s the bar?” Eddie nods “good”. Eddie wanted to hit himself why was he being so awkward it’s like recently he couldn’t get rid of his foul mood. Since you had come back a dark cloud had formed over his life.

He still didn’t understand if you could come back now why couldn’t you come back before? Maybe then you both could have fixed things. “We really need to get you a car, can’t have me and Harrington being your chauffeurs forever” he tries to joke but the tone of his voice doesn’t show that. Dustin agrees; thankful to hear Eddie’s voice even if he wasn’t a cheery one. It was better than the silent treatment.

Dustin was going to use this time stuck in a car with Eddie to his advantage. The worse that could happen is he wouldn’t talk to him again, with him going to college it was now or never. “About that night at Steve’s-“ Eddie turns his radio up to ignore the conversation. For years everyone had avoided talking about you, now he would have to get used to hearing your name again. However, nothing could prepare him for the hurt just a name could cause. Dustin lowered the radio “trust me I know you don’t wanna hear about her but the reality is she’s here now. So wouldn’t it be better to be able to vent or ask any questions to someone you trust?”. Dustin was always too smart for his own good, of course, what he was saying was right, not that Eddie wanted to admit that. Dustin had been the only person that had seen him break down about it and he never told anyone. I guess that’s what hurt him the most that night at Harrington’s, Dustin had seen how hurt he was about this, but from the looks of it seemed like he and you were still friends it didn’t make sense.

He banged on Dustin’s door again and again until he got an answer. The young boy answered, still in his pjs as it was three in the morning. He came to the door quickly scared someone had happened with the upside down again. What he didn’t expect to see was Eddie with bloodshot eyes, panicked. Before he had time to ask questions Eddie was speaking. “Do you know where she is?”. Shit, maybe it was the upside-down Dustin thought. “We fought, she couldn’t have just left like that, that’s not what people do. Do they?”. Dustin couldn’t understand fully what was happening but he knew it was about you, he had never seen Eddie looking like this, he looked worse than when he was accused of murder. “Eddie why don’t you come inside, we can figure this out together”. Tears started to pour from Eddie’s eyes so many that he felt like he was choking on them.

“I don’t get it” Eddie mutters under his breath if it wasn’t for the tight conforms of the van Dustin might have not heard it. “Which part?”. Eddie pulls the van to a stop at a red light and looks over at his younger friend “all of it”. There is quietness in the car. Dustin doesn’t know what to say. It wasn’t a question so he isn’t sure how to answer, or even if there was a right answer. There wasn't a book to help him explain all of this or if there was he hadn't found it yet. Eddie was sick of the silence and glad for the green light so he doesn't have to look at Dustin when he speaks. “What happened?” Dustin sighs “I didn’t expect you to come, I was trying to warn-“. Eddie grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. “That’s not what I mean”. Dustin didn’t want to betray your trust but Eddie was his best friend so he was in an awkward situation. “I don’t know.” The man took his eyes off the road for a second to glare at his friend “bullshit”. Even with his eyes back on the road, Dustin was still scared.

He knew he had to tell the truth but even he didn’t know that. He only knew what Steve revealed while drunk one night. “She- ”, Eddie didn’t want to be lied to anymore he needed the truth, maybe it would help the nightmares. “I honestly don’t know much”. Eddie’s nostrils flared, as he sighed. “Please don’t lie to me”. Dustin couldn’t bare to look at his friend so he looked out the window “I’m not, all I know is she had… I don’t know…. A breakdown or something… it was bound to happen to one of us… you know what this place can do to you, so she ran and I don’t exactly blame her. She seems so much better… but whenever you or the upside-down or Hawkins was mentioned I could see this pain behind her eyes. I knew that look well, I’d seen it in the mirror but it seemed worse for her.”

Eddie felt like a knife had been pierced through his chest, you were suffering and he didn’t even notice. Was it after the fight? Before? Had the fight pushed you over the edge? If only you would had talked to him maybe he could have helped. Why did you have to be so difficult? Maybe he was the difficult one. Maybe if he would have talked to you more, you wouldn't have ran. For years he had convinced himself you had abandoned him, you were the bad guy but maybe it was always more complex than that.

It had been a couple of hours since you had heard from Steve, despite him saying it wasn't severe, with the lack of communication you had started to worry. You were also not sure what to tell Rosie, so you tried different ways to distract her. Watching her favourite film, the little mermaid on repeat. Have a tea party, baking and now your least favourite game question time with a 3-year-old. It was at moments like this you could tell who her mother was. She had started with the easy question favourite colour? favourite princess? The best my little pony? Who was your Favourite 3-year-old? Now she had started on the more hard-hitting questions and it's not like you could avoid answering, because she would pester you with ‘why’ until she got a response.

“Do you have a husband?” you shake your head, surprised she could say such a big word and even more surprised by the question. “no, do you think I need one?”. The little girl considered the question “ it would make you happy”. There were a lot of layers to the girl's question and even more with her response. You wanted to tell the girl you didn't need a man to be happy but she was three and obsessed with Disney princesses, you weren't sure she would understand. So you poke her sides to tickle her and tell her “I get to spend time with my favourite person, I'm very happy”. The girl pout and shakes her head. “Not like mommy and daddy”. You smile, not wanting to get into your need to be single with a child. In fact, you didn't want to admit out loud that you were scared to be in a relationship, that deep down you never got over- no you could not think that. “Well that's because mommy and daddy are like prince charming and Cinderella. I'm like the fairy godmother. The fairy godmother is happy to help others and doesn't have a husband”.

The girl crosses her arms, and pouts her lips more. She looked adorable, but she didn't look in the mood to be told that. “No you are a princess, not a fairy godmother” she stated like a fact that you should know. The truth is it had been so long since you felt special that it felt weird for someone to describe you this way. The compliment from a three-year-old meant an awful lot to you, more than you would like to admit.

A week before the events that led to Eddie being accused of murder, you had been feeling super unwell. You weren't sure what was wrong with you, maybe it had something to do with your missed period but you were too scared to find out. You were lying on Eddie's bed not wanting to move. He had assumed you were about to get your period as this is how you would usually act during that time, so he got all of your comfort snacks. You groaned when he turned on the light. “I'm sorry princess, but I brought snacks does that make up for it”. You grumble “it depends on the snack” he hands the bag over to you, which is filled with your favourites, you root through it “I guess you're forgiven”. You spot a red shiny package, you read the writing ‘ring pop’.

Pulling it out you show it to him “you better not be proposing when I feel like death” he shakes his head, “no when I propose I promise it will be the cheesy thing ever, that has ever happened. The more embarrassing for you, the better”. You fake laugh at him, but aren't able to wipe the smile off your face at the thought of your future together. “I guess it's kind of a promise that one day you will be my wife...I like the sound of that, my wife” “ he gets on the bed with you pulling you into his chest. Eddie Munson was truly the sweetest boy around. Maybe having a child would be too bad if you had him holding your hand through it.

You gesture to yourself up and down “you sure you want to make a promise that like that when I look like this?” he nudges your knee teasingly “well you know what they say for better... Or worse”. You playfully hit his arm pretending to be annoyed. “Well, now I'm definitely not sharing my snacks with you.”

You nod choosing to agree with the girl to hopefully move her on to the next question. “Why you not live here before?” oh God maybe the relationship question was better. “Because I lived in England”. The girl looks confused “why?” you smile. How could you decide anything that happened to a small child when it was confusing enough for you to understand? “Because I didn't want my aunt to be alone”. You knew what word was going to come from Rosie's mouth next “why?”

“Because- umm” you had begun to speak out of instinct but you didn't know what to say. “Mummy says you were sad. I missed you. made daddy sad, and me sad”. Don't cry. Whatever you don't cry. You are grown-up, you have to stay strong. Rosie was smart for her age but there was still a world of hurt you wanted to protect her from. You lift her onto your lap hugging her “I'm sorry, sometimes being a grown-up is hard. And we have to be a little mean to be happy”. Before she could say the same phrase you spoke again “because life isn't always far but it can be amazing when it wants to be”. The girl didn't speak again she just pondered the words not completely understanding but wanting to show she was a big enough girl to get it. You could see a frown forming on her face, so you gently rubbed it away. “Don't worry, it's confusing for grown up too”.

The front door opened bringing an end to the conversation you two were having. The girl jumped off your lap running to her parents. She cuddles Nancy’s leg. You follow behind, thankful to see your friend only with a few scratches. You hug her too, quickly and carefully to not get in the way or kick Rosie. “That’s not far you can't look that pretty after a car accident”. She pushes you away. “Ha ha very funny”. You shake your head “I'm not joking” you look down at the little girl “see I told you, your mommy was Cinderella”. Steve straightens his back and pretends to flex his muscles “does that make me prince charming?” he made it too easy sometimes. “No, that makes you the pumpkin”.

Eddie and Dustin had been stuck in the car for an hour and a half, since the unexpected reveal, they hadn't said much. Or at least Eddie hadn't heard much, all he could think about was you. Which wasn't a change as you had been all he thought about since you came back, but these thoughts came with new feelings, guilt, and confusion. They finally pulled to a stop outside the dorms. Dustin was about to get out when Eddie put his hand out to stop him. “What should I do?”. Dustin shrugs “I don't think they are any answer for that, you are two broken people. I'm not sure even one of you can fix that, but maybe being nicer would be a start”.

Eddie nods, “when did you get so smart?”. Dustin smiled, the Eddie he knew and loved was there, even if it was only briefly. “I'm surprised I haven't lost brain cells being friends with you”. The man laughed, he couldn't even pretend to care about the insult. The thing is no matter if they bicker or fight the two were brothers nothing would change that. And only now the realisation was kicking in that Eddie had been so stubborn about feeling betrayed, that he had missed the time he could have spent enjoying his best friend's last weeks in town before he moved. Of course, he wasn't far and they would still talk. But he wonders how many problems he would solve if he should stop being so stubborn, believing he was always right when he never had any of the answers.

Taglist

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@micheledawn1975

[thediktatortot]

Kidfic, Steddilly, Fluff

---

Billy never thought he would be a father in a million years. He thought, 'How could I parent a kid when all the fathering experience I have to go off of is Neil Hargrove', never thinking himself good enough or safe enough to one day be a father.

After Starcourt, healing and a few years of adulthood under his belt however, life didn't give him that option of choosing whether he was going to be a father or not. It made him one.

He hadn't even thought about the consequences at the time, post physical therapy, post uncomfortable hospital beds and the smell of bleach, post tangled hair from laying down for long periods of time. He'd cleaned up with the help of his step sister and some members of 'the party' before fucking off on the first bus he could with the government hush money he had gotten and disappeared for more than three months.

It was cathartic, necessary for Billy's healing and in that time he'd done anything he wanted. Anything meant anything and in that time he'd experimented with whoever he wanted, took whatever he wanted and ate whatever he wanted. It was like three months of unfiltered chaos and at the end, Billy just wanted to go home.

But home was Hawkins Indiana now, so Billy had gotten himself a ticket back and dropped right back into the life he'd fled from just three months ago.

One year, a sexuality crisis, a gender crisis and a few mental break down's later, Billy Hargrove lived in an apartment with two other guys and on his apartment doorstep, a woman he vaguely recognized stood there with a bundle in her arms and a sour look on her face.

"This was your fault." The woman said with tears in her eyes as she thrust the bundle into Billy's arms. "I didn't even want her." She said, young looking and scared. "I- I can't keep her, she's yours, I remembered your name and looked you up and if you try to find me you wont so-."

The woman grit her teeth and adjusted herself, "Her name is Angela," before turning from the stunned Billy and disappeared down the hallway.

Billy was rooted in place, his whole body a pillar of ice and fear as he looked down the hall where there were no longer anyone there. His brain was empty, unable to think as he looked down at the small bundle and slowly made his way back into the apartment.

He was in shock, he knew this, having felt it before a few times in the last year and even though he knew what his body was doing, it didn't make it any easier to control. With the little girl on his lap on his knees and the couch backrest holding his entire world up, Billy unwrapped the blankets and found brown eyes staring up at him.

There was a roll of papers tied tightly together along side the little girl- Angela, that Billy grabbed and unraveled, finding the birth certificate and a medical records with the time and dates of her birth.

February 14 1987, time of birth: 2:18AM.

Roughly nine months after Billy's three month sabbatical and- yea...he'd gotten with a few girls while out in the world, gotten with a few guys too which was the reason for his crises in the first place when he got back home. The two guys he lived with were Steve fucking Harrington and Eddie fucking Munson.

His boyfriends. Oh god they would be coming home soon and here he was with a baby in his fucking lap, HIS baby and there was no doubts about it.

Angela had curly blond hair, tons of it even with how new she was and even though she had the brown eyes from the woman that was her mother, Billy could only see himself in her.

Angela was starting to cry, her face scrunching up as the realization that mom was not coming back for her setting in and Billy felt like his heart was breaking, like the Mindflayer hadn't left and was reaching through his chest to squeeze his heart one last time.

"A-...Angela...." Billy said softly as he reached out and smooth his thumb over the pudgy cheeks of the baby to wipe away the tears as his own fell over his cheeks and onto her blanket. "Angie...I'm...oh god what am I going to do?" Billy's voice broke a little as he set the papers aside and wrapped the little girl back up into the blanket and pulled her into his chest.

"What am I gonna do?"

-----

"Nah-uh"

"Ahuh"

"Nah-uh"

"Ahuh"

"Nah-uh"

"Ah-"

"I swear to all that's good on this green earth if you two don't stop I'm going to put you both in time out." Billy's voice cut through the nonsense as Eddie and Angie looked over guiltily to Billy where he sat at the dining room table, book open and pen almost breaking in his grip.

"...Sorry daddy."

"Yea, sorry daddy." Eddie stuck his tongue out from where he was sitting on the couch with Angie, the two of them having their heads buried in a nature book all day while they waited for Steve to come home from work.

That was their life now.

Eddie worked at a local auto body shop and still did gigs with his band, Steve had become store manager at Malvad's and Billy was going back to school and staying home with Angie.

"I've got sandwiches!" Steve's voice called from the hallway of their small home.

The four had moved out of their original apartment only a few months after Angie's arrival, quickly discovering that a two bedroom bachelor pad with little to no heat in the winter and mold in the corners of the house wasn't going to be the most safest place to raise a baby. They hadn't even thought of buying a home before she came, none of them having experience in adulthood or any idea how to actually go about doing those adult things, but with the help of Jim and Joyce, they'd figured it out.

"Papa!!" Angie screamed in Eddie's ear as she scrambled off the couch and ran out of the living room, leaving Eddie rubbing his head.

"The pipes on that girl- need to get her into choir when she starts going to school."

"I thought you didn't like putting kids into extra curricular activities against their will." Billy said from where he sat, still buried in his text book as he took notes.

"Yea- sports. Choir is like...totally different. Besides, if she doesn't like it she can always do something else."

Steve walked in from the hallway with a bag on one arm and Angie on the other, smiling as the two of them whispered to each other while he made his way into the kitchen.

"Stop whatever it is you all are doing and come get your dinner. That means you Billy." Steve's voice filtered through the kitchen doorway soon followed by Angie's giggling. "Yea Daddy, Papa mean's you!."

Billy sat back against his chair and dropped his pencil on his notebook with a sigh, glaring daggers at Eddie chuckling. "Yea daddy, he means you." Eddie stuck his tongue out at Billy before darting off into the kitchen to get his share of sandwich.

"You guys are so mean to me." Billy sighed, his tone light as he let his head hang back and stare up at the dining room ceiling, letting out a long breath with a small smile.

[susansluvpage]

How many children did David Jones really have ? I know he had four daughters via marriage but, now I have heard he had an illegitimate sons and maybe another daughter too! There’s a story about a boy who hung around David, that looked just like him. Would have been born early 80s. There is also a girl in Boston claiming to be his daughter.So wondering how many children he really had? Also a story about him having a son in 1987 named Sean mother lived in Indiana . Sorry to burst everyone’s bubble but David liked the ladies a lot. Including when he was married. Oh! I get in trouble on social media when I tell the truth. Some of his fans want him to be a saint, he wasn’t. People that knew him well knew about his womanising and his behavior when he got drunk. David was a fantastic special man, extremely talented and very intelligent, masculine and loving. but he had problems in his personal life. Many stories have come out about his affairs when he was married since his death. He complained himself that his romantic relationships were not good later in his life. He also had a drinking problem. There are many printed stories about his drinking problems. Micky even wrote about it in his book. I truly cared about him and wish life had been better for him. Found articles now that admitted he was separated from his third wife for about two months and heading for another divorce right before his death. He even said in a December 2011 interview that his marriage was tumultuous. He was not happy then.His wife admitted she was abusing him mentally and physically. Annabel talked about it in her podcasts. She also talked about his drinking problem. Breaks my heart to know he went through that, he didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Yes, David is my inspiration for the Rockstar Romances I write. They are mostly fiction and fantasy books. Adults only. Getting ready to publish my third book soon. Have two on Amazon already. Sorry to those people that don’t want to know the truth about David. Wish someone who knew him well would write a true story about his life. David really never talked about his sex life or drinking problems in his books, didn’t even mention his arrest for DUI. Or the car accidents he had. Thank goodness he was not hurt in those accidents. I know he suffered through many other serious injuries and surgeries in his life. He was active so he had accidents, His jaw, broken bones, back issues. His third wife even cracked his ribs with a shoe. It’s all so heartbreaking to know he suffered and was in pain. I really wish I had been there more for him. I hadn’t seen him for the last ten or so years of his life, my own life had so many ups and downs back then. Probably a good thing I didn’t see David when his wife was abusing him. Think I would have done what his own daughter Annabel wanted to do. As a police officer I seen so much domestic abuse, surprisingly many men were abused but would be reluctant to admit it. Guess had to do with a masculine macho thing to admit they were being abused by a woman. Oh well, have to get over this subject. Can’t stand people hurting each other or themselves. But it hurts to know someone who you cared about was going through it. I know David was know angel himself but he didn’t deserve it. I knew his relationship with his wives and girlfriends kept breaking up, usually they broke up with him. Was his drinking the cause? Unfaithfulness? I know Anita had an interview about her divorce but I can’t find the article that people told me about. I can only go by what Annabel’s podcast said and other sources. All I know is I do miss him and cared about him. Can never forget the time we spent alone together, it was along time ago. I wish I had told him about my darn emotional empathy before. I knew him better than he thought I did. But we were friends over the years. Really don’t know if anyone is even interested in my writing about this. David may have been only 5’3” but he was very masculine and not small all over. Wish there was a way we could save are memories besides photos. Love to all!

[spaceorphan18]

I'm just thinking out loud about things, please don't mind me.

I have a tendency to only blog about my life when it's going badly, and I mean it makes sense - in that sometimes you want to have a space to kind of think out loud and let it out. I'm sure most sane people journal or talk to a bff. I vent to an audience of strangers on the internet. Because I'm weird like that.

But, here's the thing, I'm not doing badly this time! Really, this is the sanest I've felt in a long time, and it's probably due to the fact that I've actually let myself rest (and got one part of my living space picked up). But I do have a lot of things on my mind, so this is me just kind of word vomiting about things kind of as an update as to where my life is at.

On Health: I think the tricky thing this year has been more my physical health than the mental. I'm mentally in a much better place than I was a year ago, and that's great. Now I have to get the physical side back in shape. I've had to run through different kinds of medication lately, and I think things might be straightened out? Also, I was sick most of last week, which didn't help. But I feel decent now - and I'm really hoping it'll stay that way, because I'm just so tired of not feeling well.

On Work: Work as been a lot. We fired the woman who was giving us problems - for anyone who wondered how that whole thing turned out. There's a lot of change happening, and some drama - which I've been grateful I have not been a part of. It's a lot. It's always a lot a lot a lot, but it's not Indiana. As hard and stressful as things can get here... it's not Indiana.

On Glee Things: Now that I'm kind of in a better mental space about it -- I think it'll be best if I just take a step back from any kind of community related thing. I think the thing I keep coming back to me is that Glee is just a part of me now. It's been with me for so long that it's very personal and between the weird up rising of fans who really are only seeing things in Black and White and the obtuse-ness of K and J's podcast sometimes I just can't with it anymore.

The tournament is going to play out quickly and then I'm done with that. Yes, I'm still writing. Yes, I'll still say my thoughts about the things Darren said. No, I'm never really going to go anywhere.

But I don't really want to be a part of the large fandom anymore.

That said -- I think what else has been bothering me is the fact that I miss so many people. The community that I was a part of just doesn't seem to be there anymore. And, I mean, I get it -- lots of people move on. Lots of people are busy. And there are a few of you that have been around and aren't going anywhere, either, and I do see you! But sometimes I wonder if I've come full circle in that I'm talking into an empty void again.

On X-Men things: Meanwhile, guys. I have a lot of thoughts. Marvel has always had a yo-yo effect on me, and I just have gone down the rabbit hole again. It's making me happy, and breaking my heart in the best possible way, and still making me happy. I apologize up front, because there are going to be a lot of X-Men things coming. (As usual, i'll tag it all)

On Reading: Idk, I just want to read more. I have a huge pile of things to read. And I just want to be more consistent about it.

On taking a freakin' break: My vacation is two weeks away. I'm going to take the pressure off myself and just let myself have a break, because I think that's what I really need.

Thankfully, it's spring, and this is my absolute favorite time of year as it gets warmer out.

Don't be a stranger, guys, I do love talking to all of you.

(And eventually, i'll get that queue going again.)

<3 <3

[ominouspositivity-or-else]

help me with a writing thing rq

This character and my dad would have the same name unless i change it.

Now, I love my dad. My dad is an awesome guy. Also, primarily untraumatized. He had a solid childhood, good parents, and is generally pleasant, upbeat, and genuine. He doesn't care what people think and he's happy to sit and talk with you for hours about one of his hyperfixations. I love my dad.

This fictional character I'm writing, however, is really nothing at all like him.

He's 25 or so, shoulder length blonde hair, blue eyes, and Saint Joan of Arc has been appearing to him near constantly, trying to convince him to forgive those who have deeply, deeply wronged him. He, however, doesn't know that these are real visions, and instead thinks it's a continuation of his pretty serious psychosis. On the plus side, he goes to a mental hospital. On the downside, he continues to struggle for quite some time. He grew up Catholic, and had pretty strange parents. He grew up in Rural Indiana, so we're talking weird midwest, too, and went to an all-boys Catholic school, and has so much trauma that the story is a lot of time splits from past to present breaking down why exactly this character is the way he is. He's being called to forgive and resisting because he's hurt so bad and he doesn't think he can do it.

This is a far cry from my really great dad who is nothing like this character at all, even slightly.

However... the name's been the only one I can find with the exact right feeling to it. Nothing else fits right. I could keep looking, and I will, but is this even a real problem?

if you have any thoughts on good options, PLEASE send me name reccs, i am LITERALLY BEGGING THE TUMBLR VOID

[final-girl96]

Stolen Hearts

Eddie Munson x Reader

NO UPSIDE DOWN!

THIS WILL NOT HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH THE SHOW!

Disclaimer: I DON'T NOT own Eddie Munson or any of the other Stranger Things characters.

Q- When will it be posted?

A- I have no clue. I'm just pitching an idea I have. I haven't even written anything for it. It will be on my wattpad and Ao3 when I do decide to start writing it.

Ideas So Far:

Starts in 1984 senior year of high school

Eddie gets discovered in 1986 at the hideout

YN Hexley is the quiet girl, smart, doesn't have friends, her dad is a rock star, but nobody knows that. Moved from L.A. California to Hawkins Indiana 1980 her freshman year, was homeschooled up until then

Eddie is kind of mean, popular with the girls but they won't admit it because he's "the freak" of Hawkins. Will be out of character

Eddie is a little OOC he can be cruel, self-centered at times, a player never sticking with one girl

Jax Hexley - lead singer, front man of Blood Red Viper, YN dad, from Hawkins originally, had yn at eighteen shortly after being discovered at The Hideout.

Description:

Eddie Munson was only a few credits away from graduating. The problem, though, was that he was horrible at math. In order for him to pass, he needs a tutor so he can graduate and get the hell out of Hakins, Indiana.

Yn Hexley is the perfect person to help, according to her teacher. She's smart and has straight A's. And seeing as she didn't have much going on in her life...she agreed to help Eddie.

She knows who Eddie is, everyone knows who he is. Yn on the other hand; she was invisible. Nobody knew who she was. She moved from L.A. California to Hawkins, Indiana, the place her father grew up. She's been homeschooled her whole life, with being on tour and what not with her father Jax Hexley, lead singer of the rock band Blood Red Vipers.

But he wanted her to have a normal high school experience and make friends her own age. And what better way to do that than to enroll her in his old High School, Hawkins High. He and the band wanted to take a break from touring for a little while as well, write new music for a new album, so it was perfect.

Until she falls for the boy she tutors, Eddie Munson, the leading man of Corroded Coffin. How could she not be attracted to a musician when that's the world she grew up in. Music is her life, and Eddie Munson was the definition of music. Maybe she should have listened to everyone when they told her he would break her heart.

Warnings:

☆ Strong Language

☆ Drugs & Alcohol (Rockstar Life)

☆ Adult Themes

☆ Virginity Loss

☆ Spanking

☆ Choking

☆ Edging

☆ Rough Sex

☆ Unprotected Sex (she'll get on BC later)

☆ Small Amount of BDSM

☆ Oral (both)

☆ Dub-Con

☆ Public Sex

☆ Degrading (slut & whore mostly)

☆ Cock Warming

☆ Hair Pulling

☆ Breeding Kink

☆ Daddy Kink

☆ Dom Eddie

☆ Mead Eddie

☆ Eddie is OOC

☆ Angst

☆ Fluff (much later)

☆ Possessive (he doesn't want to be tied down but also doesn't want her to be with anyone else)

☆ Manipulation

☆ Slight Abuse (verbal & mental)

☆ Cheating?

[heavencasteel420]

Jancy-Byler Con Artist/Medium AU Idea

Jonathan, Will, and El are siblings in the 1920s-1930s who travel across middle America doing a mentalist/medium act, along with other scams when needed.

Jonathan is probably just observant and smart, but Will and El have undeniably supernatural powers. Will is a medium and El is telekinetic.

Jonathan is in his early twenties; Will and El are in their late teens.

Jonathan and Will are siblings by blood. Joyce was committed to an insane asylum when they were sixteen and twelve, more so due to Lonnie's maneuverings and her own misunderstood psychic powers than any legit mental health issue she may have had. Jonathan and Will either ran away or were forced to go on the road due to Lonnie's subsequent abandonment. They've been trying to find their mother, but haven't been able to track her down at any hospital.

Shortly after they ran away, Will was separated from Jonathan and forced into a grim orphanage/hospital that was a front for exploiting psychic kids (an equivalent to the lab). This is where he met El. They managed to bust out with Jonathan's help, and El became as much their sibling as they were to each other, but they were all traumatized by the experience.

They all have varying feelings about their way of life. Jonathan feels kind of ashamed of it (Lonnie also ran scams) and really wants the younger kids to be in school, but he doesn't know what else to do with himself. Will doesn't mind the actual work, but hates the instability and wants nothing more than to be rich (and therefore secure). El is delighted with any new experience after her institutional childhood, but she longs for more "normal" things sometimes.

A confluence of factors--a lead about Joyce, threats from the "orphanage," a simple need for money--make it clear that the place to be is a big society wedding in small-town Indiana: between Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler.

I'm murky on the details of the scheme, but I think it revolves around convincing the denizens of Hawkins that the town is extremely haunted and that there is somehow money to be made off of this.

Jonathan poses as a photographer from a newspaper, while Will and El blend into the the considerable staff specifically hired for the wedding.

Jonathan gets to know Nancy and picks up on the fact that she's not happy with the life her family has picked out for her. She's educated and ambitious, and she's frustrated that she's supposed to channel everything into being a proper society wife. Steve, while more sanguine about the marriage, is also starting to feel uneasy with the extent to which his parents have stage-managed his life.

Mike, Nancy's college-bound younger brother, has a brief romance with El; feeling stifled himself, he's charmed by her fresh perspective and enthusiasm, and she enjoys her brush with his more privileged world. However, it turns out that it's really Will he connects with the most, and that El wants to move on to other things.

Robin is a glamorously zany lesbian who's close friends with both Steve and Nancy. She's constantly hinting that they should break up. She's also way into the ghost shit.

Both love triangles are resolved with a little bit of angst along the way--not much--and all's well that ends well.

[littleoldme-posts]

COVID started the spring of my freshman year of high school. It gave me a reason to retreat in on myself and isolate myself from friends and the outside world. I struggled through continuous downs throughout the next 3 years, my grades and mental health suffered immensely and I got so close to dropping out and ending things so many times.

This past year, in particular has been extremely difficult because it was my senior year. I had to catch up and was forced to accept the possibility that I may not graduate.

But I did, at a price. I missed out of everything. I got no formative high school experiences. No homecoming games or dances, no parties, no prom. I didn’t get my high school romance or high school heart break. I didn’t even get to walk at graduation, I’m still waiting on my diploma in the mail.

Throughout all of this, Taylor Swift has been the BIGGEST comfort and constant in my life. I’ve never been one to be a “diehard” fan for artists, but for Taylor I am.

It’s probably because I feel so seen and similar to her. I’m a shy, cat obsessed freak who’s had massive struggles with anxiety and a constant need to please people.

My biggest dream is to see her live. I’ve grown up listening to her throughout her eras but have never had the chance to see her (and remember it) because my family low-income, but my family (esp. my dad) feel like I deserve this.

SO, if anyone is selling at least 2 Indianapolis, Indiana (11.2.2024 or 11.3.2024) tickets PLEASE message me because I am SO unbelievably desperate and interested in buying them!