#if that is not how the show ends the duffers will be personally hearing from me
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I apologize in advance for this monstrosity of a post. But I have to get a point across here. Like...either Byler is endgame and is going to happen, or Will Byers is going to go down as one of the most tragic TV Show characters of all time.
Sounds a little like hyperbole, no? Well, let's just recap. This starts when Will is 12. Just 12 years old. This adorable, sweet, little, innocent bean here. Just keep in mind these pictures for future reference:
He's kidnapped by an interdimensional monster and forced into a dark, cold, lonely place all by himself. He's stuck in another dimension for a whole week, trying desperately to get out, wondering if anyone is going to save him, all while constantly fearing for his life. Alas, the demogorgon did get to him:
And, even after he was rescued, he was still puking up slugs:
All this is from S1. Enough trauma to last several lifetimes. But wait, there's more.
Apparently Will hadn't suffered enough, so they had the Mindflayer set its sights on him. And well, we all know S2 didn't turn out the best for this now 13 year old boy.
And if the mental pain and anguish and loss of innocence of having your body forcefully entered against your will isn't enough, they decided to heap on some intense physical suffering as well:
And to end the series, you have to have the monster literally burned out of you by your own mother while you're tied down to a bed.
Surely our boy has had enough right? Wrong. On to Season 3. 14 year old Will is mostly sidelined this Season, but he's present enough to get ignored by his friends and put down by his best friend for his "childish" interests, a fact that hurts Will so bad he breaks down and calls himself stupid before resorting to demolishing his childhood fortress. The same haven of safety that helped to save his life in the Upside Down. He's then forced to pack up and move from the only home he's ever known, severing all his friendship ties, such as they were.
Well at least they're gonna fix stuff in Season 4. So here we go, and...what? Excuse me....hmmm...okay. So I've just gotten word they in fact did NOT fix things in Season 4. We have Will, now 15 (or maybe actually still 14 since the Duffers apparently FORGOT HIS BIRTHDAY) so happy to see Mike at the airport for the first time since leaving town, get his hug physically rejected (when Mike has no problem hugging anyone else this series). He's then forced to third wheel and watch his best friend/love of his life have fun with his step-sister. He then LIES TO MIKE (something we have seasons of evidence that Will hates to do) in order to project his own feelings for Mike onto El because that's what he thinks Mike needs to hear. And he's then forced to help Mike "confess" his "love" for El as he stands there and hears Mike say that his life didn't really begin until the day Will disappeared?
Guys, even if you don't ship Byler, you have to admit....this is a pretty fucked up life in the span of 3-4 years. My point in posting all of this (and actually depressing the hell out of myself as I looked for all the screenshots) is if they really leave him like this, and Season 5 doesn't turn things around for Will...or maybe even somehow gets worse and they either kill him off, or force him to stand there and fake a smile while Mike and El live happily ever after....well then fuck this show.
They introduced us to this sweet innocent kid, made us all fall in love with his character, then treated him like their personal punching bag for four seasons. If they aren't planning on giving him a happy ending, that's just downright sadistic. After everything Will has gone through, they're going to make him a gay kid in the 80s living in smalltown Indiana in middle America, with an unrequited love for his childhood best friend? A fact that makes him feel "different" and like he's a "mistake"? Overkill for the sake of overkill. Trauma p*rn. And that's just the suffering they've shown us onscreen. Just think of how many nights laying in bed alone Will has had these thoughts about himself. Or desperately wishing that Mike felt the same way, even though he "knows" it's hopeless. Truly tragic.
Yes, other beloved characters in this show have been traumatized too, yes. But they've also all had sustained happy moments that the show has shown us on screen (for characters that were around for more than one season). Every time Will seemingly gets an ounce of happiness it's violently snatched away.
I refuse to believe that the show doesn't want to give Will a happy ending. There has to be a reason for his suffering. And yes, I think Byler is the only satisfactory happy ending. And that's not my choice, that was the choice of the showrunners. They made being in love with Mike his whole character in S4. Gay pining at its finest. Trying to intro a new love interest at the last minute isn't going to cut it. I'm not going full delusional like before. But I do believe that S5 Byler has a good chance of happening. Otherwise...it kind of taints the whole experience.
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On a serious note regarding the singing though, I do legitimately think that's why they wrote the scenes of El not liking Mike's singing in s3 and of Will singing in s4.
Singing and music was an established Will Thing in s1. Will and Jonathon listened to music together and Will sang Should I Stay or Should I Go Now. Mike heard Will singing on the radio and that's how he learned that Will was still alive. The Duffer Brothers picked up the love triangle storyline more heavily in s3, showed that Mike wanted to sing (a Will Thing) (we find out later that Mike also wants to play DnD and open presents in the season finale), and showed that El didn't like the singing (and that Mike felt ashamed of the presents and DnD with her, and it's no wonder after she shut down his singing so hard, telling him bluntly when he asked if she liked it: "no"). Singing is a Will Thing, not an El Thing.
But then by the end of the season, we've heard The Neverending Story being sung by 2 other couples, and suddenly happily singing together with your significant other isn't just a Will Thing, it was a Cute Teen Relationship Thing. And El and Mike didn't have that Thing.
We hadn't heard Will sing since s1, but when Mike and El are extremely rocky and Mike and Will are getting closer again in s4, Will sings again. And suddenly we remember that, hey, Will loves singing. Will singing made Mike have hope again, it was a sign that Will was still alive. Will singing was what Mike clung to for days.
Will sings, and it's still kind of a Will Thing, and he doesn't have his Cute Teen Relationship yet, but god, he's in love with Mike Wheeler. Mike Wheeler, who wanted to sing in the middle of kissing but was shushed, who wants to love his gf but doesn't, who wants to be needed but isn't sure if he is. And Will doesn't knows that Mike wanted to sing, or that Mike can't say "I love you" to his gf, or that Mike would love to hear that Will needs him, but the audience does.
And that's why we see Dustin and Suzie singing and having a great time, we see Lucas and Max singing and having a great time, but when Mike sings, El wants him to stop. Because El isn't the right person for Mike to sing with.
Will is. Because it's a Will Thing, established from s1. And it's a Cute Teen Relationship Thing, established in s3. Will singing gave Mike hope and happiness and Will still gives Mike hope and happiness. Will would sing along with Mike if Mike stopped kissing for a good song. And THAT'S why we should get a scene where Mike and Will sing together in s5. Because they will absolutely be That Cute Teen Relationship.
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ok so here’s how i think this whole situation went. El tells Mike about Will making a painting and about how she thinks it’s for a girl and then for some reasons they show us Mike’s reaction then at the airport there’s Mike’s weird reaction to Will trying to hug him (was it jealousy because he thinks Will likes a girl? idk) then he notices the painting and asks Will about it (hoping that it was actually for him?) and Will probably thought Mike didn’t care about the painting cuz he was acting weird so he just told him that it was just a painting acting like it was nothing important and Mike went back to thinking it was for a girl, at rink o mania Will thinks Mike wasn’t paying attention to him at all but it turns out Mike was paying attention to him and told him that he ruined the whole day cuz he was “being a douche to El” but Will calls him out and asks him if he was mad cuz he didn’t talk to Mike cuz he understood what that was really about and Will thinks that Mike only called him a couple times but it turns out Mike tried to call him many times but the line was always busy and kept complaining to Dustin about it(and probably wrote him letters but never sent them) and then Will asks him “and us?” (while talking about their friendship) and Mike (who thinks Will is straight and likes a girl) took it romantically and felt the need to clarify that they’re friends and then after Will says that they used to be best friends the camera pans back to Mike and he starts talking again (and in the closet starts playing after Mike starts talking again). now let’s take a look at this scene in the desert (from @mikeandwillel ) Mike relates to what Will is saying cuz he’s scared of hurting El with what he actually wants to say (he’s gay)
In the van Will gives him the painting and he went back to thinking it really was for him (yes it was) but then Will lied to him and told him that El commissioned it (no she didn’t) but then Will started talking about El’s feelings(his feelings) and since Mike already used El’s name as a way to disguise why he was mad at Will he understood what Will actually meant and that he loves him back so when they went to the Surfer Boy Pizza place he tried to break up with El and tell her what he was too afraid to tell her when they got into a fight but then Argyle interrupted them and then the topic totally changed so he thought it was best to tell her later. look at this parallel (from @mikeandwillel )
“i care for you.. so much”
Things got bad and he didn’t know what to do and then Will told him that he’s the heart and reminded him about what Will told him in the van and he probably thought that he was being stupid for hoping Will was talking about himself in the van and for hoping he felt the same way
and now El was in danger and he had to act fast and so he told her what he thought she wanted to hear what he thought would save her (but El knows he lied). In an interview Millie said that El needs to find out who she is without Mike and that at the end of s4 she found out she’s her own superhero(which is why i think she’s gonna be the one who breaks up with Mike) and remember how s4 ended?
with the 2 couples and the the future couple(?) together on the hill which parallels this scene oh and those are the same flowers Mike gave her at the beginning of s4 (the Duffers personally handpicked them to make sure of it)
#stranger things 4#byler#will and mike#will byers#mike wheeler#mike wheeler is gay#mike wheeler is a boy kisser#platonic elmike#dawson's creek#gay mike wheeler#mike wheeler is queer#mike wheeler has internalized homophobia
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no but hear me out:
i want robin to kiss a girl in season 5 so badly and no matter who it is, in the end of the day i will take it because she needs a gf already
BUT
it has to be nancy. like it has to be.
it's not that i dislike vickie or anything but i just (i better not get canceled for that one) feel like her character was kind of poorly written? no hate to the actress at all, but to me it just felt like they copy-pasted robin's entire personality and turned it into a new character?? i don't know maybe that's just me?
robin deserves a complex character by her side (nancy god damn wheeler) and i am dying on that hill.
nancy is and has always been such a complex character and giving her a girlfriend would only EMPHASIZE this complexity.
from s1 one until now nancy has been captured in this love triangle and it is pretty clear that she never felt fully understood in neither of those relationships.
like she always had to prove herself you know what i mean? with both steve and jonathan.
now guess what? she never had to prove herself around robin. ROBIN EVEN PUT HER IN CHARGE HELLO??
and robin...well the way she rambled around nancy?? the way she looked down when she saw the way nancy was looking at steve?? the way she called for nancy when she went after steve?? the way they held hands???
they both deserve each other so much.
i could literally talk about this for HOURS oh my god. the ronance hyperfixation is going strong!
hello anon i understand u so strongly, and im sorry this took me so long to get to! i promise it wasn't intentional!
i will forever be on the train that even if vickie was done better than she was, she will always be a character introduced to give the lesbian character a love interest, she was doomed to this position from the start because she had no other real purpose! rockie will always feel inorganic because vickie is nothing beyond a love interest for robin.
this is. such a common problem, ESPECIALLY in wlw ships, and that's why i love ronance. nancy wheeler is immune to this phenomenon because she and robin were both created independently and with different purposes, and their stories come together so well its actually insane
nancy wheeler is one of those characters that is so hard to understand if you don't look at her through a queer lens, or at the very least an anti-misogynist one. i think the best thing the duffers could do for her is finish the arc she started in season 1, which is focused on self-realization and discovery.
the entire show she has been told who she is, what she should do, who she likes, who she loves, by everyone! it is never nancy who says these things, it is other characters telling her, even barb, even robin. how insane would it be if she came to the conclusion on her own that she liked women? or at the very least had looked at her own feelings not through the lens of someone who didn't understand her or the situation they were talking about.
robin falls into these same patterns, but the more she gets to know nancy, the more she really understands her, the more she backs off on those kinds of comments and the more she uplifts nancy's voice. there is SO MUCH POTENTIAL in them and the fact that it will more likely than not be ignored is so. agonizing. please duffer brothers see the vision
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Eddissy Canon Confirmations
All the canon confirmations for Eddissy in Vol. 2 of Stranger Things still have me on a high. If Eddie and Chrissy did not die, they would have ended up together, no ifs, ands, or buts (this has also been confirmed by the Duffer Brothers, Joseph Quinn, and Grace Van Dien, but I want to focus on only Vol. 2 for this).
1. “Make him pay.”
This is a profound moment because Eddie cares that people are being hurt by Vecna, but Chrissy was the one he experienced first hand, the person he knew. He got dragged into everything with the Upside Down because he wanted to help her, and then he watched as this loving and sweet person, who treated him like a human being, not a freak, gets murdered. And he couldn’t do anything about it, but now they can. This is Eddie explicitly saying he wants Vecna to suffer for what he did to Chrissy, and I love it.
2. “Chrissy, this is for you”
This is the moment I for sure knew that they’re canon, or at least would have been. It most definitely confirms Eddie’s feelings towards her. He is risking his life for Hawkins, but in the end, he’s doing it all in the memory of Chrissy. He is dedicating all his efforts to Chrissy. He wanted her to watch him play guitar because he invited her to his show, but she never made it, so the last time he ever played his guitar was for her. If that isn’t canon confirmation about eddissy, then I don’t know what is.
3. “If Chrissy wanted help, she would have come to me. Not Eddie, not that freak, not ever!”
Hearing this line made me gasp, because it confirmed what we thought about Jason, and his and Chrissy’s relationship. People kept trying to play off his actions as though he was a caring boyfriend that just loved his girlfriend so much, but then we learn that his man hunt of the group was all because of his own possessive selfishness.
It was never about losing Chrissy, it was about her going to Eddie instead of him. It was his jealousy at the fact she went to the freak for help. This showcases how their relationship must have been very shallow and more for appearance than anything. I think Chrissy was stuck in it, which led to more of her suffering.
Chrissy didn’t feel comfortable telling (usually) the most important person in her life about what was happening to her, but she opened up to Eddie right away after meeting him for the first time (since Chrissy didn’t remember the middle school talent show till later). It shows their comfortability with each other, their chemistry. This line shows (even more) that Chrissy laughing and feeling safe around Eddie was something special. Their connection was very real and important.
4. “I just ran, and I left her there.”
As Eddie begins to make his escape from the bats, he stops and it goes into slow motion as he remembers about how he ran from Chrissy. A big aspect of Eddie’s character is how he runs when things get hard, but when he thinks of Chrissy and how she deserved better, he goes back and fights the bats to give everyone more time. Not being there for her, even in death, is his biggest regret. Although, I wish he knew that most people would have run out of that trailer way sooner than he did. He did what he could with what he knew at the time. The memory of Chrissy is what reminded him of why they’re doing all of this, to save the people that cannot save themselves. He went out as a hero in Chrissy’s memory.
He did it for her, all of it was for her.
And then the Upside Down took his life, too. Star crossed lovers.
#eddissy#eddie x chrissy#chrissy x eddie#eddie munson#chrissy cunningham#pls if anyone has noticed anything else with these two let me know#I love talking about them#stranger things#stranger things s4
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Thinking about ALL the stories used in the shed scene and how many there were and how not one was "when I first saw you I sensed you'd be great and I'd love you".
Mike doesn't say he knew Will would be a great friend. He said he already was one even before they met by the comfort he gave him. Joyce didn't say she knew when she first held him he'd be sweet, she told a story of him BEING sweet, by choice. Jonathan didn't say when he first saw him he knew they'd get along. He said that he loved sharing music with him. Mike didn't say that when they met, he knew Will would grow up to be heroic. He told a D&D story of when he WAS.
They complimented CHOICES Will made. Not even vaguely. I can't think of an adjective they used, or one they used without expanding on. No "you're so sweet", always a "BECAUSE".
But with El, it's "You're incredible", no elaboration, "I knew right then and there that I loved you", not reflective of anything she did.
Something about this and how it comes back to El's arc from the moment her first word in the series and then to Mike was
"No"
Choices. Being loved for your choices.
In the parallels to Brenner, he loves her for her state of being. He says it's more complicated than that, but he loves her for her powers, and occasionally what she "chooses" to do with them when in fight or flight, on instinct - when not given a choice.
And similarly, what El hears and what is written to purposefully resemble this and not the more personal sentiments of the past, is that she is loved for at best what she does when not given a choice and at worst nothing at all. The night they met, she was just standing there. The things he's named since - "El's saved the world twice" "You're a superhero" - have been fairly out of her control. What does she do between monsters?
Mike does love El. I believe that. But I believe that because he knows her favorite colors are yellow and purple. He knows she loves the flowers on the hills of Hawkins. Not because he thinks she's a superhero. See? They know how to show it more personally even in THIS couple. So they CHOSE not to tell stories of flowers and colors and silly outfits in those colors and bouquets of those flowers. Or music they listened to together while kissing last summer. Or anything they canonically know about each other. We know they know it, they've demonstrated knowledge of it, but they CHOSE to omit any personal details, any choices, from that speech.
Once, someone asked her her favorite colors for the first time and she CHOSE yellow and purple. But she escaped because it was her ONLY choice. And she ended up in those woods not by choice at all. And those are the only things listed in his speech.
I love the Duffers and their themes. Love cannot exist without autonomy.
#anti mileven#ily speech#the ily speech#elmike analysis#el hopper#mike brenner parallels#byler elmike contrasts#i trust the duffers#meaning theyve done it before so when they dont its conscious omission#stranger things#byler#themes
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Your posts and fics about Steve not being a pushover are some of my favorite in this fandom! I was wondering if you had any thoughts or headcanons about how Steve would deal with other members of the older party, instead of the younger party? This is more so in fanon than canon, but people mocking his intelligence or being surprised he's not a douche? Thanks!
Oh!! Thank you so much!!! That really means a lot! I'm always a little nervous when I make another post about Steve's boundaries and how fanon sometimes treats him, so it's a relief to hear people like them haha.
You raise an interesting question! And one I will admit I haven't thought about too much, actually. Most of my posts have been about Steve and Dustin, as that's what I've been thinking about lately, but you're so right that the older teens do it too. LOTS to think about. So fair disclaimer that I'm thinking and writing by the seat of my pants here.
I do just want to start off by saying that fanon is fun! Taking canon apart and disecting it, taking out its parts and figuring out how it works is fun! Diving deep and analysing and comparing what the writers intended vs what they ended up portraying vs what the fans thought. Media analysis baby! But fanon (like canon), can't cater to everyone. I'm just a Steve girlie with a lot of feelings. Not to say canon's exempt, of course. These ideas had to have come from somewhere. And I swear that each season gets a little bit worse at turning Steve into a verbal punching bag. A joke. He was supposed to be Nancy's jerk boyfriend who died, but everyone loved Joe Keery so much they kept him alive. And now they thank him by boiling his character down to a dumb jock who was an asshole. It's tiring.
I remember ages ago there was a post (that I cannot find for the life of me) that pointed out that in season 1 Steve says the word connoisseurs (in the scene with the camera smashing) but if they made him say that in season 4 they would have made Dustin make a comment how he didn't know Steve knew a word with that many syllables or something.
All this insulting Steve, all the canon jokes and fanon characterisation shitting on his interests and his personality and the fact that he decided to be a better person 3 years ago by the time S4 rolls around? Just feels like an excuse to shit on the jock. Revenge of the nerds. But it just makes the nerds look like bullies. Like the Duffers got bullied by jocks when they were kids and now they're making it everyone else's problem.
But to the actual point of this ask! The older party! Below the cut because this got long.
First up is Eddie! With canon Eddie a part of me doesn't think he would make fun of Steve's intelligence or call him a douche post season 4. A big part of Eddie's journey was him getting his whole world turned upside down (pun not intended). With the whole monsters thing, but also with his worldview! He thought he was confident and tough, but realised that he panicked when things got real (which I mean, fair, but that's not what we're talking about). And that he was making assumptions about people based on his own unfair biases! He canonically admits to Steve that he couldn't accept the fact that Steve is a Good Dude and the only reasons he thought he was a douche was that he has rich parents, was popular, and chicks love him. Nothing based on Steve's actions. Him turning around after all that to comment about Steve's intelligence, or bringing up his non existent assholery again just feels like a huge backslide. Doing both their characters a real disservice.
But you mentioned fanon more than canon, and there are absolutely fanon Eddie's out there who would insult Steve like that. And I gotta be honest - I don't think that Steve would take that lying down. Steve absolutely has an angry knee jerk reaction to things during this show. Back in S1, but also in S4 - when he says to Dustin that he was going to punch him so hard his teeth would fall back out. If Eddie, the new dude, decided he was going to be a jerk and insult Steve's intelligence? Steve would absolutely retort that it was fucking rich coming from the guy who failed senior year twice. Which is harsh, but I'd be angry too if I saved this guy's life and he turns around and calls me stupid for it. He'd call Eddie a hypocrite.
One thing I like about Steddie (both platonically, and romantically) is how they're on equal footing. The get along. They respect each other. Stop making Eddie a jerk to Steve for no good reason.
Eddie bringing up he thought Steve was a douche feels better than the other instances because he admits he was wrong!! Willingly! To Steve's face! But any times after? Steve would drop Eddie like a hot potato. He's not going to hang around with someone who's a dick to him for no reason. The fact that they went through the Upside Down together isn't going to make him suffer through it. Like, there's no way Steve hung out with Nancy and Jon after the breakup. No Upside Down monsters could make that less awkward.
Speaking of other instances - Robin. Stobin, my beloved. Sometimes I wonder if people actually like Steve, or if they just put up with him because him and Robin are a special deal. My thoughts on her are a little more all over the place, so bare with.
Is she a jerk to him in Season 3? Yes. But she's also a lonely, angry, teen, holding a grudge against him for no good reason. The only 2 things she says she hated him for were - he ate bagels messily in class, and that he didn't pay attention to the girl she had a crush on. Once again, nothing substantial.
But then they get tortured together, they become best friends. They get a job together again and he drives her to school. Robin canonically is the one to bring up what if they could combine into one person. She cares about Steve! She loves him so much she wants to merge with him!! And yet so much fanon has her acting like Steve is a bad rash she can't get rid of. Insulting him at every chance she gets. I get that friendships have gentle ribbing, teasing and jokes, because you know them and you know where their line in the sand is. But a lot of fanon feels like Robin rubbing salt into the wound. Taking it too far.
How many times does Steve have to apologise for being an asshole when he really wasn't that bad in the first place?
Steve reinforcing his boundaries with aggressive fanon Robin would be more chill than Eddie, I think. More like a conversation. Like, hey, you're my best friend and what you're saying is actually really hurting me? Could you please stop because it really doesn't feel like you want to be my friend since you won't stop insulting my intelligence? Robin isn't just an angry teen on her own anymore, she has a friend and the things she says has an effect. I can see him being more conservative with it than him telling Tommy & Carol that they're assholes. If he loses Robin, he goes back to his only friend being Dustin. But he'd still bring it up. He wouldn't just roll over and take it.
If she didn't listen when he talked to her like an adult? That's when he'd call her out like he did Tommy and Carol. If he can call out his best friends before, he'd do it again. It'd suck, but he needs to put himself first.
Nancy and Jon I'm still thinking about.
Jon doesn't like Steve, doesn't respect him, and canonically says mean things about Steve still, after Steve's done so much to atone, to save and help everyone. That mean joke he makes at the end of S4 about Steve being in charge? Oof.
A part of me can see Steve being like 'who cares what that guy thinks, I know myself'. But I'm afraid I just don't have a lot more on Jon. He's just not a character I'm a big fan of so I'm not as confident with his characterisation.
Nancy however? Nancy would hurt. Steve loved her, cared for her, she was there when he was trying to be better, when he was atoning. (I know that Steve says that Nancy was the bump on the head he needed, but he's wrong. He did it himself. But that's besides the point.). He went with her to the Hollands, he saved her little brother's life, him and all the party. With Billy and then in the tunnels. He opened up to her, she helped him with his college essays. She broke his heart and for her to turn around and comment on his intelligence? to call him a douche? would fucking hurt. Not at the same level as the S2 drunk bathroom bullshit convo, but it would hurt.
A part of me can see Steve doing the whole - pinch the bridge of your nose to hold back the tears and leave - thing like in S2 after the party. But a part of me could see Steve having had the time away from her to say something. But IDK. I'm not too sure on this. If she wasn't going to be mature about their breakup, about the things he told her, wasn't going to respect him and not insult him after all the things she's done? I'd say leave her behind, but I don't know if Steve would. He has a big heart. It might just be easier to take the bittersweet option and quietly let her go. Don't interact.
ANYWAY. OOF. Sorry this got so long, I was thinking and then my brain kind of ran away with me. Hopefully this was the sort of thing you were thinking? It was a fun thought experiment either way!!
#ask#anonymous#momo.txt#Stranger Things#Steve Harrington#Eddie Munson#Robin Buckley#Jonathan Byers#Nancy Wheeler#meta#headcanon#fandom wank (to be safe)#this just all came out of me in a flood#hopefully it makes sense?#it really feels like the duffers are pushing a Jock VS Nerd agenda#(on the side of the nerd)#and some fans are eating it up
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“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
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington angst#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#steve harrington smut#steve au#steve the hair harrington#steve harrington fic#steve harrington one shot#team steve#joe keery#king steve#steve harrington au#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington oneshot#Steve Harrington x fem!character
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Welcome to the final show
a/n: holy shit oh my god it's DONE😭😭i honestly can't believe it holy shit and yes i ended it on another cliffhanger!! if the duffer brothers can do it then so can i LMAO i really hope you guys enjoy this and are happy with how it ended cause honestly i am lol credit to the gif owner! <3
part one | part two | part three
You should be amazed right now. The way Eddie is killing it on the guitar is absolutely phenomenal but given the circumstances, you can't find it in yourself to enjoy the free show. You look over at Dustin feeling yourself ease up a bit when you see him nodding his head along to the music. Your eyes fall back onto the empty street in front of you and you can't help but worry about each and every one of your friends. Having this plan in action meant Max was currently under Vecna’s curse. It meant that Nancy, Steve, and Robin were stepping foot into the creel house.
Your hands tighten around the bat you're holding when you see Dustin look into his binoculars. They're coming, and the horrible gut feeling you have has yet to disappear. If anything, it's gotten worse.
“Guys!” Dustin shouts over the loud music. You and Eddie are quick to look his way making sure he was okay.
“Lockdown in t-minus thirty seconds!”
Eddie nods his head and your eyes fall back onto the sky when you hear the all too familiar screech of the bats. You don't usually pray, you don't even consider yourself a religious person but right now, in this very moment, you find yourself praying to God that everyone is okay and that they're going to be okay.
“T-minus 20!” Dustin shouts.
You close your eyes and take deep breaths trying to ease the nerves that are overpowering you. An adrenaline rush would be very appreciated right now.
“Ten seconds!”
Your eyes shoot open and it feels like a hundred things are happening all at once.
“Five!”
Five seconds left. How the fuck are there already five seconds left?! You find yourself shaking your head. No, no this isn't right. You guys shouldn't be here, none of you should be here.
“One!”
It's like your brain goes on autopilot. The three of you were quick to jump off of the roof and onto the truck that was parked on the side trailer.
“Move, move!” Eddie shouted.
“Let's go!” You shouted.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!” Dustin shouted while running as fast as he could to open the gate. The three of you fell into the entrance out of breath and terrified.
“Shut it, Eddie! Shut it!”
The gate is slammed shut and Eddie locks it before a bat throws itself against the gate trying to get to you all.
“Get inside, hurry!” you shouted while opening the trailer door. Once you saw everyone was inside you slammed the door shut and leaned against it with your eyes closed. The only thing that could be heard was everyone panting to catch their breath and the screeching from outside.
“Dude,” Dustin rasped out. “Most. Metal. EVER!” he shouted while jumping up and down with Eddie.
Their screams mixed with each other and even though you all could've died, you couldn't help but smile at the two boys letting loose. The three of you jump when the screeches get louder and you hear the bats start to crawl up in the ceiling. Your backs are all pressed against each other as you start to circle the room, then you're met with silence. The screeches and banging come to a halt and you feel Dustin and Eddie relax a bit, but you know better.
“Hey, dipshits!” Dustin shouts. “Give up that easy, huh?”
Eddie shushes him and you shake your head.
“Is that really necessary?!” Eddie whispered aggressively.
You hear banging on the ceiling return and your eyes shoot up to find the source.
“They're on the roof.” You said while looking up, your eyes following wherever the bat was crawling.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Dustin whispered.
The three of you walk forward following wherever the bat was, then you see it. There's a vent on the roof. Your heart drops to your stomach and you push Dustin behind you.
“They can't get through there, can they?”
As if answering his question the bat pushes the small vent cover out and screeches at you before trying to come in. Eddie and Dustin are quick to use their spears and stab away at the two bats that were fighting their way in through the small hole.
“Die! Die! DIE!”
You watch with wide eyes as Eddie and Dustin try their best to stop the small creatures trying to get in the trailer.
“Y/n! We could use your help here!” Dustin shouted.
Finally snapping out of it, you look around the room quickly and an idea pops into your head when you see one of the shields next to a small dining chair.
“Move, move, move!” you shouted while grabbing the shield and dragging the chair below the small vent. As soon as Eddie and Dustin see you step onto the chair they move the spears and watch as you slam the shield into the ceiling. You hold the shield there for a second before you drop your hands to your side and let out a sigh of relief when it stays put.
“Smart.” Dustin pants out. You look toward him and shake your head.
“You just had to torment them?!”
Eddie chuckles at Dustin who's now looking down at his feet.
“I thought we won.”
You jump down from the chair and grab the bat that you abandoned.
“We don't win till we're all together again. Let's just hope everyone else is doing okay too.”
-
Steve grunted as he landed on one foot trying his best to avoid the hive mind. Stealthy like a ninja Steve he thought to himself. He grabs onto the railing of the stairs where vines aren't wrapped around and makes his way to where vecna could be. He heard robin grunting and panting behind him and he was praying that she doesn't stumble on her own feet. Once the three of them were on top of the stairs they grabbed their weapons and got ready to walk in.
Before they could even take a step the house begins to shake and Steve is quick to reach out and grab Nancy. The three of them stumble around trying to stand still and not disturb the hive mind. Once the shaking stopped Steve looked over at Robin and Nancy, a sigh of relief leaving his lips when he saw they were both okay. Robin lets out a sigh and looks at Steve before she hears something slither against the floor. All eyes fall to the floor and they freeze when they see something wrap around Robin’s ankle.
Robin screams when she gets pulled to the floor and is held against the wall. Before she has time to process what's going on her wrists are tied and pinned down and she can't ignore the cold feeling that's on her neck.
“Steve!” she shouts out. “Nancy!”
Nancy is quick to hit the vines that are wrapping around Robin with the end of her shotgun, and soon Steve joins in and tries to slice them away from his best friend. He slams his axe into one of the tentacles and pulls it out getting ready to put it back, but instead, he feels himself getting pulled away. He turns around and sees his axe trying to get ripped away from his grasp. Steve tries his hardest to pull his axe back to him but he reluctantly lets go when he feels himself getting lifted into the air.
His hands fly to the tentacle that's wrapped around his neck and he swings his feet trying to kick away the vines that want to wrap themselves around him. A gasp leaves Nancy but she can't even wrap her head around what's happening because she falls to the floor fighting the tentacle that's trying to bring her the same fate her friends may be facing. Nancy tried several times to reach for the gun that fell out of her hands but it was no use. Soon she feels herself being pinned to the wall and watches in horror as her friends start gasping for air with her.
Steve has come close to death many times, but each time was different. He doesn't want to sound cocky but he was pretty positive that he'd make it out alive back then, but now? Now it's different. Now, Steve is fighting for his life trying to find a fresh breath of air. His mind suddenly thinks about you. You were always a fresh breath of air to Steve but he fucked all of that up now, there's no way you'd go near him even if you had a six-foot-long pole. He was supposed to fix everything between you two. He was planning on apologizing and slowly start to pick up the pieces of your semi-broken relationship, but now he can't.
He fights against the strength of the tentacles that are holding him down. If he could break out of them and rip off the ones that had held onto his neck, then he'll be fine. He could save Robin and Nancy and everyone could get the hell out of here and be fine, but he can't. Steve can't break out of the vines, he can't fix your relationship, and he can't breathe. He just hopes you're doing a lot better than he is right now.
-
“Are there any other vents?” Dustin asked while looking at Eddie.
“Shit,” he whispers before he's running to a corner of the trailer to open the door to one of the rooms. You and Dustin are quick to follow him and scream when multiple bats break through the small vent that was on the floor. Eddie shouts at you both to get back before he slams the door. You're all eyeing the door with caution, weapons ready in your hand for when they break through.
“That's not gonna hold!” You shouted.
“Let's go!” Dustin shouted while standing under the gate.
You crouch down and link your fingers together to give Dustin a small boost to climb up.
“Eddie go!”
Eddie shakes his head. His sight leaves the door for a second to look at you.
“I'll go after you! Go!”
You stand next to the makeshift rope for a second, dropping your bat onto the floor as your heart sinks into your stomach. He isn't coming. You think to yourself.
“Y/n c’mon! What are you waiting for?!” Dustin shouted up at you. You look up at the gate and back at Eddie.
“Promise me you're coming!”
“Of course, I'm coming! I'm not gonna die here!”
That's all you needed to hear before you start climbing up to Dustin, a grunt leaving your mouth when you fall face-first onto the mattress. You roll off of it and join Dustin to get ready for Eddie.
“Eddie c’mon!” he shouts. Eddie drops his things on the floor and grabs onto the sheets that are waiting for him. He starts to climb but stops halfway up. You start to shake your head slowly when you see him turn to look at the door the bats are behind.
“Eddie! C’mon, let's go!” Dustin shouts again.
He's not coming. He's not coming. He's not coming. This is the only thought running through your head right now.
“Eddie you're so close! Let's go!” Dustin is screaming as loud as he can, he knows Eddie can hear him, he's just not listening. Eddie falls back down onto the mattress and is looking up at you and Dustin with wide eyes.
I'm sorry. He wants to say, but his eyes are saying it for him. He looks back at the door and you see him leave for a split second. Before you can even register what you're doing, you grab onto the sheets only stopping when you feel Dustin grab onto your shirt.
“No! I am not losing the two most important people to me! You're staying here!”
You laugh. It's the only thing that you can do without showing how fucking scared you are right now.
“I’m telling Steve that Eddie and I are the two most important people to you.”
Then, you start to climb. Dustin is shouting for you to stay but you can't hear him. You see Eddie standing with the spear Erica and Lucas worked on and you start to climb faster when you realize that Eddie planned on cutting sheets. Eddie moves fast to cut them, but you move faster and fall through the gate just as the spear slices through the cloth.
“Are you two fucking insane?!” Dustin shouts at you two. You jump off the mattress and shove Eddie's chest.
“What the fuck is your problem?! Why the hell are you trying to sacrifice yourself?!”
The banging and scratching on the other side of the door are getting louder.
“There's a time and a place for questions but right now isn't a good time!” Eddie shouts.
“What the hell are you two doing?!” Dustin asks in a shaky voice. You look up at him and feel your heart break when you see tears falling from his eyes.
“Eddie, stop! Stop it, Eddie! What are you doing?! Tell me!” He begs as Eddie flips over the mattress that you landed on seconds ago. Eddie’s eyes lock on yours and it's like you two are having a conversation without saying anything at all. You grab the bat that you abandoned a while ago and Eddie grabs the shield.
“I'm buying more time.”
Eddie grabs your hand and starts to run to the front door of the trailer, Dustin’s protests being the last thing you hear before the bats overpower him. You and Eddie get onto the bikes that were left in his front yard and start pedaling to God knows where. Your legs feel like they're on fire and you're too scared to look back to see how far away you are from the bats. You're guessing they're not too far behind you because you can still hear their screeches as clear as day. Eddie glances behind you two and pedals even faster than before.
“Motherfucker.” you groaned before speeding up next to him.
“Come get me you sons of bitches!” he shouts.
God, he's just as bad as Dustin is. You let out a yelp when a bat swoops down at you trying to knock you over. You chuckle when it misses but stop when you see Eddie get knocked down. You stop pedaling, throw the bike down, and sprint over to him to help him up. Your hands are holding onto each other tightly as you both start printing away from the bats. You feel your arm get tugged on and you stop running to look back at Eddie.
“What are you doing?!” you pant out. “We need to run!”
Eddie looks back at the bats and shakes his head. “We'll never make it. We need to fight, no more running.”
You let go of his hand and grab your bat that was slung over your shoulder, lifting it to get ready to swing at whatever was coming your way.
“What happened to not being heroes?”
Eddie grabs his spear and shield. He's standing next to you and throws a smile your way before looking at the bats that were coming your way.
“Plans change.”
Eddie lifts his shield in front of him and wraps his arm around your waist to bring you close. Before you can ask what he’s doing the both of you are screaming as the shield blocks you from the bats that are flying toward you at full speed. Once they stop, you and Eddie are back to back watching as they swarm around you both.
“We're trapped,” Eddie said while looking around trying to find an opening.
You open your mouth to say something but stop when you see a bat flying toward you.
“Step back!” you shout as you swing at the bat. You try not to gag when you feel some blood splatter on you and swing at the bat again once it is on the floor. You and Eddie let out grunts and screams every time you hit a bat, your arms feel like they're on fire and you can't tell your left from your right because of all the quick spins you're doing.
“Come on!” Eddie shouts at the bats.
“What the fuck,” you grunt while hitting a bat. “Is up with you and Dustin tormenting these things?!”
Eddie turns in your direction to answer you but stops when he feels something wrap around his ankle and drag him to the floor.
“Shit!” you shout while swinging at the bat. Eddie kicks it away from him and stands back up hitting them away with the spear.
“Stupid,” hit. “Fucking,” hit. “Bats!” hit. You raise your bat high to hit the screeching animal but stop when you see an opening in the swarm. It's small, but if you time it right, you're pretty sure one of you can get through it.
Don't be a hero. You hear Steve's voice in your head.
3.
Don't be a hero.
2.
Don't be a hero. Please.
1.
You shove Eddie out of the circle the bats have made around you and smile when you see him tumble through the other side unharmed. You hear a screech from your left and get ready to swing when you feel your bat get yanked out of your hands. You turn around trying to find where it went but then you fall to the ground. You sit up and see a bat’s tail wrapped around your ankle. You kick at it with one foot but scream when a bat wraps itself around you, before you know it your arms are pinned down and you can hear Eddie screaming your name. You open your mouth to tell him to stop and go find the others but all that comes out of your mouth is a gasp.
You feel a tail wrap around your neck and tighten. You squirm around trying to break free from everything but stop when you feel a sharp pain on both of your sides.
You let out a cry and thrash around trying to shake them off of you.
“Eddie?! Y/n?!” Dustin shouted.
You were dying. You had to be, there was no way Dustin managed to get back into the upside down.
“Dustin!” Eddie grunted out. He took his spear out of the bat he hit and looked over at you.
“I'm gonna get him! You'll be okay, I'll be back!” Eddie knew you weren't listening, he's not sure why he told you where he was going. Maybe because he felt like you'd fight harder that way, but you didn't. You got tired, and you got tired fast. The grip on your neck was getting tighter by the minute and your vision was getting spotty. You tried your best to keep your eyes open but with every new wave of pain, you felt your eyes stay shut as you screamed in pain.
Then, it stopped. The bats that were flying around you fell to the ground, and the tight grips that were holding onto you finally loosened up. You gasp for air and cough a bit, wincing from the pain you felt on your sides. Quiet screams left your mouth as you pressed one hand on your side to place some pressure on your wound, but you were too tired to keep it there. Your breathing is rapid and unsteady as you look into the inter-dimensional sky, gasping when a flash of red appears. You fight to keep your eyes open trying not to scare Eddie for whenever he comes back, you figured he wouldn't appreciate another scaring memory to keep him awake at night.
“Five minutes,” you whisper to yourself. “Just…close ‘em for five minutes.”
-
Steve feels his eyes widen as he gasps for air and falls to the ground. He, Nancy, and Robin were all coughing as they gasped trying to catch their breaths while standing. They watched as the tentacles that were wrapped around them slithered down the stairs
“I don't believe in a higher power or divine intervention. But that was a miracle.” Robin panted out. The three of them stood tall as they turned around facing the door that Vecna was behind.
“Then we better not waste it.” Nancy said while taking a step forward.
“Phase four.” Steve said.
“Flambé.”
The three of them walk into the room, hands on their weapons ready for a fight. Vecna is in his “resting” state and the three of them stare up at him with determined eyes. Steve grabs a glass bottle from his bag and places the rag over the fire from the lighter he had stashed in his pocket. When he saw the rag was on fire he lifted his arm and threw the bottle at vecna, his hand going in front of his face to block the debris that came his way. Vecna let out a scream as his body went up in flames and fell to the ground, catching himself a bit as he looked up at the three of them.
Steve was thankful he was the first person to throw. He's frozen in his spot as vecna begins to stand up and slowly walk toward them. Robin flicks the lighter that's in her hand, lighting the rag as Steve did before and throwing it toward vecna. They watched from behind their hands as the bottle hit his arm and made him stumble back from them. Nancy acts fast and aims the shotgun at vecna and takes a step toward him. Vecna stands tall as he watches Nancy come forward and pull the trigger, shooting him in the arm. He grunts out in pain and steps back from the impact of the bullet as Nancy cocks her gun and aims for him again. The bullet flies into his stomach causing him to stumble back some more, she cocks the gun again and aims for his other shoulder.
When the bullet hits him he stumbles onto the window behind him, catching himself on the window sill he turns around to face Nancy. Nancy cocks her gun one more time as vecna stands tall and lets out a scream. Steve and Robin hold on tight to their weapons getting ready to help Nancy whenever she needs it. He begins to take some steps toward her as she aims the gun at him again. She pulls the trigger one last time and watches as the bullet hits him in his stomach once more and sends him flying out the window. The group runs toward the window and watch as his body hits the roof on the way down. They quickly run downstairs to check and make sure they actually beat vecna, but when they were outside his body was gone. They looked around them with wide eyes trying to find any clue as to where he went but they were greeted with nothing.
“No way.” Robin panted out. “There's…there's no way- Nance?”
Nancy was shaking her head. “I don't…I don't understand. What happened?!”
Then they heard the chimes. Their posture stiffens and they all look at each other silently questioning if they all heard that. Another chime sounded off and they all ran into the creel house stopping in front of the clock by the time of the fourth chime.
“Four chimes,” Robin said while looking back at Nancy and Steve.
“Max.” Nancy panted out.
Steve’s heart stopped as soon as the name left Nancy’s lips. Before Steve could process what happened, the house began to shake again. The three of them stumbled around trying to find something to hold onto for balance, they expected the shaking to stop soon but it never did. The world kept shaking and the chimes kept going. The three of them latched onto the railing, trying their best to stay steady but not even that helped. Eventually, the shaking stopped and it was only then that the three of them had the same thought running through their mind.
This might be a fight they can't win.
-
You're not sure how long your eyes were closed, you're guessing it was longer than you expected because you hear Eddie's feet come to a stop when he sees you on the floor.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
“Oh my god. Is- is she dead?!”
Your eyes shoot open at the sound of Dustin’s voice and a sigh of relief leaves their lips.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mumbles while sitting on his knees next to you. “We thought you were a goner.”
You gently shake your head and look over at him. “Gonna…gonna take more than bats eating my flesh to get rid of me.” you slurred out. Dustin feels tears begin to form and he limps his way over to you, helping Eddie as he lays your head on his lap.
“How the hell did Dustin get here?”
Dustin wipes his tears away and clears his throat.
“I uh, I jumped through the gate. Pretty sure I broke my ankle or something.”
You hum and reach out to grab his hand, forgetting that your hand was painted with your blood.
“‘S okay dusty. You're strong, y-you'll heal up fast.” you feel heavy, like there's weights on top of you, and you're too tired to take them off.
“Hey, hey keep your eyes open sweetheart,” Eddie says while grabbing your face to make you look at him.
“It's bad, isn't it?”
“No, no you're gonna be fine y/n! We just have to get you to the others!”
You shake your head and don't even bother to try and hold back your tears.
“I told you. I had a bad feeling about this.” you whimpered out.
“Hey, you're gonna be fine. We just have to get you up.” Eddie grunted out while getting ready to carry you.
You shake your head trying to stop him, the position he had you in making you more uncomfortable.
“Eddie, stop.”
“Y/n you gotta let him, please.”
“Ow- Eddie stop, it hurts,” you grunted out while pushing yourself away from him. You let out a sigh and shake your head.
“Just…just give me…a minute,” you mumbled while closing your eyes.
Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again hoping this is some kind of nightmare. Maybe if he thought hard enough, the scene in front of him would change and everything would be okay when he woke up, but this wasn't a dream. This was real life and you were dying right in front of him.
“Why the fuck did you sacrifice yourself?!” he whispered while pushing some hair out of your face.
“It's your year, Munson. Wasn't gonna let it go to waste.”
“That doesn't mean you-”
“It was either you or me.”
Dustin nudges your arm lightly.
“Hey, open your eyes.”
“‘M tired.” you slurred out while trying to open your eyes but were unsuccessful.
Eddie tries picking you up again, his heart falling into his stomach when you don't try fighting him like before. You're getting weaker, they both know it.
“Hey,” Eddie grunted out while standing to his feet with you in his arms. “We still have that concert. Don't even think about leaving me to go alone.”
Dustin unties the bandana that's around his head and places it on your side hoping it'll help even just a little bit.
“Steve.”
“What?” Dustin asks while leaning onto the spear for balance.
“Take Steve. H-he’s…he's gonna need a friend.”
“Steve has friends,” Eddie said while trying his best not to move you around as he made his way to the trailer quickly.
You shake your head. “Take him. Please.”
“Okay, I'll take him.”
“P-promise?”
Eddie sniffles and nods his head only to realize you can't see him cause you still have your eyes closed.
“I promise sweetheart.”
-
That was the last thing you remember before you were embraced by the cold quiet darkness that engulfed you. You're not sure how long you were out, but you certainly didn't expect to wake up in a hospital room with Nancy humming a soft tune. Your eyes flutter open and you squint from the bright white lights that were in your room.
“Ow…” you groan out while your hand falls to your sides. You look under the gown and see your midsection wrapped up in bandages.
“O-oh my god! You're alive!” Nancy exclaimed while setting down the book she was reading.
You wince from the sudden loudness and smile at her. “I hope so.”
“This is- holy shit. I'm gonna grab a nurse! I'll be back!”
She runs out of the room and into the hall leaving you alone in your hospital room. You look around the room smiling when you see balloons and a card that says get well soon, but that's not what catches your eye. On the small table beside you is a Tears for Fears t-shirt and on top of that is a polaroid of Eddie and Steve at the concert.
“I see you got your shirt.”
Your eyes quickly follow the voice that came from the door and you feel yourself smile when you see Steve leaning against the doorway.
“You're alive.” you breathed out.
“You're alive,” he said while walking toward the small chair Nancy was in earlier and taking a seat. “Jesus, I thought we lost you back there.”
You clear your throat and shake your head. Steve grabs the small cup of water near you and brings the straw to your mouth, smiling when he sees how fast you're drinking.
“How's Dustin? What about Eddie and Robin? Are they okay? Have you heard from Max and-”
Steve shushes you and places the back of his hand on your forehead.
“Easy there, tiger. You just woke up, take one step at a time.”
“I need to know if my friends are okay, especially Max, Lucas, and Erica.”
“Lucas and Erica are fine.”
Your blood runs cold. “And max?”
Steve avoids eye contact with you.
“Steve, how's max?”
“Let's just wait for the doctor to get here, okay?”
Tears start to form and your gaze falls to your hands that are resting in your lap.
“Oh.”
Steve grabs your hand and places a kiss on the back of it.
“Listen, there are some things we need to talk about.”
“Like what?” you whisper.
Steve sighs. “You know what.”
“I- are you really trying to talk about the fight right now?”
“No! I'm just…I’m saying we need to talk about it.”
“Oh my god, Steve there's more to life than us right now!”
“Not to me!” he said loudly. He lets out a deep sigh. “Not to me.”
You open your mouth to say something but stop when you hear a boom of thunder from outside. Your eyes look at the window and you furrow your brows as you watch the world outside get darker.
“Help me up,” you say while tossing the blankets off.
“What?”
“Help me up.”
Steve rushes to your side and helps you out of the bed.
“Jesus, where are you go…” he trails off when he helps you walk to the window and sees what you're seeing.
White things float in the air, something that can easily be mistaken for snow but it's not. You know in your soul that it's not snow, you've seen snow before but you've also seen this.
“Is that…?” Steve asks quietly.
Your breathing gets rapid and your heart is pounding out of your chest. No, no. It can't be. Your hand tightly holds Steve's shirt as you watch a small crowd gather in front of the hospital but then you see something worse.
Plants and trees that surround the hospital start dying before your very eyes, but that's not even the worst part. There's smoke. Huge black clouds of smoke start to fill the once bright sky of Hawkins and along with it are familiar flashes of red.
“Did you guys ever see Vecna’s dead body?”
“I-i don't know…”
You nod your head. You understand now. The “earthquakes”, Max not being okay, the all too familiar darkness, the white specs in the air. You knew, you knew that you lost the battle, and the war is just getting started.
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#stranger things imagine#stranger things x reader#stranger things blurb#stranger things angst#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington angst#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson angst
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I'd love to hear your thoughts on S1 of ST being a tragedy! No main character dies, so I never thought of it that way before
I mean, nobody has to die for a story to be a tragedy (at least, in the modern definition. I'm pretty sure '(almost) everybody dies' is a requirement of Greek tragedies and Renaissance revenge tragedies). But also, no main character dies in season one...if you take season one as part of a series. Which it wasn't originally conceived as.
I am not going looking for copies of the original pitch bible, because I am lazy, and also I only saw them floating around this webbed site. But the show changed a lot from the initial pitch (Joyce had a Long Island accent! Lucas' parents were divorcing! Murray was there and named Terry Ives! Most of what ended up in Hopper's character originally belonged to Mr. Clarke! The original pitch bible is fascinating). And part of the original pitch was a proposal for possible sequels.
The Duffers' proposal for a possible sequel was "It's ten years later, and Eleven is dead".
So that's the setup. Everything that came after season one was made up wholecloth after season one was a hit and people wanted more, but also people loved the adorable little psychic murder child (cue the Duffers shockedpikachu.jpg) and Netflix obviously recognised it would be a bad call to make a new season without her in it. So it makes sense to take season one as a unit, as a self-contained story on its own. You can also take it as part of a whole, but it makes sense to read it first as a complete story. Especially given the thematic drift of later seasons and the way they are...I'm just going to say it, each new season is very much added-on to what came before rather than being built on foundation that the earlier season(s) laid. It is very clear there was never a planned five-season story arc from the beginning. (This isn't necessarily always a bad thing, when it comes to sequels, but it does mean it makes sense to 'read' each season as its own thing.)
Okay, now that we've established all of that. Season one has one very clear goal, one very clear stake for the characters: save Will Byers from the Upside Down. (I like this. It makes the stakes both extremely high and extremely personal, it makes it very easy to understand each character's motivation, it also keeps the stakes grounded in reality. I like this a lot.) And by the end of the season, that goal is accomplished. So at first blush, you're right, season one doesn't look like a tragedy.
But when you start to unpack it a little, you start to see just how many important things were lost along the way. It's most glaringly obvious with Mike and El, with Nancy and Barb. The whole Wheeler family is fractured down the middle, with Mike and Nancy on one side and Ted, Karen, and Holly on the other, and Karen, who's been trying so hard the whole time to be part of her children's lives and understand what's going on with them, is aware of the ever-expanding gulf between them but will never be able to cross it, and will never fully know why. Hopper's finally managed to snatch a kid out of the jaws of death, save a woman he obviously cares about from the pain of losing a child, and Joyce has finally had someone believe her, support her, trust her. But it became blindingly obvious to me on my fourth rewatch that Hopper's plan, from the moment he went to leave the middle school gym, was always to trade El for Will. And that decision (and the fact that Joyce obviously understands that he did something to get the lab to let them go after Will, but she obviously doesn't dare press him on what) has broken her trust in him, and left him with what looks like an equally heavy burden of guilt as what he was carrying before. The lab stays open. The government gets away with everything. No one will ever know the true extent of the hurt they've caused.
And in the end, none of it even saved Will. He's back. He's alive. But he's spitting slugs in the sink. He's permanently marked by the Upside Down, and by trying to hide it from his family, he's putting a crack down the centre of them, as well. They're losing Will, just as surely as they had when they thought he was dead, just without him going anywhere.
And there's still a hole in the world.
The fragile bonds of community, the things that people share in common, the way catastrophe can bring people together and bring out the very best in them, are the major thematic threads woven through season one. Human connection is the only thing that can change what seems inevitable, the only thing that can bring back what's seemingly lost forever.
And it's still not enough to protect anyone from the random tragedy of the world.
The love was there. The love mattered. The love bent the entire course of the world around itself.
And it still wasn't quite enough.
If that's not a tragedy, then I don't know what is.
#stranger things#the pitch bible is also part of why I think they're gonna kill el for real at the end of s5#and that the final epilogue scene of s5 is going to be a callback to the eggos-in-the-woods scene#a) the show's ending so they don't HAVE to let her survive. and we all know the duffers love it when other people are upset#b) they've said themselves they're 'going back to season one'#c) netflix would absolutely cream their pants for an opportunity to update the nostalgia marketing for this show to the now-trendy nineties#d) and also would want to leave the door open for 'well MAYBE she survived you don't know that we're not going to resurrect this franchise!#one of many many many reasons why I'm not bothering to watch any more of this show#I'll stick happily with my s1-s2 duology and steal characters from other seasons thanks#it's so frustrating because it's so CLEAR in season one that the love MATTERS#that these people care about each other and that MATTERS#even though it's not enough.#and by season four it's just like. well what if we just kept introducing new characters so we can kill them. aren't you sad about it#like there are so many ways to write a tragedy well and 'kill everyone kind of indiscriminately' is not one of them#okay rant over. i am climbing off the cafeteria table
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i haven't watched dawson's creek but ever since writers made that tweet i've become more convinced that some of these parallels are actually worth looking into
i've seen people say pacey and steve are v similar and i have seen all the parallels regarding stancy and it does look like there's some actual connections
again i haven't watched the show, so i'll ask you for your (unbiased please) opinion; looking at the whole thing is there any way pacey and joey have some parallels with jancy as well? and when it comes to all the stancy parallels do you think writers making that tweet recently possibly alludes to them continuing with jacey/stancy agenda and actually giving stancy their endgame?
I mean, it is hard to say. These parallels might be completely a moot point and not have any correlation with what the Duffer brothers are doing. So I might be making these posts just for shits and giggles. lmao But we do know that the Duffer brothers were "obsessed" with DC. And then that tweet of the writers room with the Dawson/Pacey picture...Hmmm
Because the context of the love triangle in DC is completely different than the one in ST. There are a few little things here and there that could apply to j*ncy but when you look at the characters individually and the couple dynamics and their overall arc (individually and together) and growth, I feel fairly confident in saying Pacey=Steve, Joey=Nancy and Dawson=Jonathan. If I had to make a comparison, bc again a very different show than ST. Even hearing the showrunners commentary on why they ended up choosing Pacey over Dawson to end up with Joey in the end, is very stancy coded somehow? (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UaqTsKGxFzo)
Because the showrunner, from the beginning, had planned for her to end up with Dawson (Why? Dawson is universally hated.) But then things changed. Partly bc Joshua Jackson (Pacey) told them to reconsider, basically saying, look back on the journey, respect the journey, the only way is for it to be P/J. Pacey is also a very romantically centered character and the showrunners said that his arc had to be romantically fulfilled for him to have a satisfying ending. But he's always been in love with Joey and him ending up with someone that isn't her, would feel false. The showrunners also said that even though they had planned her and Dawson since the start, they actually couldn't envision them living day-to-day regular life together somehow by the time they were coming up to the series finale. + "P/j has the chemistry" "Joey becomes a lighter person around Pacey." etc....
Joey is also someone very ambitious, sarcastic, cynical (about love sometimes too), working hard to get into collage and get out of her small town....
Pacey is self deprecating, doesn't consider himself smart enough to make something of himself, often feels like the black sheep of the family...
Dawson is literally the worst and Jonathan despite obvious flaws is still 100x the man than that universally hated guy is an aspiring filmmaker. Has a pretentious air about him and often belittles others and their problems around him because the only problems he actually cares about are his own. Again, I cannot stress this enough Jonathan>>>>>>>>Dawson.
So it's interesting to see how their arc and ending are deemed satisfying in certain ways too (and honestly could be applied to N/S/J too):
Joey gets out her small town, becomes a talented editor and gets a partner that she loves and that fully loves her and moves in with her to the city. Career AND romantic life fulfilled
Dawson always dreamed of turning his passion into a profession and meeting Spielberg. He ends the show doing both. Career fulfillment
And Pacey, he only felt fully alive when he could be with and love the woman in his life. And he does. Romantically fulfilled.
In other words, this could all mean nothing and I have no fucking clue.
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thinking about the monologue... like obviously Mike is lying in a way, because he doesn't love her in a romantic way and when she asked him to say that it was in a romantic way... but imo he is not consciously lying... he is saying all of that because he thinks all of that... but it's not romantic love, it's platonic love!
He just doesn't get that yet, exactly... because he's like... 14? and feelings are confusing for him (and a lot of other people too irl lmao)
I highly doubt that the Duffers would make Mike consciously lie in a BIG way to El because not many people would forgive him for lying that much to a character that was presented as the main character of the show for years and is so deeply loved by the GA... and also that would create a very ugly moment in the relationship between El and Mike... idk I think they need the story to be satisfying for everybody, not only for us... and the GA already hates Mike kinda...
I think that would feel like a betrayal for a lot of people if Mike consciously lied to her like that and wasn't even shown to feel guilt on screen clearly for that after?
I think it's improbable that they would write it like that... it's possible obviously, but I think it's improbable...
I personally think it's much more probable that they just will show how Mike was confused but meant what he said, even if it wasn't in a romantic way exactly... or it will be a bit like the Jo and Laurie situation in Little women where Laurie is convinced that he loves Jo and all... but it's not the right love that he later feels for Amy and he says that the love that he feels for Amy "is different" because in reality what Laurie felt for Jo was not real romantic love, it was a mix of platonic fondness and idealization of Jo... and Jo didn't love him either even when she talks about how she's thinking about it because she wants to be loved and her mother tells her that's not the same as loving... and it's like El, she wants to be loved but what El really wanted from the start was familial love and she is going to get it in the end, she has already found her family...
Also the monologue can be read platonically and it does make perfect sense even more than romantically imo because: he is terrified of losing her, he did love her since he saw her because he felt the need to take care of her and even if he was clearly not "in love" with her since the start, he cared for her... taking care of her and being introduced to the world of the upside down and of superpowers... and being able to save his best friend DID change his life and he could feel like his life really started when he met her because of that...from that day he was special too by association with her basically and that's all that Mike wishes to be!!!
Also he does believe in her, he thinks she's strong and can do anything, and she's a superhero, he doesn't think she's a monster and was not avoiding saying the I love you because he was scared of her but because he was scared of losing her one day, saying the ily means getting closer in some ways and that means that if she leaves him it will definitely hurt more in his mind...
plus all the things he COULDN'T SAY (because being queer is not normal in the 80s and Will was right behind him lol...) like that he was not sure before hearing Will's speech in the van or that he thought he had feelings for Will (we’re friends...we’re friends) and was feeling confused about that too and was feeling weird (this past year has been weird) all the past months because of how much he missed Will (I feel like I lost you ) etc etc
like to me that is a linear way to continue the storyline and makes all the little pieces of the puzzle fit
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Dear Eddie
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Byers!Reader (she/her)
Warnings: angsty at first but happy ending, S4 Vol2 spoilers!
A/n: the duffer brothers made me mad with Vol 2 so i fixed it :)
“Dear Eddie,
It’s been almost a year since you’ve been gone. I remember being angry at first. I felt like you left be behind and I swear for a moment I hated you. I hated you for leaving me alone to deal with all of this by myself. It felt like you got the easy way out. You didn’t have to live in a world without the most important person in it.
I guess...I didn’t really understand until after the funeral. You weren’t ever very popular but especially not after Chrissy died. We all knew it wouldn’t be a big turn out but I guess we figured some people would show up and either protest or pretend to care like they did for Barb and Billy. But it was just us, Hellfire, Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Wayne. I actually got Will and Jonathan to come too, I think that you would have loved them. You never had it easy in Hawkins or at school- they never accepted you. I didn’t understand why you would die for the people who hated you until the funeral. I think that you wanted to prove yourself because no matter how much you pretended like you didn’t care I know that you did- just a little. You didn’t run, you proved yourself, if not to them then to yourself.
I don’t even know if you can hear this, you aren’t even in the grave, but I really hope you can. All I’ve been able to think about for the last few months is that I never got to tell you that I loved you. I should have told you at the boathouse, or at skull rock, or in the RV outside war zone. I think that you knew, but I wish I would have told you because in my head if you knew that I loved you, that I believed in you, then you wouldn’t have needed to prove yourself. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.
I’m sorry that I haven’t come to visit you more, and when I have I haven’t said very much. Whenever I come to visit all I can think of is how you’re still in there, how we had to leave you behind, how we had to bury an empty casket. Most of the time I just try to pretend like you’re still here. I had to come today though because tonight we’re going to fight him again. So either I’ll be back in a few days... or I’ll see you in hell.”
You folded up the sheet of paper and stuffed it into your back pocket with a sniffle. Picking up the handful of trash and dead flowers from the last time you visited him and stood to your feet.
“I love you Eddie.” You whispered as you dragged your fingertips across the cold stone before making your way back to the road. You threw everything away before getting into the passengers seat of the car that was waiting for you.
“You good?” Steve watched you as you shuffled around in your seat.
“Yeah Steve.” You sighed heavily and stared out the window. “I’m alright.”
“Okay then,” He said as he started the car. “Showtime.”
The fight against Vecna started at Victor Creels house before it led into the upside down. The team split into two groups: Team Vecna which consisted of Eleven, Hopper, Joyce, Murray, Mike, and Lucas then Team Demobats which was made up of you, Will, Jonathan, Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin. It was too hard to fight Vecna with the Demobats on you so the plan was to lure them elsewhere while the others took on Vecna. The whole thing gave you Deja vu.
So now here you were in the woods behind your house the six of you surrounding ‘Castle Byers’ like a fortress. Back to back with Dustin using your makeshift weapons to strike at anything that flew too close. There were hundreds of them, thousands, and just as you thought that maybe your plan wasn’t going to work- they stopped. The red sky started to fade into blue, the screeching of the bats morphed into birds chirping, and just like that you were in Hawkins again. The real Hawkins.
“Oh my god.” Robin huffed. “I though we were gonna die.”
“W-what happened?” Dustin looked around frantically.
“I think... I think whatever El did...” Will began.
“It worked!” Nancy shouted ecstatically. Now everyone was jumping up and down, hugging each other, crying. But you stood completely still.
“Y/n?” Jonathan put his hand on your arm to get your attention. “What’s wrong?”
Everyone was looking at you now, concern and confusion on their faces.
“Castle Byers” Is all that you could muster up. Will followed your eyeline to the makeshift fort and he understood now too.
“What about it?” Steve asked.
“I destroyed it last year.” Will muttered.
You turned fast on your feet running toward the house, everyone shouting and running after you.
“More running?” Robin groaned. “Where are we going?”
“Look here!” You pointed to a tree at the edge of the tree line between the woods and your house. In the trunk of the tree there were scores that marked you and your siblings heights over the years. “This tree fell down during a storm in 1983... the one during the search party for Will.”
“Wait a minute...” Nancy mumbled, all the pieces falling together in her head. “The upside down was stuck on November 6, 1983.-”
“Did we go back in time?” Dustin said with a huge smile. “That is so cool.”
Everyone was too stunned for a moment, unsure what to do next.
“Steve.” You finally piped up. “I need you to drive me somewhere.”
“Where do you need to go right now?-” Then it clicked in his head. “Oh my god. Oh my god! Okay, okay, lets go.” He shouted frantically.
“I have to go find Barb.” Nancy said in a somewhat stunned state.
You, Steve, Robin, and Dustin got into your moms station wagon while Nancy, Will and Jonathan took off towards the Holland’s in Jonathan's Ford. During the ride to Forrest Hills Trailer Park the clear blue sky turned grey and stormy just like the night that Will went missing. Your heart pounded in your chest, anxiety wracking through you as Steve pulled rapidly into the trailer park tires screeching. Even if he was there, what would you say?
“Stop!” You shouted suddenly. Steve hit the break quickly sending you and Dustin into the seats in front of you.
“Why am I stopping!” He shouted but you didn’t answer. You simply stepped out into the rain, feeling the overwhelming need to process everything by yourself for a moment.
“Should we go get her?” Dustin asked the others.
“Can you even imagine what she’s going through right now?” Robin questioned. “Give her a minute.”
You walked a little further into the trailer park, now situated between what would eventually be Max’s trailer and the Munson’s. Normally you would have thought about Max. How right now she might be in sunny California instead of a cold hospital bed. You didn’t get the chance to think any of that because when you looked at the Munson’s trailer you saw a figure passing by the window that led to Eddie’s bedroom. He was pacing back and forth past the window shuffling through a few cassettes in his hands. It was like the universe was taunting you. He was so close, so gorgeous, so alive. And he didn’t even know you. He knew your name and he knew that you were a junior in his senior English class but he didn’t know you. He wasn’t yours.
You couldn’t tell if you were crying or if it was just the rain, maybe both. All you had to do was knock on the door but you couldn’t do it. Instead you found yourself sitting at a park bench, in the rain, back facing the trailer.
For almost a year this was all that you wanted. And now here he was, he was in his first senior year, he had only started hellfire club a few months ago. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that The Last in Line, and The Trooper, Master of Puppets, and most of the music he loved hadn’t even come out yet.
Even if you did muster up the courage to knock on his door, what would you say? You knew that this was the year when he started to like you. Maybe you would just ask him out, pretend like everything was totally normal. Maybe you would tell him the truth. Hey Eddie, this is gonna sound crazy but I’m from the future and in the future we’re together and madly in love but you d-
“Why is Y/n Byers on a bench in the middle of a trailer park during a storm?” A voice boomed behind you. You turned around in your seat quickly, a surprised yelp leaving your mouth. There he was. Stood out in the middle of the rain, his hair, his shirt, his jeans getting absolutely soaked for a girl that he didn’t even know knew his name. He chuckled a little as he stared at you with a confused smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you-”
“Eddie, do you wanna go out with me sometime?” You cut him off, the words fell from your lips before you even got the chance to think about it. He chuckled a little, surely confused.
“How about first you come inside and get dried off.” He offered.
“Yeah,” You shuddered a little from the cold rain. “That sounds nice.”
a/n legend says steve, robin, and dustin are still in the car waiting. anyways please interact if you enjoyed :)
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie x reader#eddie stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things fic#stranger things 4#stranger things
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I'll try to be respectful. I'm a Mileven. I genuinely don't understand why you guys hate Mike's monologue. The only reason I can think of is because he said he loves El and not Will. It doesn't make sense in any other point of view.
YES it's bad that his only function in the show is being El's girlfriend, he deserves to be a layered character just like the other ones (but this is what he is, so...). YES it is also bad that Will doesn't have a love interest at the end of the show. I don't like Will as a character but yeah, he deserves to be in a relationship just like the other straight characters, it would be homophobic if he end up single. But destroy Mileven's development for him? That's really fucked up. Mike doesn't have good references in romance. His references are: his parents (they don't love each other) and his sister (her relationship with Steve). He is insecure in his relationship with Eleven because he's scared of losing her, he said that.
His insecurity: not being able to love her enough the way she deserves, like his dad with his mom and Nancy with Steve. He wants to make SURE he does love El.
The fear of losing her: saying he loves her and at the end of the day it's not true... The result >>> lose El.
The monologue is about it: Mike is not afraid anymore of losing El because this isn't an option. YES it was Will that helped him saying the monologue, but Will is literally his best friend, this is what friends do. El needed to hear every word that Mike said. She was able to save Max because her boyfriend was there for her. Also, Will is kind of done with Mike after the van scene, the band aid line tells a lot. His talk with Jonathan is also foreshadowing of Will moving on from Mike because Will saw how happy Mileven was and he could never have his sister's boyfriend (note: it's weird that you guys want him to date Mike when he's with El, it doesn't matter if he loved him first, he is now his brother in law, nothing will ever change that).
And El didn't talk with Mike because the Duffer brothers fucked up the end of the season after the 2 days later thing. Everyone knows that. I'm quite sure they will address Mike's monologue in season 5 and they will work as a team.
Thanks for the ask, I really appreciate it. I like to share our thoughts respectfully. I agree with you in some things and in others not, let me explain it.
I don't hate per se Mike's monologue. I just feel it was flat because they needed to talk more about their insecurities, like you comment above, it's clearly that this relationship bring them insecurities to both of them. And they need to solve them talking, and not in an improvised monologue in a risk situation. I am not one of the person that believes that Mike was lying in his monologue, at least not intentionally, sometimes he contradicted himself but it's because he was just saying what he thought El needed to hear.
The way I see it, Mil3ven had been built up for two seasons, and the last two seasons they're showing us how these two don't work together. Mike ditching his friends to be with El, and lying to them, also he trying to act more cool and mature with her, and stop playing games that makes him happy. And then in s4 we have this big conflict that Mike can't say ily, and how that bring insecurities to El, also she lied in her letters about how she was doing, and created a new persona. Also Mike made her feel like a monster because of how he reacted when she hit Angela, and he wasn't there to reassure her. Yes he said in his monologue that he loved her in her bad days, but he didn't show it. That's a problem. I don't think Mike stopped loving her in that moment, it's just that he couldn't show it nor give the love that El wanted in that moment.
Another big problem in their relationship, it's that Mike views her as a superhero, and that makes him insecure. I agree with you when you said that Mike is scared of losing her, that's true!! And it was one of the reasons that he couldn't say ily. But it's also true that he feels like he is just a random nerd, and he can't be at the same level as her, so he thinks, she deserves better than him. And this is related with his insecurity of not being needed by her. He always wants to protect and save his loved ones, but he knows that he can't bring that to El because she's the superhero, so he feels useless in that relationship.
I disagree that his insecurity is not loving her enough. He never implied that, it's just that he is scared of losing her if she realizes that she doesn't need him. And he thought if he said that words, that day would hurt more. (This is a misbelief and he will be proven wrong in s5 when El break up with him, and realize that it won't hurt as he had thought. We see a glimpse of this outcome at the end of the season when El isn't talking to him a lot and relying on him. Mike, the one who wants to be needed by her, doesn't look that affected by it.)
I completely disagree that El was able to save Max thanks to Mike. Actually with his monologue, El lost, Max died at first, and El was able to bring her back to life thanks to the memories that they had together, not for Mike's words. I don't think that Mike's monologue made her lose, but his words weren't enough. El's journey is about self-love and self-acceptance. Knowing that she can't be defined as monster nor superhero. Her worth doesn't come from her powers, nor her duty is to save the world. She needs to embrace that to became stronger, she doesn't need Mike's love.
I disagree, Will isn't moving on from Mike. The van scene wasn't the resolution of their conflict. Will's character arc is about saying the truth about his feelings, to complete his journey he has to be honest with Mike. And the painting has to be bring up again to clear things. And the scene with Jonathan is another scene that show how Will feels sad when he looks at them together, he is still yearning and pining for Mike. So, to me it says the opposite of what you said.
I mean it's okay if you find weird that Mike will date now El's brother, but I don't think El would mind tbh.
And the last part, sometimes I think that you're right. I have thought that too, that they just fucked up many character's arc. But if you see everything with context, it feels intentional. They didn't write a scene where they talk about the monologue, but neither a scene where El wake up, so we could see their emotional reunion. They did write that that they weren't talking a lot in the last two days. They wanted to show us that, so it's an important detail that we had to notice. And they also wrote Will confiding in Mike, just to show us the contrast with El shutting the door at his face (literally and metaphorically lmao).
And you said that they will work together in s5. They are showing us that the ones who will work together are Mike and Will, that's why they have an important conversation in the last episode. He reassured him that they will kill Vecna (of course it will be team work with the other characters and not just them, but this scene is a direct parallel with s2 when Mike never left his side). And of course the last shot where Mike and Will are together and El is in the front.
In conclusion, at the end of the season we see that Mike and Will are closer than they were in the beginning. And El and Mike aren't that close even if he already told her what she wanted to hear. So, no, that monologue wasn't the solution to their conflict.
Edit: I forgot to tell you that Mike isn’t written just as a love interest, he is more nuanced. Like Will said in the van scene, Mike is the leader, the one who inspire the party, and I am confident that we will see this role again in s5.
#byler#long answer#thanks for the ask!!#I don't know if you saw my post about wanting to discuss our different point of views or it was just a coincidence
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Good day or night everyone!
I really don't understand how people can think that Midleven can be canon when they lose on all fronts.
1. Love actors
Yes, actors do not always need to be listened to, because they are told that they must answer certain questions and it is very important for Duffers that unnecessary information does not leak into the network, but by their reaction you can see how they feel about certain pairings. I think you've all seen those interviews, but the conversation where they were talking about how the ending of Stranger Things was similar to the ending of Shitts Creek. Let me remind you that it ended with the wedding of a same-sex couple. I advise you to look at your leisure) The faces of David and Finn when they said that Will wants to spend his life with Mike in the basement playing D&D. Also, the serious attitude of other actors towards the byler, they don’t joke, they don’t condemn, they don’t laugh, but they say that their love is beautiful and all that. By the way, it’s very strange that they don’t talk about them a lot, that is, it would be it is logical to mention the other side of the triangle and say that Will's feelings are unrequited, but Mike will still be on his side and all that, instead we get Finn's words that Mike will accept this and understand (though he will understand himself too)).
2. Marketing
Things have recently been released with a picture logo on them, would they release a collection with a picture that is not needed and will not matter in the Mike and Will arc, and also if the feelings are unrequited and our boy is rejected. Seriously? This is very strange, given the type of thinking of the Duffers and their love of logic in everything.
3. The goals of the characters
For El, the goal of her entire journey was to find family and friends, she began dating someone before she knew what relationships and romantic love were. Her ideas about love are made up of soap operas that she watched on TV and thought that this is how love should look, and then she started projecting it onto Mike and nothing good came of it.
For Mike, acceptance was the goal. That is, starting from the end of season 2, Michael realized that he was in love with Will (his view of the ball and the state Dustin was also in because of Lucas and Max). Due to the homophobia that was developed in the 80s, Michael was unable to accept his feelings in season 3, but he had to do it at the very end, when El kissed him and it was clear that he did not feel anything and was in confusion.
Will's goal was to forgive himself. He was able to get used to and accept what he tried to reject all the time, but his arch in is not yet closed and will not be until Mike's confession.
4. Tips of the creators.
There are a lot of them, the entire twitter dedicated to the series consists of them, but I want to show my favorite tweet:
5. Lies and everything else
We all know about the lies in Michael's monologue, because El did not find any memories on any of his words, except for a T-shirt, and it was disgusting and painful for her to hear Mike's "confession", because it was Will who suggested this to him. She heard it. She's not stupid. You know, it hurts so much when you try to knock out a declaration of love for 3 years, and another person succeeds at the snap of his fingers. In an instant, he gets what was not available to you.
Will and Michael used the name El to talk about each other because, Mike, everyone knows she's special, you're not the first to discover this, but the first to see things in Will that you didn't see in anyone else. He's special to you, right? Some of his words were really about El, but such a lie is immediately visible, because it refutes what was in the series)
And this is the minimum that I can call, midlevel is not created to be canon, because they do not have the foundation that they gave to Will and Mike, they are the prototype of typical lovers who think that their feelings are not mutual.
Most likely it turned out to be confusion, but these are just my thoughts on this matter
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Hi! this is out of my comfort zone really by doing this, but I needed to say something and you're the first account i thought couple help! but i've been a confident mileven shipper for years now. i've been able to handle backlash through reason, i've never worried about b*lers, let alone paid them much attention. but after volume two, everything shifted. between the hate mike got at the start for merely voicing the love he's had for the girl he's always loved, to the 180 of people strongly believing he's gay for Will again, it's just incredible. it's inescapable. im mostly observing twitter, which i'd say was a reasonably good place for milevens. it's now turned into a whole other world. infiltrated by kids who claim to want rep, which i fully support as a queer person myself, but who do it in exchange for misogyny and ableism. people who claim to love el yet want her heartbroken. and while this post is a rant, it's also one of concern, and id love to hear from someone as reasonable as you. im firm in my beliefs and my love for mileven, but the duffers have always loved their fan service, and this is unlike anything i've seen since fandoms like Sherlock or Supernatural. Essentially, my question is, do you think the duffers will give into this fan service? clearly the reasonable answer would be no, you don't ruin a 4 season build up like mileven for the sake of fan service. But id be lying if I said the sudden influx of B*ler shippers and the likes they've been getting isn't shocking. So what I'm trying to say is, as Mileven shippers, do you think we need to be worried for season 5? I can't believe im evensaying this; i wouldn't have thought it feasible even a year ago, but the public response is almost intimidating. All the best, and sorry for this dump!
Hey! I’m so happy that you decided to reach out despite it being outside your comfort zone, and I’m touched that you decided to ask me. No need to apologise whatsoever <3
Twitter is fun in that there are some really adamant Mileven defenders on there, but it’s also a deranged swirling cesspit of truly startling volatility, so yes, I understand why you’d be intimidated seeing what goes on over there. Especially given the absolute confidence that hardcore B*lers apparently have in an eventual endgame! It’s astounding to me, how much faith they have. I understand why this vehemence from so many people - making tweets that garner tens of thousands of likes - could make anyone’s faith waver, especially given the Duffers’ history of fan service.
But, I’m still not worried. I’ve never been worried. I know that you’re not really worried yourself, but I understand needing a second person to say that they’re not worried, either. And I’m not! It doesn’t matter how popular that ship becomes, the Duffers are going to stick to their guns when it comes to Mileven. They wrote Mike's monologue themselves. They said in a recent interview that they already know how the show ends and they aren’t going to be influenced by other opinions - they also said “we can’t please everyone”. So that’s a precisely comforting quote for your worries, whether or not it directly applies to By*ler shippers (I wouldn’t be surprised if it did).
If you need some more assurance, just consider where Season 4 left off, and the fact that Season 5 is the last season. In these final eight or nine episodes, the characters are going to be very busy trying to save the world. There isn’t going to be time across those episodes to not only break Mileven up, but also to suddenly have Mike go through a complete and utter change of character, come out as queer, and confess out of nowhere to wanting to be with Will.
It would be very bad story telling, and the Duffers are literally better than that. Their canon romantic relationships are all excellently written - Mileven, Lumax, Jopper and Jancy are all so, so good. So carefully developed, with such good payoffs. If B*ler was going to happen, we would know about it by now. It would not be hidden in subtext - see Vickie and Robin, and Will’s sexuality, which have all been explicitly addressed.
When it comes to our Season 5 endgame, Mileven shippers have one enemy and it’s the possibility of the death trope.
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