#k1ngdingus

[ch1efhops]

he hates the way he knows he's blushing. can feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck & across flushed cheeks as @k1ngdingus speaks up from behind him. he watches joyce go before he clears his throat & adjusts the weapon on his shoulder before he turns around expecting to meet the smug face of one steve harrington. he's not sure what kind of expression the younger man is wearing, too many things are trying to make themselves known ( smugness, elation perhaps, & a lot of something that looked a lot like it's about damn time ) & with arms folded across his chest, you'd think their roles were reversed & hopper was a teen who'd just been caught by a parent when the dropping you off at home goodnight kiss extended past the porch light's flashing warning.  ❛ guess i don't need your help anymore, huh ? ❜ he hadn't searched it out in years now ... not since he'd taken in el & not since steve was no longer a regular in the back of his blazer. still, he can't help but toss the jest out ━ the callback to lives neither one of them lived any longer. he likes to think they've both come a long way from who they were & while it might still be hard to look at his own reflection & see something he's proud of, he can honestly say when he sees that harrington kid, he sees someone he's proud of.

 ❛ but don't go asking me any of them weird questions like you used to got it ? ❜ his face turns into something serious but there's still something teasing playing across his features.  ❛ i didn't answer 'em then & i'm not answering 'em now. this one's ... different & if we get out of this, i'm hoping it's forever. ❜

prompt : so… that's new.

[embodies]

' hey, aren't you supposed to be running interference for me? '   ↪ @k1ngdingus : malia.

❛ aren't you supposed to shut up and look pretty ? ❜ it could hardly be considered a quip, for her eyes are steeled and her teeth gritted as the words hiss out of them. he'd be naive to take the compliment. and maybe he is. her first and most intuitive thought is to roll her eyes and huff. men. but she corrects herself from that oh, so lydia - like train of thought and amends. humans. for they are all so prone to impatience, so quick to jump the gun and even quicker to fire it. ❛ a little trust never hurt anybody. let me do my job. ❜ she raises her brows then, as if expecting a retort in protest. and maybe he will.

[misspr1ss]

rising from the dead for @k1ngdingus @b1gerror and @ch1efhops only

[badgeworn-arc]

WHAT’S   ON   JIM   HOPPER’S   IPHONE     ?       ↳       ft.   STEVE  HARRINGTON                              @k1ngdingus       temp.

[enternecers]

❤️ + k1ngdingus!

oh my god, one of my faves asking me to talk about one of my faves! genuinely, what can i say about kristen that she doesn’t know already? i absolutely adore her portrayal of steve, but again, i love her portrayal of every single muse she writes. we met in her ace blog and i have been following everywhere and anywhere since and i am so, so glad i have. kristen is kind and funny and caring and one of the most talented and wonderful people i have met on indie. i am thankful to be able to call her my friend and my writing partner, even if she is constantly breaking my heart with gifsets and random headcanons for sta/ncy (though i return the favor all the time!) but genuinely kris deserves the world and i’d give it to her if i could, but i can only give her links to sta/ncy fics, na/ce bts pictures and my love (which she has)

send me a heart emoji + url for positivity / @k1ngdingus.

[revolveir]

❝  look,  i dunno if i’m the kind of person you need or even want right now.  but i’m looking around and i’m the only one who’s here.  ❞      -      @k1ngdingus​

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆      -      accepting !  

𝐒𝐇𝐄 looks up at steve before glancing around at the empty scoops ahoy. looking back down at the nearly empty cup in front of her, she lets out a breath before looking up at him again. ❝ you might as well sit, it’s going to be a long story and a lot of complaining. ❞ she lets out a soft, humorless chuckle, leaning back in her seat.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 shakes her head, ❝ they fired us, but i KNOW i’m right. ❞ she chews thoughtfully on her lip for a moment, looking at steve. ❝ i know that everyone else gets to live normal lives, that they don’t know to be wary of the strange stories because to them they’re just strange stories, but i know better. we know better. am i crazy? looking for monsters that aren’t there? ❞

[fyrbol]

@k1ngdingus​ / uoʇƃuᴉɹɹɐɥ ǝʌǝʇs.

❛   I DIDN’T TAKE   ‘   KING STEVE     ‘   FOR THE TYPE   to shoot hoops all by himself.   ❜   there is mirth in the observation but a softened legitimacy that is inescapable. these quiet hours of dusk were so often his solace, a time for nothing but the thrum of his heart and the smack of rubber   (   flesh - to - floor - to - flesh   )   to ground his thoughts. to channel all his worries and woes into that kinetic motion, to aim with keen eye and keener mind, and throw those anxieties away.   scoring is just a bonus.   steve harrington was a person of many surprises   :   these last few years had taught lucas to assume nothing and trust nobody.   masks were running rampant in hawkins,   for better and for worse.   ❛   the day crowd just not your thing   ?   ❜   nobody said lucas didn’t have a guise of his own for this unwritten masquerade ball.

[b1gerror]

⠀⠀  𝐀  STUDY  ⠀⠀  𝑖𝑛 ⠀⠀  R.  𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘 ⠀⠀ &  S.  𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐓𝐎𝐍   ( @k1ngdingus )  ⠀⠀      𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 ᵂᴵᵀᴴ ᴬ 𝑐𝑎𝑝𝑖𝑡𝑎𝑙 𝑃.

[filmdeve10ped]

*shoving people out of the way to get into your inbox* listen up, you are actually jonathan byers, i am in awe of everything that you put out, & there's a reason that you're the only jon blog i follow. you capture what the duffer brothers couldn't even imagine accomplishing. he's yours, & you've added so much layer to him & complexity & growth that i cannot get over how incredible your characterization of him is. i'm really super grateful that i get to see you on the dash & that i get to write with you & explore this dynamic & what it could have & should have been. also you're so lovely & like so fun to talk to & i just *clutches fists* adore you

i essentially already cried over this in your dms already, but kristen i adore you so much!! you bring me so much joy on the dash, and getting to write and plot with you brings me so much joy. you make me so 🥺🥰

[misspr1ss]

@k1ngdingus : breathe  -  sender  helps  receiver  get  through  a  panic  attack  .

when  had  girlhood  turned  gun  -  wielding  ?    for  months  .  .  .  years  now  ,  nancy  had  swallowed  down  the  idea  that  nothing  would  ever  be  quiet  again  ,  forcing  routine  normalcy  in  internships  ,  summer  romance  and  college  plans  .  she  placated  a  racing  mind  with  pleasantries  and  planning  -  early  acceptance  to  emerson  ,  busying  herself  with  the  school  paper  -  whatever  kept  that  familiar  feeling  of  gut  -  wrenching  guilt  from  creeping  into  the  back  of  her  throat  to  swell  it  up  until  she  couldn’t  breathe  .  whatever  keeps  the  nightmares  at  bay  .  and  losing  this  girlhood  ,  the  innocence  of  high  school  and  prom  planning  ,  it  was  an  accepted  fate  .  but  it  hits  differently  watching  max  succumb  to  the  same  path  ,  in  the  face  of  something  far  worse  ,  and  as  she  sits  in  preparation  for  the  loss  of  innocence  as  a  result  of  whatever  war  they  would  be  starting  that  night  the  weight  of  it  all  seemed  to  grow  a  thousand  times  heavier  than  it  had  ever  felt  before  .  her  shoulders  were  only  so  strong  .  

with  quiet  encouragement  nancy  excuses  herself  away  from  max  and  silently  past  the  duo  crafting  bombs  trailer  -  side  ,  she’s  careful  not  to  let  the  rickety  door  slam  shut  behind  her  .  suffering  in  silence  was  all  she  had  known  ,  what  she  preferred  -  the  less  attention  the  best  but  body  language  tells  all  their  is  to  know  .  stiff  arms  wrapped  tightly  around  her  own  frame  ,  shoulders  and  chest  rigid  as  her  breath  is  held  until  the  moment  the  accordion  door  to  the  world’s  smallest  bathroom  is  slammed  closed  .  the  claustrophobic  tightness  only  restricts  her  airways  further  ,  squeezing  a  sputtering  breath  from  her  lungs  as  it  settles  deep  into  the  marrow  of  her  bones  -  this  time  was  different  .  the  start  of  something  bigger  than  they  had  ever  been  faced  with  before  .  the  beginning  of  the  end  of  the  world  .  chest  heaves  to  gulp  down  air  that  didn’t  seem  to  make  it  to  her  lungs  ,  the  sting  of  tears  swiped  quickly  ,  harshly  from  cheekbones  before  fingers  fall  to  grip  the  sides  of  an  ugly  cream  colored  porcelain  sink  until  knuckles  are  white  .  

the  knock  that  rattled  the  plastic  door  nearly  sent  nancy  jumping  out  of  her  skin  ,  but  steve’s  voice  never  fell  on  ears  with  bitterness  -  even  now  as  he  asks  if  she’s  alright  theres  a  caring  calmness  to  his  tone  that  she  used  to  look  forward  to  be  wrapped  up  in  at  the  end  of  a  long  day  .  it’s  enough  to  make  uneven  breaths  hitch  in  her  throat  ,  nancy  willing  -  no  ,  forcing  herself  to  utter  an  answer  that  promised  she  was  just  as  collected  .  “  yeah  ,  give  me  just  a  sec  .  .  .  ”    to  gather  her  dignity  and  lift  her  chin  up  and  waltz  back  out  to  whatever  group  of  misfits  she  had  found  herself  among  as  the  fearless  leader  she  was  .  but  her  voice  leaves  nothing  to  the  imagination  as  it  shakes  ,  and  steve  harrington  isn’t  one  to  let  things  go  ignored  .  nimble  fingers  move  to  grip  the  door  handle  as  quickly  as  he  rattles  it  again  and  as  it’s  effortlessly  pulled  open  nancy  takes  the  single  step  she’s  allotted  backward  ,  distance  created  as  though  it’d  conceal  the  trembling  in  her  hands  .  “  i  said  just  a  second  .  .  .  ”  it’s  pathetic  now  ,  the  charade  she  stands  by  even  as  she  refuses  eye  contact  .  even  as  jaw  tensely  twitches  .  “  i  just  need  a  minute  ,  okay  ?  "  it’s  permission  that  she  asks  for  now,  tone  once  quick  ,  harsh  even  ,  now  melting  into  something  muddled  with  sadness  and  worry  .  nostrils  flare  to  harshly  steal  the  air  from  the  space  between  them  ,  her  lungs  needed  it  more  than  his  ,  and  finally  wet  doe  eyes  are  lifted  to  his  big  brown  hues  -  she  never  could  resist  the  way  they  warmed  her  inside  .  “  i  just  need  a  minute  .  .  .  ”

[badgeworn-arc]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎  𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐔𝐌𝐒  𝐎𝐅  𝐉𝐈𝐌  𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐑   :         ↳     ft.    @k1ngdingus        ,     tagged  may  rb.  

[enternecers]

@k1ngdingus​ said:  a first kiss ( post season 4 )

      nancy  wheeler  had  always  had  one  big  dream:  getting  out  of  hawkins.  it  did  not  quite  matter  where  she  ended  up,  as  long  as  it  was  away  from  her  hometown.  at  first,  she  would  dream  about  castles  and  princes  and  white  horses,  young  child  that  she  was.  then  she  started  reading  books  and  magazines  about  new  york  city  and  boston  and  chicago  and  big  cities  full  of  people  and  information  and  places  to  visit.  it  was  when  she  found  emerson  college.  it  felt  right,  like  the  perfect  match.  it  was  far  away  from  hawkins  that  she  would  be  independent  but  not  so  far  that  she  would  not  be  able  to  visit  on  the  holidays.  then  the  acceptance  letter  came  and  she  visited  campus  with  her  mother  and  everything  was  right.  until  nothing  was  right  again.  

       grief  was  nothing  new  to  her,  she  had  been  living  with  it  for  years  now.  grief,  fear,  paranoia,  anxiety,  guilt.  the  feelings  never  really  went  away,  no  matter  how  hard  she  tried  to  pretend  they  did.  but  nothing  compared  to  that  spring  break.  the  way  eddie  died,  max  practically  did  too.  the  way  she  had  almost  died  and  had  almost  gotten  her  friends  killed  in  the  process.  the  way  the  earth  opened  and  the  skies  turned  red  with  the  blood  of  innocent  people  who  were  paying  for  their  mistakes.  they  had  failed,  she  had  failed,  and  hawkins  was  paying  the  price.  funny  how  much  she  cared  for  a  town  she  had  always  dreamed  of  leaving  /  but  it  did  not  mean  nancy  wanted  it  destroyed  either.  weeks  passed  by  after  their  return  to  chaos.  weeks  filled  with  investigating,  planning,  volunteering  to  help  those  in  need,  watching  over  her  friends  and  family,  trying  to  find  a  new  normal.  chaos  was  their  new  normal.  with  time,  things  got  less  complicated.  not  easy,  no,  never  easy.  but  they  were  okay.  

       before  nancy  realized  it,  summer  had  come  and  it  was  almost  time  to  leave.  she  had  told  no  one,  but  the  idea  of  going  to  emerson  terrified  her.  what  if  they  needed  her  while  she  was  gone?  what  if  something  happened  while  she  was  away  in  college  living  her  dream?  except  vecna’s  voice  still  resonated  in  the  back  of  her  mind.  this  was  her  fault.  she  had  been  the  reason  barb,  she  had  been  the  reason  they  had  gone  back  to  the  upside  down,  she  had  been  the  reason  they  had  failed  /  would  she  truly  be  missed  if  she  was  gone?  those  thoughts  occupied  her  mind  most  of  the  time,  just  about  95%  of  it.  the  other  5%?  well,  that  was  when  it  got  cliche,  really.

        six  nuggets,  a  trailer  and  summers  traveling  around  the  country.  they  had  not  talked  about  it  yet.  heck,  they  had  talked  about  everything  except  that.  nancy  had  tried  to  bring  it  up,  but  something  always  got  in  the  way.  she  was  suspicious  he  had  tried  to,  but  life  had  been  too  chaotic  for  that  conversation.  as  time  went  by,  it  got  harder.  she  was  leaving,  he  was  staying.  she  needed  to  leave,  he  needed  to  stay.  nancy  would  never  ask  him  to  wait,  steve  would  never  ask  her  to  stay.  it  was...  poetically  painful.  or  perhaps  it  was  painfully  poetic.  plus,  it  just  seemed  easier  to  enjoy  what  little  time  they  had  left.  listen  as  robin  talked  nonstop  about  vickie,  take  care  of  dustin,  make  sure  everyone  was  okay,  go  to  the  movies  to  watch  top  gun,  sometimes  even  listen  to  music  and  dance  around  hopper’s  cabin  as  though  the  world  had  not  practically  ended.  

         good  memories.  that  was  what  nancy  wanted  to  take  with  her  to  emerson.  good  memories  with  steve,  robin,  jonathan,  mike,  dustin,  lucas,  will,  el.  they  needed  good  memories  to  make  up  for  some  of  the  pain.  talking  to  steve  about  things  just  might  make  things  awkward  and  nancy  did  not  want  to  ruin  anything  else.  but  fate  seemed  to  have  other  plans.  as  she  was  packing  to  leave,  the  brunette  came  across  her  box  full  of  pictures  and  memories  from  when  they  were  dating.  the  two  of  them  had  never  had  a  proper  breakup.  it’s  okay,  nance.  she  felt  too  guilty  to  say  anything  else  to  him  after  that  and  she  kept  everything.  even  the  sweatshirt  from  the  night  barb  went  missing.  funny  enough,  it  still  smelled  like  steve.  

        hours  went  by,  and  nancy  was  still  going  over  the  contents  of  the  box.  it  was  almost  time  for  them  all  to  head  to  the  shelter  when  steve  walked  into  her  bedroom.  he  did  that  now,  they  were  friends  (  as  much  as  the  mere  word  made  her  wince  because  they  could  never  be  just  friends.  )  startled,  the  brunette  dropped  the  box:  pictures  of  them  spread  around  the  floor,  alongside  every  note  he  had  ever  written  her.  ❝  steve,  i  can  explain,  ❞  she  whispered  quietly,  blue  hues  on  his  figure.  he  chuckled  nervously  and  kneeled  down  to  help  her  cleanup.  right  away  she  did  the  same,  porcelain  cheeks  burning  bright  red.  it’s  okay,  nance.  dear  lord,  how  she  had  come  to  hate  it  when  he  said  that.  

       standing  up,  the  brunette  cleared  her  throat.  ❝  we  should  talk  about  what  you  said  back...  before...  you  know.  in  the  upside  down?  we  should  talk  about  it  before  i  leave,  ❞  she  told  him,  walking  towards  the  door  and  closing  it  so  no  one  would  interrupt  them  this  time.  ❝  i  know  i  should  have  said  something  before  but  things  were  busy  and  complicated  and...  now  i  am  leaving  and...  steve,  please,  just  let  me  say  this.  please?  ❞  blue  hues  sought  his,  noticing  when  he  was  about  to  interrupt  her  right  before  he  nodded  and  pressed  his  lips  together  again.  ❝  when  you  said  you  thought  we’d  work  if  we  met  for  the  first  time  right  now,  i  think  you’re  wrong.  you  said  you  needed  to  grow  up  and  you  have,  but  that  wouldn’t  have  happened  if  we  hadn’t  broken  up.  and  we  wouldn’t  have  known  what  it’s  like  to  lose  each  other  so  we  wouldn’t  know  how  much  this  time  around  matters.  ❞ 

      she  swallowed  dryly,  taking  a  step  closer  to  him.  dark  blue  hues  studied  every  inch  of  his  face  and  god,  her  heart  tightened.  ❝  but  i  am  leaving,  steve.  and  i  need  to  go.  because  this  place  is  a  reminder  of  everything  i  lost,  it’s  a  reminder  of  barb  and  eddie  and  max  and  i  know  you  don’t  think  it’s  my  fault  but  it  feels  like  it  is.  so  i  can’t  stay  here  anymore.  i  have  to  go.  but  i  hate  that  i  am  leaving  you.  because  i  don’t  wanna  lose  you  again  and  i  don’t  wanna  hurt  you  again.  and  i  have  been  thinking  about  this  all  summer  and  i  know  i  have  flirted  and  it’s  probably  been  unfair  to  you  but...  ❞  there  was  so  much  more  she  wanted  to  say.  she  was  a  writer,  words  never  failed  her.  except  when  it  came  to  him,  it  seemed.  

       instead,  she  allowed  her  hands  to  cradle  his  face  as  she  closed  the  distance  between  them.  ❝  steve,  ❞  nancy  mumbled  under  her  breath,  blue  hues  drifting  from  his  eyes  to  his  lips  as  they  had  so  many  times  before.  it  was  a  question,  it  was  a  plea.  and  when  steve  did  not  pull  away?  she  pressed  her  lips  to  his  in  a  kiss.  gentle  at  first,  tentative,  wondering  if  he  would  kiss  her  back.  and  then  the  brunette  grew  more  confident,  a  hand  burying  in  his  hair  as  she  deepened  the  kiss.  nancy  wheeler  was  not  a  religious  person,  but  she  found  herself  praying  that  he  would  understand  what  she  could  not  say.  

     it  felt  as  though  the  world  had  stopped,  but  eventually  she  pulled  away.  it  took  her  a  moment  to  open  her  eyes,  looking  at  him  instantly  to  try  and  figure  out  what  he  was  thinking.  then,  in  true  nancy  wheeler  fashion,  she  panicked.  ❝  i  shouldn’t  have  done  that.  ❞  not  that  she  did  not  want  to,  but  she  did  not  want  to  hurt  him  again.  and  this  felt  a  lot  like  stringing  him  along.  was  she  ever  gonna  get  anything  right?  ❝  i’m  sorry.  ❞

[revolveir]

❝  just take my hand and close your eyes.  pretend we’re anywhere else but here.  ❞      -      @k1ngdingus​

𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆      -      accepting !

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 nods her head, one hand reaching out for one of his as her eyes shut tightly. ❝ anywhere else, but here. ❞ she whispers, nodding her head slowly. ❝ got it. we’re on a beach and we’re far far away. ❞ she admits, the corners of her lips turning up slowly. her racing heart was starting to slow and for a brief moment, she was able to to forget. she was able to pretend that they really were at the beach. she could ALMOST feel the sand between her toes and smell the ocean.

𝐇𝐄𝐑 hold on steve’s hand tightens as her eyes slowly open. in reality, they were very far from the beach. they were stuck in the place of her nightmares, but her breathing had returned to normal. ❝ thank you. ❞

[exilae-arc]

*      from @k1ngdingus​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​��​​​​​​​  :     IF YOU CAN’T WALK I’M GOING TO HAVE TO CARRY YOU  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ALRIGHT  ? ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ WE CAN’T STAY HERE  .

the pain is ‎ ‎  more than vivid  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ stretching through your leg ‎ ‎ &* ‎ ‎ growing like a vine  . ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ it awakens you  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ gives you ‎ ‎  recognition to the bug ‎ ‎ in your chest that has questioned your own existence for a while ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ( ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ it would be easier if this life was ‎ ‎ just a dream  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ if the pain ‎ ‎ &* ‎ ‎ loss was ‎ ‎ ONLY ‎ ‎ that  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ though you’re well aware of the fact that this reality is all you have ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ )  . ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ “ ‎ ‎ damn it  . ‎ ‎ ” ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ you whisper under your breath  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ frustration evident in flared nostrils ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ - ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ you’d hate to slow him down  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ be the weight that sits in his arms ‎ ‎ &* ‎ ‎ on his chest  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ but you know him well enough  . ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ no ‎ ‎ is not an answer  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ refusing ‎ ‎ is not an answer  . ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ “ ‎ ‎ alright  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ c’mon  . ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ hurry steve  . ‎ ‎ ” ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ arms reach out around him  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ clinging on ‎ ‎  deeper than skin ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ - ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ you won’t die here ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ ( ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ although the pain stretching  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ reaching  , ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ grabbing makes it feel as though death is at your front door ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ )  . ‎ ‎  ‎ ‎ “ ‎ ‎ thank you  . ‎ ‎ ”

[b1gerror]

“     HAPPY BIRTHDAY,   DINGUS.     ”      2 weeks after the mall burned down,   2 weeks since your vow of never becoming friends with steve ‘the hair’ harrington was broken.    ᴬᴺᴰ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴵᵀ'ˢ ᴴᴵˢ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴᴰᴬʸ,   felt like an admission of something,    how easily enemy turned to friend and is slipping into best friend.    ASK ME TOMORROW,     an invitation.     you don’t think you had spent a day without him since,    but you supposed being interrogated,  then drugged,   then almost dying from some massive shadow monster and the guy from your ³ᴿᴰ ᴾᴱᴿᴵᴼᴰ history class did that to people.      you knew it was his birthday,   not from anything said,   but from the triple underlined date in your sophomore year journal— -   ‘JULY 20TH.   it’s harrington’s birthday today,     i heard tammy talk about it when she came to see a film.  i’m sure his hair looks extra stupid,   enough product to ᴰᴵˢᵀᵁᴿᴮ some ecosystem somewhere.’         look at you now,   a year’s gone by and your standing at his door,    shoddily wrapped present in hands.     you didn’t even know what he liked,    what do you get something for someone who appears to have everything?     inside the box:      a copy of karate kid ⁽ᴬ ᴺᴼᵀᴱ: if i’m going to hang out with you,  you need a better movie taste),     russian: ᶠᴼᴿ ᴮᴱᴳᴵᴺᴺᴱᴿˢ,  just in case you found yourself in that situation again,   better you both learned?      and the polaroid from the first day you worked together,  you in front with a grin,   him sulking in the background,     unaware that a month later,  your life would be forever changed.            

a year on, months after the world (the town..?) died,   the air thick and acting as a constant reminder of that day,    of the deaths that weighed on you...&ᴴᴵᴹ.     it still didn’t feel right to celebrate anything,    but the day couldn’t just pass by.     you aren’t good at buying gifts.    ᴬ⁾   you had no money.    family video hadn’t exactly been getting a lot of business with the end of the world and all.     ᴮ⁾    you can’t ask your parents,   they had long set off to texas to stay with your grandparents,    asked you to pack up the house for them before they try and sell.      THEY DID ASK YOU TO LEAVE WITH THEM,   that counted for something,   right?       but that was never an option,    you weren’t going to leave the kids,   the town that you hated,    or steve..       ᴶᵁᴸʸ ²⁰ᵀᴴ ¹⁹⁸⁶.     it was just you and him in his apartment,   something that felt strange these days,   so used to the constant presence of the kids just needing somewhere safe.    you had gotten up at 6am,    tried, and failed to cook breakfast,   presented him with burnt toast, runny eggs, and soggy cereal paired with out-of-date milk.      the cake at dinner time turned out better,    having since went for groceries as a way to ᴺᴼᵀ ruin the entire day,   and beg the pizza shop a town over to enter hawkins.      a week earlier,   you had to beg nancy to drive you to indianapolis to find a copy of 𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚣𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚊,   scraped together whatever savings were left to buy it + the gas money,   but it was worth it.

the last part of your gift had taken the longest,   but you were suddenly grateful for your incessant need to not just enjoy a moment but to photograph it too—    a scrapbook with memories created over the last year,   not just you two but the kids as well,   placed inside a shoe box with miscellaneous items.     a rock that would have been round if not ˢᴼᴹᴱᴴᴼᵂ attached to another—    (steve said it was you and him,    you compared it to his hair.)       ticket stubs from the best movies over the year,  marked with your rating 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝟷𝟶,      a copy of fast times   (already set to 53 minutes and 5 seconds),     and a custom mixtape of his favourite songs that you complained about every car ride.              the bottom of the box was the last picture before the world went to hell,   march 10th,    your 18th birthday,   but the note inscribed on the back was more recent.

dear steve,     ( @k1ngdingus​ )                  if you find this box before your birthday,   please act like you’ve never seen it,  but truthfully?   i wanted to have it ready before then.   we don’t know what’s going to happen,  we don’t know when he’s going to come back,  and frankly?     ᴵ'ᴹ ˢᶜᴬᴿᴱᴰ  i’m scared i’m not going to be there to see your stupid face open it,   but i don’t want to focus on that reality.      because i’m going to be there,  and so are you,  and so are the kids because if i can see them,  i know that they’re safe,   and i know that you’re as happy as you can be right now.     you might not remember me from mrs click’s class,  but i remember you.   i told you before,   it was like this obsession,   that if i could just yell at you and shake some sense into that pea sized brain of yours,   you might see that tammy wanted you,    how could you have been so blind?     obviously then i realised that i wanted to be you,    not ᴹᴿ ᴾᴼᴾᵁᴸᴬᴿ but someone who was liked.      i thought that summer was going to be my own personal hell,    seeing your stupid hair over the booth,      being told that hey,  it’ll bring in customers.   barf,   a whole summer of watching steve harrington flirt?     but believe it or not,   you weren’t a total asshole,      i was mean to you every single day,   and yet you didn’t seem to care.       you became my best friend that summer, steve.   and i don’t think i’d trade it for anything,     even if it meant i’d be oblivious to the upside down and secret russians and girls with superpowers.    my life became more interesting the day i met you.      happy birthday steve.            love,   robin                    P.S.     if it’s ᴺᴼᵀ july 20th and you got this far,   i’m going to kill you.

robin doesn’t know how to love people,     but for him?    she’ll figure it out.

[filmdeve10ped]

❛            c’mon man . . . don’t do this . . .         ❜ don’t leave him alone to carry all this . . . don’t make him deliver the news to robin ( they don’t have much as it is & he isn’t enough  ).  ❛            don’t make me tell them you didn’t make it.         ❜ ( that you died protecting someone like him ). will byers . . . christ, hasn’t that kid suffered enough ? can’t handle the look of disappointment that will cross hopper’s face anytime they crossed paths . . . knowing that eldest was more his son than his own flesh & blood. ❛            open your god damn eyes !          ❜ shakes him, like that’ll be enough to bring him around ( who knew they’d end up here ? hawkin’s freak they used to say & now he would’ve done anything to be the one bleeding out against the pavement )  ❛            c’mon byers . . .         ❜ it’s barely whispered . . . soft spoken like all he was trying to do was wake him after a night of being cramped on a too small mattress with robin’s elbows digging into his side. 

clothes are stuck, sweat & crimson that belonged to them both clinging to his skin while guilt hangs from shoulders ( it should’ve been him ). chest heaves with exertion, tears leaving visible trails in the grime that had coated freckled cheeks . . . couldn’t remember the last time he felt that dampness against his lips. he can’t face joyce now ( can’t stand the sight of what a mother actually looks like when facing more loss than she’s ever deserved ) . . . not while he’s only ever brought death to her doorstep, like a feral cat seeking refuge. but he has to bring him home, steve’s jacket draped over him like that’s enough to cover up a mindless tragedy & could bring comfort where none would be found again. 

later that night he’ll turn pages of a scrapbook put together by a lost friend & attempt to swallow the guilt that’ll rise in his throat & choke him while he prays that robin will let him be there for them ( won’t rightfully blame him ). jonathan byers had always been a better guy than him . . . & in truth, he partly owed who he was now to him ( that thump had come from somewhere & he never got the chance to say thank you ). isn’t sure what to do without nights of dramatically claiming to dislike music he had come to love, without polaroids scattered across the floor of captured memories he’d wish to never forget, without kids falling out of their cars to chase each other inside, leaving them to bicker about who got there first. never did he think that one day he’d missing that pillar in life & how quickly things would come crashing down if it were missing. maybe atlas wasn’t meant to carry the weight of the world alone . . . but it’s all he could do when he was the only one left to do it. 

tonight, everyone, i have been humbled by those i love the most.