#remember when we thought the duffers knew how to write!!

[ouiagon]

ST4 VOL 2 SPOILERS (haven't watched the episodes, just reading the tags and I'm fuming)

what was the point of mike and will's awkward hug, what was the point of the rink o mania fight, what was the point of emotional tender music playing while will and mike have a heart to heart Twice, what was the point of mike not being able to say I love you to El, what was the point of blue meets yellow in the west, what was the point of all the byler marketing, what was the point of "mike is just trying to act as normal as possible, he might be into some new things", what was the point of "they've been building byler up for a while now so definitely start shipping it", what was the point of "will's love for mike is beautiful and they come to a mutual understanding", what- what- WHAT-

Ngl I still have the TEENSIEST CRUMB of hope left because it's possible mike might learn El didn't commission the painting in s5 and he'll realize all of the things will said were his feelings and not hers, but honestly I'm tired of giving credit to the duffers for anything. will is my favorite character and my heart is BROKEN for him but I'm actually more mad at how they've obliterated Mike's character. even outside of byler, milkvan has been going in circles and the last thing they need as characters is to get back together AGAIN. even if byler wasn't gonna have any semblance of confirmation all I wanted was milkvan mutual breakup and like at least a proper hug between will and mike, that's IT. nah instead will gets to suffer for the 1000th time and mike is just a terrible person. I was enjoying season 4 immensely because of max and the byler buildup (also Eddie but from what I hear that doesn't go so well either) but now it's just imploded on itself. thanks suffer brothers, I hate it.

[kaypeace21]

It's funny people are losing it over the byler fight possibly being based off a romantic fight, in the highschool musical sequel. Because , byler (long before s4) has been paralleled to romantic pairings - that are from shows/films that are confirmed ST inspo. It's not new. The writers also said the original highschool musical was inspo for s4 ... so the idea the sequel is also inspo, is fairly possible. I even said a few years ago , and got teased by the way ,for mentioning how gabriel/Troy parallel byler because : Byler knew eachother since kindergarten. And in the og film- troy/gabriel say it's "feels" like they've know eachother since they were in kindergarten. They say it a bunch in the first film .And now people are noticing the byler fight (via dialogue and framing) also parallels troy/Gabriella's fight.

But did yall also forget the byler s3 fight (which parallels the s4 fight) was also based off a different romantic scene from a diff series? I noticed/mentioned this parallel - years ago. Duffers said they were huge fans of Dawson's creek.

In the D.C scene the 2 childhood friends try to deny their romantic feelings and fight about it ...one character does so with one very interesting line :

The character who says the same line as mike: is actually in love with their childhood friend. Yet uses this exact line to change the subject/deny their feelings to their friend (when confronted by them).

Also d.c had an endgame gay couple (what's funny is - one had a sister, the other had a brother. Their straight siblings dated before them- but eventually they broke up. And the gay siblings ,started dating later,and were endgame).

Also look at the framing of the gay realization: both occur at the end of an episode where we see them hugging a girl ,and only see the back of the girls' heads - as they zoom in on the guys' faces filled with turmoil.

Even after the gay realization/scene in d.c ,he (jack) pretends to be straight and still dates the main girl for a bit longer. Both are rich guys who initially date the main girl character (because they are in deep denial about being lgbt). And both have a smart overachiever sister who initially dates a guy who is poor,and has a shitty dad.And by the end jack dates the brother of his sister's ex. And this (straight ) brother always assumed his brother was gay and was also an ally to jack,before the jack and his brother dated- reminds me a bit of jonathan.

Some also thought the s3 byler fight reminded them of the fight between a gay pairing in " eyewitness". It has no confirmation of being inspo by the Duffers (unlike hsm or d.c). But the framing is very similar... coincidence or not. The boy on the same side as mike (has a gf, and was in serious denial/repression about his romantic feelings for the other guy, during said fight.) That boy had so much internalized homophobia- especially because he was from/lived in a small town. Their fight in a garage, the car in the background, the lighting . Coincidence or not the parallel is definitely something else... lol

Eyewitness even has another similar scene, which i really disliked in both shows: dude in woods with camera records love interest... cough with someone else doing , y'know. Yall remember that mess in s1 of stranger things. Ick.But, I digress.

Also byler in s2 is based off Ghostbusters. And name dropped in the show. Mike said he was Venkman. Venkman's love interest was Dana (Will): who gets possessed, and then can control demon dogs during said possession, one demondog was in her fridge too, they have to close the gate to break her possession. Does any of this sound very familiar. Cause it should...

And in s1 mike writes a d&d story where king Tristan (Will) gives mike and his friends medals at the end of s1. Like the end of the original star wars film where princess leia gave medals to han (her future love interest) and han's friends . Mike, a star wars nerd: replaced princess leia for a king (Will)- who gave medals (to their future love interest) . The medal ceremony was romantic foreshadowing since Han winks at leia after she gives him the medal.

There's more examples.little woman was s4 inspo. Dude dates girl, but he ends up with his ex's artist sibling -instead. Before that-the artist 3rd wheeled her sister and future love interest while the 2 were skating /holding hands. Aka just like Will watching mike and el skate. Or heck "it" series is confirmed inspo too-ben/bev/bill parallels Will/mike/El. Bev (mike) gets romantic poem (painting). Bev (mike) assumes the poem (painting ) is from Bill (El) when it's actually from Ben (Will). Bev was into Bill, but later she realized the poem is from Ben. When she realized the words were from ben- they became endgame. So if Mike ever finds out the truth of the painting (what will happen?).

But literally every season byler is paralleled to a romantic pairing from a show/film the duffers or writers like. The fact byler scenes are often based off romantic pairings/scenes is strange if platonic or one sided. That's all i'm saying XD

[sheisjoeschateau]

“You’re there. You were always there.”

A MULTI-PART FANFICTION SERIES, INSPIRED BY STRANGER THINGS, WRITTEN BY MISHA ST. JAMES.

Steve Harrington x fem!character. Childhood friends to lovers.

Slow burn. Angst. Romance. Smut with plot. Spin-off of pre-existing character.

A note from the writer:

—

Hello there darlings. What started off as a rough one-shot concept inspired by my rewatching Stranger Things season one for the billionth time evolved into my new favorite fan fiction series that I have written and created. This truly has become my baby. I said it in my original post when leaving a sneak preview of this work of mine…but I’ll say it again. This piece really has become my baby.

I overthink everything. I like to dive deep beneath the surface of things and overthink things into magnificent new realities. A seemingly random (almost forgettable) character in this show ended up making my mind spiral. As a writer, I believe that all characters in books and cinema have purpose. So naturally, my mind wanted to make something of a character that only appears at random yet crucial parts of the show’s story.

Nicole only appeared in season one and she was assumed to be a friend of Steve’s. To us, she was no one. Yet the Duffers introduced us to her as if she was an already established character in the series. Steve seemed almost too comfortable with her, like there was history between them. But we never explored that past the first season. That really started to bug me during this last binge-watch I had. So being the over dramatic writer that I am, I decided to make something of it myself. And damn, did it just…flow. I had no plans of making this such a big series but yeah, here we fucking are.

I gave her my last name because, well, *hair flip* I’m a narcissistic bitch like that when it comes to writing. ;) So in this series of mine, she is written Nicole St. James. I took some inspiration from The Breakfast Club because, ya know, Claire Standish? Molly Ringwald was an iconic redhead in the 80s film world, and that role in particular really seemed to fit how I wrote Nicole while fitting how she was presented in the show. I also did not want to give her a predictable personality either (because, again, as a writer I’m complex like that). So I did not take the typical “mean girl” route with her character because that honestly would just hit a wall. I wanted there to be a reason for her her in this show. I think the actress who played her did a good job with it, given there wasn’t much for her to work with.

I actually researched the actress a bit (Glenellen Anderson) and she’s actually very talented. She said something in one of her interviews about her role being small in ST but serving a crucial part in the first season of the series, given her being the reason that Steve finds out about Jonathan taking the pictures in his yard that night. Idk tbh I lowkey feel like a stalker who’s obsessing over an actor before they make it big so that one day I can be like YEAH I KNEW SHE WAS COOL WHEN SHE WAS STILL UNDERRATED. Lol ok moving on —

So I guess that’s it then. Time for me to shut up and just let the story I’ve created speak for itself. Thank you to some of my favorite writers on here and fellow Steve Harrington fanatics for inspiring me to release my own work into this universe. I’ve been very hesitant but I am glad to finally be doing it. I want to hear your thoughts and honest opinion while also asking kindly that you keep my emo heart in consideration when doing so 👉🏻👈🏻 If I forgot to tag you, I sincerely apologize. Please remind me in comments so that I can remember next time!

*disclaimer: this is based on pre-existing characters. in the show, nicole is portrayed by a redheaded white female actress so I based my writing around that. I do not discriminate against ANY race or preferred gender roles who choose to read and engage with my stories.

Enjoy and please leave feedback :)

x, MISHA

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANY PLATFORMS WITHOUT PROPERLY CREDITING ME AS THE WRITER. I DO NOT GRANT PERMISSION FOR YOU TO CLAIM MY WRITING AND WORK AS YOUR OWN. YES, THIS IS A FAN FICTION BASED ON A PRE-EXISTING SHOW. HOWEVER THERE IS BASIC COURTESY TO BE EXPECTED IN THE WRITING COMMUNITY SO PLEASE RESPECT THAT. 🖤

Warnings: This is very much an 18+ written fan fiction series. Please read at your own risk. There is language, eventual mentions of blood and violence, drinking, sex, etc. There is also going to be mention of homophobia because the 80s were full of misogynistic men and women who were so unforgivingly dense (like fucking Tommy H. and Carol Perkins), so I want to address that as we eventually introduce Robin and Will into the series so that we can have our outstanding LGBTQ darlings welcomed and given the representation that they deserve.

—————

VOLUME I

“You’re there. You were always there.”

——————

Steve Harrington is six years old when he meets you: the girl who carries the other half of him with her. 

He first spotted her playing outside alone, in the yard right across from his. She has a big treehouse, and no one but herself to share it with. And even though you seem content — he doesn’t know why, but it makes him sad. Watching you alone, in your own great big world, and no one begging to share it with you. 

So after a week, he walks across the street to do something about it. He had watched you climb the little red ladder up to the top, making round trips with your backpack and various items. 

The door to your treehouse is made of wood, painted pastel yellow with tiny butterfly stickers adorning it in random places. He hears you, talking to yourself the way you would talk if you had company. Maybe it’s to an imaginary friend. Or maybe, you just like to talk to yourself. Regardless, he knocks, and your gibberish ceases. Eventually, he hears your feet padding closer and closer.  The door creaked open, revealing your curious grey eyes. Your red hair framed your small, heart shaped face, and the cream knit sweater that you wore looked almost as warm as you were.

“Hi,” Steve said. “I’m Steve. I live in that house over there.”

He pointed to the big house that loomed just across the street from you, and you briefly peeked out to look at it before looking back at him. Your full pink lips pressed into a shy smile.

“I’m Nicole,” you told him. “I’m six.”

“Me, too,” Steve tells you, proudly and with a dashing smile. But then he furrows his brow. “Why are you having a tea party by yourself?”

You look back into your little safe haven, following his gaze that stares at the eclectic assortment of tea cups and teapots set for multiple people when it was just you. 

“Oh, well I just like to be ready,” you tell him. “In case I make any friends.” 

Suddenly, you beam at him. Your usually shy demeanor dissolves as the gleam in your eye shines through. 

“Do you wanna be my friend?” you ask Steve, who raises his eyebrows in response.

“Umm, yeah,” he finally responds, nodding his head. He stuffs one hand into the pockets of his little Levi jeans, fastened with a belt and all, already a charmer with his polo sweater. His other hand goes to push back some of his floppy chestnut hair. “Yeah, let’s be friends.”

You smile brightly.  “Okay.”

And so you are, just like that.  Friends.  As you pour Steve a cup of chocolate milk, which you both confidently call hot tea without remark, you quietly hum to yourself.

Steve watches you, thinking you’re really pretty.  Whenever you go to pass him a teacup, he takes it and quickly looks around, pretending he wasn’t just staring at you.  He was in awe, really.  Fairy lights were strewn about, with potted flowers in the windowsills.  There was a table with lots of crayons, markers and gel pens, unfinished drawings scattered underneath them.  A few completed drawings were hung up on the walls.  

“Doesn’t it get scary up here all by yourself?” he asks you, genuinely curious.

As you set the little teapot back down, you shrugged your shoulders and shook your head. “Mm-mm,” you tell him. “I’m safe up here.”

You raise your teacup to your little pout to sip.  You seemed so content all by yourself, as if the word ‘lonely’ was completely foreign to you.

Steve is six years old when he sees the reflection of his better self in you.

_______

Steve is 7 years old when he calls you his best friend.

You’re both playing at recess, roped into a game of duck-duck-goose. A little girl named Carol is sitting next to you, and Steve watches her roll her eyes and huff throughout most of the game. You’ve been smiling and laughing this whole time, except when she gets mad that you don’t pick her when you’re circling the group of kids and selecting someone to chase you.

“Nicoooole,” she whines. 

You look at her as if you’re terribly afraid of what you could have done wrong. Carol crosses her arms, pouting.

“You’re supposed to pick me,” she complains.

“Oh,” you said, eyes wide.  “I-I didn’t know you wanted me to.”

You shuffled your feet, your loafers twisting in the grass.  Your ponytail blew in the breeze, along with the little flyaway baby hairs, and you looked a little embarrassed – almost ashamed – as the kid you had picked goes to sit in the assigned mush pot, since she couldn’t catch you.

“Well I do,” Carol said, matter of fact. 

Steve grimaces. He hated seeing you so uncomfortable, and he really hated the way this girl was talking to you.

“Those aren��t the rules,” Steve argued, defending you. 

You looked at Steve, a little relief becoming evident in your timid eyes.

“It’s not not in the rules,” Carol snarks back. Alright, now Steve is just plain bothered. This girl is annoying. And shamelessly entitled. 

Carol looks back at you, glaring. “Pick me next time.”

You slowly sit back down next to her, sinking into the grass with a frown. You look so timid, sad even. Steve wanted to drag you across the circle to sit next to him, but he didn’t because you were suddenly standing again, stuttering a little “Oh,” realizing it was still your turn. 

You cautiously made your way around the kids, placing your hand on top of everyone’s heads while saying “duck.”  You started to sweetly grin as you approached Steve, who grinned back. You plopped your hand on top of his head, definitely messing up his hair, but he didn’t mind. It was you, and that was okay. Anyone else, no. 

You fearfully dubbed Carol duck as you passed her, and her jaw clenched. She kept her arms tightly folded, watching you like a hawk. Steve narrowed his eyes at the snarky girl, already hating her. You patted his head again, “duck,” and Steve watched you curiously. Surely, you weren’t gonna pick her. Then again, he was afraid of what would happen if you didn’t. 

But sure enough, you did pick Carol. 

Goose. 

Carol smirked so fast before bolting upright to chase you around the playground. 

Steve was wildly chanting your name, along with the others.

“Go, Nicole!” he shouted, rooting you on. The others echoed his cheers. Your red hair flipped in the wind, ponytail bouncing behind you as you dashed back towards him in your school dress and loafers. 

Carol looked so convinced that she was gonna take you down, but you were faster. She chased you with a devilish smile, which began to quickly dissolve once she saw you getting closer to homebase.

Suddenly, you plopped down beside Steve, out of breath. He and the others hurrayed, and you smiled as you panted.

But Carol scoffed, finally making it over to you all in the circle. She buckled over her knees, trying to catch her breath.

“Ha-ha, Carol,” some boy sneered jokingly. 

“Yeah Carol, mush pot time,” Steve chimed in, a little too happily.

She scoffed again, louder this time. “No way, that’s not fair.”

Steve twitched incredulously. “W’you mean it’s not fair? She beat you.”

Carol’s jaw clenched again, and she stared daggers in your direction as she put her hands on her hips with a sour attitude. Steve cringed at the sight of just how nasty she looked, hating that it was being directed towards you. You shrunk back in your seated position on the grass, looking afraid. As Carol stalked over to sit in the middle of everyone, she kept staring at you with a look that could kill. You looked to the ground, and Steve kept his place next to you with a newfound wave of protection washing over him.

“Fine, well,” Carol sneered.  “I’m not your friend anymore.”

Carol’s words were nothing but laughable. To any mature adult — hell, any human not in kindergarten — her remark would have meant nothing. But to you? A seven year old with a heart of gold, and the desire to just make everyone feel included? Her words were detrimental. They meant you were a horrible person. You were to blame.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t —“ you stumble, voice shaking. “I didn’t mean to, Carol, I-I…”

Carol whipped her head around to not face you. Your eyes were really sad now, and Steve’s heart sank.  You brought your knees to your chest, and your grey eyes went a little glassy.

“I can switch w-with you,” you kept trying. “I’ll sit—”

“Shut up,” she barked. “I said you’re not my friend.”

“Yeah, well she’s my best friend.”

Steve’s words landed hard. 

Carol whipped her head around again, now facing him. Everyone in the circle stared at the perfect-haired boy, including you. Sweet, innocent you. Your grey eyes peered over at him nervously. But there was a glint of hope in them, too, and if you weren’t so shaken up and close to crying you would have smiled. 

Steve shot one last disgusted look in Carol’s direction, then rose to his feet.  He reached out a hand, taking one of yours from your knees.

“C’mon,” he told you.  “Let’s go play somewhere else.”

You blinked, but didn’t hesitate to follow his lead.  You looked at him, giving him a small smile before looking downwards again.  Steve wrapped his fingers around your hand so tightly, and your little heart fluttered.  He was so warm, and you felt so safe.

Carol huffed, appalled.  “Since when are you best friends with ugly redheads, Harrington?!”

Your heart sank even lower as you saw Steve’s eyes go fierce, his jaw clenched.  He whipped around to look at Carol.

“The only ugly redhead here is you,” he shot back at her, and her jaw dropped.  All the kids reacted, some laughing and some making amused remarks.  But Steve didn’t pay them any mind as he stalked off with you, hand in hand.

You kept up with him as best you could with your little legs, feeling his grip on your hand tighten.  He looked so mad, and you gulped.

“Steve?” you asked, voice quiet.

“Don’t listen to them,” he mumbled, shaking his head.  He was staring straight ahead, mind racing.  You could tell he was really upset, and it made you feel bad.  “Or her.  She’s a bitch.”

You gasped, eyes wide.  “Steve!”

“What?  She is.”

You were shocked to hear him curse.  A few moments passed as you kept walking beside him, completely taken aback.  But then, you felt a grin tucking your lips upwards.  You stifled a giggle, and Steve turned to look at you in surprise.  You glanced up at him shyly, really giggling now.  His hard expression turned soft, a smile of his own creeping on his lips.  Eventually, he laughed too.

The two of you made it over to the swingset, and Steve let go of your hand.  You already missed his touch, the warmth of it.  He walked to stand in front of the tire swing, nodding his head at you to join.  You walked in front of the tire, reaching up to grip the chains from which it hung.  Steve crossed over to stand behind you.

“Here,” he said, placing his hands on your small hips.  You felt yourself flush, heart fluttering again.  A whole flock of butterflies swarmed your stomach.  Steve was happy you couldn’t see his face, because he felt himself flush too.  He wasn’t sure why a surge of electricity shot through him as he lifted you up into the tire swing, but as you swung your legs into its open middle he could smell your lavender shampoo.  It made him melt, and his hands lingered just a little longer than needed on the hips of your jeans.  You were safely seated now – had been for a moment.  Maybe two or three moments.  

Steve cleared his throat, rounding the wheel to climb onto it and sit across from you.  He tossed his feet into the hole, hands wrapped around the chains.  You looked at him with that signature warm, slightly shy smile of yours, and he returned it.  His smile was definitely more confident, though.  Charming, even for a first grader.

Your feet dangled in the air, so Steve used his to touch the ground and help you both begin to swing.  For a little while, you both just listened to the breeze.  The leaves were beginning to turn brown, a sign that autumn was approaching.  Kids laughed in the distance, buzzing with energy.  You figured you both only had a little time left, before you would have to return to classes.  But spending the last bit of playtime alone together was more fun than with the bratty kids you’d been spending time with earlier.

“Am I ugly?”

Steve had been watching a butterfly swarming nearby when you spoke.  He almost hadn’t heard you, with the way you spoke so quietly.  You sounded so small, fragile.  You were staring at the ground, your loafers criss-crossed as the two of you swayed on the swing, looking so vulnerable.  It made his heart split in two, the fire inside him burning again.  

“No,” he said, a little too harshly.  Your eyes shot up at him, a little surprised at his tone.  But he continued with no filter, cause what 7-year-old boy has one of those?  “Carol’s a liar.  You’re not ugly.  At all.  You’re beautiful.  Way more than her.”

Your eyes shone, and Steve watched your cheeks go rosy pink.  A small but real smile found its way onto your little lips, and you looked at him so sweetly before you glanced back down at the ground.  You kicked at the air, thinking to yourself.  While you weren’t looking, Steve memorized each eyelash concealing your grey eyes and the curve of your eyebrows.  He noticed that you only had a small sprinkle of freckles on your nose, but nowhere else on your porcelain skin.  He felt his heart skip a beat, losing himself in you.  God, you were perfect.  How could anyone ever call you ugly?  

“Wanna come over for dinner?” Steve asked.

You looked up at him, snapped out of your own thoughts.  “Yeah.  I’ll have to ask my mom and dad if that’s okay.”

“I think my mom is ordering pizza,” Steve continued, mouth watering.  “Do you like pizza?”

“Yeah, but I like mushroom pizza.”

Steve scrunched his nose.  “Eww, why?”

You giggled, shrugging.  “They’re really good!”

“Bleck.”

“You should try them,” you insisted.  

Steve would normally say something along the lines of hell no, but to you?  That was impossible.  He pursed his lips, nose still scrunched and shivering at the thought of eating fungus on pizza.  But he relented, sighing.

“Alright, I guess,” he said, kicking to swing you both again.  “But if I don’t like it, you have to help me with the dishes.”

You smirked.  “Deal.”

You both swayed, listening to the trees rustle.  Steve watched the teacher approaching everyone from her perch, knowing she was about to whistle for everyone to make their way back for school.

“Hey Steve?”

He turned back to look at you.  ‘Hmm?”

You paused, contemplating your words.  But then you gave him the kindest smile in the world, and it rendered Steve speechless as you spoke with more certainty than you had all day.

“You’re my best friend, too.”

__________

As the next few years went by, you and Steve continued to become a permanent part of them for each other.  

Your parents had easily become friends with his parents, making it a regular thing to have each other over for holiday parties and gatherings, or even just casual dinners.  Both your parents and his were too wealthy for their own good, too caught up in their own worlds to really pay either of you any mind.  Sure, they knew that the two of you were friends.  Close even.  But they didn’t really know much beyond that.  Steve’s parents were just glad to know that their kid had something to do other than bother them every day after school and on weekends, and your parents were so used to you playing by yourself that they didn’t really notice much difference.  Your families both lived in a swanky neighborhood, so becoming acquainted with one another hadn’t been something that required much consideration on their part.  They ran in the same circles.  Timeshare mutuals, and plastic veneer smiles who shared travel itineraries for whatever bougie seminar was happening that month, or the next.

Until you came along, Steve had been a lonely kid destined for a life of abandonment.  Once Chet Harrington had been given a son by Paula, he stopped the bloodline there.  “Good,” he’d remarked.  “Someone to carry on the family name.”  As far as he was concerned, that’s all his kid’s purpose served.  Take over the family business, get a trophy wife and repeat the cycle.  Siblings?  Why bother?  One kid was enough to handle.  They cost money and time, and the Harringtons didn’t just hand those out like charity.  If it weren’t so heavily frowned upon, or a threat to their reputation, they wouldn’t have even bothered with hiring a babysitter.  It was mainly Paula Harrington who insisted on it.  After all, she did love her son.  She just wasn’t a nurturing mother, giving her care to her pearls and pristine walk-in closet maintenance far more than her little boy, so her love was never felt by her son.  As far as Chet was concerned, once Steve turned 10 years old, a babysitter was no longer a needed expense.  Because that’s all it was to him: an expense.  So come the double digits, and Steve would just be a kid left to fend for himself, all alone in his great big house with no parents.

But so were you.  You, Nicole St. James, were just as doomed as he was.  Your parents were more aloof than anything.  They weren’t quite as cold as the Harrington’s.  But they weren’t all that warm either.  Ken had impregnated his wife, Alison, on a spontaneous trip overseas.  You’d been the result of a heavy night of gin, blue curacao and dirty talk.  Filthy sex and silky sheets in a Five Seasons were the blissful combination the night that you were conceived.  It had been a surprise for both of them, when that little strip read positive with a pink stripe.  They’d made a fuss of it, planning a frivolous baby shower with tons of guests and a plethora of gifts for their baby girl on the way.  They had found out the gender as soon as they could, not wanting any more surprises.  Your arrival had been a very anticipated event, so when you had been actually brought into the world the excitement fizzled away.  It seemed more exciting to celebrate having you, rather than actually having you.  Granted, your parents loved you.  You were spoiled with toys, new clothes every week, and social outings.  Not that you ever asked for any of those things.  The only thing you ever sought out from them were hugs, which they half-heartedly returned with barely a fraction of the love that radiated through your tiny arms.  

You had your mother’s hair, though hers was more auburn while yours was pure fire.  And you had your father’s grey eyes.  But what you had that they didn’t, was your spirit.  They were boisterous, loud and shallow.  You were quiet, shy and soft.  You radiated only genuine kindness, oftentimes just observing your surroundings and being in your own little world.  Your parents were party animals, constantly busying themselves with events and planning vacations.  It’s why they busied you with the same types of things by default, assuming you to be just like them.  Constantly wanting company, people to distract you and noise to drown out the silence.  But you weren’t like them.  You loved the silence, the chirping of the birds and the whoosh of the breeze.  You loved books instead of toys, and gardening tools instead of dolls.  Not that they paid attention to that, though.  Instead, they just bought you whatever the flashiest new item was.  Or, if you just so happened to take a liking to something, the St. James’ bought it to appease you quickly and not bat an eye.  Screw sentimentality, if it made you happy then by all means you could have it.

The only reason they had a treehouse built for you, was because Ken St. James had discovered his daughter’s makeshift fort outside.  It consisted of amateruly constructed cardboard boxes, with random blankets propped up on sticks.  He and Alison had just gotten home from a business trip, and your aunt had shrugged her shoulders when they asked how her stay had been.  She told them you had spent the whole time outside, playing in your disastrously built utopia.  Your parents didn’t give much thought to it, hiring a few carpenters to come and build you a proper treehouse for your sixth birthday.  You had beamed, telling them thank you a thousand and one times.  They’d thought it was cute, at first.  Until one night, as they got ready for a gala, you had gone to hug your mother as she coated her lips with a red rouge.  She’d yelped, surprised at your sudden touch.   

“I love you, mommy,” you whispered to her.  

“Nicole, darling, what are you–” she stammered, one hand holding her lipstick and the other swatting at you.

“For my treehouse,” you continued.  “I love it.”

“Oh, psh, honey,” she scoffed wryly, slowly peeling your little arms off of her shoulders.  “Enough now, you’ve thanked us too many times to count.  It’s a little exhausting.”

She had chuckled humorlessly, resuming her pampering.  You had watched her reflection, and if she’d cared to look at yours instead of her own she would have seen the look of longing and saddened wonder that filled your eyes.  She would have seen the way your full lips parted, no more words being spoken.  And she would have seen you quietly pad your way back out her bedroom door, where you made your way back to your room.  

Instead of finding love through your parents, you found it in your treehouse.  You found it in the swaying of the trees, and the butterflies that swarmed your front yard.  You found it in yellow crayons, and glitter gel pens, and the weeds you insisted were flowers as you pulled them and placed them into little pots.  You found love in the changing of seasons, and the twinkle lights that glowed at night in your safe haven.  You found love within yourself, and you found love in Steve Harrington.

The bike rides down the neighborhood streets, and down to the convenient store to buy snacks with your little weekly allowances.  The swapping of ice cream cones on hot summer days — when Steve noticed the way you eyed his chocolate waffle cone, as he secretly wanted your strawberry sugar cone instead.  The afternoons into nights spent in your treehouse together, playing make believe and coloring.  The fairy wands and pirate swords, and the battle of neverland that you fought side by side in your tulle dress while Steve wore a green polo and birthday hat with a red feather crudely taped to the side of it.  The field trips and summer camps with your classmates, always sitting beside each other on the bus and whenever you all had to eat in between activities.  Lord knows, if you two were sat apart, one of you would complain until it was made right.  The innocent secrets you told each other, and the way you both laughed at the silliest of things until your sides split.  The countless hours that you spent at his house, no parents or nanny in sight, playing hide and seek.  One time, it took him so long to find you that he panicked.  He was pretty sure you had actually disappeared for good, and his breathing quickened.  It took him calling out your name several times, until eventually it sounded like he was blubbering.  You had made your way out of his closet, where you’d proudly buried yourself underneath all of his clothes.  Steve saw you crawling out with a worried look on your little face, saying his name in such an assuring tone.  He had run over to you and hugged you tight, sniffling.  But when he pulled back, he’d already roughly rubbed his eyes so that no tears spilled.  The two of you resumed playing like nothing had happened.  

Most days were spent in your treehouse, except when a thunderstorm was coming.  That’s when the two of you would throw a bunch of blankets and pillows together in his or your room, making a fort.  A shelter, if you will.  The thunder rolled as the lightning streaked across the sky.  One night, you had both curled up with a big bowl of popcorn, boxes of cereal, pop tarts, sodas and candy, no trace of actual substance in sight.  You had flashlights and cards, playing Go Fish and War.  At some point, Steve had asked if you believed in ghosts.  You shuddered, nodding your head yes.  His eyes had gone wide, clutching the blanket tighter around his shoulders.  You pulled the pillow in your arms closer to your chest, your grey eyes just as wide as his.

“Do you think…” Steve had started, his voice soft.  He gulped, a thought crossing his mind.  “D’you think we’ll ever have to fight monsters?  You know, like aliens or something?”

You gulped, too.  “I dunno,” you started, voice soft like his.  “I think that monsters in books and movies are really scary.  I don’t wanna fight them in real life.”

Steve nodded, thinking.  “Well, if we ever do… I’ll protect you.  Promise.”

You hugged your pillow tighter, your worried eyes shining and a shy smile meeting your lips.  “You will?”

“Yeah,” Steve assured you, with absolute certainty.  Because he meant it with all of his heart.  No monster would ever hurt you.  No ghost would haunt you.  And nothing would ever take you away.  “I always will.”

CRACK.  That’s when lightning struck the electricity box, and all the power in Steve’s house went out.  You screamed, and Steve gasped.  He grabbed one of the flashlights, shuffling his way over to you.  He wrapped the blanket around both of you, as the two of you huddled closer together underneath the pillow fort you both built together.

“S’okay, I’m right here,” he soothed you, feeling you shiver against him.  Your little arms were wound around his torso, your grip fierce.  He clung to him with so much trust, melting into him, even though you were scared.  He melted right back into you, holding you close.  “I got you.”

The winds howled outside, thunder still rolling and lightning flashing around you both in the quiet, still room outside of the walls of blankets enveloping you both.  

“Do you think there’s a monster out there?” you asked him, your frightened voice the cutest whisper in the world.

“Nah,” Steve said, but even he wasn’t so sure.  He couldn’t be scared, though.  He had to make you feel safe.  “But if there is, it won’t get you.  I won’t let it.”  He rested his chin on top of your head.  “Not ever.”

Even at nine years old, Steve knew he would never break a promise that he made you.  You did, too.

And right now, as you turned ten years old, you were surrounded by a bunch of faces.  Most of them, you didn’t really know.  Some were kids from school, and others were their parents.  Lots of random adults, buzzed with champagne and spirits.  But as you sat in a chair behind your pink birthday cake, all aglow with ten gold candles, there was one face you recognized and loved.  Steve’s.

He grinned at you, his smile growing more charming each day.  His hair was still iconic, always styled just right.  He wore a preppy polo with a collar, and khaki slacks with nice shoes.  His brown doe eyes shone in the candlelight – and even though the others spoke loudly over each other, he spoke so that only you could hear him.

“Make a wish, Nic,” he said, seated right next to you.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY GIRL!” your mom squealed, the inebriation evident in her voice.

“Wait, honey, wait,” your father chuckled, gripping his whisky.  “We gotta sing first.”

“Damn,” Mr. Harrington remarked, also laughing.  “These women just don’t have any patience, do they?”

The two men snickered, and Mrs. Harrington playfully scoffed and swatted at them before wrapping an arm around your mother.  She, too, was a bit tipsy.  

“Alright,” she purred, a smirk on her lips as she raised her glass.  “All together now.”

And so the song began.  Happy Birthday rang all throughout the house, echoing off the dining room walls of your childhood home.  Kids sang with enthusiasm, while adults sang in a million different pitches.  Some voices were happy, others were bored, and a few were drunk.  But the only voice you listened to was your best friend’s, who sat by your side with one arm resting on the table and the other perched on the back of your chair.  You beamed at him, and he beamed at you.

Steve swore in that very moment, that you were perfect.  The way your little baby hairs still escaped your hair that was pulled into a little half-up do.  You were wearing the simplest, most feminine pastel yellow dress.  The sleeves had tiny ruffles on it, your shoulders peeking out and arms bare.  Your face was clean of any makeup, aside from the white face painted butterfly wings around your grey eyes.  It was so whimsical, making you look even more like a princess than you already were.  Steve watched you look around the room, enchanted by your enchantment.  And as your gaze circled back to meet his own, he smiled bigger.  Your smile grew, too, and the crowd of people in the room ceased to exist.  You’d both forgotten them, until they started to cheer wildly as your birthday song ended.

“Nicky!” your mother squealed.  

God, you hated when she called you that.  You broke your gaze from Steve, looking at her.

“Come on, baby, make a wish!”

You looked back down at your candles, scrunching your eyes shut and thinking.  Steve’s eyes never left you, entranced with the way you looked in the orange glow of the birthday candles.  Selfishly, he made a wish too.  It wasn't his birthday, but it didn’t have to be.  Steve wished for all your wishes and dreams to come true.  He wished for this to be the best year yet, for you and for him.  He wished for you to never move away, to always be his best friend across the road.  He wished for you to never outgrow him, or want to be better friends with somebody else.  He wished it would always be like this, that no matter what changes came he would always have you.  He wished that he knew what you were wishing for, and he wished for you to be wishing for him.

Little did he know, he was your only wish.  It was already true, and as you blew out the candles, you wished for it to always be true.

________________

Steve was twelve when you saw him cry for the first time.

His parents had gotten his report card, appalled at the C and D despite all other A’s.  Paula Harrington was disappointed and embarrassed, but Chet Harrington?  Well, he was furious.  

“I didn’t raise someone stupid,” he spat at Steve, who leaned against the kitchen counter with his head down, shoulders slumped and arms crossed.  They had been arguing over this for at least thirty minutes.

Steve swallowed.  “I’m not stupid, dad,” he murmered, voice defeated.

“Sorry, what was that?” his father egged him on, voice bitter.  There was zero trace of kindness or understanding, and Steve’s mother could only watch them from the dining table with a pathetic pout.

Chet stepped closer to his son, sneering.  “Speak up, son.  Couldn’t hear you.”

“...said I’m not stupid,” Steve tried again, hating the way his voice still shook despite talking a little louder.

“Stop being a little bitch and look at me,” his dad spat, the air escaping his lips and onto Steve’s face.

“Chet, please –” his mother tried, pathetically. 

Steve felt the hurt inside of him bubbling into anger, unable to control himself.  

“I said I’m not stupid!”  He shouted back, having taken enough of his father’s bullying for the past thirty minutes.  The past month.  Several months.  Years.

But he was only rewarded with a slap to the face, so sharp it felt like a knife.  If it weren’t for the ringing in his ears, he would have heard his mother gasp.  The impact had made him turn a full 180 degrees, and he was stunned into silence as tears sprang to his eyes from the harsh blow.  Slowly, he turned back towards them.  He first made eye contact with his mother, whose hands were clasped over her mouth.  Eventually, he made eye contact with his father, who seethed and showed no sign of remorse.

“Your report card says otherwise,” he slithered.  He slowly backed up towards the kitchen table, taking his seat again.  He took a sip of his brandy, clicking his tongue at the taste.  “Raise your voice at me again, and you’ll see stars next time.”

Steve could hear his own breathing, could feel the anguish that spread throughout his mind, body and soul.  His heart ached, and he longed for comfort.  But the two people who sat in front of him wouldn’t offer him that.  Nobody would.

Except you.

So he bolted his stairs, seeking privacy so that the unshed tears threatening to spill over wouldn’t show his weakness any further.  He held them at bay, biting his lip so hard he was pretty sure it would bleed soon.  He ran into his room, throwing open his drawers as he breathed hard.  Adrenaline coursed through his veins, his only thoughts consisting of getting a change of clothes and heading over to you.  He threw a backpack over his shoulder, locking his bedroom door and sneaking out his window.

He knew the route all too well by now, having done it since he was six.  He crawled down the side of the house, walking towards the house next to his and the one after that.  Then, he made his way across the street, where he walked behind one house, then two, and then made it to yours.  This way, his parents wouldn’t see him heading to your house out their window.  

Once he was there, he climbed up the side of your home where your window was dimly lit by the glow of your bedside lamp.  Good, he thought.  You were home.  His heavy heart swelled with relief, and he mounted the side of the house and up onto the roof the way he always did when sneaking into your room at night.

Your window was cracked open, always ready for him.  The curtains were drawn, and he saw you sitting on your bed, reading a book.  Your brows were closely knitted together, your eyes intensely focused on whatever you were reading.  One leg was crossed over the other, glasses perched on your nose and hair tucked back into a messy topknot.  

Steve swallowed back the large lump in his throat and tapped the windowpane, just enough for you to hear him.  Your head snapped up, pulled out of your bookworm trance.  Grey eyes met brown, and you went to smile until you saw the distress in his features.  You set your book down and removed your glasses, padding over to him, quietly but quickly.  A large t-shirt hung to your thighs, landing just above your knees and accentuating your slim legs.  You pulled the window all the way open, looking at him with the most concerned expression.

“Steve?” you asked, voice gentle.

The dam broke.  Steve couldn’t hold it in any longer, any plans of trying to do so completely demolished as a choked sob left his lips.  His shoulders heaved forward, and you felt your heart break at the sight.  This was new.  This was very new.  You’d never seen him like this.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him tightly.  He gripped you back like a lifeline, crying into your shoulder.  You stayed there for a moment, before pulling back to bring him inside.  He clung to you, not wanting to let go, but when he realized that he was still in the window frame he allowed you to move away from him and followed you inside to stand behind you.  You quickly closed the window, turning to face him again.  

He was a good several inches taller than you, so you looked up at him.  Your expression was so soft, so full of empathy it only made him break down more.  You wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his chest.  He buried his face into your shoulder again, weeping until the sleeve of your shirt was soaked through.  He shook in your embrace, the sound of his cries the saddest sound you had ever heard.  You stroked the nape of his neck, fingers playing with his hair.  His arms around you were so tightly wound, you thought he might never let go.  And you didn’t want him to, so neither of you made a move to do so.  You just stood there, holding one another, letting Steve cry until he couldn’t any more.

After a while, you slowly pulled back to look up at him.  Steve’s brown eyes were bloodshot, his stylish hair ruffled and messy – yet somehow, still perfect.  Even when he was sad, he was still so pretty.  

He rubbed at his snot sodden nose with his elbow, fruitlessly trying to wipe it away.  He sniffed roughly, not used to being the one who needed comforting.  But as you reached up to thumb away a few of his tears, he didn’t pull away.  Anyone else, he wouldn’t have let seen him like this, let alone touch him.  But you were the exception to every rule, and he wouldn’t dare pull away from you.  Not when you were so understanding, not casting any judgment towards him.  Any walls he had built around himself in front of others, he let come down in front of you.  Because when he was with you, he didn’t have to be strong, or brave, or cool.  He could just be Steve, a boy with big hair and an even bigger heart.

You smiled at him gently, waiting for him to speak.  He sighed.

“My dad said I was stupid,” he started, voice shaky.  “He said I – he said…”

Your small smile faded, your eyes boring into his.  He looked shown, shuddering a breath.  You took his hands in yours, guiding him to the bed.  You both sat down, your hands still intertwined.  You sat facing him, your legs crossed in Indian-style.  He mirrored you, matching your position and staring down at your dainty fingers in his.  You wore a few rings, minimal sterling silver bands.  Steve always loved how they made your piano fingers look even longer, delicate.  He twiddled in thumbs around yours, absentmindedly tracing shapes as he spoke.

“They saw my report card,” he continued, sniffling.  “I got a C in math.  And a D, i-in science.”

You furrowed your brows, still listening.  You wanted to say so much already, but you will yourself to stay quiet and let him finish.  He needed to let it out.

“It didn’t matter about the other grades.  Dad, h-he just cared about the bad ones.  Like no matter what, I’m j-just a failure.”

You shook your head, not having any of it.  “Steve,” you started, voice firm but kind.  “You’re not stupid.  And you’re not a failure.  You’re smart, and you study just as hard as anyone else does.”

He sniffled again, eyes still downcast.  “Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled.  “S’not enough.”

“You’re enough.”

That made him look up at you, his sad glassy eyes meeting your fierce ones.  The love that poured from your grey irises shot straight into his brown ones, and he knew you were being as honest as they come.

“He hit me, Nic,” he murmured, tasting bile as he admitted it. 

You felt a wave of emotions hit you all at once.  Anger.  Heartbreak.  Anguish.  Rage.  Pain.  And love.  So, so much love for this beautiful boy, who you got to call your best friend.  The thought of his dad hitting him – anyone hitting him – made you see red.  He didn’t deserve this.  Any of this.  And as you noted a slightly red mark on his cheek, you felt your soul split open.  Tears of your own sprang to your eyes, and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching a hand up to cup his cheek.

“Steve, I’m so sorry,” you whispered.  

His face crumpled, and you pulled him in close as he started to cry again.  You silently cried too, grateful that he couldn’t see you.  He kept one hand in yours still, resting on your laps.  The other wound around your waist, the hand you had placed on his cheek now draped around his neck.  You lightly swayed, allowing the silence and Steve’s breathy cries to wash over you both.  

Eventually, Steve’s tense shoulders sagged and his cries subdued.  He relaxed into you, and you could tell that sleep was finding him.

“Hey,” you murmured into his neck.  “Let’s get some sleep.”

Steve slowly pulled back, watching you pull the covers down.  Normally, it would be weird.  A boy, watching his female friend offer to sleep in the same bed without their parents knowing.  But you’d both fallen asleep together so many times over the years.  In your treehouse, on his bedroom floor, on the couch while watching a movie.  Even in the same bed, when studying or doing homework. Now was no different, as far as you both were concerned.

So as you nestled yourself underneath the covers, gesturing for him to follow, Steve didn’t hesitate to crawl in next to you.  He pulled the covers over the two of you as you turned out your light, only the moonlight illuminating your face in the dark room.  You both laid on your sides, facing each other.  You placed a hand on the mattress, in the small space between you both, palm up. He placed his hand on top of yours, wrapping his fingers around yours.  He sighed deeply, eyes fluttering shut.

“You can stay here anytime you want,” you whispered beside him, your eyelids drooping but still watching him.  

Steve squeezed your hand tightly.  He felt an overwhelming sense of relief, his heart swelling with love for you.  He peeled his eyes back open, taking in your beautiful face.  If there was an angel watching over him, it had to be you.  God couldn’t have possibly given him a better one, because you were it.

“I don’t wanna go back,” he whispered back, timid.  “Unless you’re there.”

You sighed, nuzzling into your pillow with a little nod.  “Okay, then you won’t.”

Both your voices were tired, but the words you shared with one another held so much truth and conviction. Because you meant what you had said. Steve never had to spend a single night alone in his great big house, whether or not his parents were there.  You stayed there, or he’d stay with you.  It became an unspoken routine, refuge.

No matter what pain life threw his way, or yours, you both knew that so long as you had each other, it would be okay.

____________

But one morning, several months later, Steve’s mom found you in his bed.  

The two of you were sound asleep, her son starfished across the mattress and you curled up into a little ball.  At first, Mrs. Harrington just froze.  How long had this been happening?  That’s the question that sprang her into action.  Her motherly instincts decided to actually make an appearance, storming over to the bed to jostle you awake.  

“Nicole St. James, what in blazes are you doing here?!”

Your eyes shot open, finding Mrs. Harrington’s frantic eyes.  She had a firm grip on your arm, and you shrunk deeper into the mattress.  

“Steven,” she said through gritted teeth.  “Wake up.”

Steve stirred, not really waking up.  Such a boy.  A tornado can’t wake boys when they’re not even thirteen yet.

You, on the other hand, were wide awake.  Groggy, but alert.  You felt your cheeks flush crimson, knowing this looked bad.  Sure, at twelve years old you’re not fully aware of just how bad this actually looked.  But a boy and a girl, sharing a bed, behind their parents’ backs?  That had trouble written all over it.  As far as any adult was concerned, that screamed bad news.  And nine times out of ten, it was often a result of youthful scandal.  

But for you and Steve?  It was simply comfort.  Safety.  Codependency.

That’s not how his mother saw it, though.

“Steven!”

He bolted awake, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes.  When he looked over to find you staring at him, your grey eyes terrified and lean arm in his mother’s manicured grip, he began to come to.  The reality set in, and Steve felt his chest clench.  You both had been caught.

His mother’s eyes held a fire that he had never seen before.  Even in all her beauty – loosely curled blonde hair, wispy bangs and silky white blouse to match her high waist trousers – she looked intimidating.  Steve realized at that moment, he had never truly felt intimidated by his mother until right now.  She looked absolutely furious, appalled even.  Her lips were pursed together into a tight, thin line, and by the looks of her clenched jaw he could tell she had gritted her teeth.

Steve swallowed, feeling the panic seep in.  “Wait, mom –”

“Not a word,” she cut him off.  “I didn’t raise you like this.”

You didn’t raise him at all, you thought to yourself.  If it weren’t for the fear you held, you would have had to really fight to stay quiet.  But as Mrs. Harrington kept going, you couldn’t have found your own voice if you tried.

“Bringing girls up to your room to sleep with them?  What filthy movies have you been watching?  Did you… Oh my god, did you find one of your father’s?!”

Steve’s eyes went wide with horror.  “What?!  No!  Mom, please –”

“I don’t know what vile things you’ve had put in your head, Steven.  By your friends, your father, porn or whatever the hell you kids are doing these days.  But this.  Ends.  Now.”

Your terror-stricken eyes expression became all the more terrified, and as Steve’s mother wrenched you off the bed you let out the most heartbreaking little yelp.  Steve felt his heart jump into his throat.

“MOM, PLEASE, DON’T –”

“And you,” she turned to face you, dragging you beside her out of his bedroom.  “You’re a young lady.  You should know better.”

You felt absolutely sick to your stomach.  Hearing Steve’s mom accuse you of being capable of doing something so grimey – of being a slut – made you feel so small.  And Steve’s panicked shouts weren’t helping.

“But I–I,” you stuttered, your voice so shaky and low it was almost inaudible.  How could she think you and Steve would do such a thing together?  It wasn’t like that.  He was your best friend.  Your safe haven.  Your favorite person in existence.

Mrs. Harrington slammed Steve’s bedroom door shut, trapping his shouts.  She was dragging you down the stairs as you heard him fling the door back open and barrel after you.  She whipped around, waving a finger up at him.

“You stay right there,” she ordered him, voice fierce and booming.  Then, as she kept going, she told you, “I’m taking you straight home to talk to your parents.  This friendship is over.”

The way that Steve wailed ‘no,’ had to have been the most excruciatingly painful sound you had ever heard.  Tears sprang to your own eyes, and you didn’t even try to conceal the whimpers that fell from your lips.  Mrs. Harrington couldn’t have cared less, ripping her car keys off the wall next to the front door.

“Mom, wait, just wait!” Steve’s voice was strained, but desperate.  

You tried to look back at him, only catching glimpses as you were being hauled away by his mother.  You could see the petrified anguish etching Steve’s features, his tired eyes practically popping out of their sockets.  His hair in complete disarray, his sweatpants hung low and his t-shirt all twisted.  He was the most beautiful mess, and you were being taken away from him.

“Not another step, Steven Harrington!” his mother barked, voice shrill.  

Steve came to an abrupt halt on the sidewalk, and even though he was a good distance away now you could see his shoulders shaking and bottom lip trembling.  Your heart thudded in your chest, and you felt like throwing up.  

Paula Harrington was now standing next to her car, opening the passenger side door.  No way in hell was she going to march you over to your house, directly across the street, just so that all of your neighbors could watch and stare from inside their respective homes.  She ushered you in quickly, giving you no choice but to obey.  You crawled into the front seat, pulling your knees to your chest, crying into them.  You felt so ashamed and embarrassed – and for what?  Falling asleep next to your best friend?  Yeah, that’s exactly what you had done that caused this twisted guilt to stir up inside you.  

“I’m taking you straight home,” she told you, cold and fierce.  “And you’re not to step foot over here again.  Do you understand?”

You bit into your knees, clenching your eyes shut in shame.    Mrs. Harrington slammed the door shut, making you jump.  The sound, along with her words, rang in your ears.

This friendship is over.

Your mind was reeling, stomach churning.  You clutched your legs, tugging them impossibly closer to your chest and you rocked in the front seat of Paula’s car.  You looked out the window, watching Steve run towards you.  His mom held out a hand, and you could hear their entire conversation through the thin glass window as you sniffled.

“Mom, nothing happened,” Steven insisted, voice broken.

“You expect me to believe that?!” Mrs. Harrington shot back at him with zero sympathy.  “How many times has this happened, Steven?”

Steve raked his fingers through his chestnut hair, distressed and breathing hard.  “You don’t understand, we just fell asleep –”

“How many?”

“Whenever I can’t sleep!” Steve screamed at her, and his mother visibly pulled back.  “Because y-you –”  Steve gasped for air.  “D-dad, it’s just –”  Steve pressed his lips together, words failing him, so painfully frustrated with himself and this entire situation.  “God, it’s nothing, Mom.  Nic comes over here, and s-sometimes I go there –”

“You sleep at her house?” his mother interrupted, shocked.

“It doesn’t matter!” Steve cries.  His mother is now frozen, taken aback by the hysteria in his voice.  As her son stares back at her, tears threatening to spill over and lips parted, she finally shakes her head.

“You’re almost thirteen years old, Steven,” she says, voice low and bitter.  “You’re too damn old to be having little sleepovers with girls.  You know how this looks.  I know what you were doing.”

“No, you don’t,” Steve shook his head, violently.

“Yes.  I do.”

“NO, YOU DON’T.”  Steve wailed, completely falling apart.  “You don’t know anything.  And I don't care that you don’t, because Nicole knows and that’s all I care about.”

His mother gawked at him, and Nicole could tell that his words stung her a bit.  Still, Paula stood her ground.

“Well whatever you two are doing, it’s over,” she said, coolly.  

Steve’s face crumpled.  “No, please –”

“You’ve got plenty of guys you can hang out with, Steven,” Mrs. Harrington said, tongue sharp.  “They can sleep over whenever you want.  Go call them.”

Steve flung his arms up in the air, running his hands through his hair again as he whirled around in a full 360 before facing her again.

“I don’t care about them –”

“Start caring,” she said simply, turning to walk towards the car again.  She was approaching the driver’s side to open her door.

“Mom, no, NO!”  Steve lurched forward, trying to grab her car keys.  His mother jumped back, reacting just in time.  Her reflexes served her justice as she whipped the keys out of his reach.  

“What is the matter with you?!”  Paula looked absolutely stunned now.  

But Steve wouldn't listen, still trying to wrench the keys from her hands.  They rustled, arms and limbs tangled as they both struggled to overpower the other.  Paula stuttered verbal protests, while Steve whimpered and grunted.  You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell, despite how utterly broken you felt.  Because Steve wasn’t letting you slip away that easily – and while you were too timid to speak up for yourself, he wasn’t.  He was always the brave one.  At school.  Whenever you fell off your bike, or slipped on the playground.  Nobody could pick on you, so long as Steve was there.  Not even his parents could, apparently.  

Eventually, Mrs. Harrington got the upper hand.  No doubt due to the fact that Steve wouldn’t actually be physically aggressive towards his own mother.  She tugged hard, causing Steve to lose his footing and stumble back onto the ground.  He collapsed, landing on his side and barely catching himself.  Paula gasped, watching him make a harsh impact with the concrete sidewalk.

“Steve, baby –” she breathed, noting the bad scrape on his arm.

Steve began to convulse with ugly sobs, curling in on himself.  He gritted his teeth, lips stretched thin.  Mrs. Harrington stared in horror for only a moment before kneeling beside him to assess the damage.  She might not have been a warm person, but she wasn’t a violent one either.  That was all his father.  She didn’t believe in putting a hand on her kid.  She just didn’t do anything to stop it when Mr. Harrington did.

“Give me your arm,” she said, her voice shaking now.

“Please, mom, please,” Steve bawled, pulling away from her and cowering back.  Paula noted the way her son wouldn’t look at her now, and she hated it.  It reminded her of the way he was around his father.  And she was not his father.  She was hardly a mother, but more importantly she was not his father.  She swallowed hard, pride overcoming any deeply buried traces of warmth and love within her.

“Listen to me,” she tried again, voice still shaking.  “Give me your arm.”

But Steve just unabashedly wailed, now feebly sitting up.  Tears streamed down his cheeks, drops of blood forming on his freshly scraped arm.  The guttural cries escaping his lips were so agnonized, Paula couldn’t understand it.  She had never seen him like this.  He just kept murmuring unintelligible things that sounded like don’t, don’t, don’t, and please, no, and pathetically trying to get the keys from her.  His efforts were futile, but he wouldn’t back down.

“Steven,” she said, incredulously.  “Stop.”

“Mom, she’s the only friend I have.”  

Steve’s tortured words landed hard, on both you and Paula.  They hit you like a freight train, piercing your heart.  

Steve cried and cried, finally looking at his mother again as he admitted this treacherously painful confession in a wrecked voice.  Paula couldn’t believe it.  There was no way that Steve didn’t have friends.  She had seen him.  At his games, and social gatherings.  He got along with everybody.  She didn’t have to be at school with him to know he was popular.  All the girls had a crush on him, and all the guys wanted to be around him.  No way were you the only friend he had. No way was he as lonely as he was saying that he was.  He wasn’t, he just wasn’t… Was he?

But then Paula realized it wasn’t a matter of him not having friends.  It was only a matter of you.  You, his other limb since he was the age of six.  You, who spent every birthday and holiday with him.  You, who sat with him on the bus, and at lunch, and any party you both went to together or with your families.  You, who somehow seemed to be everywhere, in every memory.  She’d never really thought much of it, assuming it was just some childhood crush or next door neighbor that you would both eventually outgrow.  And when she had found you in his bed, naturally, she assumed the worst.  You and Steve were both in middle school.  This was prime time for puberty, and exploring sexuality.  It was the pre-high school danger zone.  No way around it.  But come to think of it, she’d never seen you act as anything other than friends.  Not that that mattered.  Friends liked each other, too.  It all had to start somewhere.

Paula glanced up at the passenger window of her car, spotting you.  You still had your knees to your chest, fresh tears of your own spilling down your cheeks.  She would never admit it, but the sight of you looking so hurt – thanks to her – made her heart ache.  She knew you were a good girl.  If anything, you were obnoxiously good.  Sometimes she wondered if you had a single mean bone in your body.  It was infuriating, really.

She turned back to her son, who was still weeping uncontrollably and waiting for her to respond.  That really drove the knife deeper into her heart, and she could feel herself cracking.  The brutal truth of it all was landing, the realization dawning on her.

You were Steve’s home.

Mr. and Mrs. Harrington would never be that for their son.  Nor would their great big house.  No social status, or money, or upper class school would give him refuge.  But you?  You did that.  Have been doing that for the past six years.  

Steve didn’t lack friends.  He lacked family.  And you were far closer to family than his actual family was.

Mrs. Harrington took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of her nose, keeping her emotions at bay.  She pushed her bangs out of her face, slowly rising to stand.  She closed her eyes briefly, mustering up whatever strength was left in her.  Then, she made her way towards you with a collected yet somber expression etching her feminine features.

All you could do was watch her, unable to breathe as you anxiously waited to see what she was about to do.  To your surprise, she reached for the handle…and opened your door.  You sat there, frozen in place.  Mrs. Harrington didn’t hurry you back out of her car, seeing how visibly afraid you were.  Instead, she just tilted her head slightly, and you knew that was your cue.  Newfound relief surged through you, and you felt the ice pick that was lodged in your chest finally melt.  Cautiously, you made your way out of the passenger’s seat, your bare feet touching the grass.  You looked up at her timidly, finding her expression to be blank.  

Then you turned to Steve.  Beautiful, sweet Steve.  He was still on the ground, his cries steadying.  When he saw you step out of the car, he stumbled to his feet, hiccuping.  You kept your head low, shoulders slumped as you made your way towards him.  You crashed into his chest, feeling the weight of the world lifted off your shoulders as Steve’s arms wrapped around you.

Steve’s entire world had ended just a few minutes ago, and now it had begun again.  The second you were back in his arms, everything was alright.  He still hiccupped and whimpered, but you did too.  You just held each other, crying softly.  

All Paula could do was watch.  Something about the way her son held you – so protectively and so full of love – made something inside her stir.  A sour taste filled her mouth, wanting to feel touched by it but too bitter at her own miserable reality to let it do so.  Because her son resonated more love than her husband ever could.  The way that Steve clung to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he swayed you both side to side, was the truest form of love that Paula had ever seen.  Her friends had never held her like that, when she was a little girl.  Even all grown up, Chet had never held her like that.  Not even close.  Not even at their happiest, years ago.  Maybe she had assumed that their son would naturally be the same way.  

God, was she wrong.  Because as you fiddled your fingers in the hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, whispering how sorry you were, causing Steve to just shake his head against your shoulder and tell you not to be, Paula Harrington saw the epitome of true love shine through her son.  And, by extension, you. 

She hung her head, unable to look any more.  It upset her too much.  So she quietly made her way back inside, refusing to speak of this ever again.  Not with Steve, or with you.  Your parents would never know, and Chet Harrington would never know either.  

As Steve held you close to him, refusing to let you go, somehow you both knew that you would never have to worry about this again.  You weren’t going to be pulled apart, or stop being there for each other.  Because even if you had been driven away from him today, Steve would have persisted.  You would have done the same.  Tethered souls cannot be untethered.

Steve was twelve years old when he found that out.

___________

It was Steve’s fifteenth birthday when he kissed you for the very first time.

His parents were out at some party that night, having brought yours along too.  So the house was his for the night, until they drunkenly stumbled home.  All of his friends were elated.  Big house, no parents.  That’s the way Carol Perkins always puts it.  Steve Harrington’s house was the coolest on the block.  Huge pool with a deck.  Two stories, plus a man cave basement with a fully stocked mini bar that felt like an underground speakeasy.  And best of all, no parental supervision.  

Steve had become quite the hit, come freshman year.  He was captain on the swim team, and his body showed it.  His charm was as enticing as ever, winning every heart of every girl at school.  His boyishly handsome features blossomed day by day, growing cuter by the second.  His hair had become his statement piece, coining his nickname, Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.  He had it goin’ on, and everyone knew it.  Including you.

You, too, were a catch.  Your hair was longer, and you’d trimmed layers into your long red locks so that you had little side swept curtain bangs that all the girls wanted.  You were a cheerleader, but you really loved photography.  So you took that up, too.  You also had a great house for parties, which your mom was always too willing to host for you and your cheer squad girlfriends.  You never really planned those, so much as she did. And sure, you shared the same circle of friends as Steve.  But you still had that introverted loner streak in you, liking to do your own thing.  Steve was the social butterfly, his posse of admirers increasing more and more.  You were popular, given that you were the freshman heartthrob’s best friend.  ‘Steve’s girl.’  

Except you weren’t his girl, though.  Not really.  Yeah, you two were inseparable as ever.  That hasn’t changed.  But you weren’t technically his.  At least, not romantically…

“C’mon, big boy!  Chug the rest’a that beer so we can play some spin the bottle!”

Tommy H.  Somehow, that rowdy kid had gotten into your circle.  You weren’t really sure how.  He played basketball, but he was mostly on the bench.  His daddy was rich, too, but he was a drunk and a slob.  His step-mom was somewhere in her twenties, probably leaning more towards the younger end.  No one really knew much about his actual mom, but the mommy issues definitely showed.  Not that this had stopped Carol from being all over him.  Those two had their tongues down each other’s throats all the time, ever since she hit on him at one of the games.  They had snuck behind the bleachers to make out.  Probably more.  They bickered, sometimes being downright cruel to each other.  But it seemed to be their thing.

Oh yeah, and about Carol.  She was pretty much the same as she was in kindergarten.  Bratty.  Obnoxious.  Loud.  But when she had noticed you and Steve were still friends, and Tommy H. had made it clear to her that that wasn’t changing anytime soon, she’d retired her days of picking on you.  She pretty much had since that day at recess, but especially after seeing you were this untouchable princess in Steve’s world.  She didn’t get it, but she didn’t care to try.  She merely accepted it, and so you let it be.  You were stronger than you had been back then, having more of a voice.  But you were still a good girl at heart, soft spoken and a little too forgiving. 

“Oh Jesus,” Steve muttered, chuckling as he swiped at his perfect hair.  

Tommy H. has an arm slung around him, getting everyone to cheer him on.  You sat on the couch next to Stacy and Liz, your Paps Blue Ribbon in hand, grinning.  Chug, chug, chug, everyone chanted.  Soon enough, Steve’s bottle was empty and a circle was forming on the floor.  You settled on the ground across from him, shooting him a cute smirk.  He winked — and it didn’t matter how long you’d known him, it always made you blush.

“This seat taken?”

You looked up to find Christopher Cazaway standing above you, a soft smile on his lips.  You returned it, patting the empty space beside you.

“Be my guest.”

He obliged, not hesitating to take you up on the offer.  Christopher was a sophomore.  Blonde, handsome, 6’5” and a basketball superstar.  He was bound to get a scholarship somewhere great, no doubt in anyone's mind.  He was every coach’s dream, along with every girl at the school.  But as far as his personality goes, he wasn’t the jock type.  He was sort of a gentle giant, with a heartwarming smile and hearty laugh.  He could dribble and shoot hoops like no other, and he was drop dead handsome, but there wasn’t a vain bone in his body.  Christopher was surprisingly soft spoken, almost shy.  He was mature, sometimes seeming a little wise beyond his years.  He seemed to talk better with adults than teens in ways.  Still, everyone adored him.  He got invited to every party, hosting a few of his own but rarely.  

Secretly introverted kids like you noticed other like minded souls when you spotted them.  But little did you know, it was Christopher who had noticed you first.  Sure, he liked your vibrant red hair and ocean grey eyes.  Yeah, he noticed the lean build of your legs and slim curve of your neck and jawline.  Absolutely, he thought you were beautiful.  He liked the thin little rings you wore on your fingers, and he thought your laugh was adorable.  More than anything though, Christopher liked the way you carried and presented yourself.  He liked that you were so aware, observant.  You weren’t aloof, or like all the other girls that flung themselves at him.  You were real.  And he liked that.  A lot.  He kept liking more things about you, the more you both sat together in chemistry class or saw each other at basketball practice, since that’s where you had cheer meets.

“Man,” he said, crossing his legs.  “Haven’t played spin the bottle since middle school.”

You hummed a light chuckle, setting down your drink.  “Well if it makes you feel any better, I’ve never played period.”

He cocked an eyebrow, grinning at you.  “Is that right?”

You smiled sheepishly.  “I don’t get out much.”

He had to chuckle at that, knowing you were half kidding.  But he didn’t doubt that you’d never played before.  Not because you seemed awkward or uncomfortable, but because you weren’t like the other girls.  Or anyone here, for that matter.  You weren’t the typical snobby rich girl, from her snobby rich family.  You were different.

From across the room, Steve watched you two talk.  He found it interesting that Christopher and you talked with such ease, never having realized you two might be friends.  But Stacy and Liz chimed into your conversation eventually, and Tommy H. was back to hollering again.

“Everybody, shut up!” he shouted, silencing people for the most part.  He clapped his hands together, grinning like an idiot.  “Let’s fuck some lips.”

Girls made faces and sounds of disgust, while most of the dudes snickered in agreement.   You kept a straight face, not really phased by his antics.  Christopher found the kid gross, but knew he was just an ignorant freshman who thought he was hot shit.  So he didn’t really let it irk him much.  

“Wait,” Carol interjected, cracking open a peach schnapp.  “What if, like, a guy lands on a guy?”

Tommy H. snorted.  “Then you roll again.  No one’s gay up in here.  This isn’t a faggot party.”

Steve’s nose scrunched at that.  “Tommy, c’mon, man.  Don’t say that.”

You squirmed, adding softly, “that’s really not nice.”

“What?!  It’s true.”  Tommy H. took a swig of his beer, shrugging.

“Okay, then what about girls?” Carol pressed.  Her boyfriend smiled devilishly.

“Nah, that shit’s hot,” he sneered.  

“Ugh, that’s not fair!” Carol whined, but her grin contradicted her complaint.  You internally rolled your eyes.  Oh sweet misogyny, you thought to yourself.  The selective homophobia of an insecure male asshole was enough to make you wanna puke.

“Okay, can we just — play?” Someone interjected.

“Alright, alright,” Steve said, waving his hands.  He placed his empty beer bottle in the middle of the circle, looking up to wriggle his eyebrows at everyone.  “Who’s first?”

“You are, big guy,” Tommy H. said, clapping him in the back.  “Birthday boy always kicks us off.”

Some of the teens oooh’d and giggled, dramatically.  All the girls were just itching for it to be them that the bottle landed on, so that they could smooch the hot new heartthrob of Hawkins High.  Their very own small town Prince Charming.

Steve shrugged, reaching to give the bottle a spin.  

As you watched the bottle turn and turn, you couldn’t help but feel the anxious butterflies dance in your stomach.  You weren’t sure why you hoped it landed on you.  Then again, you were.  In fact, you totally were.  You’d loved Steve for as long as you could remember.  It was inevitable, given your history.  You knew he loved you, too.  It just probably wasn’t like that.  Still, you wondered if maybe he wanted the bottle to land on you too.

But it didn’t land on you.  It landed on Becky, who couldn’t help but gasp.  She looked absolutely ecstatic, giggling like a school girl.  Steve look at her with a grin and raised an eyebrow, somehow looking both shy and confident.

Oh shit.  Were you about to watch him kiss another girl?  You hadn’t had to see that before.  Sure, you knew he’d kissed another girl before.  A few, actually.  Steve’s first kiss had been Elsie Fitzgerald.  8th grade, behind the P.E. building.  You knew that, because Steve had told you first thing.  He’d nudged you in line at the cafeteria, telling you in a low voice as he plopped a milk carton on his tray.  And you’d listened, pretending that it didn’t make your heart break.  He was pretty happy about it, more so for himself than he was actually lit up about having kissed Elsie specifically.  She had passed him a note in class, asking to be his Valentine.  Your heart really sank after hearing that, wishing it had been you.  After that, Steve had a few kisses with girls under his belt — none of which were with you.

You were still waiting on your first kiss.  

And as that reminder floated around in your head, you watched Becky crawl across the floor to lean in and kiss your best friend on the lips.  He sat still, kissing her with ease.  You wondered what it felt like.  The touch of his lips, which you always thought looked so soft.  Becky lingered a little while, and eventually Steve pulled away with a charming smile.  She squealed, flitting back to her seat and flipping her hair.  The butterflies in your stomach felt blue, but you kept a light smile on your face to mask it. 

Now, Tommy spun the bottle. One by one, teens kissed.  Some girls even kissed, making you flush.  You watched Steve kiss a couple other girls, all of them doing a horrible job at concealing their giggling fits.  At some point, it was your turn to spin — and it landed right between Steve and Tommy H. 

Now you really felt butterflies in your stomach. Their dance was a little angry this time, though.  Your anxiety spiked, dreading the thought of kissing Tommy but nerves wrecked as you thought about getting to kiss Steve.

Your eyes glanced up at your best friend by default, finding that he was already looking back at you shyly.  Tommy barked a laugh, clapping his hands.

“Look, I don’t wanna make any calls here,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender.  “But uhhh, I’ll let the birthday boy take this one.  As much as I’d love to rock your world, princess.”

Your eyes narrowed at him.  “That’s one way to put it.”

“C’mon, birthday boy,” Carol snickered.  “Kiss your best friend.”

Steve felt himself blush, hoping he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.  God, he had wondered what it felt like to kiss you for so long without even realizing that he had until this very moment.  The way you were looking at him right now, looking so calm and content, he never would have known that you were so completely in love with him.  He was pretty sure that he was a party of one, in that department.  

Tommy kept making gross kissy noises.  Steve cleared his throat, feigning lighthearted cockiness as he looked wryly at Tommy.  

“Knock it off, man,” he mumbled, turning back to face you.  

You watched him eye you with curiosity, as if he was silently asking you if this was okay.  But you just smiled warmly, welcoming the contact.  So Steve got on his knees and crawled over to you, meeting you halfway.  As he got closer to you, he could see those tiny sun kissed freckles that lightly dusted your nose, and the smooth surface of your porcelain cheek.  He could see the light whisk of mascara on your eyelashes, and the very neutral shade of lipstick on your full lips.  He felt himself swallow, his usual bravado failing him.  You looked so gentle, sweet as ever.  He wondered if your tongue tasted as sweet as you were…

You sat back on your knees and heels, hands placed in your lap as you looked at him, patient and a little sheepish.  Steve was so close to you now, basking in the scent of your soft perfume.  It smelled like the ocean, with faint traces of coconut and vanilla.  He wanted to kiss you.  He really did.  

“Oh my god, kiss already!” Carol screeched.  

But neither of you flinched, even as the others echoed their sentiments.  You breathed a tiny laugh, making Steve grin.  Without thinking, he found himself placing a hand to the curve of your jaw.  Oh.  He hasn’t done that with the other girls.  His breath lightly hitched at the contact, realizing he’d never actually been this close to you.  Which made no sense, given you’d fallen asleep in the same bed for how many years now?  But this was different.  This type of intimacy wasn’t the same.

You subtly leaned into his touch, eyes never leaving his.  His thumb stroked your cheek, the corner of his lip tugging upwards.  Your noses touched, the sharp tip of his against the little perky end of yours.  His breath was warm against your skin, feeling like a blanket wrapping itself around your face.  You both kept leaning in, slowly.  Ever so slowly.

Finally, his bottom lip grazed yours.  And those butterflies in your stomach were doing a full blown ballet now.  Steve felt his heart skip a beat.  Maybe several beats.  

Damn, he thought.  Since when did kissing feel like this?

It was the way your lips moved against his, so graceful and supple.  The way your fair skin felt like satin beneath his finger tips.  Steve felt a rush of euphoria overcome him, reveling in the feeling of your mouth against his.  Becky didn’t kiss like that.  Elsie didn’t, or any of the other girls.  People always said that kissing is an art.  Steve did have a reputation for being a good kisser, even at just fifteen years old.  He just didn’t really think much of it until he was enchanted by your kiss.  

Part of him thought that there was no way you hadn’t kissed somebody before.  Not with how incredible you felt brushing your lips with his.  Then again — maybe it was because you had never been kissed before that it was so magical.  That innocent bliss of being ‘untouched,’ not yet tainted by anyone or anything.

Meanwhile, you reveled in the rhapsody of Steve’s kiss.  It was everything you ever could have dreamed it would be, and more.  His lips were soft, cloud-like to the touch.  He was gentle in the ways you thought he might be rough, and tame in the ways you thought might be wild.  He didn’t rush anything, taking his time with even the most microscopic of movements.  The light yet firm grasp of his hand on your jaw was slightly edging down towards your neck, and it was all you could do not to hum with lovesick satisfaction.

Yeah, no, everyone thought.  He definitely hadn’t been this tender when kissing the other girls here.

It made those other girls watch you with envy, guys cocking an eyebrow and making immature, snide remarks under their breath.  It was so obvious, the magnetic pull between the two of you.  Anyone could see it.  Even the two of you did, but neither of you would ever admit that.  At least not anytime soon.

And as the kiss ended all too soon — well, too soon for you guys, not necessarily the others — Steve’s pillow soft lips parted from yours as he ever so slightly pulled back to look at you.  Your angelic face was still just an inch or so away from his, your eyelashes fluttering open to reveal your grey irises, exposing a new tint of lovesick blue.  They sparkled, dancing as you looked into his brown eyes that now looked more like the color honey.  You bit your lip, a timid smile finding your freshly kissed pout.  

God, Steve thought.  He would've kissed you again, right then and there.

But as Tommy H. hooted and hollered, snapping your two out of your gaze, reality sunk in again.  This was a party, and it was just a game.  It wasn’t a real kiss.  It was prompted by a bottle and reckless youth.  Nothing more.

Right?

“Well alrighty then, lovebirds,” some guy chided with a dark laugh.

You blushed, casting your eyes downwards.  You composed yourself, watching Steve do the same.  Yep, it was just a dream.

“Yeah, since when did this become a love making session?” Tommy H. jested.

Steve shot Tommy a scowl, before watching you scooch back to where you’d been sitting.  You gave him a shy smile, twiddling your thumbs in your lap.  Steve quickly scooted back to his place too, across from you in the circle.  He smiled back at you softly, before Tommy gave him a macho shove.  Steve shoved him back, but with half the strength.  He was still snapping out of it.  Soon, he cleared his throat, forcing his mental fantasies to the back of his brain again.

“Alright, next up,” Steve said, straightening his hair.  Fuck, did anyone else see how nervous he felt?  Apparently not, because everyone seemed to resume the game like nothing had ever happened.

Christopher clicked his tongue and slapped his hands on his knees.  “Welp,” he said, leaning forward.  “Guess it’s me.”

He gave the bottle a good spin.  

Lo and behold, it landed on you.

“Oh shit!” Tommy H. exclaimed, rolling over into a ridiculously unnecessary fit of laughter.  

Carol made obnoxiously loud remarks, too, along with lots of people in the circle.

Yeah.  Oh shit, indeed.

“Aww, little princess is getting all the kisses tonight,” she cooed condescendingly, her high pitched voice so fake and sugary sweet.

You felt your cheeks flush again, allowing yourself to tinker a laugh.  You turned to face Christopher, finding him rubbing his neck with a bashful smile on his face.  He looked at you with slightly timid eyes, chuckling nervously.  He was nervous?  Why would he be nervous, you wondered?

Oddly, you felt very at ease about the situation.  It was just Christopher.  He was always kind to you, and a good friend since you started high school.  If you’d had to kiss anybody else in the circle, you would prefer it be him than some guy you hardly knew.  And you certainly hoped it wouldn’t land on Tommy. 

You shrugged your shoulders, giving him a little grin.  He grinned back, brightly.  The corners of his eyes crinkled, and it was adorable really.  

Given that he was seated right next to you, no awkward crawling towards each other had to take place.  You just pivoted to face him, comfortably.  This kiss didn’t make you nervous.  You’d just gotten your first one out of the way, with the one guy you had been in love with your whole life.  So a second one with someone who was just a friend?  It seemed pretty easy.

Christopher had his eyes intently on you, which dropped down to look at your lips then back up to your eyes.  He leaned back on one hand, which he placed slightly behind you firmly into the carpet.  It gently brushed against your hip, his tone arm ghosting over the fabric of your dress.  He leaned in closer, slow and calculated, so that he was slightly looking up at you.  You still weren’t nervous, though, even as you looked into his dark blue eyes.  You just smiled, waiting.  His loods became hooded as he tilted his head just right, so that yours could tilt the opposite way whenever your lips made contact.  Sure enough, his lips found yours, and it was the most grounding kiss.  It was sweet, a little firmer than Steve’s.  He was soft, just a little more assertive.  Suddenly you felt his other hand cup the back of your neck, his touch tender and caring but secure.  It surprised you, but you didn’t pull away.  In fact, you instinctively placed a hand on his knee. 

If you hadn’t been busy locking lips with Christopher, you would have seen the melancholy expression on Steve’s face.  But you didn’t.  

Steve hopelessly watched you kiss the handsome sophomore, overcome with a sense of dread.  He hadn’t taken this into account when playing the game.  You know, that he’d actually have to watch you kiss another guy.  Maybe that wasn’t really the problem, though.  No, the problem was the way that Christopher kissed you.  Was still kissing you.  Steve could have sworn that he saw the blonde athlete move his lips against yours a second time, and envy creeped up his spine.  Christopher definitely hadn’t kissed Linda or Molly like that earlier in the game, when the bottle had landed on him during their turn.  Nah, this was just with you.  Why the hell was he kissing you like that?

…why the hell was he still kissing you like that?

Steve squirmed.  He felt as though he might laugh, or shout, or blurt something without being able to control himself, and he probably would have had it not been for you finally breaking contact with Christopher.  Oh thank Christ, Steve thought, as he let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding this whole time.

You simply gave Christopher a warm smile, but your eyes looked slightly dazed and confused.  Because you were.  It had caught you a little off guard, the way that he’d just kissed you.  It definitely lasted a little longer than needed.  Not that you minded it.  You didn’t really know what to think of it, actually.  One thing was for sure, his gaze on you was not one he’d given any of the other girls that night.  You knew that much.  You might’ve been uncharacteristically oblivious to Steve’s feelings for you, but you weren’t blind to someone else’s.  Before now, though, you never really thought that Christopher felt anything for you aside from friendship.  But now, it seemed that he did.  It seemed he very much did.

Huh, you thought.  Interesting.

You still hadn’t looked over to see Steve’s disheartened expression in the midst of all the immature teenagers in a circle, making a series of noises and comments following the kiss.  He hoped that no one was watching him.  Then again, would he even care if they did?  That didn’t matter, not when he cared way more about the fact that some other guy was looking at you like that.  It didn’t sit right.  It really didn’t sit right.  

But what was he gonna do about it?  Say, “Hey Christopher, it’s my birthday, so maybe back off my girl?”  No, because you weren’t technically his.  You were your own.

…but your heart was his.

…and his heart was yours.

Steve doesn’t really remember much after that.  He knew they hadn’t been playing for much longer, and that eventually everyone wanted to shotgun some more beers.  He knew that Linda and Becky had been saying something to him in the lavish living room, as they twirled their hair and batted their lashes.  He knew that Tommy H. had been daring everyone to jump in the pool, dragging Carol in with him.  Teens screeched and hollered, splashing and laughing while the Eagles blasted in the background from the Harrington’s flashy stereo inside the house.

Steve does remember when “Sweet Emotion” by Aerosmith had started to play.  He was leaning against his kitchen island, making small talk with some of the guys.  You were out by the pool, red solo cup in hand, and you had started to sway to yourself.  The skirt of your dress flicked at the corners, your toned legs sashaying you from side to side.  You turned a little, so that he could see your profile.  You were grinning ear to ear, in your own little world.  He loved when you did that.  You were so damn adorable when you did that.  You lifted a hand into the air – the one not holding your cup of booze – closing your eyes, and singing the words.

Sweet emotion…

Sweet emotion…

You talk about things that nobody cares

Wearing out things that nobody wears

You turn so that you’re now facing the open sliding glass door, opening your eyes as you fix your gaze on Steve.  Your eyes are a little hazy, but still glow.  You point your finger at Steve, serenading him in your buzzed stupor.  Your grin deepens as you sing the next words along with Steven Tyler.

You’re calling my name, but I gotta make clear

I can’t say, baby, where I’ll be in a year

Steve can feel himself smiling like an idiot, shaking his head as he lets out a throaty chuckle that’s drowned out by the music.  He bites his lip absentmindedly, watching you just exist.  You throw your head back, smiling at the sky, hips still swaying.  

Stacy makes her way over to you from the other side of the pool, definitely more drunk than you were.  She sings loudly, catching your attention.  You look down from the black night sky to look at her, and you laugh when you see her wanting to join you.  She grabs your hand, twirling you around and singing everything off key.

Some sweat hog mama with a face like a gent

Said my get up and go, must've got up and went

Well I got good news, she's a real good liar

'Cause the backstage boogie sets your pants on fire

As the guitar solo rips through the stereo speakers, your dancing intensifies.  Everyone in the pool seem to be getting rowdier, also singing Aerosmith at the top of their lungs.

Stacy’s footing betrays her and she stumbles, laughing drunkenly.  You catch her, making sure that she’s okay and stifling a laugh.  But once you see that she’s clearly fine, you laugh too.  Liz makes her way out of the pool to check on her, squatting down and clutching her hands and still singing while Stacy just keeps laughing.

Steve takes the opportunity to approach you as you stand alone again, sneaking up quickly to grab you and spin you around.  You squeal, feeling his chest pressed to your back as your legs dangle off the ground.  You hold onto his toned arms tightly, giggling uncontrollably.  When he sets you back down, you turn so that you’re looking directly at him.  

Sweet emotion…

Sweet emotion…

Your stomach does flip-flops, seeing his signature Steve Harrington smiled directed only at you.  His brown eyes hold a certain mischief in them, and you can’t help but feel a rush of love for this boy you’d known since you were just barely in kindergarten.  He lifts your hand to twirl you, and suddenly you’re six years old again, dancing in your treehouse with Steve.  The real world ceases to exist, and it’s just the two of you in your own fantasy world.  No matter what ups and downs, highs and lows, good days and bad days, heartache and joy, that reality throws both of your way – the one constant you both have had is each other.  Somehow, that’s never changed. 

You both sing to each other, hand in hand and hips in time with the music.

I pulled into town in a police car

Your daddy said I took it just a little too far

You're telling her things but your girlfriend lied

You can't catch me 'cause the rabbit done died

Yes it did

Now everyone around you is losing their mind, screaming the words and partying like animals as the song continues to blare.  It’s an 80’s rock-n-roll kind of vibe, full of teen angst, booze and sexual tension.  Guys shotgun more beer by the pool, couples make out in the deep end.  Girls hold each other with limp limbs and sloppy smiles, slurring the words and proclaiming their girl power love for each other.  They won’t remember it tomorrow, but for tonight it’s the glorious eternal truth.

As for you – Nicole St. James, the freshman mystery girl and princess in the making – you’ve only got eyes and moves for your best friend in the world.  Steve Harrington, Hawkins High’s soon-to-be very own King Steve.  Two best friends and lovers in denial, hopelessly devoted to one another, just without the title.  You both dance around the truth together on his posh pool deck.  The confident shake of his hips and thrusts of yours fool you blind from seeing that you are just as equally afraid as he is to make the wrong move.

Stand in the front just a shakin' your ass

I'll take you backstage, you can drink from my glass

I'll talk about something you can sure understand

'Cause a month on the road and I'll be eating from your hand

Steve knows that something’s gotta give.  He knows that it can’t go on like this forever.  But for him, this is safe.  This is forever.  What you two have guarantees that you’ll both make it.  That you’ll never go away.  You won’t abandon him, or lose interest in him.  If he keeps his distance, even tangled up in your arms when dancing in his backyard or falling asleep next to you, then he’ll always keep you close.  All the money in the world, but he could never afford to lose that.  Not ever.

And you don’t say anything to make him change his mind.  To make him ask you to be his.  To make a move beyond a kiss shared in a public game of spin-the-bottle.  To tell you that he doesn’t just love you – but that he is in love with you.  You don’t confess it either, no matter how fiercely you want to do exactly that.  Because as selfish as it was, you were content too.  You never minded being on your own, but a world without Steve stopped being fathomable in 1972 on that brisk afternoon in your treehouse.  The second he had knocked on your pastel yellow door, in his little sage green sweater, jeans and converse, your solitude had made room for a second person.  He was your other half, so it really wasn’t even surrendering solitude.  It was simply completing it.  Steve completed it.  Completed you.

_________________

To be continued…

VOLUME II next month 🖤

TAG LIST: @loveshotzz @creelhousesteve @t-lostinworlds @freezaz123 @zbeez-outlet @cutiecusp @unhealthyobservationsloves @sunioli

[steveharrington]

can u elaborate abt s4 not feeling like st? i don't disagree but i'm curious what ur thoughts are. i also felt s3 really didn't feel like st, like it's such a tonal shift from the first two seasons (and it has a LOT of issues) but i kind of love it anyway so.

before i try to put it into words i have to issue a disclaimer so here we go: i’m not trying to suggest that stranger things was ever like an indie show or underground or had a small fanbase at all, i know that it’s been insanely popular ever since s1 like i fully acknowledge that. however. s4, to me, feels like it was written to maximize online buzz instead of prioritizing the story, more so than any other season, and it worked which makes the fanbase feel different.

the first three seasons were obviously insanely popular and they did have these big moments that became referenced to death. i mean s1 alone spurred the whole barb obsession, the pink dress blonde wig el halloween costumes, the recreations of joyce’s light wall, the eggo jokes, plus people just went crazy like inviting david harbour to their weddings and shit. but that was all…natural. prettymuchit’s eric striffler talked about this in their stranger things commentary track so i’m ripping from him but he essentially said, in reference to s1, it’s insanely impressive how effortlessly the show managed to create iconic imagery that feels like it’s from an 80s movie in 2016. the duffers know that, so every season they ramp it up more and more to try to capitalize off that success. and sometimes i don’t mind it! i know people took issue with steve & dustin in s3, complained that their dynamic was being strung along just for memes or whatever, but to me their bond still felt genuine and authentic in that season so i personally was cool with it.

s4 just feels…rushed. which is insane because they had 3 years to work on it. purely speculating here, i think perhaps the duffers and netflix knew that it’d been forever and people were starting to forget stranger things, so all those rewrites and added content were kinda written with the idea of maximizing viewership in mind. that’s how we get ideas like: creating a fan favorite character whose imminent death is shoved down your throat so hard that the actual moment just rings hollow, shock killing and then un-killing max, bringing stancy back out of nowhere, starting and then dropping multiple storylines as the season progressed, giving el and hopper the exact same storylines they had in season two, having brenner take up insane amounts of screen time, etc etc etc. just…bad choices! and bad choices that you can tell were manufactured to either go viral (eddie and max) or start debate (stancy) while basically forfeiting the quality of the show in the process.

okay here’s where i’m gonna get bitchy. again i know the shows always been popular, and i like eddie, but eddie….took away a lot of the fun of the fanbase. and this is coming from someone who writes eddie fic!! i love him!! but i hate when any one specific character just completely monopolizes all content and conversation about a show, and among casual fans eddie completely 100% did this. you cannot see a single tweet about ST without thousands of replies all being like “is eddie coming back??? is eddie alive?????” and it just annoys me! i don’t like it! it makes the fan reaction and aftermath of this season just…different than the others and a lot less fun.

i think for me the different vibe all comes down to the fact that i didn’t like season 4. i was really disappointed after i finished it and honestly very sad i remember texting em being like “i don’t want to admit i’m disappointed because then that makes it real” but it’s been 5 months now and i can fully say: i was disappointed. it wasn’t what i was expecting, it wasn’t what i wanted, it was just not the quality of the show i know and love! which again is all subjective! and there’s a lot of good moments from it, but s4 just doesn’t hold a candle to the other 3 and it’s somehow impossibly made me …. not excited for s5. which i didn’t think was something that could happen!!

[watchmenanon]

'Stranger Things 2' Creators Wanted A Sequel That Topped The Original

November 14, 20171:29 PM ET

Heard on Fresh Air

Growing up, twin brothers Ross and Matt Duffer loved movies — especially Tim Burton's Batman. In fact, the creators of the Netflix series Stranger Things 2 credit Burton — and his over-the-top style — with inspiring them to try their hands at filmmaking.

"Tim Burton — he's not exactly a subtle filmmaker," Ross Duffer says. "I mean that in a good way. ... I remember as a kid even you can go, 'Someone is behind all of this. It's the same person who is doing Beetlejuice, who's doing Batman.'"

Beginning in the third grade, the brothers started writing, shooting and editing their own movies. Now grown, they're still at it. Their 2016 Netflix series, Stranger Things, followed a group of middle school friends who investigate supernatural goings-on in the fictional town of Hawkins, Ind.

The series was a hit, and the brothers saw the second season as a sequel, which initially worried Netflix. "Most sequels are generally disappointments," Ross says.

But the Duffers thought of Stranger Things 2 as an opportunity to expand on their show's first season. "We wanted it to feel bigger than season one," Matt Duffer says. "We wanted to scale it up a little bit."

On the success of Stranger Things

Matt Duffer: There's so much content out there in the world that the fear was you're just going to get lost. Even if people do like it, and we thought best case scenario is we're appealing to people like us who are nostalgic for this style of storytelling. So the surprise to us came when especially the younger generation started to fall in love with these characters, and then start tweeting about it and then word started to spread.

Netflix was always behind the show and they always loved it. ... What they told us is that they were hoping that word of mouth would spread, but it's going to take some time. Word of mouth is certainly what got the show its popularity, but I think everyone was taken aback by how quickly that word of mouth spread.

On auditioning over 1,000 child actors

Ross Duffer: One of our favorite things is the casting of these kids, just because it was certainly over a thousand, and some of that gets weeded out by our casting director and then otherwise you can generally tell instantly with this stuff.

You don't need to watch a full audition and debate whether this kid is right or not. ... Generally, with all of our main kids, you knew within a few seconds of them speaking, because what we're looking for is something that felt authentic, because there's this sort of Disney Channel kid, which is overdoing it. They're trying to be cute. Whereas our kids, to us, just felt there was something authentic about it. ... Once we found this group of kids, we ended up shaping the characters around them.

On the creepy plants that appear in Stranger Things 2

Matt: I found snakes creepy. That's why we have all these vines and stuff ... in season two that move and grab people. ... [In] the classic sci-fi stuff, there's always something very organic about some of the supernatural environments. ...

I was just watching the 1978 Invasion of the Body Snatchers, which is one of my favorites, and they've got those pods that shoot out these disgusting duplicates, like flower petals spewing out a baby Jeff Goldblum — it's the worst/best. I'm sure we're pulling from all that.

On co-writing screenplays together

Matt: A lot of our work is actually done on Google Docs, and so we don't speak to each other. It's a really weird thing where we're both on headphones, not talking, and just typing on the same document at the same time.

We're in the same room, same office. We have separate desks. We're not, like, literally right next to each other, because we'd probably punch each other every once in a while, so it's good there's a little bit of physical distance.

We'll get into Google Doc wars, where I type a line of dialogue or an idea for the scene — he'll delete it. I'll go write it back in — he'll delete it again. And then the headphones come off and then we actually have to have a conversation about it. So it's a little ridiculous.

[kaya-not-kaya]

I was bored so I rewatched season 1 and i think there are more girls (and maybe boys) who likes Will Byers than we thought lol.

This is the scene where the party took El to the school to help them find Will. There was a girl wiping her tears when she heard about Will’s death and they did show us her face on the next scene. She clearly looked sad there.

And on this scene, we can see that were all the people who attended Will’s funeral. We have a little boy on the right side, on the left side we have Jennifer Hayers (lol) with another boy and some girls there. And in the middle, we have a girl with black hair standing behind Lonnie.

Remember when Dustin tell the party in excitement that Jennifer Hayers was crying for Will in his funeral? That means Dustin wants the party to know that Jennifer Hayers likes Will. When the camera points to her to show her crying, guess who is on that scene with her? That’s the boy standing on her left side lol. If we don’t carefully pay attention to this scene, we won’t even notice him there because the party’s pov is all on Jennifer. The Duffers could easily focus only on her you know, but they chose to do this instead lol.

And on the next scene we have this boy sitting with another girl (she was on his left side when they was in the cemetery) and they both looks sad. His mother puts her hand on his shoulder and talks to him, tries to make him feel better i guess. Then we see Jennifer, she’s on his right side again (it’s a little bit hard to see her, but she’s sitting next to the woman on the right side of the picture).

The girl with black hair, who was behind Lonnie is sitting on the same table with Jennifer and on her right side, just like how they were in the cemetery again. We couldn’t see her face when she was there, but we knew she cried so hard by looking at her movement. She couldn’t hold her crying so she couldn’t help but clenching her fists and she had to use her other hand to cover her mouth to calm herself down. It was fast, but we could catch it there.

And finally, somehow the boy ends up sitting in front of the party, and it seems like he is slightly between Lucas and Dustin, so i think Mike can notice him if he looks at Lucas or Dustin lol.

I really tried my best to write this but my English isn’t really good so please take it easy on me and yes, hope you enjoy this! Love you all!

[willel]

The CIA, the military and/or Owens still have classified documents about Brenner’s experiments, don’t you think? Why would have they destroyed everything ? And about Brenner wanting to explore dimensions even before El yeeted Henry, I think the anon was referring to this interview (the answer about what Brenner knew about Henry): https://deadline.com/2022/07/stranger-things-duffer-brothers-interview-season-five-1235058041/

I see it this way. Obviously not everything was destroyed and they've kept documentation on the victims and subjects. But the government is trying to "clean up a mess". They killed all of Brenner's scientists. They killed Brenner. Owens is probably locked up somewhere. To me, the next logical step would be for all that documentation to go "missing" or "suffer from a random freak burning accident". I don't think it's out of the question that Sullivan and his ilk will do anything to make it appear that this isn't the government's fault, including getting rid of all associated evidence and people.

Too conspiratorial? Maybe. But just seems logical for some corrupt shady individuals.

Are you guys talking about this line?

MATT DUFFER: The second, really. He knew what this kid did and also what he was capable of when he was young. Brenner’s going, how can I mold this character, but not just into a weapon? That’s really how he sold it to the government, but for him as a scientist, it’s like, what other worlds can this kid show me about how our universe works? So, he’s really just that scientist who’s not really thinking about the consequences. He just keeps pushing, pushing, pushing, and he’s using the government’s money by saying hey we can fight the Soviets with this kid. It’s something we will get into in Season 5. What happened to that program once Henry became involved and how Brenner evolved it into including multiple kids. We’re going to go back and see some of that in Season 5.

To me, this is a really basic scientific question. If a biologist gets a 3,000,000 year old sample of some virus that wiped out all life on our planet millions of years ago or something absurd like that, they probably look at it in fascination the same way Brenner looked at Henry. "Yes... tell me how you killed everything in the span of a few years. Give me all your secrets. Tell me your story little germ from millions of years ago. Prove to me you are a mass murderer of single cell organisms."

I don't think this is implying Brenner knew Henry knew about other dimensions. I just think Henry has proven that their universe has extraordinary things like super powers, so he would use this child to discover more. If the timeline adds up, I think Henry would've been found in the midst of MKUltra so of course Brenner would want to unlock Henry's secrets and use it to his advantage.

It's the same feeling he probably got when El opened a gate for the first time and entirely focused on her and her alone moving forward.

All the theoretical puny spoon bending shit from before was nothing in the face of Henry and later El.

If we were to take that statement more literally, I still don't think it's really a new revelation if Brenner knew other worlds existed? The theory of other universes or parallel universes was already running rampant in the science community back then. Thought leaders and well known scientists were casually discussing it or even writing books about it. Mr. Clark even quotes Carol Sagan's thoughts on it way back in season 1 when the kids were poking around about other dimensions.

So I don't think "Brenner knew other worlds existed and knew people with powers could enter it," would be a new or shocking plot twist or revelation.

This is the actual part that should bring questions to your mind:

What happened to that program once Henry became involved and how Brenner evolved it into including multiple kids. We’re going to go back and see some of that in Season 5.

MKUltra started in 1953 and Henry was captured in 1959 if I remember right. Do I think Brenner pitted Henry up the MKUltra subjects or used him to mess with their minds and bodies without their knowledge? Hell yeah I do. In fact, I'm almost positive he knew exactly who Terry was and everything about her even if she didn't know him. That's why he was so excited about El.

I've always had a theory that Henry could scope out other psychics (which plays into the 'Why Will' theories I have) and Brenner used him to find other children.

It's how Brenner knew how to train the other children in the first place. From telekinesis, remote viewing, to people searching, to illusions, etc. All of it stemmed from torturing studying Henry.

If I strain my brain really hard, I can assume we'll see Henry somehow interacting with MKUltra subjects, including Terry. It might further explain how Henry's power works and why he chooses certain people. Especially because of this statement in the same interview which I remember Noah mentioning as well:

ROSS DUFFER: The biggest one being we set up in the Volume One finale how the Upside Down is stuck in time on the day of Will’s disappearance. That’s something we don’t answer in volume two, and that is really the key plot point, the key question that is going to drive our final season as we try to wrap up this story and give the rest of the answers out.

[fictionqween]

Rainbow in the Dark

Summary: Tessa Dixon never thought that taking her little brother to his guitar lessons would end up changing her life for the better. (Better summary coming soon lol)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x OFC (multi-chapter)

Warnings: 18+, Slow burn, eventual SMUT, bad language, drug usage, mentions of self-harm. 

IMPORTANT: This takes place a year and a bit before the events of Season 4. 

Authors Note: Like my previous post states, I’ve been so out of the loop on writing fanfiction. Literally this ideas has been playing in my head nonstop since Season 4 was released and I was happy to keep it as a daydream until the Duffers did us dirty with that finale. This is my attempt at fixing it in all our brains. Please let me know if there is something I’ve not done right formatting wise, it’s been a while. This is for you Eddie bby. If there is enough interest in the fic I’m sure I’ll do a few one-shots based off the character. I’m nervous to post but here goes!

Please note that I don’t own any characters except the ones I’ve created and this is just for fun. Nobody has permission to republish this work. I may eventually end up putting it on ArchiveofourOwn if there’s enough interest.

_________________________________________________________

Chapter One: Walking on Sunshine

January 3rd, 1985

“Tessa, for the last time, can you please get Harry ready for his lessons?”

The loud, booming voice dominated Steve Perry’s lucious, dulcet vocals, despite how loud they rang from the boombox on my desk. Sighing, I finished tying the shoelaces of my black hightops and snatched my bag from where it rested beside me on the bed, unwillingly killing the music to get ready for the day. 

Saturdays were always busy in my household, and had been for as long as I could remember. Dad worked shift work at the fabrication plant just before the outskirts of Hawkins, and mom owned her own beauty salon in town. They spent more time working than they did at home, which left me to step in as a secondary mother figure to my 9 year old brother, Harrison. 

Speaking of the devil, a head of black curly hair poked itself around my semi-closed door, a nervous smile ghosting across his thin lips. Emerald green eyes met mine, apprehension swirling in their depths. 

“Hey buddy,” I greeted softy, giving him an encouraging smile. “Almost ready to go?”

“Y-yeah,” he stuttered out, gently pushing the door open a bit more to step inside the room. 

His lean, tiny figure looked almost miniature beside the guitar case he was carrying, and my heart lurched at the excited yet fearful look on his pale features. 

Ever since he was born, I knew Harrison was different. He was soft spoken, timid, and oh so kind. It drove my hardworking, steel toe boot wearing, no nonsense Dad up the fucking wall to have a son so soft around the edges….a Sally, he had called him once during an argument with my mom. In fact, my Dad had never been shy to vocalize what an utter disappointment Harry and I were to him after a few beers under his belt. 

I, on the other hand, adored Harrison with every fibre of my being. I was 8 when he was born, and knew the moment I held him in my arms that he needed me to protect him from the world, no matter what it cost. Where my dad saw softness and weakness, I saw beauty and kindness. We were like two sailors, clinging to one another for survival. Most days, I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

When Harrison had expressed an interest in getting an electric guitar for Christmas, my dad leapt at the chance to fulfill his dreams. It still wasn’t “masculine” enough of a hobby for Dad, who would have preferred him to play softball or football, but it got him away from his books and into something a little bit more acceptable in his eyes. 

It was the first and only time I was grateful for something my dad did. To see Harrison’s face light up with joy on Christmas Day when he opened his brand new guitar is a moment I never wanted to forget. 

And now here he was just over a week later, standing at the entrance of my bedroom with the most hopeful expression in his eyes, ready to start his very first day of lessons. 

“Alright buddy, if you’ve got everything, then let’s do it.”

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I stepped forward and easily took the case from my brother, knowing he would struggle with the weight of it. Smiling, he took my hand and the two of us walked down the stairs and out of the house, calling a half-hearted goodbye to our dad on the way.  

I could sense Harrison’s nerves, not in the way he spoke (as he was a boy of very few words), but in the way he tousled his dark locks and bounced his thin knee up and down. 

“Listen bud, it’s not a big deal, okay? It’s your first lesson and no one is expecting you to be some rock god,” I gave a chuckle, patting his leg in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. “Just go in there and have fun.”

He was quiet for a few moments, bright eyes watching me as I drove our old Mustang into town. 

“Will you…will you stay?” he asked quietly, the bouncing in his leg only picking up speed. 

“At your lesson?” I asked, quirking a brow but not taking my eyes off the road. 

“Y-y-yes,” he stammered out, a habit he was prone to when nervous.

I paused for a moment, mulling that over. 

“If it will make you feel better if I did, then yes. I’ll stay.”

He didn’t speak for the rest of the drive, but I could tell that he was grinning widely when he turned his face back to the window. 

We pulled into McGill’s Music Store with only a few moments to spare and I ushered Harrison into the store, myself hot on his heels with his guitar in hand. 

“Well, well, Ms. Dixon. I haven’t seen you in here since you quit band!” Mr. McGill greeted from behind the counter, a smile on his face at seeing an old customer.

“Hey Mr. McGill,” I replied breathlessly, setting the guitar case down as I came to a stop at the front counter. “Yeah it’s been ages since I’ve picked up a clarinet. But I’m not here for me, I’m here for Harrison.”

My hand fell to my brother’s shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze as he meekly waved at the graying shopkeeper.

“Ah yes, your Mom was in here before Christmas registering him for lessons. It was a guitar she got you for Christmas, if I’m remembering correctly?”

“Y-yes sir,” Harrison responded, making Mr. McGill’s smile soften considerably at the tell-tale sign of his nerves.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Dixon. You’ve got one of the finest guitar coaches that Indiana has to offer. You’ll have so much fun.”

Harrison nodded but didn’t speak again, looking up at me as if he was pleading for relief from this small talk. 

“His instructor is already waiting for him in room 2. You’re welcome to stay with him if you want, Tessa,” he informed me, an unspoken agreement passing between us as we locked eyes. 

“Thanks Mr. McGill. Will do!”

Hurrying Harrison so as to not to keep his instructor waiting, we headed to the other side of the shop where the classrooms were nestled. Harrison held the door open for me as I lugged his heavy guitar case over the threshold, giving him a warm smile. 

Setting the case down in front of me, I looked up and was caught completely off-guard at who was waiting for us. Sitting in one of two foldable chairs…. was Eddie Munson. Long, curly brown hair framed his pale, angular face, and his wide dark brown eyes met mine with a hint of surprise. 

He stood awkwardly and quickly, and I noticed he was wearing his trademark Dio vest and Hellfire Club t-shirt. It was rare to see him without it, he lived and breathed his Club. We had only chatted a few times here and there in the time we’d gone to school together, and I’d found him very enigmatic yet funny, and not at all deserving of his title of “Freak”. He was a year older than me and should have graduated last year, but he had flunked Senior Year and there were rumours swirling he was on track to fail again this year. 

His aloof attitude toward school and extracurricular activities made it hard for me to grasp that he would be the one teaching Harrison every weekend. 

“Tessa Dixon….right?” he pointed at me, silver rings glittering in the bright morning sun that was filtering in through the windows. 

“Yeah, that’s right. Hey Eddie,” I said, an awkward smile splaying across my lips. “I had no idea you taught lessons here.”

He gave a little shrug, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Gotta make ends meet, right?”

“Fair enough,” I laughed, clasping Harrison on the shoulder again. “This is my little brother Harrison. He’s the one here for lessons. He just got his guitar for Christmas and he may not look it right now, but he’s super excited.”

Those dark, inquisitive brown orbs turned to take in Harrison’s appearance, and I could have sworn I noticed a softness creep into their swirling depths. 

“Hey man,” he said, raising a hand again. “I’m Eddie. I’ll be the one teaching you to shred like hell on that thing. You up for the challenge?”

My heart swelled at the soft tone Eddie’s voice took on, clearly reading Harrison’s body language and sensing his distress. Even so, Harrison still turned to me, looking up at me with anxiety filled eyes. I knew what that look could lead to, and the need to help calm him overtook me. 

“Listen, buddy,” I said softly, kneeling down in front of him. “Eddie here can shred with the best of them. When we were in public school, this guy was killing it in our talent shows.”

Gesturing behind me to Eddie, I waited until I saw Harrison peer over my shoulder at him before drawing his attention back to me. 

“I would not bring you to lessons with just anybody, okay? Give him a chance, he knows what he’s doing. Okay?”

After a few moments of silence, Harrison finally nodded. 

“Alright my dude, let’s do this,” I said with a grin, high-fiving him before standing. “Eddie…do you mind if I stay for the lesson? I promised him I would, he’s just nervous.”

“Uh, no, I don’t mind at all. Here, let me…” he trailed off, snagging up his chair and rushing it over to the side of the room and eccentrically and exaggeratedly gestured that I sit.  “M’lady.” 

I blushed and thanked him, pulling my bag into my lap. I watched as Harrison got seated, cautiously opening up his guitar case and then Eddie was soon beside him, another chair in hand. Knowing he was in good hands, I pulled my copy of Neuromancer out of my bag and thumbed through the dog-eared pages, finding my place with ease. 

I had every intention of reading through the session, but Harrison’s soft laughter, a sound usually reserved for me and only me, floated over to me from where I sat on the sidelines. Glancing up, I watched as Eddie made a soft joke under his breath, evoking yet another peal of soft laughter from my brother. They talked quietly together for a few moments, heads almost together, before Eddie positioned his fingers on the stringers, showing Harrison his first chord of the day. 

Witnessing Eddie teach was like watching a fish out of water. I wholeheartedly felt that he didn’t deserve the hate that he received at school from our peers, but there was no denying he was....eccentric. I’d never known him in this capacity, nor had I ever known my brother to take to somebody so easily.

I watched them for a few moments, heavy chords permeating the room loudly, and realized a wide grin was spreading across my face. As if he could feel my stare, Eddie looked up over Harrison’s head and gave me a small twitch of his lips, nodding in my direction. 

I nodded back, the grin not leaving my face even as I turned my full attention back to my book. One thing was for sure, there was definitely more to Eddie Munson than what meets the eye. 

--

“You did a wicked job today, buddy,” I heard Eddie praise after the hour lesson was up, a ringed hand clasping Harrison’s shoulder as he started to put away his guitar. “Keep practicing what you learned today, and I’ll see you next Saturday.”

He paused a moment, brown eyes looking in my direction as I stood and started gathering my things as well. “What about you, Dixon?”

“Me?” I asked, raising a brow at his now smiling face. 

“Yeah you. See you next week?”

“She’ll be here every week,” Harrison piped up, a smile ghosting his lips. 

“Right on. I’ll see you around then.”

“Definitely. Thanks Eddie,” I responded, a light blush creeping up my neck and to my cheeks. “I’ll see you around.”

It wasn’t until we were halfway home that I realized that both Harrison and I were both in an incredible mood despite it being our usually busy Saturday morning. 

Chapter 2

[strangerthings4theories]

Billy Is Going To Find The Byers

IMPORTANT: If you haven’t read my post “The Demogorgon Is Billy’s Dark Reflection,” please check it out, as it goes hand in hand with this one. Thanks :D

A few months ago, we all got our first look at some of the new characters for S4. I checked them out with great interest. 

“Lt. Colonel Sullivan... military dude in Hawkins... cool, makes sense. Victor Creel... ooooooh, played by Robert Englund, betcha he’s gonna be one of El’s predecessors. Eddie Munson... damn, he’s super sus. Argyle... Jonathan’s new bff, who delivers pizza for--”

I stopped.

And freaked. OUT.

Argyle delivers pizza for Surfer Boy Pizza.

Surfer Boy Pizza.

SURFER BOY PIZZA.

A whole constellation of dots connected, and I knew IMMEDIATELY where this is heading. Let’s walk through it step by step... starting with the inception of Stranger Things itself.

The Duffers love the movie Jaws, to the point that they give it pride of place in their list of inspirations. Hell, Stranger Things probably wouldn’t have existed without it. Initially, as a homage to the movie, the show was set in a Long Island beach town called Montauk. The setting didn’t change until the Duffers began pre-production:

They began by scouting locations on the northern tip of Long Island, but the community - so integral to the script - didn’t look as they had imagined, and its distance from New York City made the idea of anchoring the production there unfeasible. A new approach was required. (Worlds Turned Upside Down, p 25)

After that, they rewrote the script to take place in Indiana, and “Hawkins was born.” 

Still, you can tell their love for Jaws lingered. Hopper’s truck looks like Martin Brody’s:

Meanwhile, the Demogorgon was inspired by the shark, and the show isn’t shy about that fact. In S1, when Nancy explains her theory for what the Demogorgon is, she likens its bloodlust to that of a shark:

In the final episode, when Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve are hiding from the Demogorgon in Will’s room, the Jaws poster hangs prominently in the left side of the frame:

Furthermore, the Demogorgon’s behavior emulates that of the shark. Like Nancy points out, it hunts alone, emerging from the Upside Down (*COUGHTHEOCEANCOUGH*) to pick people off one by one. And though we don’t see its full form until the end, its presence haunts us throughout, infusing the story with dread.

Okay! So the Duffers originally set Stranger Things in a beach town, and the Demogorgon was inspired by the Jaws shark. Cool. What does this mean for us?

Everything.

Think about it. The Byers have moved to a new town. We aren’t sure where they went, but in S2 Bob suggested Maine. Maine is on the East Coast, not far from Long Island.

And as you can see, it has hundreds of miles of beaches.

If the Duffers have any sense, they wouldn’t drop the Byers in another town like Hawkins. That would be redundant and hella boring. Instead, they would seize the opportunity to explore a new setting with a different feel. Not an inland town surrounded by woods and farmland, but... oh, idk... a beach town.

On top of that, the Byers’ move gives the Duffers the perfect opportunity to return to the show’s roots. Finally, they can bring Montauk to life.

If that’s what they’ve done, and the Byers have moved to a beach town, we’re headed for prime Billy territory.

Billy OWNS the beach. In the context of the show, we get our first glimpse of a beach in his mind, for God’s sake. And he’s deeply connected to water as an element. He’s a surfer, lifeguard, swim instructor... need I say more?

He’s also likened to the Demogorgon - the monster inspired by the shark in Jaws.

I’ve already discussed the similarities between Billy and the Demogorgon. Those were fresh on my mind when I read Runaway Max for the first time. So, when I read this paragraph where Max describes the Camaro, I freaked out (I do that a lot):

Once, for two weeks back in April, I thought that Camaro was the coolest thing I’d ever seen. It had a long, hungry body like a shark, all sleek painted panels and sharp angles. It was the kind of car you could rob a bank in. (pp 12-13)

It’s a motherf***ing equation, y’all. Billy (by way of his Camaro) = the Demogorgon = the shark in Jaws.

And the Byers have just moved to a town where the local pizza place is called Surfer Boy Pizza.

A name like that doesn’t make sense unless they really are in a beach town.

Hence why I completely lost my shit when I read about Argyle. When you take all the evidence together, it looks like the Duffers have set up a situation where, figuratively, our heroes will think they see a shark in the water (aka the Demogorgon). 

But they’ll find out it’s not a shark. It’s a surfer boy coming back to shore.

Hints and leaks have confirmed this idea so far. The Stranger Things social media accounts teased the following exchange last year:

“What if it’s the Demogorgon?” “It’s not the Demogorgon.”

Just a couple weeks ago, we got our first photo of the Surfer Boy Pizza delivery truck (credit: strangerinsidebr on IG). And the writing on the side is telling.

The writing in the center doesn’t say, “Surfer Boy Pizza delivered hot to your door.” It says, “Surfer Boy delivered hot to your door.” The ‘pizza’ is way off to the side.

They’re making a joke, guys. A fuckin joke.

“Surfer boy delivered HOT to your door ;)”

Jokes aside, the potential for Billy’s intro scene is so CLEAR and VIVID that I took a stab at sketching out how it could happen. Obviously I don’t think it has to happen this way; the writers have plenty of wiggle room. But it illustrates the kind of scene I have in mind:

Episode 3: “The Survivor”

All this time, hints have been building that Billy is still alive. Creepy things keep happening that remind us of Will trying to communicate from the Upside Down in S1 (flickering lights, people feeling "haunted" by his "ghost," etc). At the end of the episode, a thunderstorm rolls into the Byers' beach town. Will and El are together at home, probably alone. As it's raining and thundering, strange things begin to happen that frighten them. They get a creepy phone call; the power goes out, but only at their house; etc. Remembering that horrific night three years ago, Will races to the window to look out. El follows him. Through the rain, they see a form swaying toward the house. Terrified, Will wants to leave, but El stops him. "But El, what if it's the Demogorgon?" "It's not the Demogorgon." They back away from the door and wait. To their shock, the chain unlocks by itself. The door opens, and their visitor walks in, looking like a drowned cat with a nosebleed. Billy.

God, I’m freaking out again just writing all this out lololol. I need to go lie down. 

BILLY’S COMING BACK, BITCHES. 

Peace.  ✌️

»»————-　✼　————-««

The “Billy Is Alive” Meta Series (So Far)

Billy Is Not a ‘B’ Character In Stranger Things

The First Rule of Analyzing Stranger Things: The Upside Down Is Symbolized By Water

The Lifeguard And The Rip Current: Our First Big Hint That Billy Is Alive

Why Haven’t We Seen Dacre On Set?

The Demogorgon Is Billy’s Dark Reflection

Frequently Asked Questions

For updates, follow the hashtag #billy is alive meta

[willthecleric]

heey firstly i hope you're having a nice day :))

and secondly, i was thinking about that video of that fanmio with finn where he got asked if he shipped byler and (maybe you or someone has mentioned this before, and if so i'm sorry) i realised

the question was if he shipped byler and he went straight to saying "we'll have to see what the duffers write" like, that's not what they asked, right? like, they mentioned byler and his mind went straight to the "is it canon" topic, perhaps cause it's a bigger topic in s4, like maybe when they mentioned byler he was so focused on not slipping it was canon that he tried to leave that ambiguous when it wasn't really necessary cause that wasn't the question? like you know in Friends when they have to hide from ross's wife that rachel is with them and joey's first instinct is to say "idk who's here but it definitely isn't rachel" when he could've just not mentioned her and come out clean? that's the vibe im getting (chances are i'm overthinking)

like alright maybe he knew if he said he did ship it, then bylers would get maybe a little too hyped and relate it to it being canon, so he just said we'll have to see, but idk he could've been like "idk i haven't thought about it" or "it's nice, i've seen stuff on it before" y'know to keep it ambiguous, but instead he talked about it being or not being canon and never even mentioned how he felt about it, he mentioned people could ship whatever they wanted but never if he did or didn't, so nonetheless he sounds like he's trying to hide a piece of information somewhere

i know they probably have to be careful with their answers so nobody goes crazy over what they say, so maybe answering if he did or didn't ship it could cause a little chaos (not that mentioning whether it may or may not be canon wouldn't cause just as much), on the other hand, it's pretty much the viewer's responsibility to assume something over an actor's personal opinions? but i guess it is more of a sensitive topic if there's a possibility of it actually happening in the show (i know he didn't have much time to think about a perfect answer to the question since it was live (not with an audience but between the two) but that brings me back to how "canon" was the first thing that came to him)

i'm sorry it's 4am and i'm blabering a lot and craving for new byler evidence but i hope my point makes some sense, i could definitely be overthinking but it's just a thought :D

TLDR: when they asked finn if he shipped byler he went straight to talking about whether it's canon (aka not rlly what they asked), like canon is the first thing that crossed his mind

Hi, Anon! I did have a nice day. I hope you have one too. :)

I love discussing Finn and Noah in regards to Byler. I don't think you are overthinking this at all. There is definitely something to it. I do think Finn was taken off guard because no one generally asks him this question and he tried his best to to dodge it but did not really know the best way to do it. So he ended up talking about the Duffers writing what they write. But then realized that he shouldn't have really stated that, so he went to cover for it by saying that people can ship what they want. That was just my read of things and the way that he was acting within the video. I do think it being canon did cross his mind (like I think he probably does ship Byler - it just seems like the kind of pairing he would enjoy). And honestly, I think he is excited as well. I remember him saying before S3 came out that he is looking forward to where Mike is heading. And we can all guess as to what he was referring to there. I do feel for Finn because he is in a delicate position where he can't say much because on one hand there is Bylers and on the other hand there is Milevens. And of course he can get in trouble for saying too much.

And believe me, I get craving new Byler evidence. :D

[livedsomanylives]

On the theory of El having a twin sister

So, i was rewatching 'The lost sister' episode and this called my attention:

The word 'Glypho'.

Now, I'm Spanish, so this might have a completely different meaning i just don't know about, because phonetically speaking this word sounds exactly as it does in Spanish, glifo, but a quick Google search told me the right English form for it is Glyph, but! Just bear with me for a little longer, just in case.

So, what's a Glypho?

Etymologically, it comes from the Greek γλυφή, glyphē, "carving," and the verb γλύφειν, glýphein, "to hollow out, engrave, carve". A glyph is an engraved or, by extension, written or painted sign. In archaeology, a glyph is a carved or inscribed symbol. It may be a pictogram or ideogram, or part of a writing system such as a syllable, or a logogram.

For example, these are glyphs:

There are a bunch of different definitions all around the internet, but this is the one that fits better in here, even if I have to stretch it a little: a glyph is a graphic representation that conveys a meaning.

So, when I saw it, I paused and thought "what a strange word to have in there" and then "maybe they want us to look for something?" and then "okokok. maybe they're saying 'look for the glyph'?"

So I tried to look for the glyph:

But I honestly couldn't pinpoint anything revealing in the scene?. Sure, there's a huge neon sign just right there, (maybe a 'keep your eyes open now?') but it didn't tell anything to me, neither anything else surrounding El and Kali. But then, oh, then. Then I saw there was a tattoo on Kali's ear. But, it was kind of shadowed, in this scene, so I wasn't really able to make it out. And that's when, ofc, I ran to the internet and there's. where. I. saw. THIS.

WAIT WHAT?????

another 1111?

1111¿¿¿¿¿¿

OK WAIT. A. FUCKING. MINUTE.

The image took me to Eastenbricks's post on Reddit:

Then I found Eastenbricks's posts about the number 11 and its meaning in the ST universe. Particularly this one where they talk about the 11 Gateway and the Twin Flames and--

Wait

AnOtHEr

Minute

Did I just read the word twins?

As in there's a possibility there are two Elevens?

Because, you know, toy cars rarely go in the direction you want them to (rarely= never), and these two are perfectly following the rainbow lines. It's like they're being... telekinetically directed, or something.

With this in mind, let's come back to Kali's tattoo:

It's a fishbone.

An upside-down fishbone.

Cut by four perpendicular lines that, according to Eastenbricks's, would symbolize four numbers 1s.

Shaped as an arrow.

That point. To El. Constantly. Like a neon sign indeed, like 'Hey! Hey! Pssst. C'mon look over here. There are two of this girl'.

Now. What about a closer look at that graffiti?

Yep. There's a mamma in there. I know it's probably just a coincidence but. Listen.

Kali and El... they're not having just any conversation in here. It's already been settled that they recognize each other as sisters, and Kali's talking about how now she feels whole, now 'Like a piece of me was missing, and now it's not' and talks about how El's mom knew that they belong together.

But,

El didn't remember Kali. Only saw her in her mother's memories, same as she saw herself.

This can be perfectly explained by how little she was, ofc, but what if our El is not actually Kali's El?

What if it's her twin?

What if, while Jane's mom is showing her those images so she can find Kali, the narrative is telling us a different thing? Because El does find Kali, but doesn't stay with her, and we can interpret that as Kali not really being that 'lost sister' El is meant to find.

I know there are more than a few flaws to this crazy theory. Believe me, I know. Those kids over the rainbow do are old enough to remember they have a twin. And if El's mom gave birth to twins, she didn't seem to know. But science loves studies involving twins, and even more twins raised separately, so it's possible they had more than one set of twins at the lab, and also that they'd run different kinds of experiments with them.

It definitely looks like there's more than one rainbow room as this amazing @awhstrangerthings post points out. And, yk, the Duffers are twins.

And! I guess now's when you tell me there was an 80s famous drug called Glypho and this is just me being weird and that I saw too much X-files as a child (I did). But I'm gonna just leave this in here and, just in case, go bet five dollars with someone about it.

[jonny-byerss]

Why Jancy Is Endgame

So, recently, I’ve seen quite a bit of Jancy hate which I literally don’t understand, because how can you look at Jancy and think “Wow, I hate them”...like, it genuinely baffles me that people don’t ship Jancy, like how? They have SO MUCH CHEMISTRY it’s unreal. In all three seasons, it’s evident that there’s something more between them than just “monster hunting partners”. So, recently, I have been asking multiple people including my irl friends why they think Jancy is endgame and this is what I’ve come up with.

1.) The Duffers Aren’t Dumb

Even though quite a bit of people are disappointed with the way they’ve taken their writing, you have to admit one thing: they aren’t dumb. They’ve been setting Jancy up to be canon since S1, and fans have been rooting for them to get together since S1. It’s not until Steve’s turn-around that people started hating on Jancy.

Jancy is definitely more popular than Stancy for sure. To a majority of fans, even if Jancy isn’t their favorite Stranger Things ship, they still at least ship it. And, with the exception of hardcore Steve stans, most people who like Steve as a character admit that Jonathan and Nancy fit better together than Steve and Nancy ever did. We know the Duffers like to give in to what a majority of fans want, and Jancy seems to be what a majority of fans want.

There’s 3 core ships that the Duffers have been building up since S1. Those are Jopper, Jancy, and Mileven. It’s obvious in S1 that these ships are going to become canon eventually, and they’re also the three core ships of the show that people love. They also tend to focus on these three relationships quite a bit in their writing, with the majority of major relationship moments being with these three ships, especially Mileven. It’s obvious they want us to root for these ships.

The main point I’m trying to make is the Duffers have been setting Jancy up to be canon since S1. They have shown us many moments in all three seasons that show us just how much chemistry Jancy has. From the bed scene in S1, to the hallway scene in S2, they’re obviously trying to show us that Jancy is meant to get together.

Not only that, but Jancy was ACTUALLY supposed to be canon in S1. I don’t know how many people know this, but Steve was supposed to die in S1, and Jancy was supposed to get together. The writers liked Joe Keery so they decided they needed to find a way to keep him on the show. It’s clear to me that the writers themselves are rooting for Jancy, which means that they want us to root for Jancy too.

I’m not here to say how the Duffers should write the next seasons, and I myself don’t know what happens in the future seasons, but I do see the clues that the Duffers have given us since S1 and I also believe that the Duffers know what they’re doing. They know what the majority of fans want and it’s clear to me that they want us to root for Jancy, so obviously they’re gonna keep them together.

2.) THAT Ending Scene In S3

A lot of people that say “Jancy has no chemistry” clearly have not seen their last scene in S3. To me, that scene is a promise. A promise to each other and to us that Jancy is in it for each other.

In this scene, you can see that they are so painfully in love. They don’t want to leave each other. You can tell it breaks both of their hearts that they have to separate for a bit.

I could do a whole analysis of this scene, and I just might do that later, but to me, what they’re saying to each other is “We’ve been through so much together, why can’t we go through a little more?”

Sure, long-distance would be harder in the 80s, but I do believe that their love is strong enough to last. They clearly both love each other very much. And there’s always phone calls and letters and visiting each other on breaks.

When thinking of the LDRs that the Byers move caused, lots of people think of Mileven, but Jancy is actually way more likely to be endgame than Mileven at this point. We don’t know what happens in future seasons or if the Byers eventually move back, but we do know that Jonathan and Nancy are seniors in high school and almost 18. Mike and Eleven are barely starting high school and have more time to be apart than Jancy does. Once Jancy graduates, they can do whatever they want. Sure, one could say that Jonathan might feel an obligation to stay with his family, but we also know that he has an ambition for NYU. We have no idea what Nancy wants. I can honestly see her go to college for journalism or something similar. What’s to stop her from going to NYU or somewhere in NY with Jonathan?

We don’t know what the Duffers have in store for Jancy’s future, but I trust that they can give Jancy the perfect ending they deserve. That scene in S3 has so much underlying meaning to it, like the fact that the song that play in the background during it is called “You’re a Fighter”. I have a whole different thing planned on analyzing that scene, and I’ll post that later, but basically, with that scene, to me, the Duffers are trying to say “They’re in this for each other. They’re so in love that they’re going to make it work”

3) They are the most mature relationship on the show

I’ve seen quite a few people say that the argument they had in S3 is “proof they are incompatible” but that is simply not true. In fact, if anything, it shows how they are exactly the opposite. Here’s why.

So, every couple fights. It’s the ability to work through a fight and come out stronger and more understanding that shows just how committed a couple is to each other. Jonathan and Nancy are a prime example of this.

Jonathan and Nancy come from different backgrounds. This argument of “I’m poor” and “People are being sexist towards me” is a very adult argument. I mean, most teenage couples you see have fights about jealousy-type crap. Jancy’s fight is a fight that adults would have. That’s why I believe they are a very mature couple.

Not only that, but the key thing to remember is that they both admitted that they felt bad for what they said and apologized, reaffirming their commitment to each other. This is a fight that they can grow from as a result. Because they apologized and acknowledged their wrong-doings, they have a better foundation for understanding each other in the future and they can grow as a couple. This can also give them a perspective on life that maybe they didn’t think about before.

Honestly, Jancy has been through a lot crap together so they kind of have to be mature. Plus, Jonathan himself had to grow up faster than most children, which gives him a perspective on life that he most likely passed on to Nancy.

This is why I believe Jancy is the most mature couple. Instead of letting their fight get the best of them, they acknowledged their wrong-doings and became more understanding of each other as a result. It takes real maturity to do something like that.

The reason I compare them to the other couples is because, look at Mileven’s fight in S3. It seems sort of childish compared to Jancy’s. And Lumax has broken up 5 times apparently. And Jopper, gosh, they have a lot of issues to work out. Jancy seems to have effectively worked out their differences and become stronger as a result.

Charlie Heaton (Jonathan) himself said that when he first read the S3 script, he thought that Jancy seemed like a married couple, which I think says a lot about their relationship. They are so mature and comfortable with each other like that. He also said this, which basically sums up what I said, here:

4) They are more than just “shared trauma”

I’ve seen a lot of people criticize Jancy by saying stuff like “Shared trauma isn’t a good foundation for a relationship”, but I’m about to prove why that’s bullcrap, because Jancy is more than their shared trauma.

So, shared trauma seems to be what the writers like to point out about their relationship. In the ending scene in S3, Jonathan tells Nancy “We’ve got shared trauma”. He is referring to what Murray said to them in S2 when he was telling them why they should get together. Just because “shared trauma” is what Murray emphasized, doesn’t mean it’s their only foundation.

I’d quickly like to point out though, that shared trauma is actually a real life relationship trope and there are real-life couples founded on this. But, I’d also like to point out that Jancy’s trauma isn’t just any trauma. They didn’t just fight in Vietnam together or something, like it’s not every day your loved one gets kidnapped by an otherworldly demon.

I think the main emphasis that the show is focusing on when they say “shared trauma” is the scars. I mean, when Jonathan said that line in S3, he was touching Nancy’s scar that he shares with her. They are the only two people with those matching scars. Those scars are something that unites them and reminds them of the past they share.

Their “trauma” isn’t just how they met either. I mean, they obviously knew each other before the events of S1. Their brothers are best friends. I’m not saying they were friends or anything, but they were definitely acquaintances.

Their trauma is how they grew closer. I mean, before their first traumatic experience, they seemed to be getting on each other’s nerves a bit. It’s not until Nancy almost became Demogorgon lunch that they started realizing they could trust each other. After that, they realized they worked well together and they may or may not have fallen in love.

Also, let’s not forget all the flirting they did before their traumatic experience. The darkroom, even the target practice scene.

I think the key thing to remember with their trauma though is that, because they both went through similar experiences, they understand each other in that way. I mean, part of Stancy breaking up was because Steve didn’t realize the trauma she was going through and didn’t understand fully how to help her. Jonathan understood in a way what she was feeling because he went through something similar.

And yeah, shared trauma might not be a good foundation, because obviously there’s other things to consider in a relationship, but if there’s anything S3 showed us it’s that Jancy knows how to communicate and work through their problems, so clearly that’s not an issue for them.

5) The love triangle is done

I’ve seen some online articles that say things like “Now that Jonathan is gone, Nancy will go back with Steve”. I’ve even heard people say “Nancy will go with Robin”. Both of those are bullcrap.

First of all, Stancy’s arc is finished. S2 showed us how incompatible they were by showing how Steve hasn’t been a good support system for Nancy and showing that Nancy no longer loved Steve. Nancy obviously felt something more for Jonathan, who could support her in a better way than Steve could, because Jonathan had similar experiences. After they broke up, they were done. And when Jonathan and Nancy kissed the love triangle was over. It was solved.

I think most of the fans can agree that they are glad the love triangle was solved, that way Nancy’s story can be about more than just boys. It would be stupid for the Duffers to bring it back and it would ruin every ounce of character development that Steve and Nancy have gone through. And I am confident that the Duffers aren’t stupid.

Part of Steve’s S2 arc is getting over Nancy and accepting that she no longer loves him and even finding a friend in Dustin. Part of Nancy’s arc in S2 was realizing she should embrace that girl she was for a week in November 1983. She gets justice for Barb and even embraces her feelings for the school outcast. Nancy and Steve can still be friends, and even Jonathan and Steve, but that’s it. Nothing more. It’s been decided that Nancy doesn’t love Steve, she loves Jonathan. Even if Jonathan is far away, it’s possible to love him from a distance.

And about Robin and Nancy, it’s also highly unlikely. Again, I think most fans are tired of Nancy’s love life and love triangle and are glad it’s over. Adding Robin to the mix would make it even more complicated.

First of all, it’s not canon that Nancy is bisexual. The only canon LGBT character is Robin. It is implied that Will may be as well, but nothing has been confirmed.

I can see Robin and Nancy being good friends, but Robin did call her a priss in S3 and also, it’s like an unspoken rule in best-friendship that you don’t date their exes. Robin and Steve are best friends. This would break that rule.

I do know, based on leaked photos, Nancy and Robin most likely work together (maybe even with Steve) in S4. I believe, however, that the relationship is fully platonic. It would be nice for Nancy to have a friend that’s a girl after her loss of Barb, and Robin is a good person and would be a great friend for Nancy. I also believe, however, that Nancy is 100% dedicated to Jonathan (based on the last scene in S3) and will only be working with Robin (and maybe Steve) because they know something that would be useful.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is: Nancy’s love life arc has ended. It’s been decided that Nancy doesn’t love Steve and he can’t give her what she wants. And I think most Ronance shippers are just trolls, tbh. No one seems really serious about any Nancy and Robin relationship that’s anything more than platonic.

———————

And I think that about sums up why I believe Jancy is endgame. Jonathan and Nancy clearly love and care for each other very much as shown in all three seasons. Plus, there’s the fact that THEIR ACTORS ARE LITERALLY DATING IN REAL LIFE! (Seriously both Jancy and Natarlie are relationship goals).

I am extremely confident that even if Jancy does break up at some point, it won’t be for long and they’ll somehow find their way back to each other because they are soulmates. That is a guarantee. I have full confidence that the Duffers can give their relationship the perfect ending they deserve. I’d like to hear your guys’ feedback (please try to keep negativity away). Do you believe Jancy is endgame?

And here’s proof that Jancy loves each other:

[ohjaimelannister]

Do you think Hoppers actually dead though?

O K A Y.

I’ve been looking for an excuse to pull all of this together so here we go! NO Anon, I do not think that Chief James Hopper has gone and died on us. There’s no REAL evidence (there are easter eggs though) however and the Duffer Brothers could still pull the rug out from under us but hey.

No I do not believe that Hopper is dead. Although some things can be interpreted as pretty final and if the Duffers really kill him off I will never watch this show again, because it’s horrifically SHITTY writing and im already super tired of that this year lmao.

One - There is no body? We were never showed a body or what’s left of one? We have seen bodies for Benny, Barb, Bob and Billy (and even people who were in it for like 5 minutes). THEY EVEN PRODUCED A FAKE WILL WHEN THEY WANTED US TO THINK HE WAS DEAD. THEY AREN’T AGAINST SHOWING US BODIES!!! Which brings me to my next point!

Two - They also aren’t against to showing us death. Lots of gory detailing death, WHOEVER it is. Billy died horrifically but you saw it even though hes a kid. Bob got ripped to shreds.  And even those dudes at the beginning of S3 died horribly? They still showed it. Hopper’s death??? It cuts away. You see NOTHING. AT. ALL. There aren’t even any remnants OF a body where he was standing, and Joyce goes down there and LOOKS. Surely shed find something? Gooey grossness like the bodies at the beginning? Nope. You could argue that they’d be against showing us the death of a beloved hero and a main character but. Again. Bob was beloved and arguably one of the sweetest characters in the show and he was ripped to bits in front of us and Joyce. Billy was a kid for all intents and purposes, still he died a horrible death. Not one bit of that was cut away.

Three - If you look in the shots hes not on the platform when the thing explodes????? like at all? Either that’s badly shot or its done deliberately because he’s just not there anymore? There’s the portal to the Upside Down and you can see a ladder in the shot too, so maybe he either went into the Upside Down or down the ladder and got caught by the russians?? We just don’t know.

Four - We see the devastated Eleven and the aftermath of what happened at Star Court. Then it jumps to three months later? Okay, odd that were not shown anymore of the grieving or the funeral. Then of course Eleven read the SPEECH. Think about the end of it specifically and about LEAVING THE DOOR OPEN 3 INCHES!! You can see from one of the final shots of Star Court that the gates not CLOSED. It was healing but it never fully closes. So Hopper could be in the Upside Down, or travelled through it to Russia on the other end?? Who knows. Point is, they included this line at the end for a reason. Whether the reason is that hes actually dead and they’re just being profound or that its a hint about his fate, its meaningful.

Five - During the ending the song HEROES by Peter Gabriel plays, this is the same song that was placed over them finding Wills fake body, and after all the goodbyes and the ‘speech’ where it ends with “keep the door open three inches” well. Come on.

Six - Then it cuts to Russia and you hear the “not the american” line, and Hopper was called “the American” throughout the series by that Russian baddie. Should I start waving Red Flags here or???? Then again, a lot of people are saying this could be Brenner. Okay I 100% get your logic Im with ya, and for a few days I’ve also thought it could be Brenner. But here’s the thing. Elevens powers. Brenner makes her use them to spy on a russian man in Season 1. Hinting that there’s more going on here than just super powers, kids and other dimensions. Don’t forget that in the 80s the world was in the grip of the Cold War, and things would have started reaching a boiling point for this long before 1985 when it ‘officially’ began. We were never given any answers about why Brenner was spying on this man, or even Russia. Or even if he WAS spying for the US. Nothing, it’s a throwaway scene. Or IS IT? Russians show up in Season Three somehow knowing about the Upside Down, having failed at their own attempts to open a gate in Russia. They somehow know that its Hawkins they need to be in to successfully open their gate and potentially get monsters to use, oh I don’t know, in a WAR???? How would they have known any of this information to begin with?? Oh I wonder. We were told all about Brenner being alive and out there in season two (and we were never told WHERE and this is not referenced again), but as far as I can remember Eleven has never shared this with anyone else, even though it’s completely RELEVANT information. And as far as I can remember (its been a hell of an emotional few days) I dont think were given any explanation about how the Russians knew about the Upside Down, Hawkins or anything. So maybe the reason they knew is BECAUSE BRENNER is the one giving them their directives? Because hes worked for THEM this whole time???

Seven -  Interestingly also Eleven lost her powers? JEEZ ISN’T THAT CONVENIENT!!! Because the first thing shed use them for is to look for Hopper even if she was told he was dead. Shed look, 100% for the man who saved her, gave her a home, loved her, worried for her, cared for her like she was his goddamn OWN. Conveniently though now SHE CANT??? Interesting.

Eight -  And now. There’s the voicemail message. In one of the episodes (my brains so fried I cant remember which one sorry) Murrays gives out his landline number, and when you call it you can hear him give a message to Joyce. You can listen to it here.  You can tell this is after season three, because why would he talk to Joyce Byers? Surely if he was trying to reach someone for information it would be Hopper?  “I have an update, its best if we speak in person" an update??? About what??? Why is he coercing with joyce???  Notice how he says “it’s not good or bad but its SOMETHING” and then says “we’ll talk about it in person” (or something like that) why would he be calling joyce with an ‘update’?????????? AND ON WHAT EXACTLY?? INTERESTING!!

Nine - Theres this interview with the cast specifically ABOUT Hopper, the death and the post credits scene. And I love David Harbour but, you cannot lie for shit my angel.

Ten - Millie has said in an interview “ Her dads gone, or so she thinks” COME ON.

Eleven - Again WE KNOW DAVID HARBOUR IS LIKE THE MARK RUFFALO OF STRANGER THINGS. And hes bad at keeping shit to himself. Hes already told us at the end of last YEAR, literally a month after they finished filming season three that the Duffers have told him the ending to the series as a whole. Why would any creator do this for a man they have effectively just fired, because his character died? Why would they tell him? They wouldn’t.

Tweleve - Again. David Harbour, bless his heart, I think its trying to give us HINTS and bread crumbs to follow. Last week he changed his instagram photo from Hopper in S1 to the number 6. Odd. Today he changed it to the number one :

Twelve continued - Basically if he changed it to an 8 next, we know hes trying to hint at Murrays voicemail message and this is a clue for Hopper. Because why else would he bother?

Thirteen - Theres also this screenshot from Cara Buonos instagram where she literally SAYS about him being in Kamchatka, and uses the Russian word for PRISON. (Of course this could just be a joke between the actors

Fourteen - Theres also the fact, which is not evidence mind you, that its incredibly shitty writing to have both the men that Joyce Byers loved/loves to die in front of her? And actually having her put the action in motion that kills the man she loves? No. I wont accept that. And weve been shown her non willingness to believe in peoples death, everyone and their mothers told her Will was dead and she was being crazy. Did she listen? No. And she got her boy back. Will she think once she has a clear head that Hoppers dead? Maybe. Which is why she asks Murray to investigate. Hence the Voicemail Message.

Fifteen - Its also incredibly shitty and hard to swallow, for Elevens sake too. I mentioned already how much she loves Hopper and finally got a true parent in him. Do you honestly think they’d put her through all of that just to lose him NOW? Like i said, its convienent how shes lost her powers at this very crucial moment.

Sixteen - DAVID. HARBOURS. BEARD. RIGHT. NOW.

And SEVENTEEN -Just in case y’all are having trouble with any of that it looks like David Harbour has let sorta slip (my god I fucking ADORE THIS MAN LET ME TELL YOU). I dont know how reliable this is mind you because its not coming from a BIG source, but HERE he hints at knowing who the American is, after telling everyone else (see the interview above ^^) that he doesnt know and he cant say anything. 

‘During an interview with David Harbour, I attempted to delicately get around the fate of Jim Hopper. Harbour, however, came right out and gave it to me straight. “This is the question I’m going to have to dance around–” I began, only for Harbour to interrupt me and ask, “The ending?” “Right,” I said. “Is there a way you can talk about the future of Hopper without…” I trailed off here, only for Harbour to ask: “Well, did you see the post-credits scene?”I had, of course. And so I straight-up asked: is that Hopper behind the door? According to Harbour, that’s the most likely scenario. Throughout the season, the main Russian baddie refers to Hopper as “the American”, and having another Russian refer to the mysterious prisoner in the same way was the big giveaway.Of course, knowing that Hopper is alive, and knowing how he survived and ended up in Russia, are two different things. We’ll have to wait for season 4 to get that answer. And we’ll have to wait to see how things unfold from there. Will a big chunk of season 4 involve Hopper escaping that Russian base, and trying to get back to America? Time will tell. One thing is clear: Hopper still has a long journey ahead of him; not just physically, but emotionally.’

SO, basically Jim Hopper has not left us, Joyce or Eleven.  And if the Duffer Brothers have done all this to screw with us, well. Im not gonna be responsible for what I do.

I FEEL JIM HOPPER IN THIS RUSSIAN PRISON TONIGHT!!!

THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!!!!!!!!

[kaypeace21]

why is there so much denial of Will being gay?? Like, nothing Will has done has shown him to be anytging but possibly gay. Like, nobody thinks he'z gay because he's a nerd that doesn't have a girlfriend!! We think he's gay because of all the fucking subtext!!!!

There are a few reasons for this, and they’re all (for the most part) rooted in homophobia. 1) There are those who (may or may not) notice the subtext, but ignore it with the excuse of “he’s too young; stop sexualizing him!”. All while shipping lumax, and mileven. Whether they want to admit it or not, this is homophobic! They view (subconscious or otherwise) being queer as inherently sexual, dirty, and adult. And that only straight relationships can be pure and innocent and based on compatible personalities. Straight kids can have innocent crushes (but in their eyes) queer kids can’t- they may not even exist, to them. 

 2) There are some mileven shippers (who whether they want to admit it) hate Will, because the possibility he has powers or is gay- threatens their precious het ship. Because a lot of them don’t see El as her own person (just a part of their ship) or a vessel for being a badass with powers. They don’t appreciate her for the nuanced character she is.  They either get angry at the idea of Will being gay or having powers, or are only happy with him being queer if he’s sad and in an unrequited one-sided love/ or is single forever. Or they’ll say “why don’t you just ship him with someone else… like Dustin?” Ignoring the fact Dustin hasn’t been queer coded like Mike (or had romantically coded scenes with Will), or that people ship byler for Will and Mike, not cause it’s simply m/m. I mean, can you imagine byler shippers saying ‘Just ship El with Dustin, it’s a guy and girl… it’s practically the same thing”? No, of course not! It shows their bias- and how they feel privileged and entitled to their straight ship even though there are millions of similar ships in media to choose from- unlike queer ships which are far and few in between. However, we’re supposed to be the ones who pick another option- and are told our ships are ‘all the same’. Whether they are aware of this bias, they consider queer ships a joke, and all the same.

3) Those who relate to Will and his struggles,  hate the idea of relating to a queer character. There is a reason why shows like ‘Will &Grace’ in the 90s were popular, but even today the second a character who people assumed was straight is revealed as lgbt+ viewers get angry! It’s because they feel ‘tricked’ into liking, relating and empathizing with a character that they would otherwise have immediately put in a ‘box’ and  distanced themselves from . Whether they are aware of it or not, they would immediately attribute stereotypes to them and never try to empathize with them, because ‘they’re gay, and ‘how can I relate to that’? They don’t want to relate to them (because subconscious or otherwise) they think being gay is bad or just too foreign.They don’t see queer people as full-fledged people. They’re just gay- nothing more.

Which is why when they angrily say “he’s just afraid to grow up, HE’S NOT GAY!”  They are essentially saying a gay, abused kid, who has ptsd, and was violated by the MF (and was also hinted m**ested by Lonnie too) can’t be afraid to grow up, since he lost his childhood. Only straight people have these type of human-fears and characterizations!

Forget the fact, that Will also wouldn’t want to grow up- because than he’d have to acknowledge his sexuality (at a time where all you heard about gay men was they were evil , mentally ill, going to hell and dying of aids as a punishment by god). Not to mention Will’s ptsd and the fact he lost 2 years of his childhood on top of that.He even says “I’m not … going to fall in love” (not convincingly) , right after the movie date with Mike.

4) They’re so used to straight media, and everyone being presumed straight and having media catered to them (the straight audience)- That they’ll ignore or miss every hint there is a queer character. 

So what are the hints of Will being gay (or at least- some other lgbt identity.

Called many homophobic slurs  since s1 ( specifically ”queer, fag, fairy, and gay”) by his dad and bullies. Jonathan in s1 tells Will to “not like things just because people tell you you’re supposed to, especially not him” ( ‘him’ referring to their dad). Is positioned behind a rainbow apple poster in the av room (ref. to Alan Turning the gay creator of computers), dances with a girl with a rainbow hair-clip, has rainbow bandaids, has his mom says she’s ”so proud” (lgbt+ pride ref) of the rainbow ship he drew . When Will disparages himself as a “freak”, Jonathan asks Will, who would you rather be friends with-  David Bowie (who was openly bi since the 70s) or Kenny Rogers? Will says Bowie, and Jonathan agrees saying “see, it’s no contest”. In the pitch to netflix the Duffers described Will as having “sexual identity issues”. In the leaked s2 snowball script it says “he’s not looking at the cute girl- but Mike.”

All of s2 directly paralleled ‘romantic s1 mileven scenes’ to ‘supposedly platonic byler scenes’. No joke, they had identical scenes, with almost identical framing and dialogue, but it’s all dismissed as friendship (even though the scenes are identical).Byler was also  paralleled to Jancy, Stancy, Jopper, bob/joyce and others. . You can headcannon Will as whatever you want, but like it or not- Will is queer and m/m! We could debate his exact queer sexual identity , but Will was never written and will never be written to be ‘straight’! Stay mad!

If Will was Wilma, the majority of the fandom would be byler shippers. Think about it! Mike having byler scenes that are identical to s1 mileven scenes, and then additional unique byler scenes. Mike staying by Wilma’s side 24 hours a day for several days (not even changing clothes), carrying her out of the hospital, grabbing her hand (with a zoom in shot),constantly asking her if she’s okay at least 5-7 times, putting his arm around her twice, being the only one who could tell something was off with her (and it wasn’t her normal type of quiet). Calling and running all the way to her house and banging on the door to check on her, desperate. Proclaiming “i’m the only one who cares about Wilma!” Watching her sleep cause he’s so worried, that shed scene reminiscing about how they first met in perfect detail, saying “I asked, I asked if you wanted to be my friend. You said yes, you said yes. It was the best thing I’ve ever done. (like a marriage proposal)”  The “crazy together” scene. Them being close since they were 5 vs the girl he knew for a week (but is somehow in love with?). If the witness said about El in s1 , “ same height… it could be the Byers girl”, instead of ‘boy’ (pointing out the resemblance). Mike getting into fights and getting upset (almost crying) about the bullies insulting Wilma. Mike having a whole binder of her drawings and caressing one of the drawings, after he thinks she died.  Being the only one of her friends to stay awake at the hospital, waiting for her to wake up- so he can see her and hug her first. Almost everyone would be team byler if Will was a girl- they probably would of started shipping it the second Wilma stared at him and was the only one who didn’t lie to him, in the first ep! Another parallel to El! 

And again think about s3 if Will was a girl.They paralleled the (comedic) mileven breakup vs (the sad/serious) byler breakup. Then Mike just complained and burped on the couch vs apologizing to Willma multiple times/even going into a storm to apologize a 2nd time (and to ‘talk’). Willma having a breakdown over the fight vs El laughing and high five-ing Max after.The shed vs the pool shed scene- “best thing I’ve ever done” vs “you’re the most important thing in the world to me”, “blank makes you crazy’ (as El stares confused) vs “crazy together’ (where Wilma says ‘yeah, crazy together). Mike going on ‘movie dates with Willma all the time’ right after making out with El. The last mileven kiss where Mike has his eyes open the whole time, doesn’t kiss back, and says he doesn’t remember saying “I love her” to El (and doesn’t say ‘I love you’ back). Right after having a talk with Wilma about playing games when she comes back (the crux of their fight). Mike getting excited that he’ll be able to visit El and Wilma on Thanksgiving and them visiting him on Christmas (those are holidays where family usually introduces their S.O.) Having the last scene of Mike,  be him looking back at Wilma’s house, and have that whole monologue in that scene be about “feelings changing”, and then he goes to hug his mom like the s1 byler scene where he thought Wilma was dead. And that’s not even all the scenes- and every time byler won by a landslide. If Will was a girl, it would be obvious writing on the wall, that Mike would eventually choose Wilma over El by the end of the series.

But since they are 2 boys, we’re delusional, because queer kids don’t exist … apparently.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Should I Stay or Should I Go? (The Eighties Blasts Collection, Part 11.)

Description: Jim Hopper died as a hero. But with that, one certain problem rises up - who will now lead the cops of Hawkins? Hopper thought of that - he decided to write a letter, naming his niece, nineteen-year-old student of Indianapolis police academy, Y/N Hopper as a sheriff deputy in a letter. But anybody in the town doesn’t have a clue that being a cop in Hawkins is way more dangerous than it might seem.

Part Summary: Hopper Jr. is now going through a slight life crisis - she is hunted down by a Shapeshifter, he cabin is out of use and to plan something with the dinguses around is basically impossible.

A/N: I just wanted to have a few minutes to catch a breath and to let Hopper have a bit of fun with the boys. Chapter inspired by You're a Fighter along with Boys and Girls from the Stranger Things 3 original score by Kyle Dixon and Michael Stein.

Word Count: 5.6 K

Tagging: @charmed-asylum​ @nemodoren​

Master list: The Eighties Blast Collection

The following morning was stressful and crazy, to say the least. Steve might have a day off from the video shop, but he still had to pretend that you're not in his room and that everything is just right and as it's supposed to be. He almost accidentally told his mom a few times. That was like walking on thin ice. He let you borrow some more of his clothes, making a promise that he'll stop in your cabin with you to take some of your clothes. 

He unlocked the door to his bedroom once his parents left the house - you were just sitting on his bed in his sweats and an old t-shirt, reading through one of his magazines. You already sneaked through the whole room, looked at the photos of him and the kids, your personal favorites were the ones with Dustin, one with Robin where they were... Extremely close, you looked at his books that were just covered up in dust and his collection of movies. You even found a small photo album, clearly as old as the time, hidden under his pillow.

There were mainly photos of small boy Steve where he was just incredibly cute - messy hair, always dirty from the mud that was outside, in his baseball outfit. Then there was little Stevie walking his bike... And a picture of him and Nancy hugging, which wasn't that old. Were they... Dating before? But on the same page, there was a picture of you, hugging Steve with a big, toothless smile - that was the fourth of July and you were making yourself apples in caramel. You could remember that he was much taller than you when you were both just kids. His mom took you both there since Hopper had to stay at the station until eleven in night. 

That night, the thing at Barb's treehouse happened. That memory made you chuckle as well.

But when Steve opened up the door, you were just casually laid down on the bed you've tidied up and you slowly turned your head to look at Harrington. 

“Well, the house is empty, come out and do as you please. Brush your teeth, have a shower, have some breakfast, just like if you were at your place.” - Steve invited you into the house with a warm smile. When you walked into the hall, you were surprised. The inside of the house hasn't changed a bit since you were little. There was still a ton of photos of small Steve - there was still even the one where you, Nance, Johnathan and Steve were trick or treating for the first time ever. It was so embarrassing that it actually made you chuckle a bit.

"Eggs, bagels, Eggos?" - Steve yelled at you from the kitchen, making you jump a bit as you freaked out. - "Triple-Decker Eggos Extravaganza?" - You snorted and reminded Steve of the tower of unhealthy sweets put into one mash-up. Hopper never bought you a cake for your birthday - but he always made a tower of Eggo waffles, whipped cream, jelly beans bought on the gas station, Hershey's kisses and Reese's pieces. You loved it. And usually, you invited friends and he made Extravaganza for each of them to celebrate your big day.

"I don't think I can cook you such a masterpiece." - Steve said with a chuckle, leaning into the fridge to look what's in store.

"I had exactly this suspicion since you told me that you'll cook me something. Who's a chief who doesn't know how to cook a good Extravaganza?" - You said jokingly, pouring yourself a glass of milk. - "Eggs and some bagel will do, then."

"Right. Hop into the shower, do you want some fresh clothes?" - Steve asked and leaned into the fridge to get some eggs. You shook your head, leaving him all alone in the kitchen. You could remember that Steve was less than a bad cook back in your day - you just hoped that he finally learned how to cook. When you got out of the shower, the house smelled... Nice. It didn't smell like the whole house is on fire.

And when you got down to the table, you were rather pleasantly surprised - Steve was already eating and watching the news. There was a second plate which was surely for you. Mashed eggs were formed into a smiling face along with a few strips of bacon, two fresh bagels were leaned into the plate and a cup of fresh coffee was served along with your glass of milk.

"I didn't know how you like your coffee, so it's basically just colored water." - Steve smiled at you. He was clothed as well - having a pair of jeans and a polo shirt. He was looking like a million bucks and you, sitting there with your hair not combed, dressed in a t-shirt that was saying Go-Hawkins-Go!, clearly supporting local baseball team, and your jeans muddy from the yesterday's incidents, looked like a horrendous monster, to say the least.

"This is too nice of you. Thank you so, so much." - You smiled and Steve just smiled back before turning back to the TV once again.

"They already informed about Mrs. Duffer. They said that there's a killer set loose and it awaits their next victim. Poor people." - Steve said a bit ironically, looking right into his plate. You nodded and furrowed. - "We'll catch up with Dustin and Mike today. Lucas and Max went on a trip, Nance is at university and Robin is on her shift. I already told Dustin via radio, he said he'll tell Mike. But first, before we start to plan an ambush, we need to see the people who went missing in the last... Month."

"An ambush? You're calling it an ambush?" - You asked unbelievably whole you shoved some eggs down your throat. You were almost grinning. You were hunting down a Shapeshifter. And they were calling the whole plan an ambush? They were such children.

"We obviously need to lay out a trap, because I and other dinguses can't beat it on our own." - Steve said and you started to laugh since it was getting more and more ridiculous.

"Sure, Harrington, sure." - You stopped after a while and took a sip of your milk. - "I think that I'm afraid for my whole life, but I'm trying to hide all of under the surface and then I look mentally ill."

"Hopper was more and more aggressive and ironic - the closer the Demogorgon got close, the rougher he was. Or, that's what I always thought. Everyone has their tactics to stand against dangers and threats. Or Demogorgons for that matter." - The boy on the opposite side of the table said and then, he got up to wash the plate. Hopper. The typical American tough guy who tried to act the toughest he could.

In reality, you hadn't met anyone more loveable who would've had a bigger heart than he had. He was the typical family guy - man dressed up in denim jeans, flannel shirt with a beard. The man from your local family ad. But yeah, you knew that he could be short with his temper, like when he was helping you to build your first kite (he broke it four times) or when someone was laughing at you just because you didn't have such nice dresses and played baseball in your fifth grade. Or when you had your first argument over boys when you got to puberty. Yeah, he was short with his temper, but he calmed down rather quickly and tried to win you over with ice cream and chocolate.

But to see him stand up against a monster? You knew for sure that you didn't have a chance to get to know this Hopper. But you somehow got the feeling that you'll be the same person when it comes to action.

You left the Harrington residence before it was nine o'clock - Steve insisted on taking you in his car since it was newer, fresher and not so far. He also was making sure that you won't leave him standing somewhere in the city. First, you drove to your cabin to pack some clothes, including a few t-shirts, jeans, sweats and a lot of sweatshirts and underwear.

You and Steve still had to think through how will he tell his mom why woman underwear can be found in his dirty clothes, but he just said that you shouldn't be worrying about that since you had bigger problems. Thank God, Shapeshifter couldn't be seen - it wasn't watching you, it wasn't hiding in the cabin, you were alone and safe.

Then, Steve drove you to the police station and parked on the small parking lot. He bought himself a cup of coffee from Dunkin' Donuts and listened to the songs on the radio, watching the surroundings.

You were in a completely different position - you walked inside the station, but you were visibly nervous. To cover the bruise on your forearm, you put on a long-sleeved turtleneck, covering it in Steve's Go-Hawkins-Go! t-shirt. Flo almost instantly noticed that you're pale and trembling the hell out.

"You look awful, darling. What are you doing here?" - She stood up and smoothed your face lightly. You smiled at her, pouring yourself a glass of water.

"I'm... I'm good. I need to speak with Stanford and to... Search through some cases." - You looked at her and then sat on the opposite side of the table, looking at her in the eyes. - "I think I found out something that links all the missing persons."

"So you want to copy the folds?" - Flo rose her eyebrows and you completely stiffed for a few seconds, thinking about everything. - "You're so much alike, darling. Hopper was just like you when he was younger - copying folds and cases, photos and notes, sitting at home in the evening and thinking about it. He fell in love with his job since the day he started here. I won't tell Stanford if you promise me that you won't show anyone else."

"I promise I won't, Flo. Please, bring me copies of the missing person from last month and Mrs. Duffer's case. I will talk to Stanford in the meantime." - You smiled at the old lady, exhaling out loud. You were lucky that Flo knew both you and Hopper. She was there when Jim started his job as a normal police officer until the moment he became the chief. And she was there even when you started there as well.

Then, when Flo disappeared in the back for the files, you knocked on your boss's door. Before you disappeared inside, Anderson gave you a begging look. You knew what was going on - he sent you to the site, he gave you the case, he was the cop responsible for what happened to you.

But you rose your fingers holding the glass and gave him a slight smile along with a small nod - he could be sure that he's safe. You didn't plan to tell Stanford that he sent you there.

"Good morning, chief." - You stuck your head inside when Stanford invited you. One look at you and immediately, Stanford could say that you're sick.

"Good morning Miss Hopper. I will immediately say that you're here to take a few days off?" - Stanford stood up and moved a chair so you could sit on it. - "I mean it, Hop. You look awful."

"Oh, yeah, that's why I'm here, definitely." - You said almost immediately in response, nodded and took another sip from the glass. - "I think I caught some cold, I almost didn't get up from bed, my muscles hurt... I need to visit the doctor's."

"You don't look good at all, Hopper. Take a week or two off. You were doing so well, it's alright to occasionally take a few days off. You're a good cop." - Stanford stood up and leaned his ass into his desk, watching you. You slowly nodded, giving him a slight smile. - "That's a deal, then. Give me a call once you feel fine. We'll miss you. What about your tests? How does that go?"

"First grades of this year were straight As, so I'm hoping to keep the score, sir. I hope you write me a good review." - You joked around and laughed. You sat in the office for a few minutes, so Flo should have the papers copied already. So slowly, you got up and smiled at Stanford, who was still watching as you were leaving.

"You can be sure, Hopper. You're a great addition to our team, so why would I do you any harm? See you when you'll feel good." - He waved at you lightly and turned around to look at the paperwork on his desk. Two weeks. Fourteen days. That was enough to catch the Shapeshifter in your opinion.

Flo secretly passed you a fold full of freshly copied papers that were still warm. So Hopper was doing the same things? He was taking the work home?

Sure, sometimes you saw him thinking over a case while he smoked a cigarette at home in the evening when he couldn't fall asleep, but this must've happened way often. What was Hopper's life like without you? Were you really that much like your uncle?

It took you ten minutes - to get the files and to talk out a holiday with Stanford. Steve was surprised since he parked literally a few seconds ago since he took you a coffee and a few donuts at Dunkin' Donuts.

"You're done already? I thought that they'll be having you there at least for twenty minutes." - Steve told you when you sat beside him. You furrowed and looked at him. - "Cops are so serious all the time, so I'd say that they are doing the administrative a seriously long time. That was an attempt to be funny." - Steve protected his ass with this excuse while he gave you his cup of coffee and started the engine again.

"You're joking about my profession, Steven. Don't forget that I can still kick you goddamn ass in an instance. I'm only playing sick for fourteen days." - You took a sip from your cup, unbelievably gazing out of the window. He was playing on thin ice.

"I was joking, Hopper, I was joking. Calm down. Don't forget where you're living now." - Steve looked at you while you were waiting on the green light, while Queen were playing in the car.

"Oh, I can live at Mike Wheeler's basement, can't I?" - You answered ironically, taking another sip. Jesus, that coffee was delicious. Steve knew what he was buying. He mumbled something like You totally can live with Mike, I dare you to. - "But really, is fourteen days enough?"

"Sure, more than enough. It took only a week to find the Mindflayer and to discover a super-secret Russian base underneath the mall in the summer and most of the time, I was wearing that Scoops Ahoy uniform. And I was looking like a million bucks." - Steve answered from his focused gaze watching the street in front of the car. He leaned his head towards you, motioning you to give him a sip.

"This is extremely dangerous and as a cop, I don't like this whole situation at all." - You need to say that you giggled, while Steve tried to drive straight but drink coffee at the same time. You just liked that boy, he could be funny at times.

"But it's hilarious. My favorite trick. Ladies are going crazy from this." - Steve gave you a big smile and you just rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your coffee. 

The car stopped in front of Wheeler's residence ten minutes before ten o'clock. But you weren't getting out of his car - instead, he took his donuts and coffee and looked at you. - “Well, take the radio from under your seat and call Dustybun.” 

“You can't do that on your own, Harrington?” - You mumbled and almost threw your cup of coffee at Steve, almost spilling out his. You found the radio, which was pretty messy - there were pieces of food stuck on it, a clear stain from coffee and... Oh, Lord, what was the last thing? Did you want to know? - “This is just fucking disgusting.” 

“Shut up and call Dustin before I let go of at least one of the cups.” - Steve mumbled, barely holding everything in his hands. You slowly exhaled and pushed the buttons on the radio. 

“Dustin? Hopper here. Do you copy?” - You asked, watching Mike's house, but then you turned your head to look at Steve and it was way more interesting. His balancing was on point, you needed to admit.

“Yeah. Why do you have Steves radio?” - Dustin asked with a true interest in his voice, but you just turned the radio again and chuckled. - “Don't worry about that douche, he's here and he's trying to impress me.”

“Is he?” - Dustin asked back, but it didn't sound like a joke at all. But Steve just panicked, leaned to the radio and gave you a short look. You rather turned the radio and put it to Steve's lips. - “You tell another word and your ass is grass, you're dead Handerson, do you copy?” - Steve hissed into the radio. Dustin just hummed in response. - “Now tell little Wheeler to move his little tush and open up the door, or I'll let go of two cups of coffee which weren't exactly the cheapest. Copy, over and kill.” 

After that, you sat there with your lips parted, having a daring smile on your lips. - “All right, okay. What was that, Harrington? Are you threatening a small kid?”

“No, I just politely told him to mind his own damn business. Will, you be so nice and take your things already?” - Steve almost threw your pack at you and you were just laughing when you got off the car. Mike stood there already, waving at both of you. 

“You have everything?” - Mike asked, leading you to his basement. At that moment, Karen came to look at what's happening. She was rather surprised to see both of you standing in the hall of your room.

“Hopper? Steve? What you're doing here?” - She went to hug you in a mother-like way, smiling at the both of you. Mike just widened his eyes and he was about to protest, but you knew your way with parents. Your parents, Mike's parents, Hopper - you knew your way. 

“We would like to go camping for a weekend with the kids. Since anyone else is in the town, Nancy is at school and Robin isn't available, we just have an early meeting, to sketch our schedules, like when I should have a weekend off, and these, you know, it is a lot to plan.” - You chuckled. You spoke so calmly and everyone in the room just bought you the story. Even these two who knew you're just blatantly lying were buying it.

“Yeah, yeah.” - Mike nodded, being overly dramatic. - “We want to go camping with Steve, Hopper, Robin, and Nance. Maybe having Jonathan and Will would be really nice, so, we really have to go and... Talk.”

“Yeah. It was my idea originally.” - Steve said proudly while Mike continued on his way to the basement door. You just grabbed his jacket and dragged him behind Mike. - “You wish to come up with an idea like this.” - Karen only grinned and walked back to the kitchen.

“Dustin, you should've seen it. Y/N just thought a lie on the spot and it was so good that my mom believed all of it.” - Mike said to Dustin and sat down on an old couch. It was messy and smelled funny, but you didn't say a word. - “I didn't know that cops can lie as you do.” 

“It was good, all honor to you, Hopper.” - Steve showed you a thumb up and took a bite of a chocolate donut. You sat next to Dustin, saying hi to him. 

“You think of me as of a cop, but you all forget that Jim Hopper was my uncle and almost something like a dad.” - You grinned at Steve. - “I had to come up with sorts of crazy apologies and lies. But I think that Hopper knew about each one of them.”

Then you actually got to the unpacking of the fold Flo printed out for you. There were six people gone missing in the spawn of the last month - old Mrs. Duffer and that boy Alex. You put those ones away since you thought that Shapeshifter won't take their looks again.

There were two men from the nearby factory who got lost on the same day, but really, you found it improbable that the Shapeshifter would take out two men at once. The last two people was a girl around Mike and Dustin's age and a man, who looked like he will climb out of the picture and will eat you alive.

Just when you establish on who did you thought could be really killed by the Shapeshifter and who just got lost or decided to leave. You were left with the young girl, killed Mrs. Duffer and Alex, the small boy.

But everyone was still a suspect.

Karen brought you lunch down to the basement when you were sitting there for two hours already. It was a plate of grilled chicken breasts with vegetables and potatoes. And it was totally delicious.

While you were eating, there was time to finally discuss the ambush as Steve called it. Mike Wheeler had surprised you with an amount of knowledge about ambushes and Demogorgons in general.

"We have to take it somewhere where we know it and where we're sure about what we're going to do. We can't let it take play the surprise card." - Mike said with his mouth full. Your gaze wandered around as you chewed grilled meat. To be honest, you kinda didn't know what they were talking about at all. You've never hunted down a Demogorgon, you've never seen it in action, you've never fought against it.

"He means that we have to know our surroundings - it would be truly a dumbass move to take it to the woods or somewhere out there, where our hands are tied and we're practically blind. Knowing your surroundings does a lot." - Dustin explained what Mike had said to you and you hummed back in response. That made sense.

"What if we take it somewhere where we've already fought it?" - Steve tried to say something meaningful to the subject.

"Hopper wouldn't be glad if we would break her cabin like we did in the summer, we've already rampaged the public pool, we've fought it in Will's house, in the wood, the car graveyard and who can forget Starcourt?" - Mike started to list on his fingers, looking Steve in the eyes.

"You mean school?" - Dustin asked Steve. Steve clearly didn't mean school, but it made him appear smart, so he slowly nodded, testing the waters. - "Mike, that's actually a good idea. I knew you were smart sometimes, Steve!" - Dustin stood up and Steve truly didn't know if he should be offended or complimented. - "It's not too hard to get into the school in the evening, we'll just beg mister Clarke to borrow us his keys to the radio room. Hopper will act as the responsible adult who will promise to stay there with us after closing hours. She's a cop, so no-one will question it."

"And I'm not a responsible adult?" - Steve asked offendedly, looking at Dustin, who just giggled right into Steve's face.

"Steve, you're everything but adult and responsible. On the other hand, you're the best babysitter that Hawkins's basketball team has ever seen." - Dustin patted Steve's shoulder in a friendly way, but you furrowed as a new wave of insecurity rose inside of you. Your silent voice practically muted down the bickering between Steve and Dustin.

"What if it won't work along?" - You asked silently, but even if the question didn't sound like it had too much sense in it. Everyone just questioned it while you straightened up. - "What if it's not after me? What if I and Mr. Mom here wrong and it was just a coincidence that it found me. It maybe isn't out to hunt me down. Maybe it's just hunting down literally anyone that crosses their path."

Everyone shut up for a moment and looked somewhere in the distance. That was a valid question and an argument that had an actual point.

"We need to test the theory out, I guess." - Dustin said quietly and Mike looked at him.

"No. No. No. No. I know that look, dickheads and yeah, that's a no." - Steve said loudly, standing up, laughing almost unbelievably. No-one else was laughing though. You didn't know what was going on and even if the boys did know what was going on, they weren't laughing at all.

Steve stood up, put his palms on his lips and swiftly licked his lips, looking at every one of you. - "And there's too little of us to stand against that. No. Don't ever bring that up again."

"Calm down, Harrington, she doesn't even know that we talked about her." - Mike looked at you and you just rose your eyebrows. You truly didn't have a clue that the boys were talking about you.

"What does that have something to do with me? Why are you standing? Sit the hell down, babysitter." - Your palm tugged Steve's denim jacket to sit down, while you let Mike and Dustin speak their minds.

"There was the first Demogorgon two years ago. It dragged Will to the Upside Down and it had eaten Barb. But Nancy and Jonathan figured out that the Demogorgon is something like a shark. It senses blood from miles away - they cut their palms to attract it. It worked the last time at least..." - Mike told you quietly and you just looked at your palm, opening and closing it once or twice.

"So you want me to cut my palm so we could to lure the monster inside the school?" - You asked worriedly. - "What if it doesn't work? What will we do then?"

"That's why we need to test it out, Hopper. That's when the old car graveyard can come on handy. We can use the bus as a barricade again." - Dustin mumbled, visibly surprised by the brightness of his plan.

"The Shapeshifter is smart. Perhaps even intelligent. It uses tactics, and not just hunting ones. It tried to scare me when I was in my cabin, it tapped on the windows, scratched it." - You looked at the boys and licked your lips. - "What I'm trying to say is that it probably won't just fall for the trap that easily."

"We'll be prepared. There will be Lucas, Max, I and Dustin, you and Steve. Maybe even Nance and Robin. And that's eight people against one Shapeshifter - at both school and the car graveyard. We stand a fair chance." - Mike said and you actually believed him that he believes that you can really make it. - "And if it's smart, just like you're saying, Hopper, it will run away from the graveyard. It will definitely know that it's in danger."

You looked at Steve without pretty much nothing in your face. Steve didn't agree, not a bit, but at least he sat back on his damn ass. - "It's a good idea, Harrington. You've been there with me, maybe the Shapeshifter is after both of us?"

"Nice try, but I'll gladly stay out of your trouble. But, if you want to test it out, I guess we're testing it out." - Steve agreed with you, but you could say it doesn't bring him any happiness.

"Yeah. Let's plan this whole thing out, shall we?" - You asked the boys and took a small notebook and a pen which was Mike giving you.

Both you and Steve alongside Dustin were leaving the Wheeler's residence just half an hour before five o'clock and half an hour before Steve's parents came home and you had to be locked in his room. Two pictures were hanging just above the driver's seat, so you always saw the faces of the two lost persons.

Slowly, you drove Dustin home and after that, Steve drove you both to his home. He helped you with the bag to your room, you hid the file in your room and he locked you inside as he went to greet his parents.

In Mike Wheeler's house, there was everyone already sitting at the table, including Nancy and Ted. Karen was looking at Mike, her eyes constantly running back to him and then to Holly. Until Mike asked her what's up with her.

"I was thinking about Jim's goddaughter and Steve." - Karen tried to think about how to slowly lean into the subject she was interested in.

"What about them?" - Mike asked back annoyedly, playing with his food, looking at Nance. She was truly surprised that her mom has seen you together. Mike told her that you were there to have a small meeting, talking about the Demogorgon, but what the hell did your mom see?

"I just think they're looking really nice together, that's all. Are they dating?" - Karen casually asked from serving the fresh salad on her plate, having a contented smile on her face. Nancy and Mike looked at each other, prepared to defend your name if they found it necessary.

"I'm sure they aren't." - Nancy said and took a sip of her lemonade. - "If they were dating, Steve wouldn't be able to shut his mouth about it."

"Yeah, I think so." - Mike agreed with his older sister immediately - they were able to be a great team when the situation demanded them to be one.

You, at the same time, were sitting on the floor of Steve's floor when the lock suddenly unlocked. You hoped that it's Steve with some food, but instead, Mrs. Harrington walked in first followed by Steve. At least, she was holding a plate of food, putting it on Steve's desk.

You immediately stood up and your cheeks reddened when you thought about what you're going to say to Mrs. Harrington. But she just smiled at you, waving you off.

"Steve already told me what happened. I didn't know that deers can have rabies or that they're so aggressive during it. I heard it broke your door in the early morning?" - She stood up and looked at you. The worst thing about all of this was that she was deadly serious.

So, Steve thought that deers could catch rabies. And he obviously told his mom that deer which caught rabies is why you're practically living in their house. And she believed it. That boy was either a total genius or a complete, utter idiot.

"Oh, yes. It suddenly just speeded into my door and broke the wood in half, so... I need to buy another door." - You nodded and fidgeted your fingers on your belly. Mrs. Harrington looked at Steve for a while and then she waved him off and shut the door.

"Or, if it is because you feel alone there, honey, you can talk to me." - She hummed, gently soothed your cheek and caught your palms in hers. - "I know it's been a lot and that living on your own isn't funny. You have anyone to talk to, you woke up and it's empty and when you go to sleep, it's also empty." - That was true. It was awfully empty at the times you were just coming home from work. You sat down on the armchair, took the leftovers from lunch and subconsciously waited on Hopper. You usually slept in the armchair, waiting for your godfather to open the door and come in.

"No, it's just rabies. I'll just get the window repaired and buy a new door and then I'll come back to my cabin. I'll be here for a week if I can." - You smiled back and she nodded. - "Thank you for your hospitality. It means so much to me."

"As for that... Dean still doesn't know you're here and it would probably be better if it stays this way until you move back. It's silly, I know, but Dean would not understand as I and Steve do.” - She told you and hugged your shoulders with one arm and you let her. - “And if anything happens, if you need something, just call me Catherine, alright?” 

After that, she left you in the room and Steve walked in with the glass of lemonade which Mrs. Harrington served you. 

“I need to tell at least my mom since she does the laundry and she would notice that the food would disappear.” - Was one of the last things Steve had told you that night.

[gaycrouton]

The Spy Who Loves Her Boss

Hey! I absolutely loved “The Spy Who Dumped Me”, and being it was my two favorite actresses I HAD to write something. I think we all related to Morgan hardcore, and I just wanted to explore how she might feel coming in that Monday. Obviously it must’ve gone well since her an Audrey were shown working for them a year later, lol. Hope you enjoy!

Morgan wasn’t shy. Since she was a little girl, running around and entertaining people was the one thing that made her truly, unquestionably happy. She loved seeing smiles on people’s faces and she loved hearing an audience’s appreciation. It made her feel fulfilled. Sometimes her outgoing nature helped her land acting gigs, sometimes it embarrassed Audrey, and sometimes it made her hit on powerful women that intimidated the living shit out of her.

God, that woman.

Sure, she was a stereotypical young, gay woman who idolized attractive, older women. It was a stereotype for a reason after all, and that MI6 just proves it. She’s a living breathing renaissance painting. She carries herself with absolute power and femininity, as strong as she is beautiful. She’s what every woman dreams of being. Though, she didn’t know if she wanted to be her or be in her. Morgan couldn’t get her out of her mind, yet she didn’t even know her name.

So far, she’d only had two interactions with her and she’d call them both moderately successful. She wasn’t necessarily dismissed, so she’d call that a plus. Okay, she may have laid it on a teeny bit thick when they first met at the Intelligence Headquarters, but, again, who doesn’t love compliments? And there were just so many things to compliment, it took awhile for her to cover them all. Morgan was a trained actor, so she was pretty astute at picking up facial subtleties; Government Bey couldn’t keep that ghost of a smile hidden well enough when she was getting complimented.

Also, as she had reminded Audrey plenty of times since, a stone cold fox like that would not have willingly touched a person unless she wanted to. If she wasn’t at least amused at the bare minimum, there would have been no reason for MI6 to fully wrap her arm around her. Audrey insisted she had just been teasing her, but that didn’t dissuade Morgan.

She also trusted her enough to give her the honor of telling Sebastian he could come back to work. Of course, he still called her immediately after anyay, but still, the sentiment still stays.

She knew it was bold, going through with her insistence to show up on Monday. This was the British Military Intelligence after all, not a resistant acting gig, but god she wanted this. Not just working alongside a woman like her, but to live this type of high-pace life of excitement. Doing something for the greater good that made her feel alive. She was hung up on after asking what she liked in her coffee, but she’d gotten worse rejections in her life.

She spent the entire weekend nervously thinking about what would happen on Monday, and now the day was here. Sebastian, probably with the encouragement of Audrey, had agreed to let her accompany him to the office. She ran to the local Starbucks before he picked her up, spending ten minutes analyzing the menu, hypothesizing what the enchanting MI6 lady might possibly want. After agonizing deliberation, she settled on the safest option and got a plain iced coffee, which was now leaving little watermarks on her jeans from the condensation on the plastic.

“Do you think she’ll kick me out?” Morgan asked, breaking the silence. She honestly knew she would be, but she wanted to know what to expect. She was trying to formulate different possible responses to the situation, so she could hide her nervousness behind a mask of jovial understanding.

“I’m positive she’ll kick you out,” he laughed gently, not making fun of her but enjoying her insistence.

Morgan nodded in understanding before remembering something important, “Hey, what’s her name?”

Sebastian was silent for a disconcerting amount of time and she figured he wasn’t allowed to tell her, but his actual reasoning was even more ridiculous. “Umm, I’m not actually sure.”

Morgan’s jaw dropped open and she slapped the side of his arm, ignoring the way he winced and grabbed the still-recovering appendage. “Shut up! Is she like one of those bad ass boss characters in the movies? She just hides namelessly in the shadows until she needs to deal out orders and assign high-intensity missions?” This woman could not get any more badass.

“Ahh, no. I just-” he drew out his words in slight embarrassment, “-uh, can’t remember.”

Morgan turned fully in her seat to glare at him, “That woman granted you full access to know her name and you forgot!” she exclaimed, her voice raising with each word.

He let out a little chagrined laugh and tried to cover up his foolishness, “Well, we just call her ‘boss’.”

Sebastian was cool in her books, don’t get her wrong, but right now he was being such a stupid man. He clearly could recognize beauty, he fell for Audrey after all, but to ignore the enigma he worked so closely to was a brainless misstep for someone who worked in the Intelligence Department. “Sebastian, Sebastian, Sebastian. My handsome, but yet oh so misguided friend, I am disappointed in you.”

“Don’t forget I’m the only one getting you access to her,” he warned jokingly.

“Disappointment absolved,” she beamed immediately.

They spent the rest of the drive chit chatting and arguing about music trivia before arriving to the secret headquarters. She’d been so focused on what she’d say to her government crush that she hadn’t considered there might be an issue getting in. Apparently Sebastian had, and for that she was forever grateful. Through each security check point, he explained she was one of the American Girls that helped solve the issue with Duffer. Apparently, everyone there hated ‘Harvard Boy’ and not only let her in, but thanked her, much to her delight.

As they were walking down the hall to what she presumed was the boss lady’s office, Sebastian leaned down to her and whispered while walking, “Just so we’re on the same page. I don’t want to be put back on forced leave, so as far as I’m aware, she told you during your phone call that you needed to show up with me and I’m simply trusting you.”

“She did tell me to show up with you today,” she admonished, already acting the part.

“No she didn-oh, I see. You’re good at that,” he grinned.

“They didn’t hire me in that Blockbuster ad for nothing.”

“It’s too bad Progresso won’t be graced with your talent,” a husky feminine voice quipped from right behind them.

Both she and Sebastian stopped in their tracks and turned around simultaneously, seeing the statuesque blonde standing just a foot behind them. She even had heels on and they hadn’t heard her. It was equal parts terrifying and arousing. It took Morgan a second to register, but a smile broke out on her face when she realized the G-woman remembered her prior engagement. “I’m touched you remembered!” she exclaimed in excitement.

“Yes. I spent all weekend thinking about it,” she deadpanned.

“Really?”

“No.” She sighed as Morgan’s enthusiasm wasn’t dampened and turned to Sebastian. “So I take it you’re responsible for her being here?”

“She told me-” Sebastian started, but was cut off by Morgan. If this was going to be the last opportunity she had to have a conversation with this woman, she was going to monopolize on it.

“Yes, I convinced him you told me to bring me during our phone call. Are you impressed I was able to pull the wool over one of your own?” she boasted proudly, ignoring the slight nudge Sebastian gave her.

The woman regarded her for a moment before teasing, “Yes, blown away.” Morgan smiled as Sebastian watched in nervous anticipation of reprimandation. “My office, both of you.” Words that inspired optimism in Morgan brought dread in Sebastian as they walked through the door at the end of the hall.

Her office was exactly as she would have expected. It was sleek, classy, and elegant. It looked pristine and stylish and she was still staring in awe as the other two took a seat. “Morgan,” the sultry voice called out. Her heart fluttered in her chest at the sound of her name coming from the woman in that beautiful british accent that haunted her daydreams.

“Hmm?” she hummed while examining a potted plant to see if it was real or not.

“Sit down.” Morgan did as told and sat in the seat directly across from her.

Before she had a chance to start reprimanding them, Morgan perked up in her seat. “Hi, sorry. I just wanted a chance to have formal introductions. I haven’t gotten a chance to meet you. I’m-”

“Morgan Freeman. Thirty four years old, born January of 1984. You went to University for Theatre and you’ve gotten sporadic acting jobs ever since. You recently took it upon yourself to transport a piece of highly confidential government property with your long term friend Audrey Stockton. Now you’ve shown up hoping for a job.” MI6 finished.

Morgan sat there, jaw agape in pure shock. She knew so much about her. Off the top of her head nonetheless. It was like she could hear her thoughts because she added, “I’m the head of the Intelligence Bureau. I have access to everything you’ve ever done.”

“You missed two important facts though,” Morgan lilted, receiving a cocked eyebrow. “I also brought you this today,” passing the iced coffee to her over the desk, pleased when she took it from her with a millimeter smile. “And I am beyond flattered by your impeccable memory.”

She was met with a slightly amused stare as the woman took a sip of her coffee. She set the cup on her desk and reached over, extending her hand out for Morgan who accepted it hasilty. “Wendy Davis, head of the Security Intelligence Service. Appreciative of your coffee.”

“Shut up! Wendy Davis-”

“Not that Wendy Davis,” Wendy sighed, still indulging Morgan in the world’s longest handshake.

“I know, but Morgan Freeman, Wendy Davis, what a match in incidental-celebrity-names heaven our we, Wendy!” she exclaimed. Wendy let out a breath of amusement as she disentangled herself from Morgan’s hand.

“Hi, Sebastian Henshaw, an actual employee here, awaiting acknowledgement of his existence,” Sebastian declared, interrupting the serenity of the moment Morgan was creating.

“I apologize, Henshaw,” she sighed, taking another drink of her coffee before spinning around and grabbing a file out of her desk.

“No problem, Wendy,” he beamed.

“Nope, you call me Boss and Boss only,” she reprimanded without looking up from the file.

“Yes, Boss,” he apologized, ignoring the taunting smile Morgan was sending his way.

“So. As long as you’re feeling healed enough, I have an assignment in China that needs to be dealt with. Apparently there’s been a breach in security systems and information is being mishandled by the Chinese mafia. It most likely will be a longer assignment, possibly taking even a year,” she explained.

“Excuse me,” Morgan spoke up, a bit thrown she wasn’t walking home right now. Wendy’s piercing blue eyes shot up over the file as she looked expectantly at Morgan. “May I lend my services on this mission?” she asked.

“You’re sitting in the briefing, are you not?” Wendy said as if it was obvious.

Sebastian and Morgan looked at each other before looking back at her and exclaiming, “Wait, what?”in perfect unison.

“Well, you seemed to display at least a moderate amount of competency and skill during this recent escapade. I chose a mission of a similar calibre and I figured if you come back alive, we can see about keeping you on for good. Perhaps you find it’s not as much fun as you believe it to be, or maybe your living on this last mission was a fluke or luck. We’ll see,” she explained.

Morgan felt like she was floating. This morning she woke up thinking the highlight of her day would be seeing this beautiful woman, now it was seeing this beautiful woman and getting to continue her dream job. “Oh my gosh. Thank you so much,” she exclaimed standing up. She pressed her index and middle finger to her forehead in a salute and continued her gratitudes, “I promise I will do my best work and I will absolutely do everything in my power to make you proud.” She let her fingers fly away from her in a full salute as Wendy clenched her jaw to avoid smiling.

“Are you sure about this?” Sebastian asked while sitting down.

“I see potential,” she said politely, giving Morgan an appreciative glance before putting on the mask of strict professionalism. “However, we will need to do some official paperwork and procedures before you can go out into the field as an official, interim, agent.”

“Of course,” Morgan replied, trying to mimic the severity and conviction of the woman across from her.

“Oh, and I would like you to ask Audrey if she would also join. I have a feeling that she equals out your eccentricities. You seem to be a good team.”

“Oh, you’re the best. Your wish is my command,” Morgan gushed, poorly concealing her excitement.

Officially one of the best days of her life.

Hope you enjoyed! It was a fun challenge writing this! -Nicole (Twitter/Tumblr: gaycrouton)