#lucas (and the sinclairs as a whole) deserve so much more

[steddieunderdogfics]

cannot more highly recommend the fic "project easy-bake" by maxineholtzmann on ao3! its such a fun and cute little spring fic that deserves so much more love!

Project Easy-Bake by maxineholtzmann

@maxineholtzmann

Rating: Teens & Up

16,911 words, 2/2 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, We're ignoring all of Season Four, It never happened, Chrissy Cunningham Lives, Chrissy Cunningham & Eddie Munson Friendship, Chrissy Cunningham Has a Crush on Robin Buckley, Robin Buckley Has a Crush on Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Has a Crush on Eddie Munson, Getting Together, First Kiss, Eventual background buckingham is implied, Minor Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Steve Harrington & Maxine "Max" Mayfield Have a Sibling Relationship, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson Friendship, Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Maxine "Max" Mayfield & Eddie Munson Friendship, This whole thing is a romcom, Baking, Hijinks & Shenanigans, No beta we die like Barb

Summary:

Max Mayfield was up to something. She’d popped over on Sunday to ask for flour. Then again on Tuesday. Now it was Wednesday and here she was on Eddie’s front porch again. “I need to borrow 2 cups of flour,” she said flatly, holding the same red plastic mixing bowl she’d been holding the last two times. “Wow, no ‘Hi Eddie, you’re such a great neighbour, how are you doing’? This is the third time this week you’ve asked for flour. What the hell are you baking and why are you baking it in such high quantities?” Eddie crossed his arms, leaning on the door frame of his trailer. Or: 5 times Max & Eddie try to bake a cake for Steve and 1 time there is no baking at all (look this really spiralled out of hand and my original 5+1 didn't fit anymore)

Thanks for the rec!

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[stobinesque]

One of my biggest issues with this storyline—and the lack of an onscreen apology from literally anyone to Lucas—is that they missed an opportunity to actually explore the nuances of Lucas' desire for social acceptance. It's canonically a part of the reason he's on the team and I don't really think there's a problem with it. Except that the show doesn't commit to either telling the story of how the one black/non-white kid in a friend group (who has also experienced a lot of trauma—some of which is directly tied to hi race!) might feel more motivation to "fit in", OR a story about someone who is changing fundamental aspects of who they are in order to do so. As you said, outside of missing one session, Lucas has not given up on DnD, and at no point do we see Lucas acting markedly differently with either his friends or the basketball team than he has in previous seasons. (Even when it would have been in his best interest to do so! While he plays along with the search for Eddie, he routinely tries to talk Jason & co. down and only ever says anything explicitly negative when he is being directly challenged/questioned. It would have been safer for him to ham up some supposed disdain the whole time, but he doesn't.)

Just like there's nothing wrong with being a jock and playing sports, there's also nothing inherently wrong with wanting to be socially accepted. (There's also nothing wrong with wanting to be popular but that doesn't even seem like something Lucas is explicitly interested in. He just wants to stop being a social outcast.) And, like, it's valid for Mike not to want that, but it's a lot easier for him to say that when he more or less has a choice in whether or not he is an outsider. But Lucas has and will never have that option, and the show has already demonstrated that his friends don't seem to understand that. In better hands we could have gotten a really interesting exploration of the inherent tension of being the only black/non-white friend in a friend group, and we also could have seen Dustin and Mike have to grapple with the fact that there is this one aspect of their friend that they will never be able to fully understand.

I also think the Duffers did Lucas and that storyline a real disservice by 1) refusing to flesh out Patrick even a modicum more (both Chrissy and Fred got more attention to their trauma and why Vecna was targeting them), when there is a clear implication that he and Lucas have bonded and 2) not giving Lucas and Jeff at least one onscreen exchange. If the Duffers really wanted to write a story about Lucas struggling with the unique circumstances of being black in a predominantly white small town, it would have been so easy to set Patrick and Jeff up as foils to each other and have them represent the choice between "acceptance" and "nonconformity." While I think that dichotomy is still overly simplistic it would at least make more sense than having that tension between set up between Jason and Eddie, because, realistically, Lucas is never going to be able to be either of them. And if Lucas was exploring his place as a black kid in Hawkins, talking to black students a little older than him and gaining insight into how they've managed to navigate it probably would have naturally come to a more complex conclusion anyway.

It really seems like the Duffers realized when creating Lucas that they couldn't completely ignore the racism he would face, but that they also had no interest in (or ability to) actually exploring it.

I apologize, you hit another one of my buttons but like I have mixed emotions on the whole basketball/DND thing in season 4. The way the show punishes Lucas choosing basketball over DND, as if other party members don't have interests outside of DND, is so frustrating. Lucas has to realize that "normal is a raging psychopath" when it's really not? He wasn't dropping his friends or interests to play basketball. He just had a conflict on one day. And if the Duffers didn't have an agenda, this is all it would be. Lucas likes two things and once they unfortunately happen to collide and he has to skip one of them. It's not a punishment, but rather something that people have to deal with sometimes. It's just so frustrating that the show punished Lucas for having interests outside DND, when Will has art, and Dustin has his radios!

But as someone who organized events when I was in high school, it is so hard to schedule things so that everyone can attend if they want to. Especially in the evenings. And at some point if you can get most people that you need at a time, you take it. So I can understand where Eddie is coming from, that it might not be worth it to cancel/reschedule the last session at the last minute when only one person can't make it. So I understand why Eddie might not want to move it. But again, they shouldn't have made it seem like it was a punishment for Lucas doing jock things.

But like Dustin and Mike! These two chose a game over supporting their friend and then they dragged that Lucas's sister into the game as well, so she wasn't there either! And Dustin and Mike did have a choice to say to Eddie, no, we want to support our friend, you can run the campaign with or without us. Because missing one person is one thing. Missing three is an entire other ball game.

And like all of this could have been resolved if they talked about it but now Eddie is dead so it's just a loose thread and a win for the Duffers in the nerd vs jock battle that only exists in their head.

Seeeeee the thing for me is, while I totally understand trying to coordinate a time to meet with everyone being difficult. It is! Group projects in uni are bonkers. But, Hellfire is directly called a club, meaning it has regularly scheduled meetings, presumably scheduled at the start of the semester (January) if not the school year. So it's not like they have to rearrange their schedule for this particular meeting, it's already ON the schedule. The make up might take work but. Postponing two weeks to do it on regular night isn't the end of the world. If the space is in use for whatever reason, people have basements and dining room tables.

I think it's mentioned that the championship game wasn't scheduled until like, a day or two before? If not it was likely at most a week and a half. With how Eddie talks about basketball, despite one of "his sheepies" being on the team, I don't really blame Lucas for being nervous to ask him directly. So like, there's a scheduling conflict, and literally any other session I wouldnt be upset. Stuff happens, sometimes you're down a player! You work through it with them doing something off screen. It's whatever.

It sucks but it can drum up whatever conflict they want from it I guess. It'd be a dick move to bring Erica (and his best friends) in when she could be supporting her brother at the championship but whatever. (Also. Introducing a new player character is kinda complicated? That's not something I would want to do in a finale?) It can be worked through. But. My experience playing dnd with people is that, y'know. The whole point isn't to beat the bad guy, it's to have fun with your friends? In S3 they sort of address this when Mike and Lucas half ass their way to finish Will's one shot faster! He's hurt partially because winning isn't what it's about! So having a player not able to make a major session for me just doesn't compute. I want my friend there! Who's been there from the beginning! I want to win with my friend.

Listen. I love Eddie! But he's clearly stuck in highschool clique mode, despite his anticonformist talking points, (something that is never brought up! Eddie's like stick it to the man! But as soon as someone steps out from the box he views as acceptable, he doesn't know what to do with them) and thus does things that are dickish. Someone in hellfire is on the basketball team, yet Eddie rails against them, doesn't even try to understand there's nuances. No wonder Lucas got Dustin (Eddie's favourite) and Mike to ask for a raincheck. Dustin and Mike could have stuck up for Lucas and said they couldn't find one, let alone three subs between them and the game. They could have gone! They should have gone! And the fact the didn't isn't brought up when it's already been an issue in S3 with Will, is a shame.

Having to cancel plans you're looking forward to sucks, but honestly it's more fun to reschedule big things (like a campaign finale) so everyone can make it than just. Replace them. Idk that's just me and my experience playing. We don't actually know how hellfire usually goes so maybe it's normal? Idk.

The show has this very bizzare view of jocks v nerds. As though every person who has ever touched a ball willingly is automatically a terrible person and only likes sports. There's sooooo many layers to it. Because people are complex. My brother was on like three teams in school, and a guy he was on football with that had a friend of a friend in common later said that he wasn't a jock! When I would have said he absolutely was. A nerdy one, absolutely, but definitely a jock.

It's annoying that the show just. Doesn't accept that people have many interests and sometimes those interests are sports. Sports are fun! Exercise is good for you! While, yes. Absolutely sports teams can cultivate a toxic environment, they can also be incredibly fulfilling.

It just feels like the Duffers want to punish anyone who dares like sports in any way tbh.

[downbytheriversside]

something you think that's underrated (show, music, ship, habit, animal, absolutely anything. can be multiple/a list. go wild)

Oh get ready to be here a while here we fuckin go...

Wind. It reminds me what it's like to be alive

Matt Maltese. Sad boy music that's so so good and makes me feel so much pain and catharsis. Also a lot of his songs are byler/Mike coded. You deserve an Oscar, shoe, everyone adores you, outrun the bear (byler will pov), as the world caves in, strange time (its second or third line is literally "and we'll both gladly lose our minds LIKE!!). Also paper thin hotel is tom wambsgan's song, and tom wambsgan's alone.

Lucas GODDAMN Sinclair. Need I say more? Doesn't matter cus I'm gonna- I genuinely believe he's the best written and performed character in the whole show, he's my sweet child ray of sunshine I love him dlfkgkfdn and he would NOT be the same without what Caleb brings to the table in his performance. And since day ONE he fucking ATE I keep putting EMPHASIS on so many WORDS but I digress. I do understand the problems with some of his writing which sucks but he is still incredible and you can tell that Caleb cares so much about him which I always love to see

The oh hellos album dear wormwood. Omg. Omfg. It's fucking TRANSCENDENT. ANYONE READING THIS WHO HAS GONE THROUGH/IS GOING THROUGH A TOXIC OR ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP OF ANY KIND LISTEN TO THIS IT IS SO HEALING. Not only is it cathartic asf but it depicts the anger and regret and pain and resignation and fucking every emotion under the sun that you experience in those kinds of relationships. And just how connected all of the songs are. The album itself is a loop, seriously. The last part of Thus Always to Tyrants (the final song on the album) leads right into the beginning of Prelude. And while we're on the subject of thus always to tyrants can we talk about how fucking impactful it is to end the album on that note? On a bittersweet toast to the people who hurt us because there is no getting rid of what they did, only making yourself stronger from it and healing?!!? About the notion that what they did was terrible but that is something you'll never forget because you can't but you're moving on to better things, wondering if they will change/have changed from who you knew them as?!??! ARE YOU FUCKNG KIDDING ME!!!!! AND just how connected the lyrics and melodies are in all of the songs. I've listened to the whole album easily over a hundred times and I still notice new lines that relate to each other or when bg melodies in one song are the main motif (?) of another. You can tell how much care and thought and love and emotion was put into its creation and I love it so so so much. Also if you dear reader do not want to spend 40 min listening to the album please please please just listen to Pale White Horse and Where is Your Rider. Oh. My. Fucking. God. Jesus fuck these songs. I'm just typing about them and I got chills like. I'm not joking at all when I say these songs actually changed my life. And the interconnectedness of them (sorta like a horse and its rider?) is just so special. They're whole fucking experiences to listen to and I will never get tired of it. Aaaaaaaahhh I wanna keep talking about this album but we'd be here for a long long long time but I might make a post about it if anyone was actually interested on my music blog @lyricsdumblikethelinoleumfloor at some point so. Stick around for that ?

Forehead kisses. We need more of those pls

Sincerity. For the love of the night sky. BE EARNEST! BE SINCERE!! BE GENUINE I WILL FUCKING STAB YOU-

Little thumb rubs while holding hands

My mutuals all of you deserve love and appreciation and tenderness every one of you fuckers I love you all <33333

Cucumbers. Shit fucks

LIBRARIES! Please if you can visit your local library, it'll be so lovely I prommy

Humans committing to silly bits together. And just like building off of each other's energy. One of the most beautiful things I have ever witnessed and that I'm so grateful to have experienced

Introspection. For the love of fuck pleaaaase more people need this. Everyone needs to practice introspection idc just do it it's not some shameful act it just helps you grow

Peach flavoured things. They're yummy 😋

My ever growing gnome figurine collection pretty underrated imo kinda flying under the radar imho

Burger King foot lettuce

Laying on the floor and doing nothing. 10/10 activity honestly. Especially when you're in a sun spot shit fucks

And that's m'list! Glad you made it to the end, sorry for the long post

[scoops-ahoy-fics]

dating lucas during season four (vol. 1) headcannons

hawkins wasn't really kind to either of you in 1986. there were a lot of ups and downs, but lucas was by your side the whole time.

reader: gender neutral

characters: lucas sinclair

genre: fluff/angst

spoiler warning?: HEAVY s4 vol. 1 spoilers

notes: why is there like no lucas content on here?? lucas deserves love too <33 i was a lil stumped on this one, so im sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted, but i tried!! i decided to just kinda put the reader in the events of season 4! hope you enjoy! @astronaut-spook

• Lucas is such a loving and caring boyfriend, it's unreal. You two started dating right before basketball season, and you wouldn't change it for the world. Despite caring for his friends and basketball, he finds time for you as much as he can.

• You're there at every basketball game, every event, and anything else you can be at to support your boyfriend. And you're there when he makes that winning shot. After the game, he ran up to you and hugged you as tight as possible, giving you a kiss on the forehead as you rambled on about how proud you were of him. Definitely a power couple on the rise.

• You didn't hear from him the day after, though, and you were worried. Somebody at your school had died, and it was just radio silence from your boyfriend. You looked everywhere for him, trying his house, and then trying his friend's houses. There, you ran into Dustin and Max, seeing if they had heard from him.

• They tried to brush you of but you were persistent, you weren't going to just let this go until you had answers and knew that your boyfriend wasn't in danger. The two looked between each other, before deciding to explain everything. Every thing. And you were more confused than ever. Your boyfriend has had a hand in defeating not one, but three monsters? What the hell?

• So you decided to just follow those two, running to the video store and attempting to help. As the crew eventually got a hold of Lucas, he was very caught of guard when he realized you were with them. “B-Babe! Hah ... so uh- you're not mad at me or anything, right? I was gonna tell you! I just ... didn't know when there would be a good time,” he said with an awkward laugh.

• You weren't mad at him, you would've probably found out eventually, you were more relieved that he was okay. He was at least safe for now, that's all that was on your mind. So you continued uncovering the mystery with Max, Dustin, Robin, and Steve.

• As you all got to the counselor's office, and Lucas ran in, you practically jumped into his arms. He was obviously worried. “You don't need to be here, you need to be home! I don't want you hurt, this is some really dangerous stuff here!” he insisted, but you refused. You were going to help.

• Lucas was pretty protective of you pretty much the entire time, his hand was always holding yours. Yeah, you could protect yourself, you he wasn't going to let you get hurt. You were one of the most important people to him, and he wasn't going to let you go.

• But, all of the sudden, you put some of the pieces together. Everybody that had been killed had been having headaches, and your head had been killing you for some time now. And then you heard the clock chime.

• Anxiety filled your body as you saw the clock, and when you came back to, you clung to Lucas as your breathing began to speed up. You were next, and you needed a solution. Quick.

• Nancy and Robin were on it almost immediately, and you were anything but calm. Lucas was the only one that could calm you down, telling you that everything was going to be okay. He would gently cup your face with his hands, pressing a gentle kiss onto your nose. “Baby, listen. We're not gonna let anything hurt you, that stupid monster dude is not gonna kill you. They're getting a solution now, so just stay calm for me, 'kay?”

• When Vecna got ahold of you, he was trying his best to stay calm, but he was a bit teary eyed. He couldn't lose you, and he was begging for Robin and Nancy to get an answer to them. Quick. And when he found out the answer was to play your favorite song, he knew exactly what it was. He rummaged around in your bag and found the song.

• As you fell from the sky, Lucas was at your side immediately, pulling you into his lap and pressing gentle kisses onto your forehead. He stroked your hair carefully as his eyes began to spill a few tears. He wiped them quickly, not wanting to be upset. He was just glad you were okay. He didn't let go of you for a little while, being relatively quiet. After a few minutes, he let out a soft laugh. “I told you nothing was gonna hurt you.”

[memoiremunson]

The Big Night - Eddie Munson x WOC!Reader, Lucas Sinclair x Platonic!Reader

Eddie Munson x WOC!Reader, Lucas Sinclair x Platonic! Reader, Appearances from The Hellfire Club

Summary: You find out the championship game is the same night as Eddie's campaign and convince him and the club to go support Lucas.

A/N: This is a bit of a self-indulgent, rewrite of this whole sequence bc it made so sad that no one from Hellfire went to support Lucas at an important moment in his life. Being a WOC, I wanted to include some solidarity between the reader and Lucas. Lucas is often left out of many storylines on here so I wanted to bring him into my fic bc he deserves better and is such a great character! Please do let me know if I took any missteps with his character as I wrote this from the place as a WOC. I will work to rectify any mistakes or problems. With all that being said, hope you enjoy! <3

Word Count: 2,385

Warnings: slight angst, mentions of racism

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Moving to Hawkins had been nerve-racking, to say the least. Yet here you were, fall semester, come and gone and the year nearing its close. In that time, you’d managed to join the Hellfire Club. The logo of the devil front and center was enough to intimidate you but the big brown teddy bear eyes led you to stay. The wicked charming smile and safety that seemed to radiate from the tall, lanky boy named Eddie led you to relax your shoulders and unclench your jaw as his calm demeanor drew you in.

Since then, the rest of the boys in Hellfire have accepted you into their little family and taken a liking to the responsible balance you bring to the chaos. Snapping out of your trance, you’re brought back to the table to discuss the finale of Eddie’s campaign tonight. 

Eddie’s eyes drift to yours silently checking in. You nod and give him a gracious smile as he reciprocates it. His doe eyes leave yours, returning to continue his conversation with Gareth and Paul. You begin to stand up to head to the bathroom before mouthing to Eddie that you're heading to the bathroom. He once again nods and smiles at you. 

As you turn a corner to the hall where the bathroom resides, you hear your name being called. Turning around you see none other than Lucas Sinclair. A smile grows on your face as the young boy approaches you in his basketball warm-up suit.

Now you had taken a special liking to Lucas as you felt protective over him. He was often the shyest of the boys and much more soft-spoken in the group. You could see how he struggled to balance liking nerdy things and also wanting to be popular. When you first moved to Hawkins, you struggled with this too but being older and realizing that high school wasn't going to be the peak of your life, you accepted where you stood in the Hawkins hierarchy.

Being a POC also led you to feel solidarity with Lucas being in a predominantly white, racist school. You felt there was a deeper, mutual understanding between you and Lucas to protect one another. 

He jogs up to you with a smile, holding something in his hands. 

“Hey, y/n!”

“Hi, Lucas!” You reply as you mimic his excited tone. 

“Hey, so I got the club tickets for my game tonight.”

Oh. Right. The big championship was moved to tonight. 

“Oh ok!” You say as he hands you one. 

“Here’s yours. I’d rather give it to you now and not risk having Eddie lose it or something.”

“No, you’re completely right to give it directly to me. Thanks!” 

As he turns on his heel to leave and head into the cafeteria to give the boys theirs, you stop him. 

“Wait, Lucas.”

“Yeah?” He must've forgotten, caught up in the anticipation of the game.

“Eddie’s campaign ends tonight.” 

Now it's his turn for his face to drop. 

“Right, shit- I-I mean, sorry” He blurts out. You lightly chuckle. 

“It’s alright but um- look I really want to be there for you and I'm sure the uh-,” you hesitate knowing the outcast titles linked to the rest of your mutual friends, “boys will want to be there for you too but um...” 

He nods along to your statement, not sure where it's leading. Your eyes flit across his face before making their way down to your shoes. 

“Just let me talk to them about it, yeah?” 

“They’re my friends too, y/n” 

“Yeah I know but it's just- it's going to be hard to ask Eddie to move tonight, especially since you've been missing club meetings lately.” 

He frowns at this but understands what you're saying. He knows how serious Eddie is about campaigns but he also knows you practically have the boy under a spell. 

“Yeah ok. I’ve actually got to talk to Max and some guys on the team so would you talk to them and give them these?” He hands you the stack of tickets. 

“Of course, Lucas.” His smile appears again, genuinely happy to have a friend as understanding as you. 

“Thank you so much y/n. I’ll see you later o-or tonight, whichever comes first!” He says as he begins walking back out of the hallway.

“Alright Lucas, see you later!” You return his smile.

Glancing back down at the tickets, you sigh. You really hoped this would go smoothly but knew the inevitable pushback that was coming your way. You could let Lucas handle this but you’d rather do it knowing how the boys can be and wanting to soften the blow of hurt feelings. Pushing away the negatives, you made your way to your original destination. 

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As you head back into the cafeteria, you feel your palms begin to sweat. You trusted the boys and Eddie with all your heart but you were still nervous at the potential of their reactions. Despite this, you knew the right thing would be to support Lucas as you felt he desperately needed the support of his friends from both worlds.

Whatever the outcome, you were going to support Lucas. You felt the way he looked up at you, you noticed the way he would relax knowing you were in his corner and always there to support him. That comfortableness you felt in each other's company was something you cherished and wanted to protect. 

Eddie sees your figure walking towards your usual seat next to him at the table and stands to pull out your chair. “For you m’lady,” he says as he pulls your chair out and kisses your cheek. You smile and reply with a soft, “thank you.” You scootch in as Eddie takes his seat next to you. The guys and now Dustin and Mike all express their excitement for tonight. Suddenly, you clear your throat and all eyes fall on you. Now having grabbed all their attention, you feel your nerves at their highest. 

“So I ran into Lucas on the way to the bathroom and he gave me these.” You put your hand in your jacket pocket and take out the tickets.

Curiosity spreads across each of the boys' faces.

“These are tickets to the championship game … that um, happens uh … tonight.” As you say this, Dustin and Mike turn to look at each other confused as to why Lucas hadn’t come to them first to talk about this.

The table goes silent.

You hesitantly look at Eddie’s face. His face is unreadable as he focuses ahead on the bag of pretzels he had brought for lunch that day. Your eyes glance to Jeff, then Gareth, then Paul. Each of their faces waited, anticipating what their dungeon master had to say. Eddie sighs before breaking the silence. 

“Baby ... my campaign ends tonight.” 

“Yes, I remember, Eds, but the game got moved to tonight.” 

The boys watch your exchange with Eddie carefully, feeling a shift in the air. 

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to find a sub for him, won’t we?” He states with a firmness in his decision. 

“Eddie,” you begin, “this is really important for Lucas. Do you think we can push back the end of your campaign one night so we can all be there for him?”

Eddie’s nostrils flares as he doesn't want to argue about this, especially in front of the club. 

You start to ramble before he has the chance to reply.

“Think of it as building up the tension even more and this way we can all be present for your spectacular, soul-shattering finale.” Silence falls over the table once again as Eddie’s eyes harden ever so slightly. 

“Sweetheart,” he tries again but his words have a bit more bite, “It’d be easier to just find a sub for him.” He says as gently as possible.

However, you don't back down.

Slightly pissed you reply, “Easier for you or easier for him.”

He blinks owlishly at your harsh tone. 

“Look, Lucas can’t change the championship game but you can adjust your campaign.” 

“That’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair is you being stubborn and not wanting to support a fellow member.” 

Now his blood has risen along with yours. This was the first time that both of you were butting heads and no less in front of the other boys. He watches you for a moment and stands up sharply before meeting your eyes. 

“Y/n, can we talk somewhere private.” He asks but his tone indicates it’s not really a question. 

You hesitate, nervous this would lead to a much harsher spat than you anticipated but stand anyway. Your voice is quieter as you reply with a soft, “yeah.”

He leads you outside the cafeteria, slowly interlocking your pinky with his, to the only place where he can get quiet solitude, his smoking spot. The walk is quiet as you each form your words carefully in your heads. His tall frame becomes slightly intimidating now that he stands in front of you. You watch as he brings his jeweled hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“I’m sorry,” he starts, “I just didn't want the guys to see us … fighting.”

“Well, I wouldn't exactly categorize it as fighting ... ” He looks into your eyes waiting for an indication that you’re joking but you remain serious. 

“Well, what would you call," his hands waft pointedly between the two of you," this…” 

You breathe out a sigh. "A heated discussion?" You let a small reassuring smile break across your face, hoping to diffuse the tension.

Your eyes then see his hands begin to rub the sides of his pockets and avert his eyes away from yours, his tells that he's nervous.

You take a step closer to him noticing the behavior. “Eddie,” you bring your hands up to his cheeks as you guide his eyes back to yours.

“I understand Eddie, I really do. I know you’ve been working so hard on your campaign and I’m really sorry for making you feel embarrassed in front of our friends ... but ... Lucas really needs his support system.” His eyes watch yours intensely, not wanting to interrupt.

“He’s been trying so hard to find his place here and I think we should all be good friends and attend, for his sake.” He remains quiet, not wanting to give in to you just yet. Yet, he begins to crumble under your gaze as he sees a sheen in your eyes.

Now it’s your turn to wait for him.

He finally sighs and his eyes flutter shut as he nuzzles into your hands.

He’s seen the way others target Lucas more harshly than the other boys. He had noticed this with Jeff but Jeff was older now and could defend himself more. Lucas was young and at that age where he needed his friends more than ever. Eddie realizes all of this and suddenly feels selfish. You simply watch as his features soften. 

“Ok. You’re right.” 

“Please don't agree with me if you only want to end this ‘fight.”

“No, no, no, that’s not it sweetheart. You’re right. I’m sorry.” 

“You don’t have to be sorry, baby. You didn't do anything wrong.”

 “Ok,” he replies. 

You bring your hands to hold the back of his neck as you turn your cheek into his chest and bring him into an embrace. He sighs contently as he allows himself to curl into your hold. The two of you remain there for a couple of beats before you pull back and give him a gentle kiss. He hums into the kiss and as his hands begin to slide down your waist to your back pockets, you pull away chuckling. He pouts as you bring his hands back up. 

“Nuh-uh, mister, we’re still at school,” you squeal.

“Aw, baby, you’re such a tease,” he jokes.

“Me!” You feign shock, “a tease, never!” He’s glad to see your serious demeanor diminish. He then groans as you give him a wicked smile.

 “Alright ms. tease, let’s head back in.” The two of you walk back in, hands now interlocked.  

--------- --------- --------- --------- --------- --------- --------- --------- 

You stand next to Eddie, Lucas’s number etched on your cheek in white eyeliner. As much as you supported and loved Lucas this is as far as you would go for school spirit. The two of you wait side by side for the rest of the boys to meet you at the entrance. Mike and Dustin linger next to you, chatting about the latest game that went up at the arcade. You decided it was best to hold onto the group’s tickets as the designated responsible member. The faces of Gareth, Jeff, and Paul finally make their way into your eye line as you begin to wave them down. They meet your smiling face with their own smiles, catching up to you and Eddie. 

“Alright, here are your guy's tickets,” you say as you begin handing them out, “Please don't lose them in the next 2 seconds.” Dustin scoffs as you say this, catching Eddie’s attention. “Do you think so lowly of us, y/n,” he asks. “No,” you quickly reply, “but at the same time you are teenage boys,” you finish as a laugh escapes your throat. The boys roar in groans and laughs before you all head in. Finding your seats proved to be a bit difficult as students known to deem you guys as social outcasts threw dirty looks and suddenly found difficulty moving for your group. However, they always underestimated Eddie’s strength as he lead you all, throwing an occasional jab of the elbow, to seats right smack in the middle with a perfect view of the court. As Lucas’s name was announced, he jogged in through the tunnel to be met with a loud roar coming from the middle of the stands. 

His eyes locked with yours as you screamed his name and then scanned the rest of Hellfire. They whooped and hollered as you encouraged them to do so beforehand. Lucas’s eyes shone as bright as ever as he held his shoulders further back. Eddie stole a glance at you who hadn't stopped cheering for him until the next player’s name was announced. He watched at how passionate you were about your both of your friends. He realized that you were right to convince him to push his campaign. He was so in love with you and how you were able to let him experience moments he would've missed out on. He silently thanked the stars above for finding you before focusing back to catch another glimpse of Lucas’s radiant smile. 

Thank you for reading, Angel! <3

[yikesharringrove]

“My dad. He hits me.”

It had taken all of Billy’s strength to say. To overcome the embarrassment, and the shame, and the fear that he would be met with nothing but a guess you deserve it, then.

He didn’t look up. Couldn’t.

Couldn’t bear to see how big Robin’s blue eyes had probably gone, how Steve’s were probably full of rage and unshead tears.

He was so fucking ashamed.

Ashamed of his father. Ashamed of himself for never standing up. Ashamed of the whole damn situation.

“Okay. Uh, so what was the thing you were gonna tell us?”

Billy’s head snapped up to look at Steve, and something angry began to simmer in his gut. Because Steve looked confused and maybe a little like this was all some big joke.

“That was the thing, dickwad,” Billy snapped back, baring his teeth, ready to defend himself the way he never could at home.

“Uh, really?” And Steve just kept on looking confused, making Robin stare at him like she was trying to bore a hole into the side of his head with her glare. “Because you acted like you had some crazy news, calling us both to talk. And, I mean, this isn’t news.”

“Well, okay, Dectecive Harrington. Just because you fucking figured it out-”

“Billy, man. There’s nothing to figure out. All dads hit their sons.”

It was like time stood still. Like standing on an icy lake, not hearing the cracking beneath your feet until it was too late and you were being plunged into water.

Billy thinks he’s suffocating.

“Steve,” Robin licked her lips, looking like she didn’t know how to put this. “Does you father, does he hit you?”

“Oh, all the time.” Steve waved a hand, so cavalier, so nonchalant.

And this was not how Billy pictured this conversation to go.

“What for?” Robin was still pressing, Billy just sitting across from Steve, slack jawed and struck dumb.

“Oh, you know. This and that.” He began listing off on his fingers. “Being short with my mom, missing curfew, not setting the table correctly, not getting into college, accidentally driving on the lawn when I was backing out of the driveway, generally being dumb. I don’t know. Just stuff.”

“Fuck. Fuck.” Now Billy was angry for another reason. That Steve had been dealing with the same awful shit he had, and thought it was normal. At least Billy knew it was wrong.

He stood up, kicking at the leg of the coffee table in front of the couch.

And Steve just kept on looking confused.

“Steve, are you serious about all this?” Robin was so much better at stuff like this than Billy, keeping her voice even as Billy paced back and forth, ready to explode.

“Well, yeah. I mean, I know it’s just one of those things no one talks about, but it happens all the time. It’s just, I don’t know, a fact of life.”

“So, if it’s a fact of life,” Billy was speaking through gritted teeth. “Are you gonna hit your boy?”

Steve looked down at his hands.

“I don’t, I don’t know. I mean, it makes me feel super shitty, you know? I just kinda always hoped I’d have daughters and then I wouldn’t have to worry about it.”

“Jesus, Steve. This is so fucked up. Like, you get that, right? The reason that was my big shitty news, is because it’s not a fact of life.”

“But, I mean, my grandpa hit my dad, and he hits me, and your dad hits you, and Lonnie Byers-”

“Weren’t you, like, best friends with Tommy H? Did his dad, do that?” Robin was trying to be more logical about it. Billy just wanted to take Steve and run the fuck away from their shitty fathers.

“Well, we just never talked about it. That’s kinda what you do. Don’t talk about it.”

“So, you think Dustin’s dad hit him? Or Lucas’s dad?”

“Uh,” Steve was blinking rapidly. “I mean, I guess.”

But, that didn’t make sense.

Steve has seen Lucas and his dad interact.

They seem close. They joke around with one another, and Mr. Sinclair takes interest in his son, and what he likes. He listens to him, and that’s so unlike Steve and his own father.

“Stevie, hitting your kid is fucked up. It’s not, normal.”

“It’s abuse.”

That hit Billy right in the gut.

Sure, he knows it’s bad, but putting That Word on it, naming it, makes it feel that much worse.

“But, no.” Steve was shaking his head, his arms folding over his stomach to hug himself. “No. I’m not, I’m not abused. It’s just. Some slaps. Maybe he’ll push me around. It just happens.”

“Steve.” Billy was talking through gritted teeth, his hands clenched on the back of the chair in front of him. “No, it doesn’t.”

“But you said-”

And the sound that left Billy actually fucking hurt as it tore its way up and out of his throat.

“It’s fucked up! No parent should hit their kid! And I was fucking scared to tell you two because I thought, I thought you’d tell me I deserved it, or-or that I should just buck up or something. I didn’t think I would be more proof to your fucked up theory.”

“Billy’s right. No parent should ever do that to their child.” Robin slid one hand over the polished wooden table to rest it on top of Steve’s hand. “And you don’t deserve that. Either of you.” Her head whipped around to glare at Billy, daring him to contradict her.

But it was Steve that did.

“I don’t know if you guys were listening, but sometimes I really do. And that’s ok-”

“Harrington, don’t you fucking dare say it’s okay. You don’t deserve that shit.” The fire in Billy’s gut was so immense, he’s surprised black smoke didn’t come pouring outta his mouth when he opened it to speak. “We don’t deserve it.”

And Steve still looked confused and like he wanted to argue back.

“My dad hits me because I’m a fucking fairy. And Byers’ dad hit him because he wasn’t fucking good at baseball or something. You think that’s reason to hit a kid? You think finding your eight year old staring at Jim Morrison a little too hard means you can break his fucking arm?”

Billy could see the second that it all came crashing down onto Steve.

And Billy can feel the searing pain of the tears dripping down his cheeks.

“If my old man were here, he’d hit me for bein’ a cryer.”

And then Steve had matching tear tracks on his cheeks and he could barely choke out-

“Mine too.”

[antisociallilbrat]

Volume 2 SPOILERS

These are just some incoherent and messily bullet pointed thoughts of volume 2

Okay so first of all, Elmax shippers we are THRIVING. Max not so much

It was kinda spoiled for me that we didn't get a proper 'reunion' between these too but we got so much more. Max STILL thinking of El as her happy memories, honestly about the same amount she was thinking of Lucas, and how El was IMMEDITALY like 'oh no we need to get to Hawkins my gf is in trouble'. And when Max saw her in her mind!! "Are you real??" and she kept touching her and and !! They were literally risking their lives for one another

and how El SAVED Max bc she couldn't handle a world where Max was not in it

You KNOW El is going to be visiting Max often in the hospital, trying to reach her

I just love Elmax okay and we ATE this volume

Now I don't ever expect them to be canon together but damn do we have good stuff for fanfics/edits now

Byler shippers...I'm so sorry guys

I don't even ship Byler and I was feeling y'all's pain during THOSE scenes, y'all got done dirty

The thing that hurt me was Eddie's death

I completely expected and yet it still hurt

He deserved more than what he gave him, I will never forgive them for just LEAVING his body in the upside down, also Dustin being the only person affected by Eddie's death after everything?? Downright cruel

On a lighter note, the development of the Sinclair and Byers sibling relationship was cute and appreciated

Honestly the whole nancy/steve/johnathan love triangle was boring and drawn out and the show would be better with out it

One last point, I'm so happy we at least got the El and Hopper reunion

[strangeswift]

And where are YOUR thanksgiving headcanons 🤨

Okay okay here they are!!!

Growing up, the party all have Thanksgivings separately with their families. After the events of S5, they all spend it together.

It's hosted at the Hopper-Byers house (not the old Byers house, they built a new one) and the whole party and their families attend.

Unpopular opinion: Joyce isn't a great cook. She does well enough, it's not that her food is bad, it's just not delicious. But that's okay, because Karen comes over early and helps cook. They handle the turkey and the stuffing and a few sides. She brings Mike over too, but he's no help in the kitchen, in fact he is a hindrance, because he distracts Will who is trying to help.

Ms. Henderson and Dustin bake all day long, and show up with a shit ton of pies. They're the best goddamn pies you've ever had.

The Sinclairs bring over sides like mashed potatoes and green bean casserole, Lucas and Erica both help their mom cook. They bicker the whole time. "Why are you peeling it like that?" "How else do you peel a potato?" "Not like that."

Max's mom is an excellent fucking cook, and she and Max bring over the best fucking sweet potato casserole ever.

Speaking of Max's mom, it takes her a while to get comfortable being around everyone, but Joyce and the other moms make her feel so welcome. I think she really gets along with Lucas's parents too. (Because I want them to, because lumax deserve supportive parents 🔫)

Steve and Robin come too because they're both very close with Nancy and Jonathan FIGHT ME ITS MY HC I CAN BE SELF INDULGENT IF I WANT

There's not enough room for everyone to sit at the dining room table, so the older adults end up sitting there, while the party and Jon/Steve/Nancy/Robin end up scattered across the connected living room, sitting on couches, chairs, and coffee tables with their plates in their laps.

Joyce makes everyone say one thing they're thankful for. Jonathan records it. Most everyone is displeased with this tradition, but they fake enthusiasm for Joyce's sake.

If you even care, Mike usually says something generic like "I'm thankful I get to spend time with you guys," which still makes Joyce melt. BUT after they move on from him he whispers in Will’s ear, "You. I'm thankful for you." Will laughs and waves him off but he's internally melting into a puddle. (Author's note: that was so sappy I threw up in my mouth a little ew ew ew.)

Hm I had more but this is more than sufficient methinks. Thank you very much Ratt for asking (or demanding?)

[rosemaryandarsenic]

Can we just talk about Lucas Sinclair for a minute because I feel like he gets missed a lot and he’s one of my favorite characters. LIKE:

- he’s logical about so much stuff, and he’s almost always the voice of reason. He misses things sometimes and he’s stubborn but he’s just sensible and kind hearted.

- he gave us the iconic line “friends don’t lie”

- the way he treats max, even when they aren’t together. Like he loves her so much and it’s clear how much he respects her.

- did not give a single fuck about Billy’s actions towards him, and put himself at risk to keep max safe from the upside down.

- fought the mind flayer without a second thought and constantly does whatever he can to protect his friends

-he was reserved abt el at first but once she made it clear she was on their side he made sure that she was safe with him. Lets not forget he saved her from the mindflayer several times but specifically in the cabin when it had her by the leg.

- stayed with max’s body for what was probably hours when she was attacked by Vecna, both times, and in the hospital. Wouldn’t let anyone near her to the point he was held at gunpoint and had his shit rocked.

- this poor kid has dealt with so much betrayal and I hope with all my heart that max comes back and they can see that movie. I hope Lucas keeps playing basket ball and I wish his friends had been there to see him shoot his shot. I hope he keeps playing D&D and never gets bullied again. He deserves the world.

- I know he was conflicted with the whole Eddie situation but this man did everything in his power to keep the peace and protect everyone he viewed as friends. Being black in small town America is not easy but Lucas keeps his heart out there and does his best to be himself and I’m really fucking proud of him for that.

- Lucas is fucking hilarious. He and Dustin always have the best one liners without meaning to and it kills me.

- Lucas is an ESTJ so he’s the stable one in the group, always keeping people grounded and making sure their needs are met.

- he’s fashionable, also lets not forget that he dressed like the karate kid because Max had a crush on Ralph from the movie.

- he’s SMART AS HELL, evidence is mr Clarke and the fact that he’s the ranger of the group. His observation skills have saved el from the government as well as Dustin.

- he’s good with weapons and he learned it from his dad who also fought in Vietnam (like hopper). He’s a good fighter, I mean he fought off billy, Jason and several bullies.

- he’s a mammas boy.

- he cares about his sister, even though they fight.

- like I don’t think we talk about his ability to wield an axe enough

All around, Lucas is a fantastic character and an excellent boyfriend and these are a few of the reasons I love him so much. It’s a bonus that Erica is his sister because she’s also such a fucking badass. Lets give the Sinclairs some more credit thanks!!!

[greenlikethesea]

Hiiiiiii I am here in reference to your previous post for a director’s commentary on old wives tales???? Like as much or as little of it as you want, lol, I love Fair Ithilien and I LOVE listening to you and sparklyslug talk about the conception and writing of the series!!!! And old wives takes was SO GOOD I literally think about it all. The. Time.

hello my friend! happy to answer! <3 @sparklyslug please feel free to tag in at any point!!! this turned into a novel, sorry y'all --

more about erica's character will be expanded upon as we work on the series more, but i definitely am happy to tell you a few things that i had in mind as i was writing old wives' tales:

i absolutely love the sinclairs as a family and i love erica especially. i love this girl who is all hard edges where lucas is softness and sensitivity, the head where lucas is the heart. she and steve are probably canonically the most genre savvy of the bunch, built to be the final girl.

eddie is her fucking achilles heel.

she's about thirteen when she realizes that the bubbling feeling in her stomach when he smiles at her is not just the need to one-up him, not just the need to prove that she's the best, but another thing entirely -- the thrill of seeing slivers of skin, his tattoos that are so dark against his pale skin. i think she tells him, after steve's wedding when dancing with him felt like floating somewhere in space, but before eddie leaves for california, in the fall of 1989. she knows it'll never go anywhere, knows that it's doomed, thinks he's going to be mean because that's the rapport they have. ribbing, teasing. he's the big brother (sort of, kind of, lucas is like fucking annoying and screams like a girl and erica wants to drown in eddie's eyes, gross, disgusting) and she's the kid sister.

he lets her down so gently. takes her hand and looks directly into her eyes with those fucking cow eyes that make her want to die and speaks so softly. thank you for telling me. it takes a lot of guts to say something like that. and it's an honor. i guess i ought to tell you something too, right? in exchange. a lord for a lady. he takes her out for milkshakes, and they talk for hours, and she finds out why he's never had a girlfriend, why he's never even looked at a girl in the whole time she's known him.

"does lucas know?" she asks.

he shakes his head. "i'll tell him eventually, probably. but i think you deserve absolutes."

erica, after everything in hawkins, goes the nancy wheeler route of getting some physical distance between herself and the utter mess that was her time growing up in indiana (with both eddie and max's encouragement -- max, who is her fucking hero and her favorite of all of lucas' girlfriends, even after all these years). she gets a full ride to spelman college in atlanta (sue sinclair went there, and she wants to form friendships with other fierce, whip smart, assertive young Black women). she outgrows her parents' more conservative leanings, gets more than a little radical left, kisses a girl or two just to make sure she's straight (she is, and she's a little bummed about it, to be perfectly honest). loses her virginity to a guy from georgia state she met while organizing a protest against planned public transit cuts and, for some reason that she cannot fathom, calls steve's house phone at 2am to tell him. as mentioned, he takes it very well; they do not speak of it again not because he's embarrassed, but because she's mortified at how well he takes it. while she's a little bit closer to eddie than she is to steve (and steve's hot, anyone who is remotely attracted to men would agree), she and steve still keep in fairly regular contact.

charles, sue, and lucas all urge her to take a break after undergrad, but nope, erica has never done anything by half, so she goes to emory. she meets antonio, a pretentious, snotty rich boy from a prominent marietta family at a first year mixer and it's loathing at first sight -- so naturally, they have all of their classes together. it's very much a beatrice and benedick situation in which, of course, they're madly in love with each other and everyone in their cohort is placing bets on when they're just gonna do the damn thing already. ugh, so annoying.

eddie and erica stay really close. in the whole eddie and steve song and dance, erica mostly stays the fuck out of it. she likes megan, thinks she's smart and funny and interesting, but she clocks the resemblance between her and eddie immediately, and is one of the first people to pick up on things going south. while outwardly she's switzerland, she's a sucker for the long game, and is very much gunning for everyone involved in that situation to have something, like, remotely resembling what she and antonio have.

erica and antonio have a very long engagement while they both establish their careers in gary -- antonio is estranged from his parents and gets a placement there and erica figures it'd be good to be closer to her family anyway. they tie the knot in april 2003, and their son, leon edward powers (and oh, how eddie cried!) is born on august 14, 2008, steve's 42nd birthday.

(when they finally get married, steve and eddie have been together for a little over a year. she's having a moment by herself, taking a breather from the frankly exhausting rigamarole of greeting every single person she's ever met. eddie gently taps her on the shoulder. "right behind you. may i have this dance?"

and god, in another life, in another world, in some other dimension that isn't the one crawling with eldritch abominations -- but just a fantasy, really, so grateful it isn't real -- he would be her husband. she's floated there from time to time over the years, a safe dream in her mind when things got tough in school, at work, in the raw moments just after fights with antonio, but she's happy to leave it behind.

"you snagged a good one, littlest sinclair," eddie says, pressing a kiss against her forehead. embarrassment and joy duke it out inside her, but she kicks that mortification to the curb for just this moment. she can have feelings. her husband, her wonderful, impossible husband, who is currently arm wrestling lucas over by the dessert table, taught her that. but eddie planted that seed, the suggestion that she deserves to be loved exactly as she is, prickly and strange and a little raw, but wholly worth it.

"yeah," she says. she did.)

[fireballhot]

Stranger Things Season 4 Characters Part 1

THE MVPs

Eddie Munson

For me, the one true real MVP of the season. Despite his terrible father he grew up to be a pure soul who wanted to make something out of his life. He was an outcast, wrogfully blamed for Chrissy's death but still, he never lost his spirit.

I hate that he died. I hate that they didn't bring him back for a proper burrial. I hate that the world will never find out that he was a true HERO. His death made me soooo angry but he went out like a true Metal God.

Never change Eddie Munson, Never change!!

Max Mayfield

I don't understand why this character had to go through so much and in such a brutal way. She had the balls to go us against Vecna for a second time and her last scene...oh my. So raw and honest.

Her strength, her courage, her batlle with depression was inspiring. She fought with all her heart to get out of that dark hole and deserved to be saved.

I really hope she somehow manages to come back to us.

Dustin Henderson

Once again, a true loyal friend to all and especially to Eddie. That last scene with the uncle just broke me. Not to mention the actual death scene. He is always the brains of the group and without him they have lost a lot sooner. He is a pure soul and I hope no one and nothing will ever corrupt him.

It's heartbreaking that Eddie died in his arms and I believe he is broken inside, even though he won't admit it.

Nancy Wheeler

I don't think she gets enough praise. She is a total bad ass, smart and all in all strong female character done. In all seasons she jumps into action without a second thought. Even though she saw first hand Vecna's power, she didn't think for a second to back down.

Steve Harrington

Awww the babysitter of our hearts. What a great character development. Though he didn't personally know Eddie, he trusted Justin and gave his all to protect him. He was injured by the bat-gorgons but chose to go for a second time to the upside down to protect his friends.

Robin

Like everyone else, she didn't think twice before joining the team to save the world, AGAIN!

Awkward but brave and quick witted I was excited that she seemed to find a ray of light in this darkness towards the end.

Erica Sinclair

I Have to be honest, when she was first introduced I was not impressed. I thought she was just a nutt cracking spoiled little brat. But man was I proved wrong. Just because someone is a "nerd" doesn't mean they are weirdos with no social skills and Erica is a fine example of that. Eleven could take some lessons from her but we'll get to that too.

Lucas Sinclair

I was so sorry for him when his friends ditched his big game. They are supposed to be a group, best friends and yet they couldn't be happy that he found something fullfilling.

I love how he stayed with Max till the end and I pretty sure this whole experience is going to break him in the next season.

Joyce & Hopper

Again, in all honestly I found their story arc a bit boring. It could have ended a lot sooner but they chose to drag it. If it wasn't for jaqen h'ghar....I am sorry Enzo, I wouldn't mind skipping those scenes.

Nevertheless, they make a terrific duo and I can't wait to see more of their dynamic.

[gwendolynnderolo]

things i want in stranger things season 4 in no particular order:

eleven and will friendship

eleven and jonathan bonding

joyce being eleven’s mom

the byers + eleven being a family and supporting each other

max and mike friendship

jopper reunion + dramatic kiss

max grieving billy (even though he’s not dead)

billy coming back

max and billy reuniting and her learning everything he’s been through

STEVE AND DUSTIN FRIENDSHIP

scoops troop

more erica sinclair

reunion of the monster hunting trio but robin joins them this time

more robin and steve friendship

steve being a dad

steve realizing he’s bi with robin’s help

will and robin friendship (i don’t know how just give it to me)

max and robin friendship (i really just want robin to be friends with everyone okay)

more dustin and lucas cause i love their dynamic so much

eleven learning to live without her powers (bonus if the byers help her)

hopper backstory (cause i’m pretty sure there’s been hints about him having fought in vietnam but nothing confirmed)

just nancy being a badass

more wheeler siblings content

more siblings content in general tbh

neil hargrove dying a horrible violent death

more about steve’s parents

just more steve honestly i love him

cute max and lucas content cause i feel like their whole relationship last season was just drama and i really like them together

max and lucas continuing to make fun of dustin for the neverending story thing

will just getting a fucking break. please let him go one season without getting kidnapped or possessed

cute nancy and jonathan moments. i know they live in different states now but i don’t care give me my jancy content or give me death

robin being the party’s chaotic lesbian aunt

more murray. i don’t care how just bring him back

this ties back to the billy coming back thing but i really want a billy and steve team up plus some bonus robin

said this already but it bears repeating STEVE AND DUSTIN FRIENDSHIP. literally my favorite team up in the entire show i love them so much

someone giving every single character a hug because i can’t do it and they all deserve it

feel free to add on any of your hopes for season 4 and dm me if you want to talk about the show!

[acrossed-cartoons]

i'm so mad about stranger things s4

like... i was annoyed last night when i finished watching it but then i got on here this morning and saw everyone being like "here are all the reasons this season was bad"

and y'all... they have some points. to me it boils down to the duffers doing too much with the plot and not enough with the characters. there was something going on every fucking second plot wise but no time for the characters to talk with each other about all the shit going on, how they had changed as people, how they're relationships had changed.

i also think this was made so much fucking worse by that damn time jump!!!! how tf are you going to make a two hour and twenty two minute episode and have maybe four minutes of resolution (that made no sense by the way). at the end of s3 we got to see max's reaction to billy's death, eleven finding out hopper was gone, we got to see the characters talking and explaining and grieving. why, pray tell, were we robbed of that this season when we needed it 1000x more?????? everyone was so hyped for the finale specifically because everyone was split up the whole season! we thought we were going to get a huge reunion when everyone needed it most and then we just... didn't? eleven not asking a single question when hopper showed up??? ... ok.

speaking of eleven, yeesh. wtf is up with her being the only one who is possibly able to do anything ever? why have the hawkins gang make a plan just for her to swoop in and save them?? let other people help and fight and be heroes!! why couldn't max help fight vecna or at least be the one to remind eleven how loved and important she is (she would have done a better job than mike... that's all i'm saying. her memories with eleven were even her next happy memories to hide in that she had queued up after the snow ball)!

i mean seriously, the duffers screwed everyone over this season. not one character got some helpful, healthy growth (or even some pain that caused them to change!) will, robin, steve, nancy, jonathan, the sinclairs!!! erica and lucas deserved so much better, my god.

the last thing i'm going to say are the deaths (or lack thereof) were... bad. i was actually happy with brenner's death! i thought it was done well and it was very necessary (honestly, i thought the whole nina storyline was pretty good). i don't even think i need to talk about eddie's death because every third post on here is about why it sucked. i think the deaths felt so disappointing because the cast and crew had all been hyping up that this season there were going to be real deaths. like, main characters, not just killing off the newest character AGAIN (bob and alexie). we kind of needed a main character death! what happened to robin, steve, and nancy all getting strangled by vines for a solid half hour?? eddies death felt like a total cop out.

honestly, i need s5 to be good. i've seen some posts on my dash saying, "they've already started filming season five and they just had to cut this season short" (the noah in a harness photos). i hope so, man. i hope the reason this finale sucked was that they could not for the life of them figure out a good way to wrap this season up because they had such good wrap-ups planned for next season. i mean, there were parts of this season that were great! dear billy was incredible! it was a good comeback, they handled the gang being so split up pretty well, the plots were (mostly) good, and st lowkey never misses with it's music or villains. i just think the finale fucked up really bad, and i hope st redeems itself with this last season. i predict that there's not going to be much of a time jump between s4 and s5 like there is between most seasons because of what we saw happening in hawkins with the flowers and the dust, so hopefully it doesn't need a ton of exposition. ok, this is officially long as fuck but i don't care because i needed to rant!

[magniloquent-raven]

for fluff: "one more chapter" or "there's enough room for both of us"

it’s been 84 years............ but here u go lmao tysm for the prompts!!!!!! i used both!

CW for some brief suicidal ideation, just in case. it’s v mild but pls be careful yall (i know, this fic was supposed to be fluffy 😅)

posted on ao3

------

Billy’s life had changed a lot in the past two years. 

So much that some days he barely recognizes himself in the mirror. The scars, the state of his hair—which he hasn’t cut since last summer and generally just throws back for convenience’ sake—the stubble he doesn’t bother with most days. Small things, in the grander scheme of what’s different about his life, but it adds up.

And it’s Friday night, he’s curled up at home, and perfectly content to be there. 

There’s a steaming mug of cider on the coffee table (a scratched-up old thing that Hop left him when he officially handed off ownership of his trailer to Billy), and wind rattling the windows, and Max is asleep in the next room. It’s...cozy. 

El stopped by earlier that afternoon, Max in tow, demanding Billy let them stay because Mike was being a dick or a DnD campaign was going on too long and El’s character died a while back so she was bored, or...something. Possibly Mike was being a dick about her character being dead. Max kept chiming in with her own two cents worth but it really just made the whole thing harder to follow.

But it didn’t really matter why they stopped by, they’re always coming up with reasons to invade his living room and eat all his food and nag him about teaching them how to do fancy braids. And Max usually wanders off to nap in his room when El starts asking Billy to read to her.

Which is what he’s doing now. 

Last month he read her Jane Eyre (her idea). A week ago they started The Hobbit. 

It’s been slow going, considering how often El interrupts to ask questions, and every time there’s a song they have the same argument about him not actually singing, but they’re making progress. 

He’s reading through the weird goblin song as monotone as possible just so he can laugh at El’s disgruntled scrunchy face, and putting up with her poking his thigh with her toes when he rolls his eyes at her, and honestly having the time of his fucking life, because, yeah, saying things have changed in the past two years is the understatement of the decade.

When he gets to the end of Over Hill and Under Hill and closes the book she gasps dramatically, sitting up and pulling the ugly orange throw blanket (gift from Mrs. Byers) she’d been snuggled up in tighter around her shoulders.

“Billy, no!” 

He drops the book in his lap and raises his eyebrows at her. “It’s the end of the chapter.”

“No.”

“Yeah, it definitely is.”

El frowns at him, her whole face going pinched. “But you can’t stop there.”

It’s moments like this that almost make Billy forget she can kill people with her brain. Moments when she just looks like a kid, all wrapped up in her favourite blanket and pouting. 

And it’s like she knows that’s his goddamn kryptonite. Because those moments also remind him that she deserves this. More than anyone he knows, she deserves all the childish crap she wants, and more. It won’t ever replace the childhood that was taken from her, but it’s a start.

So, needless to say, Billy has a hard time saying no to her.

He drops his head back against the cushion behind him, staring at the ceiling for a moment—pretending to contemplate, while she glowers at him—and sighs loudly. 

“One more chapter.” 

She beams.

They’re only a few pages into Riddles in the Dark when a car pulls up, and Billy doesn’t even have time to put the book down before the front door bursts open. 

“El! Will thought he—is that The Hobbit?” Dustin comes to an abrupt halt two paces into the room, blinking at the book in Billy’s hands. All his little friends nearly collide with his back, and there’s suddenly a gaggle of obnoxious teenagers huddled in Billy’s doorway. 

“Who cares,” Lucas scoffs, pushing him out of the way so he, Wheeler, and Will, can shuffle the rest of the way inside. “Get out of the way!”

Billy is still trying to figure out what the fuck’s even happening when Steve goddamn Harrington walks in behind his pack of brats. Because of course he was the one who drove them here. Him being a fine upstanding citizen and all that. With nothing better to do, apparently. (Not that Billy has room to judge anymore.)

Suddenly the bickering kids are mostly background noise. Billy always did have a hard time concentrating on anything else when Steve’s in the room. Especially when he’s looking like that, warm brown eyes lit up with interest, and the corner of his mouth pulling upwards in a half-smile. His cheeks are pink from the chill outside, his hair a mess from the wind, and locking eyes with him makes Billy’s heart pound. 

They’ve been on good terms these past few months and it’s a special kind of torture that Billy wouldn’t give up for the fucking world.

But he doesn’t get to enjoy the view for long because—

“—the Mind Flayer might be back!”

Billy stiffens. “What?” He glances at El. She’s sitting up straight now, her eyes dark, expression closed off. 

Mike sighs irritably. “Weren’t you listening? Will thinks he might have sensed the Mind Flayer, so we needed to make sure El’s okay.” He crosses his arms, glaring at Billy. “Because the stupid thing wants her dead, remember?”

“Wheeler,” Steve hisses, and smacks the kid’s shoulder.

“Yeah.” Billy grits his teeth, cold fingers trailing down his spine. “I remember.” 

The room is silent for several agonizing seconds, the kids all exchanging glances. Until Billy’s bedroom door opens and Max shuffles out, rubbing her eyes. 

“What’s everyone doing here?” 

~~

They’d all been hanging out at Steve’s when Will had a bad feeling. The same kind of prickling bone-deep chill he’d gotten two summers ago. Needless to say, ignoring it until people started dying didn’t seem like the way to go this time, hence the home invasion.

Which had been Steve’s idea, apparently. Or. His initial reaction had been to blurt out does this mean Billy’s possessed again, and it had spiraled from there. To Mike freaking out about El not being safe because she was here, to Lucas reminding him that Billy had only gotten the better of her when she didn’t have powers, to Dustin yelling about checking in with her either way because she might have The Facts. 

And so they’d broken a couple traffic laws to get here.

Billy suspects Steve feels guilty about suggesting he might be possessed, because he got very awkward when it was brought up. And he stepped in several times when Wheeler and Sinclair’s interrogation got a little too intense (there were threats of hot pokers involved).

It should have felt condescending—Billy’s a grown-ass adult, he doesn’t need someone defending him from lanky teenagers—but he can’t help feeling a little warm when it’s Steve coming to his defense. 

The discussion overall is a mess. El doesn’t have any answers, Billy hasn’t felt anything odd lately, and the lack of anything to go on beyond Will having a momentary freakout is putting everyone on edge. 

Max, who squished herself onto the couch between Billy and El, cuts through the cyclical arguing after the third dramatic eye-roll from Mike. “Guys, can you cool it for a second. We’re getting nowhere.” Her protest is punctuated by a yawn, which makes El giggle. 

“She’s right,” Steve sighs, mussing with his hair absentmindedly. “Billy and El are fine, everyone’s fine, we should all get some sleep.”

“Dude, are you sure you’re good to drive?” Dustin asks, squinting appraisingly at Steve. It’s a fair question, it’s late and Steve looks like he’s about to keel over, but Billy’s not sure he likes where this is going.

“Who said anything about driving?” Max snorts, glancing at Billy. 

Damnit Max.

“Is there even space for everyone here? This place is tiny.”

“Fuck you, Wheeler, not all of us can live in goddamn mansions.”

The kid opens his mouth to retort, bristling with indignation, but Will interjects, stuttering a little in his haste, “I, um, I’d feel a little safer if everyone, you know, stayed in one place? At least for tonight?”

And that pretty much settles it. 

Once everyone mumbles their (in some cases reluctant) agreement, El crows “Sleepover!” and drags Max off to find spare blankets, leaving Billy sitting on the couch alone and wondering where the hell Steve is gonna sleep. For...no particular reason...other than…

Well.

It’s not like Mike was wrong, the trailer wasn’t built to house six teenagers and two twenty-somethings. Most of them are going to end up squished on the living room floor, and Max and El already called dibs on the couch, and...well, unless Steve wants to crash in the fucking kitchen there really isn’t anywhere else for him to go other than Billy’s room. He doesn’t even have a goddamn tub the guy could curl up in. 

And just because he’s wanted Steve Harrington in his bed since minute one, doesn’t mean he wants it right now. Not like this. 

Because like this he has to deal with Max’s side-eye, and El’s knowing look (the girl has been in his head, she literally knows everything about him), and Will’s weird wide-eyed interest, and worst of all, Steve not doing this because he wants to. 

In fact, judging by the way he blanches when Max suggests it, Billy’s room is the last place he’d like to be. Which is not really something Billy ever really wanted hard proof of, thanks. 

He’s dealt with enough in his life, he didn’t need to know exactly how repulsive Steve finds the idea of sleeping in the same room as him. 

“You’re welcome to sleep in your goddamn car if my floor isn’t good enough for you, Harrington,” he bites out, probably harsher than was warranted. 

Steve blinks at him, mouth falling open, eyebrows raised. 

“Oh my god, it’s too cold to sleep outside, Billy,” Max says, rolling her eyes. “Stop being such a dick.”

“Whatever,” he mutters. “Figure your shit out, I’m going to bed.” 

The silence he leaves behind is tense and awkward. 

He’s been laying in bed staring at the ceiling, moping and berating himself, for about ten minutes when the door creaks open.

“Hey, uh,” Steve’s voice is soft, uncertain, and Billy feels like even more of an asshole for snapping at him. “I’m just...gonna...crash on the floor. Um. Good night.”

This is punishment isn’t it. For being such a douche for so long. Now he gets to try and fall asleep knowing Steve fucking Harrington is laying nearby, sleepy and warm and out of reach. He listens to Steve shuffle around, getting situated, laying out blankets and trying to find a soft bit of carpet to lay on. Has to bite his tongue to keep from saying something stupid. Like offering up his bed. Or poking fun at how much Steve sighs when he’s getting comfortable (Because it’s dumb, not cute. Definitely not cute.).

It’s unclear how long they lay there in the dark, Billy watching moonlight cast the outlines of skeletal trees across the wall, listening to Steve’s quiet breathing to remind himself he’s not alone. That the shadows are just shadows and there’s no reason to be tense and sweating and—

Billy’s pretty sure it’s been long enough that Steve should be asleep, considering how tired he looked, so he tosses his blanket off and swipes the pack of cigarettes off his bedside table, hoping to god the floor doesn’t creak when he pads across the room. There’s no noise coming from the other room, so either the kids are asleep too or a miracle has occurred and they’re all just being really quiet. 

He slips out the side door, and takes a breath. The lake is too still, despite the wind. No self-respecting body of water doesn’t have waves. But it’s pretty enough, he supposes. Enough to make for a decent view while he smokes a cigarette.

Takes a couple tries to light up. His hands aren’t what they used to be, especially in the cold. Holding off a thirty-foot meat puppet bare-handed does that to a person, tears shit up that doesn’t heal right afterwards.

He’s about halfway through his cig when Steve joins him. Billy’s shoulders stiffen at the sound of footsteps, and he doesn’t relax at all when he realizes who it is. 

“Hey.”

Out of the corner of his eye Billy watches Steve lean against the porch railing beside him. He takes another drag before he looks over properly, keeping his expression as neutral as possible. “Fancy meeting you here.” 

“Couldn’t sleep?”

Billy raises his eyebrows. Gestures with his cigarette and turns away again. “No shit.”

He can feel Steve’s eyes on him, and he resolutely ignores it. Stares out at the water and flicks cigarette ash over the railing. The wind picks up again and cuts through his thin shirt. Should’ve grabbed a fucking sweater. Not because the cold bothers him at all, but...well, because it doesn’t anymore.

He shivers when a completely-unrelated-to-the-weather chill runs down his spine.

“Soo…” Steve fidgets, and trails off awkwardly, his nonchalance painfully fake.

The corner of Billy’s mouth twitches, and he raises his cigarette to his lips, a flimsy excuse to hide his smile. 

“Did, uh. Did El choose the book, or…?”

He chokes on a mouthful of smoke. Doc Owens did tell him he shouldn’t have taken up smoking again. Though he was probably more concerned about Billy’s scarred lungs and than Steve Harrington-related hazards. 

Coughing definitely does hurt a lot more than it used to though. 

He flinches when Steve touches his shoulder, pats it, rubs a little—trying to help with the coughing, presumably—making Billy’s heart trip over itself. 

Once he’s no longer wheezing he wipes his eyes, and waves off Steve’s apologies, hoping the embarrassed flush on his cheeks isn’t too visible in the dim light. 

Steve’s hand stays where it is.

For several quiet moments Billy waits for him to withdraw but he doesn’t, and Billy finally meets his eyes. Which was probably a mistake. His heart skips again. He’s still not used to Steve looking at him like that. Soft and wide-eyed and concerned and…

God, he’s so fucking beautiful. Billy used to dream about getting this close without needing pretense, without having to pretend, getting to bask in the warmth coming off him and feel his breath on his skin and see something other than indifference—or worse, the hatred that came later—looking back at him. What he has now is...not quite what he wants. It lights him up but leaves him wanting. 

Another gust of wind makes a mess of Steve’s hair, locks falling into his eyes and sticking up in all directions, and Billy itches. Clenches his fist to stop himself from fixing it.

“Her dweeby little friends kept talking about it, and she couldn’t get through it herself. So...” Billy trails off, scratching his cheek and glancing away. “I may have had a copy laying around.”

Steve’s hand finally leaves its perch on his shoulder—both a disappointment and a relief—to brush the stray locks of hair out of his face. He grins at Billy, whole face lit up and stupidly pretty even as his fingers get stuck in tangles. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” Billy bites the inside of his cheek. “My mom used to read it to me.” 

It’s easier to talk about her now. Mostly with El, who’s still the only person who knows the full story, but, well, he’s pretty sure at least Max and Steve have guessed the bits they weren’t told. Or, hell, maybe El told everyone everything during those months he was out of commission and everyone thought he was dead, and no one’s brought it up to his face because it would be awkward as hell. 

In any case, Steve’s expression softens. 

“Oh,” he says quietly. “So, you and her were pretty close, huh?”

If asked Billy would have blamed the sudden sting of tears in his eyes on the wind. “I guess.” A pause. “Not enough for her to take me when she left,” he mumbles, chewing his thumbnail and frowning out at the lake.

His cigarette hangs between two fingers in his other hand. 

“Billy…”

“Don’t. I’ve heard every condolence in the book, okay. It’s...it’s fine.”

For several long moments the only sounds are the dry rustle of leaves in the wind and Billy’s nail-biting. 

Then Steve slips his fingers around Billy’s wrist and tugs gently. Too surprised to resist, Billy lets him. Lets his hand be pulled away from his face, thumb pressed to his pulsepoint, lets him hold on for a beat longer than necessary before letting go. And Billy stares at him the whole time, lips parted, shoulders tense, waiting to see what Steve will do next.

What he does next is smile a little sad, and tilt his head. “It’s a bad habit, you know. Biting your nails.” 

“I don’t have any other kind of habit.”

“Hm,” Steve hums, “I don’t think that’s true.” 

Which is a weird thing to say, and a weird thing to get emotional over, and yet Billy kind of feels like he’s been punched in the chest.

He rubs at the knotted scar tissue that spiderwebs across his whole torso, and can’t help but wonder—not for the first time—if Steve’s perception of him might be a little blinded by the one good thing he’s ever done. He’s tried to be better since then, atone a little, but Steve’s confidence in him still feels unearned.

And all the work he’s put into getting his shit together might all be for nothing anyways, if some fucking slime monster decides to crawl down his throat again. If Will’s right and that thing is back...for all he knows the thing has it out for him too, after the shit he pulled at Starcourt. He thought he’d end up dead, he wasn’t exactly worried about making himself a target in the long run. 

But now...

Billy exhales slowly through his nose, eyes falling shut for a moment before he grits out, “I can’t do it again.” Steve blinks at him, nonplussed. “This,” he taps his scars, “The fucking. Mind Flayer bullshit. I can’t.”

“You…” Steve folds his arms across his stomach, hands clutching his elbows. It’s a nervous tic that makes Billy ache. Always makes his heart clench, but tonight that gets lost in the black hole of anxiety already twisting up his insides  “You won’t have to, I—we’ll protect you. If we stick together—”

“It’s not a guarantee.”

“No, but—”

“We don’t know anything about this alien shit, for all we know I was never really free of it, and—I just—promise you won’t let it use me again,” Billy’s voice breaks, and he clenches his jaw to try and hold it all back, the taste of bile in the back of his throat, the crushing weight of existential panic pressing in. 

Steve’s eyes widen, “What do you mean by that?”

“You know what I mean. Crash another car into me. Let your ex shoot me in the fucking head. I don’t care how, I need you to stop me.” He needs to understand, Billy’s eyes bore into him, willing him to understand.

But he shakes his head, face twisted up with horror, “I don’t think I can do that.”

Billy takes a step towards him, desperation bleeding into his voice, “Steve.” He blinks back tears. “Please.” 

“Don’t—” Steve looks away, curling in on himself, “Don’t do that.”

“Do what, ask you to perform a public fucking service?” Billy spits, eyes stinging, face burning. He regrets the words once they’re spoken, but there’s no taking them back now. He’s talked with Owens about this sort of shit and he thought he was past it. 

Apparently not.

He deflates. Like a slap in the face, it stops him dead, turns his agonizing back inward where it fucking belongs. Wiping his eyes, he sighs. 

It’s too late to stop the puppy-dog eyes Steve’s giving him now though. The unreserved sadness in the way he’s looking at Billy is so overwhelming it’s almost palpable. “Is that really how you feel?”

Is it? He’s not sure anymore. It was for a long time. Long enough that he couldn’t remember feeling any other kind of way until El reminded him. But now…

He shrugs. “It’s...complicated. I—ah, shit!” His hand jerks, and the cigarette he’d been holding falls to the ground. That never used to hurt so fucking much. “Damn thing burnt me.” 

He sucks on the stinging knuckle, waiting for the pain to subside, tasting salt and ash, and looks back up at Steve.

They lock eyes.

Steve’s expression has closed off, his gaze still heavy, but with something else, sliding down Billy’s face with an intensity Billy’s not quite sure what to make of. He’s struck dumb by the attention (not something he usually has a problem handling), lips still wrapped around his finger but his mouth has gone slack.

It feels like a static shock, one crackling jolt of a moment, something sharp lancing through him, and then it’s over. Steve’s blinking, glancing away. Billy’s hand falls to his side. It would be like it never happened except he still feels charged, pent up, heart full to bursting and stomach in knots. 

Billy sighs, and rubs his eyes. “Let’s just...go back to bed.”

Wording, Billy. Wording. His cheeks warm a little, but he manages to keep his expression neutral as he turns and heads back inside.

He practically throws himself into his bed, curling up on his side and pulling the blankets around him, back turned to Steve. Sleep seems like a pipe dream at this point, but doing anything other than pretending to get some rest would involve talking to and/or looking at Steve, so. Not an option. 

But after he listens to Steve settle back into his little pile of blankets, the minutes crawl by, and Billy gets twitchy. Wants so badly to move, toss and turn and fidget, and say something, but doesn’t know where to start and doesn’t want to draw Steve’s attention, and—

God, this is so fucking stupid.

Billy rolls over. “Steve.”

“Yeah?” 

The room is silent for a beat. He shuffles around a little and the sheets rustle loudly in the quiet.  

“Would you get up here,” he says suddenly, all at once, demanding, scarcely believing what the fuck is coming out of his mouth. 

“...What?” Steve sounds a little breathless and it makes Billy’s stomach clench.

“Just...there’s enough room for both of us, alright.” Jesus christ. 

The lump of Steve and blankets on the floor doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak, for what seems like an eternity, and Billy’s about to brush it off, turn it into a joke, take it back, something, when—

“Okay.”

Oh.

What?

Oh god, he’s getting up. This is happening. Billy stares at his silhouette, the tense line of his shoulders, his awkward gait, and wonders why he’s agreeing to this if he’s so goddamn uncomfortable. 

Guess the floor is officially less comfortable than being in bed with Billy. Joy.

But then he’s sliding under the covers and Billy forgets to be bitter because his brain is mostly static at this point. White noise and his heartbeat thundering in his ears and the deafening creak of boxspring groaning under unexpected weight.

And Steve’s doing that thing again, sighing, little hums as he wiggles around getting himself situated, and Billy is dying. He thought he was being punished before, but now he’s sure, because this is ridiculous. No grown man should be that adorable. 

By the time he’s gotten himself comfy Billy is about ready to combust. 

It doesn’t help that he’s decided to lay down extremely close and facing Billy. It’s so intimate it hurts.

“Do you think you’ll actually sleep?”

Billy shrugs noncommittally. “Maybe.” He tries to make it sound more casual than it is. Like it’s a choice and not the sad fact that he’s too fucking anxious to relax. 

Seems he’s not the only one though, Steve keeps fidgeting, his face doing something weird Billy can’t quite see in the gloom. But he doesn’t have to see to recognize Steve’s tics.

“Spit it out,” Billy sighs.

“What did you mean. When you said it’s complicated?” Steve asks softly.

Ah.

“You really wanna get into this?” He sure doesn’t, but Steve nods and Billy’s fucking weak when it comes to giving Steve what he wants. “I meant that...I...used to feel like that. All the time. It was fucking relentless.” He thinks about rolling onto his back so he won’t have to look at Steve for this, but finds himself stuck, drawn in by the faint starlight reflected in Steve’s eyes. “But nowadays I’ve got...shit to hang on for, I guess. Doesn’t make it all go away, but it makes it easier.”

“Oh.” Steve wriggles a little closer, his hand landing in the space between their pillows. Right next to Billy’s hand. Close enough that he can feel him there, but not quite touching.

He doesn’t say anything else, which Billy’s grateful for. He’s got Doc Owens for the big speeches about how life is worth living, and it’s grating enough getting them from someone who’s literal job is to say that kind of shit. 

It helps. It does. But he can only handle so much.

Speaking of which.

“I’m sorry,” Billy says quietly. He’s keeping his hand too still for it to come across as casual, trembling with the effort. If he moved his pinky just a little they’d be touching, and he’s painfully aware of this fact.

“What for?”

“Earlier, when I...I was asking for a lot.”

“Oh.” Steve shifts, the blankets rustling as he shuffles around, but as much as he fidgets, his hand stays where it is. “Billy...I don’t want you to have to go through that again, but…”

Billy, on an impulse—with a feeling somewhat akin to stepping off a ledge without a parachute—hooks his pinky over Steve’s. In the dark he hears a soft intake of breath, can just barely make out the way Steve’s mouth falls open, moonlight casting shadows when his tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

“I know. It wasn’t fair to—”

“No, no,” Steve flips his palm upward and laces their fingers together, squeezing Billy’s hand. “It’s not that. You have every right to be scared, and...look, this whole thing is batshit crazy, none of us know how to deal with it.” 

Billy runs his thumb along the length of Steve’s index finger, marvelling at the contact, and the way his pulse flutters when the gesture is returned. It takes him a second to find his voice, “True, but you’ve never asked me to mercy kill you.”

Steve exhales, the ghost of a laugh, and it warms the back of Billy’s hand. He shivers, his whole arm tingling. “Billy, I haven’t gone through half the shit you have.” A pause. “I want to help. Anything you need, just...not that.” 

Anything. It catches in Billy’s throat, stops his heart for just a second, reminds him that they’re inches apart, in bed together. For the second time tonight he feels like he’s been punched in the sternum, and he goes rigid, relaxing only minutely when Steve squeezes his hand again.

“Careful, pretty boy. Saying shit like that might give a guy ideas,” he murmurs, gaze searching, wandering Steve’s face, the shadows cast by the soft fall of hair across his forehead.

“Oh yeah?” Steve pulls their clasped hands to his chest. His heart is racing, but his voice is steady, “Well, have enough ideas with no follow-through and a guy might think you’re all talk.”

Billy’s breath catches. The world stops. “You...you don’t want me to follow through.” 

The reality of the situation hits him like a train. Flirting is one thing, he’s always had a hard time keeping his mouth shut around Steve, but this is something he’d only ever regretted letting himself imagine because he knew he’d never have it. And now that it’s within reach...

“See, the thing is…” Steve slides a little closer. His knee brushes Billy’s thigh. “I really, really do.”

“I—” his voice breaks, mouth dry, throat closing up as he tries to swallow past the lump making it hard to breathe. 

“Billy,” Steve whispers, a hot puff of air against Billy’s lips. “Please.”

Fuck.

He surges forward—hard enough that their teeth click together—and his mouth muffles Steve’s gasp. The hand not cradled against Steve’s chest comes up to touch his cheek, fingertips caressing his jaw, coaxing him closer, sliding back to thread into his hair. 

Steve’s lips are plush and warm against his, curved into a smile that leaves Billy tingling, dizzy and drunk on sensations. The way his mouth tastes, the softness of his skin under Billy’s scarred palm, the way his heart twists when Steve reaches out to touch his chest.

He pulls back, and rests his forehead against Steve’s. His eyes stay shut and he just breathes. Soaks up the moment. 

“God,” Steve sighs, nuzzling their noses together. “Always knew you’d be good at that.”

“Yeah?” Billy asks quietly, fiddling with the stray locks of hair behind Steve’s ear. He’s feeling...raw. Vulnerable. It’s a fragile state of being, one wrong word away from breaking. Or a few right words away from fucking bliss, but that never seems to be how it goes for him. 

“Yeah, even when we didn’t like each other I wondered. Annoyed the hell outta me.”

“Steve…” He pauses, choosing his words carefully, “I always liked you.”  If his heart wasn’t already racing, it sure would be now. He braces himself for the worst.

But it doesn’t come. There’s a pause. Steve’s fingers curl into the front of his shirt. “Oh.” He presses a chaste kiss to Billy’s lips, lingering, before chuckling lightly. “That explains a lot actually.”

Billy’s cheeks burn. Yeah, he supposes it would. “You’re not...freaked out?” he ventures, hesitant. 

“Mm, nope.” He reaches up, brushes a stray curl out of Billy’s face. “Definitely okay with this.”

I love you.

The thought doesn’t shock him but the desire to say it out loud does. The way it lodges itself in his throat and sticks. He hasn’t said it to anyone—hasn’t wanted to say it to anyone—since his mother left. The precedent is intimidating, but…

Steve smells like honey and clean air, laying in bed with Billy, warm and pliant next to him tracing patterns in Billy’s scars, his gaze is fond, his smile is soft, and...and Billy’s in love.

He swallows. Pushes it down for now. 

He kisses Steve again. Slower. A gentle press of mouths, and another. Takes his time deepening it, teasing with his tongue. He waits for Steve to pull away, to decide that this thing is one thing too far, but it never happens. Steve lets him escalate, and gives as good as he gets. 

They’re both breathless and flushed and Billy’s riding high on the bubbling warmth in his chest, lightheaded from it. He slides his leg over Steve’s, straddling his thigh, pressing down, seeking friction. 

He shifts, rocking forward a little, and Steve moans, low and deep right in Billy’s ear.

They both freeze. Steve’s breath coming in ragged little bursts against the side of Billy’s face. 

“Pretty boy, as much as I’d love to hear more of that, no one else in the house does.”

“Jesus christ.”

“No need to bring him into it.”

“Shut up,” Steve laughs and buries his face in Billy’s shoulder. “Just give me a minute.”

“Aw, I get you all riled up, baby?” 

Steve slides a hand down, down, and palms Billy’s cock, drawing a short gasp from him. “Yes.”

They stay entangled the rest of the night, dozing in and out of consciousness, Steve pressing the occasional sleepy kiss to Billy’s collarbone. And...Billy’s not sure what will happen after tonight, but he knows it’ll be easier to deal with if he gets to keep this. Whatever this is. He doesn’t have the heart to ask, not yet, but for the first time in a while, he has hope.

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

Ah thank you for answering my Stommy ask i loved it a lot. Can i get some more Stommy.

Okay so like what if Tommy finally sees what Steve's doing with the kids amd the mindflayer and acts like he's down to help and he is he wants to help steve.

But at the same time he has a bit of a breakdown infront of everyone and his whole bad boy persona drops and he's scared he didn't expect this, he didn't believe in anything like this before and he doesn't understand how steve does it.

Can i get some Johnathan being sympathetic to Tommy and sort coming to an understanding with him, and they get eachother, (i like to think that Tommy isn't rich like steve and is more like the byers than everyone thought. Like he comes from a broken home and all the fancy clothes he gets from steve)

Ooo and some tommy and johnathan being like ugh "rich people"

Will and Tommy moment though where will is like :O and Tommy takes him under his wing like Steve did with Dustin

Whoa this is long. Im so sorry. I hope you have a good day.

stommy for sure. thanks, hun!

===

He didn’t expect it to happen. He never really did, he would get a call from Hopper or Joyce or Dustin usually. Cancel everything and go play near death whack-a-mole for a few hours. He’s gotten real good at it at this point. Tommy was suspicious, started asking questions.

“Where are you going off to?” he’d shown up at the Harrington house. Steve wouldn’t let him in, his bag of monster hunting supplies and his stained nail bat poking out prominently. “Or do you have someone in there with you?” Tommy moved his head around to search behind Steve’s shoulders.

“No, Tom,” Steve put his hands up, “Some stuff just came up. An emergency.”

“Is your mother in the hospital? Is your father back home and he’s sending you out for errands so he can invite his side chick over—“

Steve leaned against the doorway, unamused, “—Come on, Tom, that’s not funny.”

But Tommy didn’t stop, “—Is Dustin sick? What’s so important that you had to cancel twice on me this week? Huh!” Steve closed his eyes for a brief moment, collecting his bearings. He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

“Look,” he slowly took Tommy’s hand, the other watching with clear suspicion. “I would much rather stay in with you and watch your stupid drama movies.” The other’s face twisted a little but he listened. “Hopper needs me right now, important, top secret, emergency.” He squeezed Tommy’s fingers a little with every accentuated word. “It’s best that you don’t know, you’re safer that way.” He had hoped that would get Tommy to back off. Wishful thinking.

Tommy shook his head and crossed his arms defiantly, “I’m coming with you for sure now. You don’t get to keep things like this from me now. No secrets.” Steve opened his mouth but Tommy pinched his arm, interrupting him. “No secrets! Okay? You don’t get to go risk yourself, or whatever you’re implying, and leave me in the dark!” Tommy stomped his foot and Steve had the mind to assume he’d been paying attention to all his sisters way of dealing with their own boyfriends. Tommy cupped both sides of his cheeks when Steve sighed. “I am your boyfriend,” he made Steve look at him. Tommy looked concerned, face wrinkled and cheeks pale. “I deserve to know.”

His shoulders sank as he gave in, “You’re not going to like it. Probably won’t even believe it.”

Tommy glared, “Try me.”

Steve went back into the house and grabbed his bag. Tommy quickly noticed the bat, obvious about it with his wide eyes not meeting Steve’s own and instead on the spikes peaking out over his shoulder. He didn’t ask yet though. Instead, he followed Steve all the way to the BMW and then got in the passenger side.

Steve looked over at Tommy sitting rigidly before starting the ignition. There were intense lines between his eyebrows and his lips were being abused by him biting them. He started gnawing on his fingernails when Steve made a decision.

He stepped out quick and Tommy startled, “Where are you going now?”

Steve leaned back in, antsy, “I’m going to get you a weapon.” Tommy looked like he desperately wanted to ask, Steve waited, but Tommy just sat back with his leg bouncing. He sighed again and Tommy glanced over at the noise. “You don’t have to come. It’d be better if you just stayed here until I get back.” Tommy folded his arms, leg still going up and down due to the weight of his hand not lessening it.

“Like hell I am,” he grumbled, “Go get me something if it’s so necessary.” Steve’s shoulders and ankles were tense and locked a little in place. This wasn’t going to end well even if Tommy believe him. He wasn’t supposed to add anyone else to the group. All he had as an excuse was Tommy’s unrelenting behavior and how immediate and stressed Hopper had sounded when he called. The excuse that maybe more help was necessary.

So Steve went to the shed and found a chain. A long iron chain that his father had used to hold the fence gate between theirs and the neighbors’ yards shut. He went back to the car with it in hand. When he sat back down Tommy stared wonderingly at it. Steve dropped it in his lap, the sound heavy as it slipped slowly to the car floor and clanked together.

“Can you still lasso?” he asked quietly. Didn’t want to trigger Tommy into some spell of hysterics.

Tommy swallowed and his eyes grew even more serious than before, “Yeah, yeah I can still lasso.”

Steve looked from the chain to Tommy’s face a few times, “Can you do to the same with that as you can a rope if we need you to?” He’d seen Tommy lasso, done some himself in the summers on the Hagan farm. Their small farm that housed loads of milk cows. It was a nice escape, mostly outdoors and their house was rundown only a little. Obviously warn from love and family and sweet time. Something real against the Harrington’s artificial capsule.

Tommy nodded again, “I can make it work.” When Steve didn’t catch Tommy’s eye for another minute or so, he started out to the Byers’ house. He could tell Tommy was trying to pay attention to the route but he kept messing with the chain. Steve knew he was forming it around to form the lasso correctly. Had seen Tommy sit on a bale of hay and mess with a rope the same way.

They pulled up to the dusty driveway and Tommy finally looked up with recognization, “Who exactly is involved in all this?”

Steve parked and neither of them moved, “Well, we’ve got all the Byers, Mike and Nancy Wheeler, Lucas Sinclair, Dustin, and Hopper”

Tommy glared over at him and opened his door, “What kind of shit have you gotten yourself into?”

Steve only smiled thinly and he stepped out to grab his bag from the backseat before heading up to the door. Hopper was smoking and watched him as Tommy slowly gathered his chain.

“What did you do now?” Hopper didn’t sound surprised.

Steve could only shrug, “He insisted.”

Hopper took a drawn out puff, “Well you should have resisted.”

Steve turned his neck to glimpse as Tommy closing the car door, “You trying resisting a Hagan and then get back to me.”

Hopper raised a brow and flicked the ash off the filter, “Just keep him by you and make sure he doesn’t get hurt. I don’t want to have to explain to his parents.”

Steve rubbed his upper arm as Tommy walked up to his side, “Why would I get hurt? And what’s wrong with my parents?” he ordered defensively.

Hopper sighed and squished the cherry out in an outdoor ashtray balanced on the porch railing, “Nothing, kid. Your father just doesn’t like me.”

Tommy muttered something Steve only just barely caught, “You just can’t leave an innocent drunk man alone on a Friday night.”

“What’s that?” Hopper’s eyes narrowed. Tommy folded his arms and didn’t respond, only shook his head once.

Steve looked between the two. He knew Tommy’s father liked to drink sometimes. Mostly after a long day working on harvesting hay bales and tending to their cows. Knew his mother and Tommy’s sisters hated when he did. Tommy didn’t know how to feel, got mad at Steve when he tried to sympathize. A few of their fights had ended in Tommy throwing the fact that Steve’s father was never really around back in his face. Yelling he wouldn’t understand. Couldn’t. Not the same way.

“What’s the code?” he asked to break the heavy tensions, to at least try. Instead a new sort of shadow surrounded them.

“Orange,” Hopper took his hat off and rubbed his forehead, “Looks like more strays are picking off cattle at night. We need to go catch them.”

Tommy perked up, “Cattle? So you do know what’s been picking our calves off?” he shouted. “What is it? Why are you hiding it from the town? Us farmers!” He was livid and when Steve touched his arm to comfort, it was whacked away. He stepped back, a bit betrayed. The adrenaline in Tommy must have picked up already. He only acted like this when he was wound up tight and angry. Hopper was silent for a long moment as Tommy huffed his breaths in and out, upset.

He turned around to the house and said, “You’re about to find out,” before the door opened and closed.

“What is going on, Harrington?” Tommy asked, desperate now. Desperate for answers he hadn’t asked for. Made Steve annoyed that he allowed himself to get pent up again. Out of control of himself, the opposite of what they’d been working on. He took Tommy’s hands gently, at least thankful for Tommy allowing that much.

“I need you to take a few deep breaths, Sweetheart,” he used his calm tone. Used it for the kids when they got too scared sometimes. “This isn’t going to get any easier, so if you want to step out, do it now.” He waited and Tommy didn’t move, didn’t really do anything besides stare at him. “Is that a no?”

“I’m not leaving,” Tommy stated stubbornly.

“No one would think any less of you,” Steve said deeply, “We all wish we didn’t have to deal with this shit. You can go back home, you wouldn’t be able to tell people about this. The government will confiscate you otherwise.”

Tommy scoffed, “So my father isn’t some crazy conspiracy theorist.” Steve didn’t answer, didn’t really want to, didn’t think he needed to.

“It’s scary, Tom.”

Tommy puffed out his chest, “I don’t care. I’m staying with you and that’s final.”

The door opened and Dustin started yelling, “Son of a bitch, why is he here, Steve? Get your ass in here, we need to start planning!” Steve turned and Dustin started attempting to drag him up the porch. “We’ve got target on three different farms tonight.” He stopped and Steve almost tripped on the last stop. He asked Tommy, “Dont you live on one?”

Tommy’s shoulders rose, “What’s it to you?” Dustin glanced at Steve, who was giving a warning glance, shrugged his shoulders and headed inside again.

Steve grabbed the door and held it open for Tommy, “Come on then!” Tommy ran up and into the house, the warm waft of heat blown into their faces. Joyce met them first, Dustin rushing back into the other room.

She eyes Tommy worriedly, “Did you tell him anything yet?” Steve shook his head. She wasn’t mad, she instead waved then in more, “Well then we have quite a bit to catch you up then, huh?” she smiled welcoming. Walked them in through to where everyone was already staring over a map of Hawkins. Red circles around what Steve assumed were the farms being threatened.

Nancy’s face twisted, “What’s up with this?” she gestured to Tommy and his chain clutched in his fist.

“He wants in,” Steve shrugged and stepped forward to look at the map between Hopper and Dustin, “Not like we couldn’t use the help.”

Nancy scowled, “We can manage.”

“Yeah,” Mike butted in.

Steve glared at her, “Let it go, Nance. He’s here and that’s it, please.” She looked at Johnathan but John looked at Tommy just as openly as his mother had.

“You know how to throw that?” he looked at the dark chain links.

Tommy nodded and pointed to the west circle, “That’s my farm. Well, my dad’s.” He looked sheepish, like he was admitting something.

“Cool,” Steve heard Will whisper.

Johnathan smiled more just as Nancy’s frown deepened, “Didn’t know you were in the lower levels like us.” Tommy frowned and Nancy scolded John with a slap to the arm. “It’s just cool is all,” he defended himself from her onslaught.

Tommy grew confused, “Cool?”

John nodded, “Tuff,” he grinned. Tommy smirked and eased down, comfortably joining Steve by his side.

“So do I get the backstory or what?” Everyone else looked at Hopper.

The man rolled his eyes but relented, “Keep up,” he pointed at Tommy gruffly. The boy nodded and Steve planted a grounding hand on his shoulder. “When Will went missing he was actually trapped in a different dimension. There’s El, who isn’t here right now, she was an experiment.” His voice with filled with distaste. “ She has powers, telekinesis. She’s resting right now so she can—“

“Which is stupid,” Mike snapped, “She’s not ready—“ Lucas and Dustin elbowed him to shut him up.

Hopper didn’t even look at the kids, “She’s getting ready to fight the bigger problem, the mindflayer. Something that likes possessing people. Watch out for that,” he tipped his hat back. “But there are big dogs from that other dimension sneaking in like your average coyote onto farms. So we have to go out and clean them out.” Steve eyed Tommy’s face which was stoney. Hopper turned back to the table and map when he fingered Tommy had at least taken all of what he said in through his ears to process eventually. “We’re hitting it by groups. Joyce and I will go to Merrill’s. Nancy, Johnathan, Will, and Mike are going to Tinnerman’s. Steve, Tommy, Dustin, and Lucas are at Hagan’s. Got that?” he looked around. When no one disagreed he backed away.

Steve took his bag off and set it on top of the map, “You still have that tire iron?” he asked Dustin as he took out his lighter.

“Yep,” the kid nodded, “Still behind the house, I’ll go get it,” he ran off.

Steve only had to look at Lucas for an answer, “Got my pockets full of rocks and marbles this time.”

Steve smiled small but assuring, “Good.”

Everyone walked off to retrieve their own weapons or start their own vehicles. Except Steve and Tommy. Tommy was pale and his eyes were greyish.

“Hey,” Steve rubbed a thumb across his freckled cheek, “What’s going on in your head?” he whispered.

Tommy looked up and took in a shaky breath, “I’m ready to kill some monsters?” The questioning tone didn’t surprise Steve, the words did though. He didn’t ask, didn’t want to over work Tommy’s mind already. Not when they still had a long night ahead.

===

The Hagan property was the smallest of the three Hawkins farms. Fencing behind them that was meant to keep cattle on grounds, then a big barn, then the Hagan house. But it wasn’t meant to be called “small” either. The cattle were safe in the barn as long as they all stayed attentive and ready to kill off any demodog invaders. Simple, all in a days work. But Tommy was shaking like a leaf and Steve heard rustling from their right.

He stepped ahead a few steps just as Dustin and Lucas yelled out at the shadow creeping out of the trees. Tommy cursed loudly, so much so Steve feared Tommy’s mother would wake from it all the way in the house. He swung his bat to stabilize himself and then went to town on the thing’s neck, back, and head. It went down quick and others started coming out more and more. Lucas slung-shot his own ammunition and Dustin kept them back with Steve’s lighter and a can of hairspray.

“Can you get that one, Tom?” he shouted over the growls of a new dog as one ran past him to the fence.

It was a pretty quick success all things considering. The carcasses laid around Steve in wide diameter, gunk sprung all over the grass and tree bark. But as silence carried no more sounds carried out from the darkness.

He faced the group, Dustin parking things back into Steve bag and pulling out water bottles. Lucas was trying to wipe the sweat from his face.

Then Steve caught sight of Tommy standing still. Too still. He panicked.

“Tom?” he whisper yelled as he ran up to him. Grabbed his arms and then his head, “Tommy, are you alright?” Tommy’s pale face reflected streaks of luminescent tracks in the moonlight. His eyes looked frozen wide. “Hey,” he wiped away the tears with his thumbs and made Tommy make eye contact. Which seems to blow him out of his stupor. He started breathing sporadically. Steve hugged him and started breathing in and out exaggeratedly. “Match me, Sweetheart,” he whispered. Breathed in and waited as Tommy matched it. Exhaled and patiently listened.

By the time Tommy was lax against him, exhausted and adrenaline all gone, Steve had decided they were done. He snapped his fingers to grab Lucas and Dustin’s attention.

“Yo, call Hopper and see what they’re up to, please,” he threw one of Tommy’s arms over his shoulders. Started leading them back to his car a little ways away. Tommy wouldn’t speak, Steve had the mind to assume he was in shock. Knew the feeling himself. But the amount Tommy was still partially immobile on his own was concerning. “Can you signal to me how your feeling, Tommy? What can I do for you?” he asked as he opened the car door and worked his boyfriend into the passenger seat. He knelt on the wet road, his jeans getting damp at the knees.

Tommy finally made eye contact on his own and pressed his lips together, “That was scary.” Steve nodded understandingly. Tommy continued, “This is fucked,” he sat back and forcibly enclosed Steve hand in between his own. Steve distantly heard Dustin yapping to someone on the walkie talkie. “How do you all do it?” he asked exasperatedly. He deflated and shook his head, lost, “How do you do it all? You were amazing back there, didn’t hesitate or flinch.”

Steve smiled and leaned up to give Tommy a kiss to the cheek, “No one is going to be upset with you Tommy. We don’t even have to mention it. The important thing is,” he stepped back, “That we’re all safe and the dogs are done with.”

“But—“

“We won’t hold it against you,” he promised and Tommy closed his mouth slowly. Nodding in agreement a little reluctantly.

Dustin was messing with the dials on the walkie when he left Tommy there, “I’m gonna go clean the mess up, you two get in the car and wait.

Lucas stepped up though, “I’ll help.” Steve gave him a look but he persisted, “Please?”

He rolled his eyes, “I guess you’d be better help than Dustin.”

“Hey!” the other scolded.

Lucas flicked him, “Please, you gag every time the goo gets on you.”

“I wonder why!” Dustin called back as he got into the car with Tommy.

===

It was a few weeks later and Tommy was a little more comfortable in the Party and their occasional missions to take out other dimensional monsters. Tommy was good with the chain when he wasn’t completely petrified. Caught and wrangled multiple dogs out of the way on occasions. Sure he stopped out a few time but they didn’t fight him about it. Knew he knew what he couldn’t handle.

He was teaching Will a thing or two now. They each sat on logs in the Byers’ backyard with ropes in their hands and on their laps. Steve watched as he leaned against the back door doorframe with Joyce. Johnathan had tried to follow along but had quickly knotted his bad. Had encouraged them both instead as Tommy directed Will step by step.

Then, Steve joined them as they worked on tossing and capturing low tree branches. Tommy lassoed them all and Steve got some. But Will grew his skills fast apparently because he was right behind Tommy, grasping all the practicing targets with concentrated ease.

Tommy fist bumped the kid and Steve used his height to pull the rope back down, “Good job, Byers!”

“I was actually good at it,” Will beamed proudly. Tommy slung an arm over Wills shoulders and headed towards the house as Joyce called for dinner.

“You know, you should come take Steve’s place on the farm over the summer.” Will bounced on the souls of his feet a bit at the excitement and giggled when Steve scoffed dramatically.

“I’m just rusty.”

Tommy chuckled, “Come on, Byers One and Byers Two, let’s leave the Rich Boy to clean up.” Will laughed and followed him loyally.

Johnathan stood with a definite nod, “Agreed.” Steve stopped to watch them race to the house like they were all young boys.

Tommy fit in just fine.

[hargrove-mayfields]

Through the Lonely Throng

It’s impossible to sleep at night with so much noise.

The woods in Hawkins are filled with it, and from his window in the white house at 5280 Cherry Lane, Billy Hargrove can hear every last screeching katydid and snapping branch and the leaves rustling so loud when the wind blew.

Things were so much different back home in San Francisco, where the sounds of the night were distant and more like white noise. Then he could hear distant cars, their tires smooth on pavement, and the sounds of the ocean if he listened hard enough. He missed that more than anything.

Indiana was so much more, suffocating. The noise overwhelmed him in a way the bustling city life of Cali never had, and he knew that didn’t make a whole lot of sense. But it did to him, in a city that was actually made up of more than middle of nowhere neighborhoods and a few corner stores, he had his room to breathe. There was freedom in having somewhere to hide.

There used to be places to go when he couldn’t stand to be alone or when he needed to be, there was always an escape. He supposed that was why they moved here, so his father could keep better tabs on him, so he wouldn’t have the liberty he did in a developed city.

Now in Hawkins, he was just stuck, all the time, nowhere to go but back home again. Every single day was the same old thing without anything to do, and it was wearing down on him. He missed the life he used to have, missed his friends and the distractions and his fucking mom. Indiana was the last place on earth he wanted to be.

Everytime Billy thought there might be a silver lining, anything at all to look forward to, his hopes were shattered again like glass when you dropped it, only he never seemed to hit the ground. Constantly in a downward spiral since he’d stepped foot in this shithole town, his life had gotten so far out of his own control.

He’d already done so many things he regretted, but the thing was, he felt like he’d been watching from the backseat as it happened. The isolation and torment of the new way he’d been forced to live was breaking him down piece by piece, and everyday he became more and more like his dear old dad.

Staring out the window by his bed, a plume of smoke drifting up towards the twinkling stars from a cigarette between his fingers, he felt so, so uneasy. With himself, for all that he’d done, and the people he’d hurt, with his father, for uprooting him and putting him in this tiny box, deliberately bringing out the nastiest parts of his temper, and fucking Hawkins, for keeping him cornered and taking away everything he ever held dear.

The tears on his cheeks weren’t a surprise, he’d always been a stupidly emotional person, no matter how tough he tried to be. His momma told him that meant he was strong, that any boy who wasn’t afraid to show his emotions was very brave. Look where that got him.

Speaking of his momma, she’d been on his mind a lot lately. The idea that, had she not just drove off without him he wouldn’t be here now, it haunted him. He could’ve been happy, if she’d chosen him, chosen her baby over a life of freedom. She’d said once over the phone that she’d come back when he was older, that you couldn’t run fast enough with an eight year old, but that she wouldn’t forget him.

There’s a few months left until his eighteenth birthday, and he hasn’t heard a word from her since.

So much for dreams of a dramatic rescue, for the hope that his mom would come back for him and swoop him away from the arms of his abuser. Tough shit, kid.

Even if she had stayed, he knows in his heart things wouldn’t be any different. Except for maybe that Neil probably would’ve murdered the both of them by now if complacent little Susan hadn’t come along. Maria Hargrove was a fighter. Susan Mayfield took whatever was coming without complaint. Funny how he hated them both anyways.

Sometimes he thinks about how they’re victims too, how not everything that happens is their fault, but then he remembers the look on his mother’s face as she walked out the front door for the last time, or the way Susan would ignore him when he was injured, going about her day, picking up dishes and folding laundry while he lay on the floor with boot shaped bruises up and down his body. Of his mother’s tone of voice when she picked up the phone after she abandoned her son, or the way Susan would inform on what he’d been doing no matter the consequence just to stay in good graces with her husband.

Like hell did those women deserve it, but did he either?

Was it fair that, since he was just eight years old, he’d been being beaten and battered and abused in every way by anyone and everyone who got close to him? Did the fact that Maria got hit a few times make it okay to subject her son to the daily torture he faces just for existing? Does Susan’s fear excuse turning a blind eye to what she knows her husband does behind closed doors?

But does his own hurt make it okay to bully his step-sister and her friends? No, it doesn’t.

His excuse is that he’s scared.

Scared for Susan, as much as he hates to admit it, that one day Neil will get bored of beating him up and move on to his dainty little wife. Woman like her wouldn’t be able to take his punches, and if she couldn’t stand up for her step son, she definitely wouldn’t stand up for herself.

He’s scared for his friend Tommy, because he’s been seen spending too much time around him, and his dad is getting suspicious. Thinks that just because they hang around each other there must be something going on. Whether it was just regular teenagers up to no good or an accusation of queer shit, either would set his father off, and Tommy would be the target if they didn’t distance themselves a little.

And he’s scared for the Sinclair kid, because Neil has made it very clear that nothing good will come of Max hanging out with him. Billy’s kind of caught in the middle on that one, he doesn’t want Max to think he's the dickhead when his dad is, but he wants her to just keep her distance, be a little more cautious so something bad won’t happen.

Back in California, he’d had a black friend in kindergarten, and as soon as he found out, Neil called the school and had his classes switched just because they’d been too young to get a beating for it. Lucas was fourteen, and if eight was old enough for his own flesh and blood, then that was good enough for Neil to lash out. But they were just rebellious teenagers with no concept of real world consequences, and they were going to get themselves killed.

More than anything, he was scared for Max. He can tell she doesn’t really know what’s happening around her. Susan does her very best to shield her daughter from Neils rage, and that means not telling her about it at all or letting her see it. On Neil’s bad days, Max would still come home talking a mile a minute, pushing him over the edge to a violent fit that his son would have to face, and she’d be none the wiser.

At first, it’d pissed Billy off that she could go home free so often, but by now the fact that she was completely blind to it scared him that one day, she’d be next. Just a few weeks ago he’d had to step into the middle of an argument between his father and step-sister, and got a split in his eyebrow so bad it still hadn’t healed. It was only a matter of time before he didn’t catch it in enough time, and Max’s little safety bubble would pop forever.

But doing his best to keep all of them safe meant doing his worst, and he hated it. What choice did he have when he had to keep Max and Lucas separated and the target on Susan’s back small? How could he do that other than to be strong and mean and just like Neil?

Because, if he had a mean streak himself, that’d threaten his big bad dad, and he’d get his ass beat. Coming home wasted and making a scene, he’d get his ass beat. A call from the school or a concerned parent about that rowdy boy down on Cherry, and he’d get his ass beat. Wash rinse repeat.

Be the worst Billy he could be, and Neil would take it out on him, not on Max who holds hands with black boys, or Tommy who doesn’t even know his best friend’s a queer and just wants to have a friend, or Susan who didn’t know what she was signing up for when she said I do.

Still, making that choice, deciding to take the worst of his father's rage for everyone else and still not seeing an ounce of empathy or concern thrown his way put a bitter taste in his mouth. At this point it was like, why even bother keeping up the sacrifice? Nobody appreciates all the pain he goes through to protect them, why not just be good?

Because it wasn’t just for them.

If Neil knew his son wasn’t manly and brave and cocky and cool like everyone thought he was, Billy was sure he’d already be six feet under. The act had saved his ass on more than one occasion, when tears fell from his eyes and accusations of being a dainty fairy started to fly, the leather jackets and the metalhead music and the fucking cologne on his balls kept Neil from going too far. It was a counterbalance sort of thing, because he could think of nothing else that would stop his dad from lashing out at everyone around him.

He knows how he acts is wrong, but he doesn’t know what else to do, what else could stop Neil. Unless somebody would just grow a pair and put Neils sorry ass in prison, then things wouldn’t have to be this way.

But it was that way, the cops didn’t believe Billy when he was 10 and innocent, let alone now that he’s just some washed up trouble maker, and Neil kept up a pristine reputation among the communities they lived in, so nothing was done about it.

Everyday the line between who he actually was and who he needed to be to survive and to protect those around him from that monster got blurrier and blurrier.

So here he was, listening to the dumb katydids in the trees keeping him awake, chain smoking and reflecting on his choices, some of the most recent and very poor ones sticking out in his mind's eye.

On Halloween, he’d almost killed a bunch of kids just to scare Max. Every night he thought about what would’ve happened if she hadn’t been quick enough pulling the wheel. Getting beat up by your daddy doesn’t excuse that, even if in his head he was just trying to teach Max a lesson.

Then he’d broken her skateboard for talking to Lucas behind his back. That had actually been an accident, but he was still threatening to do it when it broke and he was still screaming at her. For trying to protect her from Neil, he sure did treat her just the same way his father did him.

The icing on the cake was that the same night, he’d lost his cool and totally scared the hell out of everyone. Max is pissed about the skateboard and sneaks out of her room in the middle of the night, he doesn’t notice because she’s like 13, she doesn’t need a babysitter, Neil and Susan find out before he does, and there’s bruises on his back and a sore spot on his cheek and he can’t find the little twerp for the life of him. All her friends' parents have a different answer for where the kids are, and when he finally finds them they’re under the supervision of a random teenager unrelated to any of them in a strangers house.

Now, when they moved here, Susan had been concerned about the area, she’d heard trafficking was bad in the Midwest compared to their sunny California, but Neil had told her it’d be fine. As Billy pushed his way into that house that night, he was pretty damn sure it wasn’t. One of the kids that was supposed to be there was missing, the one who’s house they were in, is just, gone, and he can only think the worst. His thirteen year old sister is being prostituted or some shit and he’s kind of freaking out, and he turns it around on Lucas.

Lucas, who hadn’t done anything wrong but be a kid, but who had been warned about hanging out with Max, and had now gotten her involved in some kiddie porn thing, and Neil was going to kill him and he’s fucking terrified. Then he’s in a fucking fist fight with Steve Harrington, who he’d thought was just the somewhat dopey leader of the basketball team, but was apparently leading whatever the fuck this operation is and lying to him about it.

He wins the fight and he almost kills Steve, thinks he has every reason to if his suspicions are correct, but Max picks up some random syringe, which, again, he’s convinced would only be necessary if they were drugging and selling out these kids, and fucking stabs him with it. He doesn’t remember anything else, but he knows Max has gotten a lot cockier around him and the other kids hated him like, a thousand times more.

There’s still the creeping feeling in the back of his mind that there’s something else going on, but he didn’t want to be like that again. He’d already known he’d crossed the line to being too much like Neil, but that night had really cemented it in his head, and he regretted all of it. A thousand different things could’ve played out, and he’s pretty sure that because of him, the worst of all possible scenarios had occurred, and he wished he could go back.

But he couldn’t, so he tried to apologize, but Max wouldn’t hear it. He’d been halfway through saying he was sorry when she’d opened the car door and stomped away, slamming it shut in his face. That was fair, he deserved that, but he wished so desperately that there was something he could do.

He guessed his problem was just, keeping doing what he knew was wrong until it was too late, and then not knowing how to like, change from that. Just apologizing meant nothing at this point and he knew it, but he hadn’t meant for this to go on for so long. Which also meant he sure as hell didn’t know how to fix it.

It made him feel hopeless, being caught between so many different expectations, especially when he realized that he had set most of them for himself. He was a monster of his own making, and he would have to own up to that before anyone would forgive him.

——

Things never really work out for Billy.

The instant things start to look better, Neil would do something that set his son back to the start of it, and he’d screw things up with Max and her friends all over again like clockwork.

It felt like he would always be trapped alone with the quaintness of Indiana, locked up in the confines of his bedroom, unable to break the cycle of abuse.

He never expects that statement to be as true as it is.

Glass shatters, he panics, tires squeal, he loses control, broken ribs, he can’t breathe. In and out, he can’t remember, chemical burns, his face and his throat and his chest burn like fire, fades to black, what did he do? It hurts, he’s sorry, burning heat, he didn't do it, it hurts. Gun fire, he floors it, fireworks, he wants it to end, seven feet, he was happy, blood on the tiles, he’s not gonna make it.

Billy Hargrove dies on the Fourth of July, 1985.

He doesn’t get the chance to move on, doesn’t get to prove his father wrong, or ever have the chance to live his own life.

There’s no turn around in his young life to get back on the right path and leave behind his trauma, to be better than what his abuser did to him. He’ll never see his mom, or his home or his sister ever again.

He doesn’t have the chance to make it up to Lucas or Susan or Steve or Tommy or Max. Or to escape the mindset he’d been raised into so he could be free and safe and happy again.

Billy’s last words are an apology to his sister. He chokes on his own blood, or maybe not his own, he’s not sure, and he goes out of this world at only 18 years old, a monster of his own making.