#interesting how he’s with lucas and dustin on the first picture yet there’s no smile

[prfctmxxnlight]

“mike wheeler never smiles for pictures”

interesting

very interesting…

#interesting how he’s with lucas and dustin on the first picture yet there’s no smile #also interesting that he’s always paired next to will #very interesting indeed #mike wheeler #mike wheeler loves will byers #byler #stranger things

[royal-they]

okay so personal headcanon on why mike cut his hair, i personally think it's his way of handling - or not handling - his grief over eddie munson.

we know already that eddie inspired mike and dustin a lot to embrace their nerdier side. it also is clear that he got mike interested in alt culture quite a bit. which i think is really sweet honestly.

i also personally like the headcanon that many people had when volume one first came out that mike had a bit of a crush on eddie. bc it's honestly not that out there lmao.

hes completely infatuated. like everyone else in hellfire was laughing and agreeing with eddie and mikes just like smiling like an idiot the whole time. not a word is getting into his head. (similarly to the van scene)

basically, my headcanon is this. okay so mikes look in season four is him being inspired by eddie. okay, but what if mike had a tiny crush on eddie? what if this is not a, youre cool i want to look like you but a hey youre cool and i want you. which i feel like as a queer person - whos also trans - doesn't feel that out there at all.

mikes also VERY repressed, even taking his possible queerness out of the picture. never once is his trauma really brought up outside of maybe like season two? maybe? kind of?? like this kids seen supernatural monsters, tons of people dying, and being possessed and yeah he isn't able to talk about it bc of the government but like he also never talks about it with the other characters who already know about everything? lots of characters don't but i feel like mike especially doesn't talk about it. he just immediately starts trying to be el's boyfriend. or what he thinks el's boyfriend would be i guess is a better way to put it. bc as far as el's concerned i think he's doing a shit job.

so seeing dustin and mike react so differently is kinda not surprising at all. dustin really holds on to the memory of eddie, almost obsessively. like he's still walking around in his hellfire shirt that is literally ripped. dustin also literally saw eddie die so there's also that. (i kind of want to see lucas dustin and mike fight about this in season five ngl)

it's been said that there's going to be some sort of large time jump and it's not really clear yet how far that time jump is? so maybe mike just moved on faster, but honestly i find that really fucking hard to believe seeing how he handled el and wills "deaths."

so anyway, my point is. mike with short hair back to a style similar to his season 1/2 style? not very surprising. when you have trauma you tend to stay very fixated on the event. dustin saw eddie die, so he's stuck on that, even in how he dresses.

mike is worried about everyone leaving him constantly so someone that he looked up to dying who seemed invincible is going to fuck him up. he really hates growing up which is brought up a lot. so him kind of going back to a time before everything went to shit, when he was a lot younger isn't to crazy. they're both coping differently.

edit: mike also maybe realized, hmm this isn't making me feel more confident but i still like the way eddie looked like a lot- wait nope time to repress this. hahaha so straight i have a girlfriend yes very straight of me did you know i am straight

anyway. this isn't the most coherent theory/head canon but it's what i've been thinking about for the past week.

#byler #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #stranger things #im ill so forgive me if this makes no sense lmao

[kaypeace21]

The Duffers use of music proves byler is endgame (music-analysis)

The Duffers in an interview said that they choose songs for the show very deliberately -sometimes spending weeks on Spotify to find just the right song to convey an emotion/context of a scene. Songs in all seasons (but especially in s3) were used to show how characters are feeling- or just an action they’re about to commit.

For instance, Karen when she’s about to meet Billy at the motel-  feels apprehensive and wants to get out of it (since it would hurt her family) and she was just flirting with Billy as a way to escape her own issues, about her life. She never flirted with Billy for the end-goal of “getting him.”

They even use “cat’s in the cradle’ which could be shown as a way to illustrate the inappropriate age disparity between Billy/Karen.

Other examples-

Right before the boys run away from the lingerie store- the lyrics are literally “I just walk away” XD

Jim when he looks at Joyce- the lyrics are “she’s got you.” ( cause he’s in love with her).

-And Jim after getting Mike to not come over to see El, (by yelling at him) sings…

Joyce after she sees Bob’s drawing fall to the ground and then crouches to pick it up.

And songs also illustrates how Nancy feels about her job (with her sexist co-workers). As the morose lyrics of “I’ll be working here forever” play as it zooms in on Hawkins post -as Nancy rushes inside.

As well as  her excitement -about investigating a new case. As Jancy leaves and the very on the nose song  of “get up and go” begins -as they get into the car.

Billy when he pulls out chloroform (from a perfume bottle).

El after dumping Mike (and smiling about it) XD

So all the byler stuff I’m about to mention proves byler is endgame.

So yes, the fact that the very first lyrics that play when we see mileven kiss for the first time  is “Just a little uncertainty can bring you down”- reflects that (just like the others, the song reflects Mike’s true feelings). The song is from the album “boy in the box (cough closet)”.

And we know this is how Mike (not El) feels about their relationship because he begins to sing the song right after this lyric. It mirrors how when Will danced with a girl (who owned a rainbow hair clip) the lyrics were “every smile you fake.”

Mike continues “And nobody wants to know you now. And nobody wants to show you how.So if you’re lost and on your own. You can never surrender.” He fears that if he isn’t straight everyone he cares about will abandon him, and that he’d be lost and the only one ‘like this’ -all alone.But he can’t ‘surrender’ the false-idea of being in love with El (out of fear).  El even says to “stop” and tries to cover his mouth to prevent him from singing and Mike asks “What you don’t like it?” and El just says “No!”.

Which may be a purposeful juxtaposition to how Robin came out- and instead both Robin and Steve sang off-tune happily together- while El covers Mike’s mouth and tells him to stop singing. When Mileven kiss at the end of the season the song ‘the first i love you’ plays. The same song that plays when Robin comes out to steve (to illustrate the juxtaposition).

What’s interesting is ( right before the mileven kiss) we see a zoom in shot of a picture of Will and a rainbow . Like that’s Will! He has light brown hair (not black) and Will is the only one associated with fire and has drawn himself with fire in the past.

And since El has Mike related-stuff all over her room, and barely knows Will. Mike probably lied saying it was supposed to be him- which is why it’s above her bed.And we also see that based on it’s placement Mike is facing the Will drawing so he can see it  (cause we see El in front of the poster and Mike sitting opposite of her during the 1st kiss) . 

And during this transition the lyrics read “cause just a little more time could open closing doors” Which could be hinting at byler becoming a thing later - when (after some ‘time’) they both become ready to actually admit their feelings/sexuality - despite the other probably doubting the other has feelings for them.

I mean we even see an illustration of Will & the text of the name ‘Mike’ written out next to a rainbow-heart. And 2 other drawings next to the rainbow heart drawing (that are covered in red hearts). XD

(*for those who can’t see Mike written out in the transitioned will/mike pic)

However, what’s interesting though is the one other things he took down from his wall. In S1 Mike (before he even met El)  has a heart sign, with a red heart being propelled by a rainbow. Then in s3 it's gone from his wall when he dates El (cause he's trying to repress the fact he's gay). Why El has a drawing that says Mike (with a heart also propelled by a rainbow.) He can't use El to escape the truth. His rainbow follows him everywhere even when he tries to hide it (from his basement wall and himself) -  and when kissing El!Aka he tries to take it down (like he pretends to be straight). However, in the first ep of s3 when Mike is making-out with El (trying to project his feelings for Will on to her by looking at the Will drawing while kissing) we see a emergence of the heart being propelled by a rainbow (in El’s room) as a drawing.  signifying Mike participating in compulsory-heterosexuality,  and the fact no matter how hard he tries- he’s not straight!

Also El’s reaction to the song - hints that this isn’t actually her mixtape. But one that Mike made for her. or Will made for Mike (since jon makes mixtapes and prob taught him how- Will in s3 gave a mixtape to Dustin so it would not surprise me if he gave one to Mike).

So similar to the drawing, the mixtape hints at byler’s feelings

  ‘I can’t fight this feeling’ (which mileven makes out to later). Actually indicates Mike fighting his feelings for Will. And how he’s been trying to fight his feelings for Will, all season.

Besides the lyrics themselves- the singer literally went on record about the song’s meaning . Which is about a boy being in love/pinning over his friend of many years and never thinking he had a chance at being with them (and being afraid he’d ruin the relationship if he confessed)- but slowly thinking he could  be with them (and that they might feel the same way about him) . And in the song the 2 people AREN’T even together yet!

“Oh, I can’t fight this feeling any longer. And yet I’m still afraid to let it flow. What started out this friendship has grown stronger, I only wish I had the strength to let it show. I tell myself that I can’t hold out forever .I said there is no reason for my fear ‘Cause I feel so secure when we’re together ‘.You give my life direction. You make everything so clear. And even as I wander I’m keeping you in sight. You’re a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter’s night. And I’m getting closer than I ever thought I might”

This makes no sense for mileven who kissed after knowing each other for a week and who didn’t have a long established friendship, beforehand. And who also are already together (and not afraid to express their ‘romantic feelings’ for each other).

Then in s2, mileven dance to ‘every breath you take’ a break up song about a stalker ex. The writer of the song also has said many times “it’s NOT a love song.” The duffers obviously knew that. Lumax also danced to it and Lucas was called a ‘stalker’. El also stalked Mike in s2 (all that stuff milevens found romantic- El watching him without him knowing. Mike says he was not ok with it in s3). And in s3 he said not to do that and she just says ‘i make my own rules’. Not to mention Nancy teaching Dustin how to dance is a direct parallel to Mike teaching El. 

Mike also tries to act like Dustin, and  forces Will to dance with a girl (who’s wearing a rainbow hair clip). Trying to be a good sport like Dustin is about lumax. And right after this we see Dustin look sad about Max/Lucas dancing and Mike (next to Dustin) look sadly at Will/girl dancing in the same exact frame as Max/Lucas. As they switch between these 2 shots to emphasize their sadness/jealousy.Then they both sit down (mirroring each other) on the verge of tears before Nancy and El show up to comfort them and distract them.  As El once again (presumably) wears Nancy dress. Mike “you cant go with your sister… i mean you can but it’d be really weird.”

Also in regards to Will- when I heard they were going to have the song ‘Never ending story’ I wondered if they were going to re-contextualize one line in particular to be a hint at Will’s queerness. And shock- they did it! XD

The lyric is “ Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds and there upon a rainbow Is the answer to a never ending story. ”

And of course Will is the one with a secret- that is ‘rainbow’ related. And they pan to him during the “secrets” line. I think Will is less in the denial phase than Mike is and already knows he’s gay and in love with him.

And this wasn’t a coincidence because when Lumax makes fun of Dustin they sing the lyrics incorrectly as  “The mirror of your dreams. Rhymes that keep their secrets…” And it pans to Will AGAIN!

We see Will obscured in shadows to represent he’s “hiding”.

And then he appears in the light, looking sadly at D&D as the lyrics , “rhymes that keep their secrets” is sang (again).

And we see he’s specifically looking at the d&d game sadly and about to give it away- since they zoom in on the game title (before he places it in the “donation” box). 

Because the d&d game is used to reflect his desires (like a “mirror”) . It’s the ‘mirror of his dreams’- to be with Mike. Cue Mike saying “ what did you think,really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? We were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?” And poor Will  just responding with “Yeah, I guess I did. I really did.”

This lyric about the mirror is NOT in the original song. It was used once again to establish D&D as a romantic symbol for byler. Just like how they zoomed in on d&d right before the romantic “crazy together” speech.

Mike in s3 says “Blank makes you crazy… y’know like the word (love).” Flo in s1 says “ Only love makes you that crazy and that stupid.” Cue Will calling himself “stupid” 4 times (after Mike says they won’t be together playing games for the rest of their lives-and ripping up the Halloween pic , out of heart-break).

(x)

So again right after we see the zoom-in of the game (another romantically coded scene happens after). Will puts the game in the ‘donation’ pile - and Mike isn’t happy about it.

Mike: “WHOA, dude, that’s the donation box.”

Will: “ I know, I’ll just use yours,  when I come back. (pause) if WE still want to play?”

( translation: “I love and want to be with you but I’m not going to pursue you and get my heart broken again. Because even if I feel like you love me… I can’t trust my own instincts about how you truly feel anymore. If you want to play this ‘game of love’  with me you have to initiate/participate in the game properly.” Mike when fixated on El even says it was a cool campaign but  “we just weren’t in the mood right now.” and  also says to Will “c’mon, let’s play for real”  but Will storms off (not thinking that what Mike said was genuine).  

Mike : “Yeah, but what if you want to join another party?”

(*cough, the other ‘species’/girls, or just someone else: girl, guy or otherwise)

Will: “Not possible.”

(Will will always love Mike, and  admits he wants to be with him for the rest of his life).

(x)

And we actually see the Hopper’s Monologue (where Mike is shown)- reflects what Mike said to Will earlier. Mike does want to love Will but he’s just scared of changing their relationship into something romantic- and even though a part of him doesn’t want things to change, he’s still afraid that Will will move on from him as they both get older. “I’ve been feeling distant from you. Like you’re pulling away from me or something” (Will does this both figuratively/literally). I miss playing board games every night (d &d)”. “But I know you’re getting older, growing, changing. And I guess, if I’m being really honest, that’s what scares me. I don’t want things to change.”

Also the lyric “ Rhymes that keep their secrets will unfold behind the clouds and there upon a rainbow- is the answer to a never ending story. ”

One way or another Will’s secret (of being queer and/or being in love with Mike) will eventually come out. And that’s the answer to this “never ending story” between Will & Mike. Their love story. I mean who else is associated with Will’s story and has loads of rainbow symbolism - and has rainbow symbolism that  specifically connects them to Will?

*Lol don’t even get me started  on analyzing how in s1 when Mike thinks Will is dead- Mike hugs his mom and the lyrics are “and we kiss as though nothing could fall. And the shame.” Which is queer coded and written by David Bowie- and during the s2 “freak” speech- Will even says he’d rather be friends with Bowie than Kenny Roggers.

People need to realize no one is a bigger shipper of byler- than the Duffer brothers themselves! XD

#byler #byeler

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Unbelievable || Dustin H. x Fem!Reader

Requested: @im-eating-rn Hi!hello!May I request? A little Dustin x reader where nobody of Dustin's friends believe that he got a girlfriend who goes to a different school but he actually does? they always meet in the arcade? And then maybe Dustin finally set up a meet up with his friends and his little gf at a party? And everybody is start asking since when and how? And Dustin's mother (bless her sweet soul I love her) is just like "oh yeah they are together since idk... hi y/n sweetheart!" I just love them.

A//N: this prompt is absolutely freaking adorable and I love it but I apologize in advance if any of the interactions between reader and Dustin seem forced. I'm so used to writing the reader as Dustin's sibling so this was tricky to write😂

"Come on, Dustin! I bet they're just teasing you. They're your friends, I'm sure they believe you," You rubbed your boyfriend's back soothingly, trying to comfort him.

"You'd think so," he sighed, putting his head in his hands. "But I know those assholes and I can tell when they're teasing and this is not it."

You continued tracing circles in his back, falling silent but still offering your support.

He took his head out of his hands and smiled, looking at you.

"Then again, I can't say I blame them."

"What do you mean, hun?" You asked, brow furrowed.

"You are pretty unbelievable"

You blushed furiously and you felt your chest grow warm.

"Oh, Dustin." You smiled brightly and leaned in giving him a tender kiss.

The two of you pulled away, and you intertwined your fingers with his and rested your head on his shoulder.

"So why don't we set something up?" You said simply. "A little get together at your house. You can invite your friends over. And I can swing by and meet them. Besides some homework I gotta get done, I'm free Friday. What do you say?"

He looked at you adoringly, as usual, and smiled.

"That sounds perfect. Have I ever told you how awesome you are?"

Your face scrunched up in a playful manner, you peered up at him. "Not today, you haven't."

Your head moved with his shoulders as he chuckled. "You are unbelievably awesome."

You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you smiled as your eyes focused on a random spot on the wall.

"I can't wait for you to meet them" he said contently. "And for you to wipe those smug smiles off their faces."

You giggled picturing the sight. You couldn't wait either.

+++

"No offence Dustin, but do you want to head to the arcade or something?" Will asked timidly. "There's not exactly a lot to do here,"

Dustin, whose eyes kept flickering to the door, something his friends picked up on, brushed off the comment.

"Uh yeah, maybe later though" his voice sounded distant, he was distracted.

"Dude, what is up with you?" Lucas asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," Dustin mumbled.

He shook his head briefly, taking his eyes off the front door and stood up. "I'm gonna get something to drink, does anyone want anything? I've got cola,"

"I'm good," Mike shrugged.

"Same here," Lucas said.

"I'll have a cola," Will said.

Dustin nodded and retreated to the kitchen, leaving the three boys who looked at one another.

"Something's not right, man." Lucas whispered.

"Yeah something's definitely up," Will said.

The boys fell silent when they heard footsteps approaching and sure enough Dustin emerged holding two cans of cola. He handed the can to Will who mumbled a thanks.

Dustin made his way to the couch and just before he could sit, the doorbell rang. He jumped up quickly and scrambled to the door, his friends sharing weary looks.

"I think you guys will find my guest very interesting." He said smugly, over his shoulder.

He grasped the doorknob and swung the door open, Dustin spoke confidently. "Hello, my lo-"

In front of him stood a very confused mailman holding a package.

Lucas and Mike stifled their laughter and Will was having difficulties keeping the amused grin off his face. He hid behind his drink and took a sip.

"Um, package for Mrs. Henderson?"

"Great, thanks, okay bye." Dustin took the package swiftly and reached for the door to close it but the man spoke up.

"Sir, you have to sign for it."

Letting out a weak chuckle, Dustin quickly grabbed the clipboard and scribbled his signature with the attached pen on a chain, and shoved the clipboard back into the man's hands and hurriedly shut the door.

Sighing, he leaned against the door, thankful that the exchange was over with. But when he saw the peculiar look on his friends faces he knew what was coming.

"Just save it alright?" He grumbled.

He trudged back to the couch and landed on the cushions and let himself sink into the pillows.

"You were saying?" Lucas quipped, quirking an eyebrow and smirking.

"Shut it, Sinclair."

Lucas chuckled and Mike got up and took a seat next Dustin on the couch.

"You wanna tell us what all that was all about?" He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.

Before he could answer, a brief series of rhythmic and gentle knocks came from the front door.

Dustin, who recognized your pattern of knocks - something he picked up on somewhere along the way - and he knew this was Y/n.

Plastering on a smug smile, he looked to Mike.

"Why don't you find out yourself?"

Mike frowned, and looked over his shoulder to the door, briefly making eye contact with Will and Lucas before looking back to Dustin.

"Please, be my guest." He urged.

Dustin gestured to the front door and Mike stood, making his way over to answer it.

Mike had no idea what to expect, but when he opened the door he was still surprised to see a girl their age, standing on the front porch. You looked as if you were just as confused to see Mike as he was to see you.

You recognized him almost immediately from the pictures you had seen. It was just odd having someone else answer the door that wasn't Dustin.

He always answered the door when he was expecting you. Even the times where you could hear Mrs. Henderson call out to you that she would get it, it would usually be followed by a muffled thud and a slew of curses as Dustin scrambled to get there first.

You smiled politely. You recognized Mike from the pictures around Dustin's house and you figured they had been giving him crap or something and that's why Mike answered the door.

"Hi, you're Mike right? I'm Y/n," you stuck our your hand out for him to shake and in his confused daze he shook your hand as if he was on autopilot. "Where's Dustin?"

"Over here, Y/n/n." Dustin called wistfully.

You smiled, and rather than wait for Mike to let you in - it didn't look like the thought ever occurred to him - you stepped passed him, knowing you were invited anyway.

You stepped into the front room and you noted the delayed sound of Mike closing the door behind you and he wandered past you and back to his seat.

You looked at each of the boys, Will and Lucas gaping at you as well.

"Hi there," You met Will's eye and smiled. "You must be Will and that would make you Lucas?"

They each nodded respectively and Dustin got up, joining your side. He gently put his arm around you, a gesture you welcomed.

"Gentlemen, this is Y/n," He wore a beaming smile, looking at you fondly before looking back to his friends. "My girlfriend"

"Wait, seriously?" Lucas asked, dumbfounded.

Your smile grew brighter, albeit a bit smug, and you nodded proudly. "It's true. We've been together for some time now."

"So," Will spoke up. "You're the Y/n?"

"The one and only. And it's my understanding that you guys have been a bit "skeptical", you made air quotes as you said this, but out of politeness you kept them hidden at your sides. "about me and Dustin?"

Lucas opened his mouth to speak but the words seemed to have died on his tongue.

The guys did believe you existed of course. You and Dustin had met at the arcade, fighting over who got to play dig dug first. You had both gotten to the machine at the same time, but fought over it.

Dustin didn't argue that much, and gave the machine up to you. Not that he thought you couldn't win on your own or anything, but because he was more than fine waiting his turn for it if it meant having a reason to spend more time with you. A fact he had kept to himself. You two ended up taking turns on the game, each of you trying to beat each other's scores. Dustin had caught his friends up the next day at school, inadvertently gushing about the awesome girl he met at the arcade the previous day.

This adoration for you continued for weeks, the guys quickly lost interest and got fairly annoyed. He would find a way to bring you up in any conversation. "Y/n said the funniest thing today," and "I wish Y/n was here, she'd know just what to do," or "It's funny you say that, Y/n was just telling me about..." Eventually, one of them snapped one day, making some comment about he needed to get over her and Dustin retorted that as a matter of fact, he asked you out for a lunch date and you said yes.

A mixture of bad timing and irritation from the guys' side is what caused their disbelief. That and how highly he spoke of you. Surely no one was that perfect.

Any time he mentioned you from then on, something you did or said, anything involving you his girlfriend, they just assumed he didn't want to be caught in an embarrassing lie and kept up the act. For the sake of his dignity.

Yet they still couldn't quite shake the doubt that had taken root in their minds. Small parts in the back of their brian fed them alternate scenarios, any suggestion that could possible make sense all because if they admitted they were wrong they knew they had been bad friends.

Maybe you were just doing Dustin a favor by coming here and saying these things. Hell, maybe you found out he liked you and you didn't recproacte the feeling and as an act of pity, you agreed to lying for him just to shut them up. It was a definite stretch, but it was possible right?

No matter the doubt, however crazy the scenario, it didn't do anything to help the guilt that settled heavily on their concious. But in the whirlwind of it all, their attention was pulled to the front door for the third time that day to see Mrs. Henderson walk through the door, coat on, groceries and her keys in her hands.

She smiled brightly and greeted the boys, who politely greeted her back and when she saw you her lips stretched into a big grin.

"Y/n, honey! What a lovely surprise!" She set down the grocery bag and walked over to you.

She enveloped you with her signature mama bear hug and you gladly accepted the familiar embrace.

Pulling back, she inspected you, plucking a few cat hairs from your shoulder that had attached themselves to you during her hug. You were not fazed by this, you had gotten quite familiar with her motherly behavior. She went nuts for you when you met her and everytime you were around she doted on you more than she did Dustin if at at possible.

"Oh, how have you been sweetheart?"

You smiled warmly. "I'm great thank you. How are you?"

She gushed. "Oh I'm just fine, thank you sweetie. So tell me, what are you kids up to? Dusty, have you offered your friends a drink yet?"

"Yes mom," he said, a hint of impatience in his tone. "I was just introducing them to Y/n,"

Dustin made firm eye contact with each of his friends, reveling in the fact that they were finally listening.

"In fact, we were just clearing up some questions they had." He smiled smugly at his friends and they struggled maintaining eye contact.

"Oh, I remember when Dusty here was so excited when he first told me you guys had finally planned a first date. Gosh, he could not stop talking about you honey," Her loving gaze shifted from you to the other boys. "He was so nervous too."

"Mom!"

"It was so adorable," She giggled. "Hard to believe it's been almost a whole year now, isn't it?"

When they heard this from Mrs. Henderson, that was the final confirmation. Lucas, Mike and Will all felt immediately crushed by guilt and sent their friend many apologetic looks and apologized profusely the rest of the night.

In fact, it took them a very long time before they finally stopped apologizing. Even a scattered one here and there months after it happened.

Of course, that may or may not have had something to do with the fact that you never let them forget it.

#requested #dustin x reader #dustin henderson x reader #dustin henderson imagine #dustin henderson x fem!reader #dustin henderson #will byers #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #imagine #reader insert #self insert

[windless-hurricane]

She's the One

Chapter 2: Your Name

A Billy x Reader x Steve Fanfic

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SUMMARY: You're One, one of the many kids experimented on in Hawkins lab. Eleven's sister. You were found and now you're here to stay.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This took a lot longer to write than I anticipated, but here it is! I'd also like to apologize to anyone who sent me an ask. I accidentally responded and now I can't find y'all. If you're still interested, just let me know in the comments. Thank you.

WARNINGS: Language, violence, and scenes involving blood and/or death.

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

TAGLIST: @cherrym4rk @torntaltos @bun-dpdbny @5sosxgrethan @acidrain707 @evelynfreakinaddams @qtmeryr @kayln97 @uwu-bucky @book--butterfly @laurmillen @art-flirt @thecornerstoreoftheuniverse

LAST CHAPTER

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“What can you do?”

“How old are you?”

“Are you Eleven’s sister?”

“Just how strong are you?”

“Can you show us?”

The kids continued to throw question after question at you, expecting them to be answered, but leaving you with no time to answer them. You just stared at them with wide eyes until Hopper cut them off with a harsh tone.

“I’ll be asking the questions here.” And silence befell on them once again. Wow, you thought. He really had a talent for getting people to shut up.

You looked to him and he reeked of frustration and worry. However, when he spoke, there was an ounce of sympathy in his voice. “Why were you in that chamber?” You knew he was going to ask that. It was obvious enough, but it still made you cringe with discomfort. You didn’t want to talk about that chamber, because for you, that thing was a personal hell you thought you would never escape from. It was frightening and you never wanted to go back. However, answers were something that they deserved. Not only would it have helped them through this crisis, it would also give them some trust in you.

So, you cleared your throat and began to speak, slowly but carefully. “Well...since you know Eleven...you must already know...what the lab did…to her...to us.” He nodded. “I was the first one...they did it to… They always said that…they got lucky with me. That I was their best experiment and...would lay the groundwork for the others after me. That's why...all the kids who did survive the experiments, got one or two of my abilities.”

“And what exactly are your abilities,” Dustin asked with a grin, but Hopper wasn’t amused. He shot Dustin a death glare, but he didn't seem to notice it.

“I-I can move things...with my mind,” you revealed. “And make people see what I want them to see… I can read minds too and...tell what people are feeling.”

“Can you control people?”

“No. I haven't been able to that...not yet at least.” You caught a glimpse of Hopper's annoyed expression and gulped nervously. “Anyway... The reason I was in that chamber in the first place is because...I helped the other kids escape. Three, Seven, and Eight.”

“You mean there's other kids out there right now,” he asked.

“Well, not ‘here’ here, but...around. That day...I wasn't able to get Eleven out, but luckily...she was able to get out on her own.”

“While I was in there though, I could hear things - voices. At first, I-I didn't know who they belonged to, but I slowly started to realize what was going on. The first voice I heard was from that woman, Joyce...and she was talking...about him.” You pointed to Will who was asleep on the couch with a blanket over him. “He went missing and you found him, but now...something's wrong with him.”

“You know what's wrong?”

You nodded, while never breaking eye contact with him. “I know everything...because...I heard everything. I know all of you too. I recognize you from your voices.”

At that, everyone glanced between each other in astonishment. You, you were someone that they just met, someone who had just entered the picture without warning. Yet, you seemed to know more about what was going on than they did. Hell, you even knew all of them without a proper introduction. So if that didn’t show a fraction of what you were capable of, then they didn’t know what could. You were someone worth the bargain. Even so, Hopper felt compelled to ask one last thing.

“How long were you in there?”

You shrugged, “5 years, give or take.”

“Shit,” one of the kids breathed out and you could make it out as Lucas. Hopper sighed deeply and you could tell it was from a mixture of sympathy and desperation.

“I'm sorry to ask this of you, but...we need your help.”

“And I'll give it,” you blurted out without hesitation. “I was going to give it regardless.” You said more quietly as you looked over to Will. “There’s a darkness in Hawkins that we need to stop...and it starts with him.”

__________________________________________

“Okay, so if this thing is like a brain that’s controlling everything, then if we kill it...we kill everything that it controls.” You nodded as you continued to stare at the page from Dustin’s D&D manual. Mike’s deduction made sense, but the same question still stood. How do you-

“How do you kill this thing? Shoot it with fireballs or something?”

You jumped in surprise as Hopper snatched the manual away, trying to find the answer for himself. Dustin eventually spoke up, but it was less than confident.

“Well, uh, you summon an undead army, um, because-because zombies, you know, they don’t have brains.” He began to stumble over his own words. “And the mind flayer, it-it… It likes brains. It’s just a game. It’s a game,” he finally confessed.

“What the hell are we doing here,” Hopper groaned. Things weren’t looking good and that became more evident as Hopper and Dustin started to argue.

“I thought we were waiting for your military backup.”

“We are!”

“How are they gonna stop this? You can't just shoot this with guns.”

“You don't know that! We don't know anything!”

“We know it's already killed everybody in that lab. We know the monsters are gonna molt again. We know that it's only a matter of time before those tunnels reach this town.”

“They’re right,” a voice interrupted. Joyce. “We have to kill it.”

Your face softened as you turned to face her. She was being overwhelmed by grief, sadness, and anger, but who could blame her obviously. She lost someone she loved.

“I want to kill it,” she declared.

“Me too, Joyce. Me too.” Hopper was doing his best to calm her; but deep down, he couldn’t even do that for himself. “But how do we do that?” And it hit you.

“Will knows.” Everyone stopped and turned to you. “Will knows how to kill it, because he’s connected to it. He already knows everything about it and that includes its weaknesses.”

“I thought we couldn’t trust him anymore - that he’s a spy for the mind flayer now,” Max reminded, causing Mike to shake his head.

“Yeah, but he can't spy if he doesn't know where he is.”

“Exactly,” you confirmed. “This will work.”

__________________________________________

You all decided that the shed in the backyard would be the best place for Will’s interrogation. It was small, making it perfect to disguise in a short amount of time. So, you all went outside to find materials that could help in your endeavor.

You were encouraged to not use your powers until the real threat came and while that wasn't a terrible idea, you also hadn’t used your powers in five years. You were rusty and needed as much practice as you could get. So, whenever the kids came upon an object that was either too heavy to carry or too high on a shelf to reach, you helped them. It was enough for now.

You let out a small sigh as you wiped the blood dripping from your nose. “You okay,” you heard someone ask and you turned to find Hopper. You nodded.

“Ye-yeah, I’m okay. Thank you.” You moved to go back into the house since most of the preparations were finished already, but stopped once he spoke again.

“I’m sorry again that all of this was so sudden and that...we weren’t able to save you under more normal circumstances.”

“Oh… That-that’s okay,” you told him. “I’m just glad that...that you got me out...and honestly, this couldn’t have been a more perfect time. You need my help to stop this thing. So… I guess what I’m really trying to say is...thank you. Thank you for saving me.” You managed a small smile as you looked up at him and he simply nodded in response. However, the tiniest of smiles reached his lips as well.

“I know you said you already know me, but I think...you at least deserve something more proper than this,” he reached his hand out. “Jim Hopper.”

You gazed down at his hand for a bit before taking it like you thought you were supposed to. You tried to match his grip as you smiled wider, “One.”

__________________________________________

You sat in the kitchen, hugging your knees to your chest. It was the first time you were left alone since being freed and now, you couldn’t ignore all the emotions floating around you. Anger, fear, regret, guilt, sadness, pain. To make it worse, you could hear every sad thing being said in the shed. It didn’t matter if you weren’t there. You could still hear everything like you always did.

Do you know what March 22nd is? It's your birthday. Your birthday.

Do you remember the day Dad left? We stayed up all night building Castle Byers… just the way you drew it.

I just felt so alone and scared, but… I saw you alone on the swings and you were alone too.

Tears ran down your cheeks and you couldn’t tell if they were for them, yourself and the life you could’ve had, or both. It was all becoming too much to bear and you couldn’t help the tears that kept falling and the sniffles that started to leave you. It wasn’t until you heard someone walk in that you tried to contain yourself. You tried to get rid of the tears with the sleeves of your shirt, but it seems like you didn’t try hard enough.

“Hey… Hey, are you crying?” And you froze. No one had ever spoken to you like that before. No one had ever used a voice that was so genuine and calming that it was enough to make your tears stop. That voice provided instant relief and you didn’t know why. You looked up to the owner of that voice and it was none other than Steve with a face of worry plastered on him.

You gazed into his eyes for a bit before answering. They were brown, just like most of the world’s, yet they still managed to be different. They still managed to be incredibly warm and beautiful. It was quite soothing. You gulped softly before averting your gaze.

“No,” you uttered, but of course he wasn’t convinced.

“Then, what’s all this,” he asked, gesturing toward your glossy eyes and red nose.

“Um, I- It just comes with the power.” You smiled softly in an attempt to make him believe you.

“Oh, so a bad case of allergies comes with your powers?” You looked at him in astonishment before bursting out in laughter, something you didn’t even know you were capable of.

“What? No.”

“Well, that’s what you said,” he began to laugh as well as he grinned a smile that could’ve made your heart stop.

“That’s not what I meant,” you tried to explain. “It’s just that...with my power...I can feel the emotions of everyone around me, but it’s not something I can really turn off. So sometimes... it can be very overwhelming...like right now.”

“Yeah, it really isn’t the best time, huh?” You shook your head, causing him to hum in response. “What if you just focused on one person?” Your eyes widened.

“Huh?”

“What do you feel when you feel me?” His eyes widened too. “Wait, that sounds weird.” You let out a small chuckle as he started to panic. “I mean, what do you feel when...um-what do you feel when you see me?”

You tilted your head to the side as you felt him. Not physically, but just through the way you gazed at him.

“Worry and...nervousness,” you confirmed. “You’re a lot more tame than everyone else here.”

“Well, that’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” you chuckled, and you didn’t notice the way his eyes scanned over your features or the way he smirked after.

“So, your name’s One, huh? Like the number?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Yes.”

“But it’s not your actual name.” You shook your head, only confirming his thoughts.

“No. I don’t remember what my actual name was. One was just the name they gave me. We were never...people to them. We were just numbers...experiments.”

“That’s really messed up. I’m sorry.” You shook your head again.

“It-it’s okay.” However, he could still tell from you expression that it wasn’t.

“How about...we give you a new name? A real name?”

For some reason, your heart flutter at his suggestion and a warmth flushed your cheeks.

“Um, I think-I think I’d like that,” you told him and his eyes gleamed.

“Ok, names names. What do you look like?” He brought his hand to his chin and pondered for a bit. “How about… Stacy?” You grimaced without meaning to and he took that as a no. “Alright... Oh! Heather.” You shook your head. “Really?”

“Really,” you responded.

“Ok, ok. How about… Let me think. (Y/N). That’s a nice name.”

(Y/N). It was simple and different all at once, and the way it rolled it off his tongue made you like it even more.

“I think that’s it,” you smirked and he mimicked you right away.

“Well, (Y/N). I’m Steve Harrington.” He stuck his hand out and you took it gently. His hand was a lot bigger than yours in comparison, but a lot softer. It was warm and careful, like he was afraid he would crush your hand if he squeezed a bit too tightly. It was sweet.

“Well, Steve Harrington. I’m…(Y/N).”

“Nice to meet you.” You both giggled softly until you were cut off by Mike yelling ‘We got something!’

“Duty calls,” Steve sighed and you nodded, letting go of his hand reluctantly.

Although the moment was short, you appreciated Steve going out of his way to make you feel better. He comforted you and even made you laugh. It was like for a moment, you weren’t in this situation. For a moment, it felt like it was just the two of you - living and living happily.

_________________________________ 

While you and Steve were talking, the group in the shed was able to bring Will back. Not fully, but partly. It turned out that the recollection of his memories was helping him gain some control within his body. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. He tapped his fingers until he spelt ‘Here’ and with every memory someone spouted, a new letter came after. Eventually, you all got the answer that you had been hoping for.

“Close the gate,” you all read aloud in unison. Before you could even process that however, the phone started ringing and a nauseating pain was sent to the pit of your stomach.

The feeling only worsened when Nancy yanked the phone out of the wall. You already knew it was too late.

“They know where we are,” you stated and the monsters screeching in the distance only proved that.

“That’s not good,” Hopper muttered. “Come on. We gotta go.” He motioned for everyone to follow him, but there was nowhere to go. It was too dangerous to leave. It was too dangerous to even think about leaving. You could already feel those things nearby. 

You shook your furiously, “No, no. Get away from the windows!” Everyone was stunned by the volume of your voice, but seeing as you were the only strong enough to handle these things, no one complained. They easily compiled and started huddling up in the living room, preparing themselves for attack. You subconsciously put your arm in front of Steve and the other out in front of you. The growling steadily grew closer and closer and the closer it got, the more you tensed up. You weren't strong enough yet and you knew it, but that wasn't an excuse. You still had to protect them. You would protect them. 

So you waited, waited for something to come crashing through the door... But it never came. Instead, the growling was replaced by thrashing and you instantly knew who it was. 

Something came crashing through the window and everyone pointed their weapons at it. You glanced over and it was one of the monsters, freshly dead. Everyone else was alarmed but you. 

“It's okay,” you whispered, but they were more confused than reassured. The lock to the door slowly started to turn and everyone aimed their weapons at it.

With a small click, the door unlocked and creaked open. Once they set foot into the house, you smiled softly. 

“Eleven.”

#stranger things #she's the one #billy #billy hargrove #billy x you #billy x y/n #billy x reader #billy x oc #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargove fanfiction #steve #steve harrington #steve x you #steve x y/n #steve x reader #steve x oc #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington fanfiction #jim hopper #eleven #fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfiction

[morkhan]

Will Byers is Gay: The Evidence So Far

With the release of Stranger Things 3, there has been a lot of discussion kicked up about the character of Will Byers and his sexuality (or lack thereof). I've seen a lot of takes about what "it's not my fault you don't like girls" was intended to mean, many of which seem to take it in isolation, so I wanted to make a post putting it into what I think is its proper context; not an isolated incident, but the latest carriage in veritable train of queer themed language and imagery that has followed Will Byers since episode one of season one, and before that. You ready? Alright, let's go.

Season Zero: the Montauk Files

Before Stranger Things became Stranger Things, it was called Montauk. Like many would-be show makers, the Duffer Bros put together a "show bible" describing the premise, setting, tone, and characters of the show they intended to make. Like many shows, a lot of these ideas changed or were lost on their way to the screen, but it's always worth looking into their original concepts. Here is their description of Will Byers in the Montauk show bible:

Obviously, the major whammy there is in the first line "sexual identity issues." But there are some other interesting notes, like his "colorful clothes" that you might want to keep a lookout for on your next rewatch. Now, onto...

Season 1

The thing to pay attention to regarding Will in season 1 is in the language used to refer to him when he is not present (which he isn't for most of the season).

Episode 1: the subject of bullying comes up right away in the conversation between Joyce and Hopper. "The kids, they're mean. They laugh at him, laugh at his clothes, call him names." "What's wrong with his clothes?" "I don't know!" This harkens back to the Montauk show bible, but it's arguable, since it's never made clear what about his clothes draws ire.

She also mentions that he is "sensitive," "not like most," and that his dad said he was "queer" and called him a "fag." Hopper asks "is he?" to which she replies "He's missing is what he is!"

Episode 3: Troy says he's not missing, he's dead. "Probably killed by some other queer."

Episode 4: Troy, again "Will's in fairyland, flying around with all the other little fairies, all happy and gay."

Sensitive, queer, fag, fairy, and gay are all used to describe Will in season 1, but perhaps more notable is the fact that they aren't used to describe anyone else. If the show were truly period accurate, let's be real; the whole party would've been called queers on a pretty regular basis, because "queer" doubled as a generic insult back then. But in season 1, these words are only ever used in relation to Will, with one exception; in episode 6, Steve says to Will's brother, "I used to think you were queer." So it's not even an active accusation in that moment; it's used in the negative.

Hell, Troy walked up to Lucas mockingly proposing to Mike and proclaiming his love for him, and he still didn't call them queers. That language is reserved for Will.

Now granted, most of these are used as insults by characters who don't like Will, but still; as a writer, if you want your audience to remember something, repetition is an excellent way to embed it in their minds. There's a reason for the specificity of language surrounding Will, and a reason that language keeps coming up over and over and over again.

Season 2

Season 2 retires much of the homophobic language used to insult Will, replacing it with "Zombie Boy." The only homophobic language used in season 2 is the word "faggot," used by Billy's father to refer to Billy, who expresses a clear interest in women (and an arguable interest in one particular man, but that's the subject of another post).

Still, there is an arguable bit of queer theming in Will's conversation with Jonathan regarding the benefits of being a "freak" and how normal people never accomplish anything. Jonathan even invokes bisexual icon David Bowie to make Will feel better about his "freakishness."

The clearest piece of queer theming for Will in season 2 comes in episode 8, in this beautiful speech from Joyce to Possessed Will:

"When you turned eight, I gave you that huge box of crayons, do you remember that? It was 120 colors. And all your friends got you Star Wars toys, but all you wanted to do was draw with all your new colors. And you drew this big spaceship, but it wasn't from a movie. It was YOUR spaceship; a RAINBOW Ship, that's what you called it. And you, you must have used every color in the box. I took that with me to Melvald's, and I put it up. I told everyone who came in, 'My son drew this.' And you were so embarrassed, but I was so proud. I was so, so proud."

This is one of the most powerful memories of her son that Joyce has, an image so strong and distinct that she uses it to invoke his true identity against the monster that is slowly subsuming him. She notes very specifically that it's not something he copied, but something that came entirely from Will himself, an image that she felt represented him so perfectly that she took it with her to work and proudly touted it as his to everyone she knew. The Rainbow Ship is Joyce's picture of her son's very heart, and surely I don't need to explain to you how powerful a piece of queer imagery the rainbow is.

Some subtextual stuff; in episode 9, when the girl asks Will to dance, he stammers "I... I don't..." and only goes to dance with her when Mike literally pushes him towards her.

During the final montage, the scene cuts to different characters in time with appropriate lines from the song: "every move you make" cuts to Mike and El (as he is teaching her to dance), "every vow you break" cuts to Nancy dancing with Dustin (as she technically cheated on Steve with Jonathan), "I'll be watching you" cuts to Lucas dancing with Max (as she has playfully called him 'stalker' all season). What line cuts to Will? "Every smile you fake," specifically on the word fake, while Will dances with a girl wearing this expression:

That is not a real smile, that is not a comfortable boy, and that is not an accident; Noah Schnapp is one of the best actors in the entire show, and of the young boys, he is the one the Duffers trust most to do dramatic heavy lifting.

Do you want it to be a little more explicit? Okay, here is that scene in the script:

I mean, that pretty much speaks for itself. It's less explicit in the actual show, but it's still there, you know?

Season 3

And now, the biggest and most explicit thing to date; The Scene. I mean, you could discuss the obvious subtext in the simple fact that Will is the only male main character who has yet to find a girlfriend or express any interest in girls whatsoever, but that pales in comparison to The Scene.

The setup for The Scene is pretty simple; after declaring "a day free of girls" in order to get his friends to run the D&D campaign he's probably spent a significant amount of time creating, his friends have blown him off to continue bemoaning their girl troubles, so Will has decided to leave. Mike, realizing too late that he has genuinely upset his friend, chases after him to try and get him to come back.

A back-and-forth argument ensues, where Will accuses Mike of ruining the party and abandoning his friends in favor of girls, and Mike, in the heat of the moment, responds with "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" After which, everything stops. There is a full second of silence, and a close up on Noah Schnapp's face so you can take in his reaction.

There is a lot to unpack here. Now, acting is up to interpretation to a degree, but to me, that expression conveys two primary emotions; shock, and betrayal. That face says "how could you?" Because here's the thing; regardless of what Mike does or doesn't know about Will's sexuality, Mike knows for a fact that Will has been called a queer all his life by everyone from his school bullies to his own fucking dirtbag father. By invoking even the specter of that, Mike has crossed a fucking line, and he knows it. And we know he knows it, because he immediately backtracks and tries to mitigate the damage. But it's too late. The damage has been done.

I also think there is a tinge of fear in that image. Just a moment of soul raking panic that pretty much every closeted queer person knows intimately. It's very brief. But I think it's there, if you look.

This scene sends Will into an emotional tailspin that culminates in him tearing down the literal last bastion of his childhood in a fit of sorrow and rage. His innocence has been destroyed. He cannot regain what he has lost, and he can never go back to the way things were before. This is the emotional climax of his arc for season three. It's a powerful one-- shame it comes in the third of eight episodes, but that's neither here nor there.

And that's pretty much it for now. Any one of these things taken in isolation could be very easily dismissed, but here's the thing; they aren't isolated incidents. They are part of a clear and consistent pattern, one that goes all the way back to the show's inception, before even one minute of footage was filmed. And this pattern points to one very obvious conclusion; the Duffer Brothers have always intended, and continue to intend, for Will Byers to be gay.

Now, for the obvious question; why haven't they made it explicit yet?

The answer is as unfortunate as it is obvious; I don't know.

It's entirely possible that there is some external force that the Duffers have to answer to that is preventing them from actively pursuing this particular storyline. This happens all the time in Hollywood, and it could be anything from Netflix to Noah Schnapp's parents to Noah Schnapp himself just being uncomfortable with it. Many are the creators who dream Big Gay Dreams only to run into the horrors of our Forced Hetero Reality. If the Duffers ultimately submit to these pressures, I hope you won't be too hard on them. This shit is harder than you think to get to the screen sometimes.

But it's also possible that they just aren't ready for it yet. That they have been saving this for a future storyline, that they just want their characters (and the actors) to get a little older before they pursue this particular storyline explicitly, but they've been busily laying groundwork for it so that anyone paying attention will know it's coming.

I don't know. Only time will tell for sure.

For now, I can tell you this; I see a great deal of evidence that the Duffers still intend for Will to be gay, and precisely zero that they have changed their minds.

I hope that holds true.

#stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #stranger things spoilers

[hawkinsschoolcounselor]

Will Byers: The Great Debate

I know I still have some requested analyses to do, but I’m in a rotten mood, and I need to vent.

This whole debate on Will and whether he is gay has me infuriated. Yeah, I know I’m heavily biased due to my identification with the character, but I’m still pissed. The assumption that Will isn’t gay until they explicit state it is solely based on heteronormativity. In pop culture, people are simply assumed straight until proven otherwise. It’s the reason why they were able to hoodwink everyone with Robin in the first place. With just a mention of her saying she was obsessed with Steve in high school, everyone assumed the two of them would be a thing by the end of the season. That was a totally acceptable assumption to make. Thinking Will is gay? No, they need to tell us that.

There are reasons to think Will is gay, and certainly more than the casual fan probably realizes. I will go over them here, not that I need to lecture anyone who actually reads this on the topic.

1) Will is stated as having sexual identity issues in the original character summary.

Let’s just get this one out of the way. Yeah, it’s not known to the average viewer, but it’s still valid. Sure, they could have since deviated from the original plan, and by itself it may mean nothing, but it’s supporting evidence.

2) Will is bullied for being gay.

This is another one that doesn’t mean anything by itself. Will is bullied for being gay by both his father and the local bully. They could have used any number of similar characteristics, but they went with gay. Will is small, sweet, and honest, so there’s possibilities like mama’s boy, sissy, etc that could have gotten a similar point across without bringing in sexuality. It’s not just a passing mention. It comes up when Joyce talks to Hopper, and he even asks if it’s true. Troy is an absolute monster as he twists the knife in Mike’s wound. Troy bullies the other three for cruel, but accurate, reasons. He mocks Lucas’ race, Dustin’s lack of teeth, and Mike’s face (Mike kinda got off easy if you ask me). Now Troy may or may not be correct, but he probably thinks he is. He digs into each character’s deepest insecurities. He exists to tell us this information. If Will’s sexuality is unimportant, then why have Troy bully him the same way Will’s own father did? Troy simply could have made fun of him for being poor.

3) Will is especially close to Mike

This is made clear in every season. Yeah, they’re best friends, but Will and Mike are depicted as special. From the very start, Will can’t bring himself to lie to Mike. Yeah, I know, you can excuse the whole “It was a 7.” thing as just him foreshadowing his ordeal, but why set it up with Lucas telling him it’s ok as long as Mike doesn’t know? Mike is similarly shown as close to Will, with him being the most concerned. Dustin and Lucas are clearly worried too, and upset when the body is found, but Mike is shown taking it the hardest. They’re telling us the two of them share something special. Season 2 doubles down on this  hard. Mike is the only one Will trusts with what’s happening to him. Mike is the only one he is shown remembering other than is mother. Mike is ultimately the one who breaks through to him. 

4) Will is extremely jealous when Mike and El get together.

I don’t know why this one is hard for people to see. Maybe they’re just not looking for it. Yeah, some of it is just some good, subtle acting. Will is upset every single time Mike is shown showing affection for El. It technically starts in the Season 2 script with Will’s eyes being on Mike as they were all dancing. I know I’ve seen a clip of Will glancing over and looking upset, but I don’t remember that from the actual release. Was that a deleted scene? If so, its removal is conspicuous, especially with that released script. The jealousy is still apparent throughout Season 3. The sad looks on Will’s face whenever Mike and El are together, when Mike says he loves her. The anger he shows towards Mike, and only Mike, despite Dustin and Lucas similarly being focused on girls. I know I’ve seen people say he smiles when El dumps Mike. I honestly can’t tell, but he does look away, suggesting he doesn’t want his reaction to be noticed.

5) Mike is able to evoke emotion in Will

For the most part, Will is a quiet kid. He’s soft-spoken and has an innocence about him. He has a little frustration in Season 2, due to people treating him differently (though he leaves Mike out of his accusations), but he’s generally a go with the flow guy. Mike has the power to calm Will, to cheer him up, and make him cry both good and bad tears. Even in Season 3, his D&D annoyance is a slow build. It’s ultimately Mike’s rejection that sets him off. It’s specifically the fact that he feels he’s losing Mike. They were building that frustration alongside the D&D the entire season to that point. Is it really that much of a stretch for D&D to be a metaphor here? He jabs Mike over El when Mike tries to apologize, accusing him of throwing everything away over a “stupid girl.” Now, this “stupid girl” is supposed to be a friend of his, one who has helped save him twice. Will looks around Castle Byers at a D&D book and a drawing of Will the Wise. Both are accompanied by flashbacks beginning with Mike’s voice. He tears up the photo from Halloween, the night of the Crazy Together moment, right down the middle where Mike and Will are depicted. Will ends up destroying Castle Byers, berating himself the entire time, before collapsing in anguish. Yeah, it can be open to interpretation, but it’s not hard to see that Will could be calling himself stupid for thinking he and Mike shared something special now that El is in the picture. I’d like the people who think Will just isn’t ready to grow up to explain to me why that scene felt more like a breakup than a friend fight.

6) Will seems relatively trauma-free

Now, this is actually an issue I have with the show, as Will, along with pretty much the entire cast, should be amazingly traumatized. I bring it up only to counter the idea that Will has lost a portion of his childhood to the Upside Down, and so he’s not ready to grow up. Will has lost about two weeks of his childhood. He showed some issues in Season 2 before getting possessed, but he’s also shown enjoying his childhood as well. Just because we rejoin his life when bad stuff returns to Hawkins it doesn’t mean he had no life in the interim. He didn’t spend every day since getting rescued from the Upside Down in a hospital or deprived of his friends. There’s honestly no reason why Eleven would be more ready for adolescence than Will. If anything, Will should be associating his trauma with D&D and avoiding it like the plague. It should be causing him post-traumatic stress. He should want to get as far away from reminders of what happened as possible. A game with mindflayers and demogorgons isn’t something he should want. He has a reason for wanting D&D, and it’s not that he’s still a kid inside, because he still had other interests before Season 3, like comics, drawing, and the arcade.

7) Will not liking girls doesn’t just mean he doesn’t like them yet

This is the other counter argument I’ve noticed: that Will just hasn’t matured to liking girls yet. While it’s not unbelievable for a boy his age to not start sexually maturing, there’s really no indication of this. He isn’t just uncomfortable dancing with the girl in Season 2, he flat out doesn’t want to do it. He also has no problem with Max joining them for Halloween, stating that Dustin and Lucas were excited about it so he ok’d it. He understands boys liking girls. He shows no real hostility towards Dustin or Lucas for it. When he tells Joyce he’s never going to fall in love, it doesn’t sound like a kid who finds the idea of dating gross. He sounds sad as he says it. When Mike says it’s not his fault Will doesn’t like girls, Will is stunned into silence. Now Mike doesn’t know if Will is gay, and Will may not really know either, but it cuts deep.

In conclusion

By no means is my interpretation definitely correct. I could be absolutely wrong. But why is my interpretation seen as ridiculous? My theory isn’t perfect, but I have evidence. I have rebuttals to alternate interpretations. If we’re not meant to think Will is gay, why does it seem like they keep giving us reasons to? If it’s not important, people from the show could easily just say so. Noah and Finn end up having to awkwardly respond to questions they may not even have the answers to. 

It’d be very strange if the Duffers and their team somehow painted themselves into a corner by accident. It’s possible, sure, but I don’t see how it could keep happening. Finn had said they had other takes of “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls!” including one that added “yet”, but stated that they ultimately went with the one in question. Well, I mean, they chose to go with that one. I don’t know why, but neither do the people saying Will is just immature. We speculate, and if I speculate that they went with that one because that’s the storyline they’re going for and are trying to keep it under wraps, then I should be allowed to do so without being scoffed at. I may be biased because of my bisexuality, but they’re also biased because of their heteronormativity. 

#stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #byeler #stranger things 3 #spoilers

[nicolewrites]

someone to carry me home

Stranger Things 3. What a ride. So here's to hijacked motivation and my eternal sadness at how my favourite ST couple were treated this season.

Rating: T Genre: Friendship and Romance Characters: [Max Mayfield and Lucas Sinclair], Dustin, Eleven, Mike, Will Words: 7,342

"Max Mayfield likes a very specific list of things: rockstars, skateboards, old fashioned arcades, California, and sarcasm. Notably, people do not rank high on her list of positive things. Neither does Indiana and yet here she is." Lucas and Max and a memorable first year.

AO3 | FFN

Max Mayfield likes a very specific list of things: rockstars, skateboards, old fashioned arcades, California, and sarcasm. Notably, people do not rank high on her list of positive things. Neither does Indiana and yet here she is.

Purdue is a good school. Purdue is, really, a great school, and she should be pleased to be here, but as she drags her suitcase behind her into the elevator, all she can think of is the acceptance letter to UCLA that she had pinned above her desk. Max sighs and jams the button for the ninth floor.

UCLA would have been great, but Max couldn’t stay in California. She had had to leave the city, leave the state, and get as far away as possible to somewhere that her mother and her stepfather and Billy would never even consider visiting. So she picked Purdue and now she is here in Indiana for god knows why.

Thankfully her room isn’t too far from the elevator, and she manages to lug all her stuff in after only two trips. There is a little cloud with her name scribbled in it on her door and she quickly rips it down. She glances up and down the hallway, but no one seems to be out of their room, so she slips into her room and closes the door.

She doesn’t have a roommate–thank god–and her dorm room is small and pretty old, but it’s better than the pictures she had seen. She drops her suitcase to the ground with a heavy thud and dumps her backpack on the bare mattress of the bed. She sits on the mattress and exhales slowly.

It took entirely too long for her eighteenth birthday to come so that her mother was comfortable with letting her leave, but she was out. She was away from her stepdad and away from Billy and she, if it could be helped, was never going back. She had moved to Indiana for school so she figured she would throw herself into school for four years, get a job, and move out of Indiana, even further away from California.

There is a loud thud from the room to her right which is followed by a loud, feminine giggle. Max flops back on her bed and sighs. She’s pretty sure the people who room on that side of her are boys, so that means at least one of them probably has a girlfriend. The walls in dorms are notoriously thin and now she can look forward to sex noises on top of everything else.

This is why Max doesn’t like people.

-

It’s a week and a half into classes before Max finally meets one of her neighbours. Surprisingly, the room has been pretty quiet, other than the occasional chatter, but she has heard a girl’s voice here and there. She’s just stepping into the elevator to head back to her room after a particularly exhausting chemistry lecture when a guy darts forward and holds the elevator door open so he can slip inside. He smiles at her and reaches to press a button, but freezes when he sees that she’s already pushed the one for the ninth floor.

“You’re on nine, too?” he asks.

She glances at him and takes in his appearance. He’s dark-skinned with sharp eyes and a whip-crack smile and Max almost lets herself think that he’s cute before she nods to answer his question.

He shuffles his feet and his smile wavers with his nerves for a second. “Cool, what room are you?”

“982,” she answers because she might as well humour him, if at least for the elevator ride.

His brow rises. “I’m in 984, so we must be right next to each other.”

Max immediately quashes any thoughts of his good looks because if this is her neighbour, it’s definitely his girlfriend that she’s heard through the wall. “Yeah,” she replies idly. She glances at the elevator display as the number six shifts into a seven. Still two floors to go.

“I don’t think I ever saw your nameplate,” he continues and Max exhales because she really just wants this stupid cute neighbour to shut up. “What’s your name?”

“Max,” she replies shortly. She doesn’t bother asking for his name, because then she has a name to match a face, which is something she really doesn’t want.

Of course, because he’s that type of guy, he gives one anyways. “I’m Lucas. Engineering student,” he says. He holds out a hand and Max knows that it would be the ultimate asshole move not to shake it, so she does.

“Chemistry,” she offers in return.

Lucas grins. “Wicked, chem’s a tough one.”

Max shrugs. “As long as I’m not writing essays.”

“Ha, yeah you’re talking to an engineer there, so I agree.”

His wit makes her crack a smile right as the elevator dings and the doors open onto their floor. Max steps out and Lucas follows her, keeping pace as they walk towards their rooms. Max stops in front of her room and digs in her pocket for her room key. Lucas hovers, a little awkwardly, just to her right in front of his own door.

“My roommate, some friends from high school and I are going out for dinner tonight, if you were interested in joining us at all.”

Max bites her lip. “I would, but I’ve got a lab in two days that I really need to prepare for. Thanks anyways though.”

Lucas shrugs and slides a hand into one of his pockets. “I didn’t think there was any harm in asking.”

Max turns the key in her lock and opens her door. She steals one last look at the cute neighbour. “No, not really.” He gives her a lop-sided smile as she slips inside her room.

She drops her bag to the floor and sighs deeply. She’s here for school, not to get distracted by cute boys, even if they live next door. Besides, he’s attractive enough that the girlfriend next door must be his so it doesn’t matter anyway.

-

Because, of course, it turns out that Max and her cute neighbour run the same schedule on Tuesdays and Thursdays. They both get back from class or dinner or the library at 7:30 sharp and take the elevator to the ninth floor together.

Max tries really hard not to care, but Lucas is cute and funny and genuinely interesting to talk to. Plus, when she calls him ‘Stalker’ his smile gets a little lopsided and her heart does flips when he calls her ‘Mad Max’, so frankly, they fall into an easy routine of teasing and what might be–though Max isn’t hopeful–flirting.

Whoever arrives in the lobby of the residence building pushes the elevator button first, but they always get on together. Lucas asks her about class and labs and she asks him about Indiana and if there is anything interesting out in the middle of nowhere both at school and where he’s from.

Max doesn’t make many other friends, a few from her classes, but it’s nice to be able to say that she and Lucas are definitely beyond acquaintances now. Plus, he’s still cute, so she can’t really complain. She’s a little confused as to why she and Lucas appear to be meeting up so often when she still hasn’t met his roommate or the girlfriend.

-

It’s mid-October and the first Midwestern winter chills are blowing in on the day that she meets the girlfriend. Max jerks her jean jacket tightly around her as she scurries into the building lobby, huffing out cold air. It’s a Wednesday, which means no Lucas, so she heads right for the elevators.

There’s another girl waiting for the elevators, her hands behind her back as she rocks onto her toes. Max avoids eye contact as she normally does with all people, but she can’t help but notice that the girl doesn’t look familiar at all, something unusual considering Max recognizes most people who live in the building now. Not to mention that with curly, shoulder-length brown hair and a delicate face, the girl is really, really pretty.

The elevators ding and Max slips inside first, quickly punching the button for her floor. The girl follows, and hesitates, exactly like Lucas had done back in September.

A needle of doubt pricks in Max’s stomach and the selfish part of her brain chants, Don’t be his girlfriend, don’t be his girlfriend.

The girl snaps suddenly, pointing at Max. “Oh! You’re Max! Lucas mentioned you!”

Max raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I’m Max.”

The girl smiled. “Jane Hopper, but everyone just calls me El.” She stuck a hand out and Max awkwardly shook it.

Any hopes she had been harbouring of the pretty girl not being Lucas’s girlfriend shrivel and die. Max forces a smile and adjusts her backpack. She glances at the elevator monitor: four floors left.

“You’re the girlfriend then?”

El laughs. “Wow, I’m already getting that name. I guess I am.”

Max smirks a little. “I’m glad the walls are thicker than the residence reviews said they would be.”

Her quip finally triggers a response in the girl as her cheeks flare red instantly as she giggles nervously. Max waves her off.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she adds as an afterthought.

El smiles. For a blissful moment, there is silence before it is broken again. “Hey, I know Lucas has tried to invite you out with our friends before, but we’re going out tonight again and it would be super cool if you joined us.”

Max blinks in surprise. Lucas inviting her out was one thing because they were neighbours and sort of friends, but his girlfriend doing the same? Max casts her a look, suddenly feeling shy. She isn’t used to having female friends so the eagerness in El’s voice is new.

El smiles brightly again and Max finds herself nodding before she can really think. “Ok, sure,” she replied.

“Cool! Why don’t you drop your stuff and get whatever you need from your room and then just knock on the boys' door when you’re ready?”

The doors slide open on the ninth floor and Max’s time to backpedal evaporates. “Sounds good,” she forces out.

El smiles and the two girls walk side by side to the neighbouring rooms. El pauses to glance at Max’s door before turning and knocking on Lucas’s. “See you shortly!”

Max quickly slips inside her room so she doesn’t have to see Lucas greet his girlfriend. She tosses her school bag onto her dresser and falls face-first onto her bed, groaning. At the very least this event would force her to meet more people, she thinks despondently. She pushes herself up and glances at her mirror.

She’s wearing a vintage t-shirt emblazoned with The Eagles logo paired with ripped black jeans and her trusty jean jacket. It’s a look she is proud of and she sees no reason to change. She grabs her purse and keys, runs her fingers through her curly red hair and slides out the door.

It takes her two full seconds of standing in the hallway to gather the courage to knock, but she finally does, rapping her knuckles against the wood three times.

The door swings open almost immediately and Max comes face to face with a grinning Lucas. He’s wearing a plain blue t-shirt and grey jeans, but he makes it look effortlessly attractive and Max quashes down the internal girliness which was scoping him out.

“Max, hey! El said you were going to join us tonight!” Lucas’s smile is easy-going and familiar and Max relaxes just a little. “Come on in,” he says, opening the door wider.

She steps in and takes in the room. It’s bigger than her room, with two desks, two closets, and two beds. Both sides are covered with various geek memorabilia. As she steps in, her gaze is drawn to El and the boy next to her that she presumes to be Lucas’s roommate.

El and the roommate are sitting on the bed that she presumes to be not-Lucas’s and the guy has an arm slung around El’s shoulders as they chat easily. El’s eyes are bright and happy as she looks up at him. It only takes a second for everything to click in Max’s mind.

El isn’t Lucas’s girlfriend. She is Lucas’s roommate’s girlfriend. The petty, jealous part of her instantly disappears and Max is relieved to suddenly be able to breathe again.

“Max, this is El, as you know, and my roommate, Mike, her boyfriend,” Lucas introduces as he walks up behind her suddenly.

Mike grins at her. He was cute too, but certainly not her type. He’s all lank with a messy mop of dark hair and a light spattering of freckles. “Nice to finally meet you, neighbour. I’ve heard all about you from Lucas, but it’s funny we’ve never met.”

Max laughs, her chest suddenly lighter. “Nice to meet you too, Mike.”

There’s a short, almost awkward pause, before there’s another knock at the door. Lucas spins and heads to open it. Max glances back and sees him embrace whoever is at the door. Lucas steps aside and a guy with the wildest, curliest hair Max has ever seen steps in, grinning broadly.

“You must be Max! It’s a pleasure to meet you,” the new guy says. He steps forward and sticks out a hand.

Max shakes it and takes in his appearance. He’s wearing jeans and a rumpled Back to the Future shirt with a green and yellow baseball cap. “Max Mayfield, the, apparently,” she pauses, giving Lucas a sly look, “infamous neighbour.”

Lucas just gives her a smile that makes her stomach flip. The new guy sizes her up.

“I’m Dustin, and I’m definitely the coolest out of any of these guys, so don’t worry about a thing around me.”

Lucas, Mike, and El all laugh at this statement and Max feels a genuine smile lift her lips too. “Good to know,” she replies teasingly. Friends, her brain thinks giddily, I think these people want to actually be my friends.

-

As it turns out, Dustin is the craziest and everyone in the party loves to argue. After Dustin’s arrival, the group had set out for a retro diner nearby where they met up with Will and Joe. Will was apparently a part of the original friend group from small-town Indiana, while Joe, Will’s boyfriend, is a new addition that attends the high-scale Arts Institution that Will studies at in Lafayette.

They had crammed together into one of those oddly circular booths with El and Mike and Will and Joe smushing together. Max slides in next to El and Lucas follows her in, while Dustin sits on Joe’s other side. The group is incredibly welcoming, telling funny stories and light-hearted jokes while catching up on school and social lives and stories from home.

They eat greasy burgers and fries and Max laughs so hard her stomach hurts. Joe’s arm tucks around Will and Mike’s does the same around El. Dustin doesn’t bat an eye at any of it and neither does Lucas, so Max just assumes that the behaviour is absolutely normal for the group. At some point through the meal, Lucas’s arm drapes along the top of the booth behind Max and she almost desperately wishes for it to drop down against her shoulder.

Still, she feels optimistic about things and ribs Lucas in time with the other friends and joins him in teasing Dustin or Mike about one thing or another. Joe and Will are the first to head out since they have to head across town back to their campus and El and Mike leave next, heading, apparently to El’s dorm. Dustin shrugs bids Max and Lucas goodbye, heading back to his own place.

Lucas and her walk back together, a companionable silence settling between them.

“Your friends are cool,” Max admits as they finally reach the entrance to their building.

Lucas grins. “I’ll add you to our group chat. I think everyone really likes you and you should definitely hang out with us again. Plus, I think El will love not being the only girl around.”

Max smiles faintly as she reaches out to punch the elevator button. Her hand gets there a split second before Lucas’s and his finger jabs onto hers and she recoils sharply. Lucas blinks in surprise and they make awkward eye contact before they both burst out laughing.

“Wow, that was stupid,” he chuckles.

Max grins. “Yes, it was, Stalker.”

The elevator doors open and they step in together. Lucas pushes the button for nine and the doors slide shut. There’s an awkward pause before he looks at her.

“Hey, do you want to come over and watch a movie? I have a whole collection of stupid retro films I think you’d like.”

Max finds herself smiling stupidly. “Only if we get to watch in my room. I’m almost 100 percent certain my bed will be more comfortable.”

Lucas laughs and Max’s stomach flips again. “Whatever helps you sleep better.”

She jabs her elbow against his ribs, smirking. “Literally.”

He snorts. “That one was bad, Mad Max.”

She shrugs. “You set me up for it.”

-

The one thing Max had not expected from befriending the Party, as they called themselves, was the sheer amount of nerdiness that came with them. Sure, she is studying Chemistry, but nothing prepared her for Engineer-Lucas, Biochemist-Dustin, Physicist-Mike, and Art Major-Will in full on geek mode. Sure, seeing Lucas and Mike’s room might have warned her, but when someone knocks on her door at 7pm on a random Friday night, she isn’t expecting El and Joe to ask her to save them.

Apparently, Friday nights are exclusively reserved for the Party’s D&D sessions. Max has no issues with the game itself, just the fact that it routinely means shouting from next door as she tries to study. It does mean, however, that she gets to hang out with El and Joe a lot and make fun of their boyfriends and friends.

The one night she had dared sit in on a session out of morbid curiosity had been hilarious and actually almost interesting enough to sit in on a second, but the instant she had been asked by Lucas what she had thought, El had shaken her head frantically, telling Max that it was a terrible idea.

So Friday’s become El-Max-Joe nights while the party plays D&D next door, and Saturday nights become Lucas-Max nights as they watch stupid 80s and 90s movies or really terrible horror movies. Dustin joins them occasionally, but it’s mostly just Lucas and Max. Max loves Saturdays, but some part of her wedged deep inside refuses to let her ask Lucas if he thinks that their movie nights are kind of like date nights.

-

The party makes plans to go home for Thanksgiving and Max ignores the calls from her mother insisting that she come home and she prepares to stay at school and be lonely. She isn’t expecting Lucas to stare at her like she’s lost her head when she says she isn’t going home. She also definitely isn’t expecting him to invite her back to small-town Hawkins to celebrate with his family. Not sure what else to do, she accepts, and the grin he gives her makes it worth it.

The drive back to Hawkins is three hours and her, Dustin, and Lucas all take turns DJing and singing along terribly to loud music. The three of them carpool in Lucas’s car and he drives the whole way since Lucas mentions something about Dustin being a terrible driver. Max just laughs and calls shotgun, delegating Dustin to the backseat.

Hawkins is a criminally small town, but from the stories she has heard from the Party, it looks exactly like she expects. Lucas points out the Sheriff’s office where El’s dad works and the general store where Will’s mom works and the tiny post office where Mike’s sister and Will’s brother both work part-time.

They drop Dustin off first, and all the nervousness that Max had been suppressing returns full-force as she realizes she is about to spend an entire weekend with Lucas and his family. Lucas doesn’t pick up on it until he pulls up outside a quaint two-story house and he looks over at her.

“Jesus, Max, you’re white as a sheet. Are you okay?” His hand finds hers where it sits limply on the console.

The touch is reassuring and gentle and Max exhales slowly. “Yeah, I guess I’m just grateful to be here. You really didn’t have to do this.”

Lucas shakes his head. “Hey, my family is legendary for Thanksgiving celebrations. I want you to be here, and I know my family will love you.”

His confidence bolsters her own and she nods finally. “Okay, yeah, let’s do this.”

-

Lucas’s mom is incredibly nice. His dad’s a little rougher, but still warm and welcoming and Max understands where Lucas’s kindness has come from. His family home is cozy and generous and a little loud, but it feels like a home. Lucas and his sister Erica bicker relentlessly, but the smiles that play on the faces of both parents let Max realize that this is exceedingly normal.

Compared to the brother-sister relationship she knows, and the relationship she has seen between her mother and step-father, everything that she sees at the Sinclair’s is a huge breath of fresh air. Their adoration and love for each other shine through even in the barbed insults that get traded by the siblings. Still, Max loves Erica and her sass and Lucas’s parents for being so incredibly kind to her.

They set her up in the guest bedroom and she sinks onto the mattress slowly, exhaling. It’s almost overwhelming, the amount of love that is in this house. And it hurts to know that this is the kind of thing she missed out on back in California. She doesn’t realize how long she just sits there numbly until Lucas is knocking on the doorframe.

He looks a bit concerned at her expression and he wanders in and sits next to her. “Earth to Max? Are you okay?”

Max shakes herself. “Yeah, yeah I’m great, actually. It’s just nice to be in a place where Thanksgiving is a happy thing.” She bites her tongue after she speaks and expects a prying question in response, but as always, Lucas tactfully avoids making her uncomfortable.

“My mom likes you already. Be careful, or you might find yourself invited back for Christmas and Easter.” He says it like it’s something terrible and Max laughs weakly. Spending the holidays with people who are pleasant and don’t throw fists and scalding words at every opportunity has been her dream since her mother married Neil.

Max leans her head against Lucas’s shoulder. He tenses for a moment before he relaxes, resting his head atop hers. “Thanks, Lucas,” she mumbles softly.

-

Thanksgiving is a respite, a light in her darkness, and she feeds off of the feeling of family that it left her long past November and into December as Lucas drops her off at the airport to fly home to California for Christmas. They’re wearing matching grey sweaters with ‘Purdue’ on them in gold and Max gives him a last smile before she slips out of his car.

She’s grabbing her suitcase from his trunk when he walks up beside her. He places it on the ground and pulls her into a sudden hug. She squeezes him back and has to force back tears as he pulls away. She’s going to miss him and the whole party over the break, but it’s only just two weeks. A part of her wants to just jump back into the car and go to his place with him where his mother’s smile and cooking and his father’s jokes and stories and Erica’s stubborn sass will have her laughing till her sides hurt, but she has to go home eventually.

Christmas sucks. Dinner is burnt and dry and tense and by the time Max gets on a flight back to school in the beginning of January, her Purdue sweater is hiding several bruises and a healing cigarette burn on her shoulders and arms. She was decidedly not coming home for summer, and not everyone in the house had been pleased with that news.

Mike and El pick her up from the airport because Lucas isn’t back from Hawkins yet, but Max is still incredibly glad to see the couple. They chat on and on about their break and how much fun they had and how they got the whole group together except her and how obviously she was missed. Max smiles and sinks into the seat, relishing the fact that she was back in Indiana and that Billy and Neil were in California and it would be a long while before she would see them again.

-

In early March, the whole party finds themselves at a house party halfway between Will and Joe’s art school, and El’s dorm on the east end of campus. The party is loud. Some popular rap song is blaring through the house, physically shaking it, but Max is buzzed enough that she’s still having a good time. She and El had just finished destroying Mike and Dustin in a game of pong and now she was standing with Lucas and Dustin to one side of the room after Mike and El had disappeared to dance.

Dustin drains the last of his drink and looks in both Lucas and Max’s cups. They’re both nearly done too so Dustin taps the bottoms of them to encourage them to finish. Max tips hers back, swallowing the last of the cheap beer and passes it to Dustin with a sly grin. Lucas follows her lead.

“I shall return fair maiden and sir,” Dustin says jokingly as he takes all three cups and vanishes to the back of the house, leaving Max and Lucas alone.

Lucas opens his mouth to say something, but as he does, the rap song abruptly changes to an AC/DC song that Max doesn’t completely hate and she grins.

“Wanna dance, Stalker?”

Lucas gives her a lopsided smile. “Sure thing, Mad Max.”

She grabs his hand and tugs him to the edge of the dance floor. Her hands land on his shoulders as she shimmies to the pounding beat, singing along with the rest of the party. Lucas’s hands find her waist and they move together. He doesn’t sing, but Max notices his eyes don’t leave her face at all and he looks happy. The dance makes her deliriously happy: she’s drunk and dancing with her friend/neighbour/definitely crush and it’s a good night.

Everything is going great right up until the moment she feels a pair of firm hands fall deliberately onto her ass. Max wheels around, hands flying up to shove the guy molesting her, but they meet a solid chest and the guy doesn’t budge.

“What the hell?” she demands angrily. “Keep your hands to yourself, asshole.”

The guy smirks and looks her up and down, eyes lingering on the deep scoop of her shirt. “Hey, an ass like this should be dancing with a guy who actually knows how to please a girl,” he drawls casually. His hands mimic an hourglass shape in front of him and Max is barely able to restrain from punching him right then and there.

She can feel Lucas go rigid with fury behind her and his voice is like glass when he speaks. “Back off, Troy.”

Troy, the douche, smirks and eyes Lucas. “What, Sinclair, scared she’s gonna slip out with a real man?”

Max scoffs loudly. “Unlikely.”

Troy’s smug look flickers. “Come on, babe, let me give you a real ride.” He reaches for her as if to grab her hips, and Lucas steps up quickly, snagging Troy’s hand at the wrist.

“Touch her again,” he says coldly. Troy’s eyebrow lifts. “What are you gonna do about it, Sinclair?” His other hand drifts forward and Max steps back instinctively.

Just as she steps back, Lucas steps around her and decks Troy clean in the face. The douche recoils sharply, swearing. Lucas is rigid in front of her and Troy manages to get a clean swing back at him, catching the side of his face. Lucas jerks away from the punch and Troy goes for his stomach. His defensive body positioning saves him from the brunt of the blow, but Max can still hear the sick thus it makes against his stomach. She winces and Lucas crumples back from the hit. She reaches to steady him, and his hands grip onto her arms tightly as he swears darkly.

Max fixes Troy with a wicked glare and is glad to see that Lucas’s shot got his nose which is bleeding and looks a little crooked. Just as it looks like the douche is about to go after Lucas again, his arm is caught by Dustin on the backswing. Max has never been so glad to see the rest of their friends in her entire life. Dustin and Mike are at the front, twin images of anger and El, Will, and Joe stand just behind them.

“What going on?” Mike asks, his voice sharp as he glares at Troy. “Don’t you have high schoolers to prey on or something?”

Dustin’s drops Troy’s arm and the bully jerks away, quickly noticing he’s outnumbered. He gives Max and Lucas one last dark look. “Crazy bitch isn’t even worth my time,” Troy growls before he disappears into the crowd.

Max tenses at the insult, but she can feel Lucas’s body go rigid with offence and she squeezes his arms to ground him. “He’s a dick, Lucas, it’s fine.”

Lucas stands up straight, glaring after where he disappeared to. “It’s not fine. Troy’s been harassing us since we were kids and he probably wouldn’t have even gone after you if he hadn’t seen us together.”

El shakes her head. “It’s not your fault Lucas, we all know what Troy is like.” Lucas scowls and turns his head slightly away from Max.

Will frowns suddenly. “Jesus, Lucas, how hard did he hit you?”

Max’s head snaps in Will’s direction and she sees that he and the rest of the party are admiring the split skin and developing mark on the top part of Lucas’s cheekbone. She frowns. “Anyone know where we can get some ice for that?”

Joe clears his throat. “Will and I were actually gonna head back to my suite and I know we have some in our freezer. You guys are welcome to crash there if you’d like.” Max nods. She doesn’t much feel like crossing campus in the dark at night since Joe’s apartment-style suite is much closer.

“You’re okay with this many people?”

“Mike and I can go to my dorm. It’s close by,” El says quickly.

“And I already promised Suzie I’d walk her home, so I’ll crash there,” Dustin adds.

Will shrugs. “We can figure out a makeshift mattress for one of you and the other can take the couch.”

Lucas eyes Max. “You good with that?”

Max shrugs, giving him a small smirk. “No problems here, Stalker. We do need to get some ice on that though.”

-

With plans set and the party winding down, Max follows Joe and Will out of the house, Lucas on her heels. The couple leads the way, Joe’s arm dropped over Will’s shoulders as they chat quietly, leaving Max with Lucas who has barely spoken to her since decking Troy.

The walk back to Joe’s is only a few minutes. Joe’s actual roommate, he informs them, barely lived in the suite, hence why there would be no issues. Will almost immediately disappears to Joe’s bedroom, looking like he was going to collapse. Joe points out the freezer and then follows his boyfriend, also looking drained.

Max and Lucas are left standing in the kitchen alone. The light down the hall clicks off, confirming that there was going to be no funny business from the boys because they were tired. Max then immediately turns to the freezer, looking for an ice pack.

Contrary to Joe’s statement, there is actually no ice the freezer; however, there is a bag of frozen peas which she passes to Lucas. Lucas accepts it and moves to sit on the couch in the suite. He stares blankly at the coffee table as he holds the peas to his face and Max frowns.

“Thank you, Lucas, for sticking up for me. You really didn’t need to punch him though,” she says after a long, awkward moment.

Lucas’s warm eyes flick to her. He shrugs, keeping the frozen veggie’s attaches to his cheekbone. “I kind of did. I’ve wanted to punch Troy since like third grade and the guy is a total asshole to girls.”

Max chuckles darkly and walks out of the kitchen. “No argument from me there.”

Lucas lets out a deep sigh. “I hate guys like that. Those who take advantage of girls or look down on people because they’re girls or they’re gay or–“ he cuts himself off suddenly, his gaze dark.

Max licks her lips. “Black?” she offers quietly. Lucas nods.

He sighs again. “Hey, it’s better than it used to be.”

She drops onto the couch next to him. “And thank god for that.” She pauses. “I’m sorry people still treat you like that.”

“As long as you never do, then you have nothing to apologize for.” Billy’s face and her stepfather’s face flare across her memory and the rage they’d displayed when they’d met Angela, Max’s only person of colour friend in California. She swallows and looks at Lucas again. She gets an eye full of frozen veggies covering dark skin and a curious look in return.

“Let me see it,” she says, reaching up to pull the peas away. As she does she sees the raised edges of where the skin split and the slightly puffy, shiny skin where he was hit. His dark complexion is helpful in hiding the bruising, but the purple shading is already filling in, so the shiner is going to be good and obvious anyway.

Max laughs wryly. “God, if you were at least white like the rest of us losers I could help you cover that, but I don’t think ivory shade foundation is going to be much of a help. Not even my neutralizes will help you.”

Lucas blinks slowly at her, confusion muddling his expression. “Max, why do you know so much about covering bruises?”

She tenses. “Skateboarding,” she replies instinctively, but the look on Lucas’s face tells her that he doesn’t buy it for a minute.

“Does this,” he pauses, his tone even and cautious, “have anything to do with why you didn’t go home for Thanksgiving and why you don’t talk about Christmas break?”

Max doesn’t reply, dropping her gaze to the floor. She doesn’t want his pity and shame floods through her hotly. She doesn’t want him to look at her like some wounded animal. Lucas sighs when she doesn’t reply and she feels his arm drape over her shoulders as he pulls her into a sideways hug.

“Jesus Christ, Max, I don’t even know what to say.”

“Just don’t say anything then,” she says shortly. She leans into him, letting her head rest against his collarbone. “Don’t say anything.”

He adjusts his arms around her, but says nothing.

-

Max wakes up warm in the morning and her left arm is completely numb. She jerks it, trying to get feeling back before she blinks harshly and realizes her nose is pressed into the red-checked pattern of the shirt Lucas had been wearing the night prior. She realizes they’re awkwardly positioned on the too-small couch, wrapped together with their legs entangled and that’s why she can’t feel her arm.

She elbows him. “Lucas,” she hisses. “Wake up, Stalker.”

He stirs beneath her and blinks half-asleep eyes at her when he comes to. “Hey Mad Max, what’s up?”

She squirms against him and slides her arm free, but the action nearly sends her toppling off the couch, and Lucas squeezes her against his chest to steady her. She blushes at the close proximity and intentionally draws away. She slides off the couch and stretches her arms above her head. She hears him yawn and sit up behind her.

It’s not like they haven’t fallen asleep together on Saturdays during their movie nights, but they’ve never woken up quite as entangled as that before. It felt personal and incredibly domestic, and as much as she tries to deny it, it felt comforting and nice.

She reaches out to check her phone and her heart sinks when she sees that Billy has sent her several texts.

Remember what I said over the break.

No unsavoury types or I swear they’ll never know what hit them.

Billy’s threats are so thinly veiled they might as well as punched her in the face. He’s stalked her on Facebook before and he’s clearly seen the pictures of Lucas and her grinning and laughing at the arcade. Panic seizes Max’s chest and she almost forgets how to breathe. For a moment, it doesn’t matter that Billy is across the entire country because all she can see is Troy the douche decking Lucas in the face for having the audacity to defend Max.

She must look like she’s been tased or something because Lucas coughs lightly. “Max, are you alright?”

“Fine,” she says shortly. Her voice is flat and unconvincing, but her heart is racing and fear holds her tightly. “I’ve got somewhere to be though, so I have to run. Thank Will and Joe for me, okay?” She doesn’t turn to face him–she can’t–as she heads for the door and jerks on her shoes and coat.

“Hey! Max, wait!” Lucas calls after her, stumbling tiredly off the couch.

She doesn’t pause, just turns and bolts out the door.

-

Max is only back in her room for fifteen minutes before someone’s knocking on it. She hopes it’s El or Dustin or Mike or even the stupid floor RA, but the knocking persists when she ignores it and her stomach sinks.

“Max!” Lucas calls. “Come on, open the door!”

He keeps up the incessant knocking for five whole minutes before Max loses her patience. She swings the door open suddenly and Lucas has to physically stop himself before he smacks her in the face trying to knock. He seems taken aback that she actually opened the door.

He’s still wearing the same rumpled clothes from the night before and the gleaming bruise on his face is painfully obvious in the cheap lighting of the hallway. Concern is written all over his expression and Max has to stop herself from slamming the door in his face.

“Hey, can we talk about what the hell that was at Joe’s?” he asks once he seems certain that she’s not going to slam the door.

Max exhales slowly. “I had a call to make,” she lies through her teeth.

Lucas frowns. “I didn’t push you last night Max, so don’t lie to me.”

She exhales slowly, closing her eyes. “I don’t think we can be friends anymore,” she says shortly.

Lucas blows his breath out through his nose, looking confused and a little annoyed. “What the hell, Max? We’ve been friends for seven months and you just want to cut me off?” She must hesitate long enough that Lucas knows something is really wrong because he doesn’t let her reply. “This is obviously not coming from you, so if I did something last night or this morning that was out of line, tell me because I don’t have a clue! I thought everything was going great and last night I might have actually freaking kissed you before the whole Troy thing happened, but apparently, I read that situation all wrong too!” He sounds more frustrated than angry and when she looks at him, the emotions are written all over his face.

She loves Lucas. She loves how he wears his heart on his sleeve. She loves his quirky jokes and biting sarcasm that matches her own. She loves his dedication to his friends and his no-shit-taken personality. He’s funny and clever and a whole lot better than someone as fucked up as she is deserves.

“No,” she says weakly. “You don’t get to say that,” she insists.

Lucas glares at her, but there’s no malice behind it. “And why not? Because it’s true? Why are you so afraid to admit that we’ve had something for long enough that everyone seems to know it except us?”

Max’s heart breaks. “Because you can’t like me! Because I’m all kinds of fucked up! Because I’ll never be able to bring you over to my house to visit or to meet my family because they’d beat the shit out of both of us because they’re horrible people! Because your family showed me more kindness in one weekend than I can remember in my entire childhood and your friends have made this place more home to me than the state I lived my entire goddamn life. Because I don’t know how to protect you when people attack you for being who you are or how to thank someone for sticking up for me like you did. Because I don’t know how to love you without hurting you because everyone who ever fucking loves me gets hurt!”

The words are sharp and biting and feel unfamiliar on her tongue, but they’re undeniably the truth and the confession is written there, plain for him to see. Lucas is silent, eyes blown wide, and clearly taken aback. Max counts to ten silently in her head and when he doesn’t move, she turns to close the door.

It’s almost all the way closed when his hand shoots out to grab it. He forces it back open and steps into her room. Instead of pity and fear like she had expected, his gaze is warm and affectionate. His hands grip her upper arms and she forces herself to meet his gaze.

“Mad Max, I don’t care about any of that. Your family sounds like a bunch of assholes that I don’t ever need to concern myself with. I’m not afraid to be with you because you think you’re broken because I look at you and I just see this girl who’s witty and smart and beautiful and I think, ‘Damn she’s something else’, because I like you, Max. The Party loves you, my family loved you, and you’re not just some passing thing in my life. I would take a million punches from Troy for you and I would spend a million lifetimes trying to show you how loved you are. Because you are, Max, because I love you.”

Lucas’s confession is honest and open and something in Max’s chest breaks and everything comes to a stop. She rocks forwards and kisses him hard. His hands slide up to cup her face as he kisses her back fiercely. Billy and Neil and Troy and every other stupid, racist, sexist, asshole she’s ever met leave her brain as she wraps her arms around Lucas and kisses him until she can’t breathe because he is real and he loves her.

She pulls back, gasping, but Lucas keeps their bodies in the same space, breathing hard. Max presses her forehead to his. Her heart pounds and she swears that she can hear his beating too.

It’s not perfect and it’s not easy, but she loves him. She loves him more than rockstars, and skateboards, and old fashioned arcades, and California, and sarcasm. She loves their friends and Indiana and every stupid movie he’s ever played for her.

And he loves her. And it’s enough.

#the writing section #stranger things #lumax #st #st3 #f: stranger things #ship: lumax #c: lucas sincliar #c: max mayfield #c: eleven #c: dustin henderson #c: mike wheeler #c: will byer #ship: mileven #g: romance #g: friendship #words: 7.3k+ #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #st fic #stranger things fic #lucas x max #so i finished season 3 again

[insideoutstory]

Inside Out → Chapter Six

summary: Christine is still hoping everything with Nancy and Steve will blow over. She couldn’t be more wrong. word count: 4.7k warnings: Teen Angst™ [ masterlist ]   [ FF.net ]

“And in Roane County, the search for Will Byers has developed into a full-fledged investigation. The twelve-year-old boy was reported missing by his family yesterday morning, and the Hawkins Police Force has been organizing search parties throughout the night. Police have yet to release an official statement of their findings, though one bystander told reporters they saw two officers exiting the woods with a child’s bike sometime late afternoon. For more on this story, we…” 

Christine turned off the television with more force than was necessary. It hadn’t truly processed until she’d woken up the next morning. A kid gone missing in a small town like Hawkins. A kid that she knew—knew well enough anyway. She’d watched Will play Dungeons and Dragons with his friends, raced him home with Dustin, snuck him extra candy when he went to the movies with his mom. The news ran stories about missing kids all the time, and sure it was sad, but it had never really affected her. Now just seeing Will’s picture, smiling without care or worry, made her stomach feel a bit queasy. 

She collected her school things earlier than usual, going to knock on the Henderson’s door. 

“Come in!” Mrs. Henderson was already bustling around the front room, her coat on and her car keys in hand. “Oh, there you are, Christine. Thank you so much for doing this.” 

“No problem, Claudia. Where’s Dustin?” 

“He should be out in a minute. Dusty! Christine is waiting for you! Let’s go!” 

“I KNOW! I’m MOVING!” 

“Heading into work early?” Christine asked, watching Mrs. Henderson slip on her shoes. 

“Yes. I’m hoping to sneak out a few minutes early and head down to the station to help with the search party. Now, Dustin’s going to the Wheelers’ after school—they were all so insistent on those radios—so you don’t have to worry about bringing him home. I do want you to be careful though. Maybe you could go with them and spend some time with Nancy?” 

“Uh, yeah, I’ll figure something out,” Christine said airily. “I might go down to the station myself. It feels kind of weird sitting at home with everything that’s going on.” 

“Oh, alright. Just be careful. Please!” 

Dustin came bursting out of the hallway, tripping over himself as he rushed for the door. 

“Come on, people! Let’s move it! I don’t wanna be late! Love you, Mom! See you later! Chop chop, Christine!”

Christine shared a dubious look with Mrs. Henderson, but followed Dustin out into the driveway. “What’s got you in such a tizzy?” 

“My education, Christine. Sorry for thinking school is important.” 

The statement was punctuated with a sneeze so powerful that Dustin nearly knocked himself over. Christine raised an eyebrow. 

“Bless you.” 

“Thanks.” 

They started off toward the middle school, moving faster than they normally would have. Dustin wasn’t looping around at the corners to wait for her anymore, and more than once he completely blew through a stop sign. She didn’t comment at first, but after he hydroplaned through a giant puddle and nearly lost control, she had to put the proverbial brakes on. 

“Alright, what the hell is going on with you?” she demanded, pulling up on his right. “You have got to slow down, Dust.” 

“No can do. Gotta get to school.” 

“What is so important that you can’t stop at a stop sign?” 

“Learning!” he insisted. Dustin sneezed again, his bike veering dangerously as he fought to recover. “And I’ve gotta talk to Mike and Lucas. Party meeting. Confidential.” 

“Uh-huh.” She narrowed her eyes at him, unimpressed. “You went out last night, didn’t you?” 

“What? No! That’s crazy! Why would you say something like that?” 

“Because you lie like your pants are in a permanent state of combustion.” 

Dustin turned to her with a wide grin. “That was a good one.” 

“Thank you. Did you sneak out last night?” 

“Yeah,” he said reluctantly, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “And it was raining. And now I’m sick.” 

“Not to be an asshole, but you kind of earned it.” 

“Are you gonna tell my mom?” 

“Depends,” said Christine with a steady glare. “Are you going out again tonight?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” 

“Then I don’t know. Maybe I will.” 

For a few blocks, they biked in silence. Dustin kept his eyes forward, pouting at the ground. Christine wanted to stand her ground, leave her disciplinary action to stand on its own. But it was always uncomfortable when Dustin went quiet. She didn’t like seeing him upset. 

“Did you find anything?” she prodded. “When you went investigating?” 

“Nothing that will help us find Will,” he said, defeated. 

“Anything interesting?” 

“Do you think there are really crazy people at Pennhurst?” 

“I—What?” Christine blinked. “Pennhurst?” 

“Yeah, the asylum in Kerley County. Lucas says there’s a lot of psychos there. Like, Michael Myers psychos.” 

She stared at him, trying to gauge whether or not he was serious. “You think Michael Myers took Will?” 

“Don’t be stupid, Christine,” he complained. “If Michael Myers got to Will, we would have found his body by now. This is a completely separate conversation.” 

“Okay, uh… Do I think there are crazy people in the mental facility in Kerley County? Yeah, I think there are probably a few.” 

“Nuts,” said Dustin, shaking his head. 

Nothing more was said of the subject. 

Christine dropped Dustin off at the front doors to the middle school, staying to watch him park his bike and double check his backpack for his books. She grabbed him by the arm before he headed inside, forcing him to face her. 

“Listen. I know you want to find Will. But you can’t just go running around after dark when nobody knows where you are. That’s exactly how Will got lost in the first place.” 

“I know,” he said sheepishly. “But the party can’t abandon him. What if he needs us?” 

“Then you should probably be taking care of yourself, shouldn’t you?” She ruffled his curls, and sighed. “I know you’re probably not gonna listen to me. But seriously, Dust. If you guys decide to go out looking for Will, tell me, okay? I don’t want you out there alone.” 

Dustin finally looked up at her, a small smile showing the gap at his gums. “You’ll come with us?” 

“We’ll see. But you have to be honest with me.” 

“Okay. Promise.” 

“Good. Now get going.” 

She shoved his shoulder lightly, pushing him toward the building. He waved as he hopped up the steps, but Christine waited until he was safely inside before turning around and heading for the high school. 

In retrospect, she probably should have left earlier. The high school parking lot was almost empty when she got there—full of cars, but devoid of people. The warning bell rang inside, and Christine cursed under her breath. She was late. 

She stashed her bike, fumbling with her backpack as she sifted through the contents. She wouldn’t have time to stop at her locker, but she had most of her morning assignments with her. Some of the textbooks she might be able to share, and she could always write notes in a different notebook and just transfer...

“Ouch!” 

A collision knocked Christine off her feet, and she just barely avoided toppling to the pavement. A hand grabbed her arm to steady her, then released her almost immediately. 

“Sorry! Sorry, I didn’t mean—…” 

“Jonathan, hey.” Christine gripped the bike rack, rolling her ankle around until she was sure she could put weight on it. “Sorry, that was my fault. I’m late so…shit.” 

Christine looked at the ground, where thirty or forty flyers were scattered around. Will’s face stared up at her, the same picture they were using on the news. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” She bent down to help him, grabbing franticly at everything in her reach before the wind could pick up. “Sorry, uh, here…” 

“Not, it’s cool, uh…thanks.” 

He stood up, not meeting her eye as he straightened the pile of flyers in his arms. Christine straightened the books in her backpack, and shuffled her feet. They stood there until the final bell rang inside, jolting them both. 

“Sorry I made you late,” he offered. 

“Oh no, not you. I took Dustin all the way to school this morning, so I was already doomed.” 

Jonathan nodded. “Yeah, that’s—that was probably a good idea.” 

“You skipping again today?” 

“Yeah. My mom kinda needs me at home and the police still have a bunch of questions and stuff, so…” 

“Hey, do…do you wanna give me some of the flyers?” she asked, gesturing at the stack. “I could put some up around school, maybe go down to the shops later. If you wanted some help.” 

“That’d be great, actually, yeah.” He nodded, peeling off a few and handing them to her. “Thanks, Christine.” 

“Yeah, you got it.” Christine nodded, fiddling with the strap of her bag. “If there’s anything else I can do, let me know. I know all the boys are…well, Dustin’s freaked. But Will’s probably the smartest of all of them. So, if you need anything…or your mom or something…” 

“Thanks,” he said again. “Yeah, I—I will.” 

“Cool.” She nodded again, backing away toward the school. “I’ll see you around. Uh…hang in there.” 

She quickly ducked through the double doors, speed-walking toward homeroom. She scrunched up her face, wiggling her nose in an effort to shake the awkwardness that was clinging to her like a cobweb. She’d always kind of known Jonathan Byers, but they were a far cry from friends. And she felt for him, she did. But her morning definitely could have gone without that painful interaction. 

“Miss Walcott,” Ms. Snider greeted, pausing in her announcements as Christine slunk into the room. “Glad you finally decided to arrive.” 

“Sorry, Ms. Snider. Just trying to pitch in.” 

She held up the stack of flyers, and the woman’s face immediately softened. “Alright, well try and keep it between classes next time.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

She hurried to her seat, waving off Barb and Nancy’s concerned glances. 

“Pitching in?” Barb echoed once they were all safely in the hallway. 

“It worked, didn’t it?” Christine picked out a poster, taking it up on a corkboard as they passed. “Free hall pass.” 

“Real classy,” said Nancy dryly. 

“Hey, I’m worried about Will. We all are. Besides, makes me feel better about my whole stinted conversation with Byers.” 

“Is that why you were late?” asked Barb. 

“Nah. Ferrying Dustin to school, just making sure he got in okay.” 

“I still don’t get why you don’t just make it official and actually babysit him,” she said, shaking her head. “I mean, with the amount of time you spend over there, you could make serious bank on that kid.” 

“Well maybe I just like pitching in,” Christine replied with a grin. She dodged as Barb attempted to bump her into the lockers. 

“Well do you have to pitch in tonight?” asked Nancy. 

“I don’t know yet. The boys are supposed to end up at your place.” 

“Do you wanna come with them? We could just hang out for a while, watch a movie.” 

“You sure?” Christine asked. “You don’t have more…I don’t know. Studying to do?” 

“No,” Nancy said quickly. “I mean, Kamisky’s test is today, so. And I—I actually did a lot of studying last night so…I’m totally good to go. Any movie. Your pick.” 

Christine didn’t miss the insinuation, but no one seemed ready to acknowledge it plainly. Nancy’s face remained hopeful, and Barb was suddenly extremely interested in the various flyers on the message board. Even when Christine cleared her throat, she refused to look at either of them. 

“Uh, maybe,” said Christine carefully. “Like I said, I’m kind of on Dustin duty. So it depends on the party.” 

“The party, right. I get it. Just let me know, okay?” 

Christine nodded, peeling off toward her own class. The awkward cobweb feeling was itching at her again, but she pushed it aside. Things with Nancy would go back to normal eventually. 

The rest of the day was relatively normal, until it was time for physics. She wasn’t dreading it as much as yesterday. She hadn’t been as firm with Steve as she’d intended to be, but she was certain she’d sent a clear message not to talk to her. If only to save her the pain of humiliation. They could go back to being minimally friendly lab partners, and that would be the end of it. 

Mr. Austin already had lab supplies out when class began. Christine picked up a lab sheet and headed to her table, scanning through the assignment and collecting the materials they’d need. She decided to get started on her own, since Steve was busy at the next table over talking to one of his basketball teammates. 

Lab periods were ideal because they were the only times you could actually have a conversation in class. With everyone talking at once, it was nearly impossible to tell who was talking about science and who was gossiping about the next big game. So long as the work got done, it didn’t really matter. Most people loved that benefit. It didn’t really matter to Christine, who rarely had anyone to talk to, and usually did most of the work. 

“So, what are we doing today?” Steve asked when he finally joined her at the table. 

“Magnetic lab. Compasses work based on the natural field of…” 

“Psh, not the lab,” he interrupted, propping his elbows on the desk. “I’m talking about you. What are you doing tonight?” 

Christine paused, eyeing him. “…Why?” 

“Well you’re not the only one whose parents go away.” 

“No, Steve.” 

“Come on,” he groaned, pulling the meter stick out of her hands. He twirled it lamely like a baton. “I know the last party you went to wasn’t exactly phenomenal, but this is totally different.” 

“No, it’s not.” She tried to swipe the meter stick back, but he twirled it out of her reach. Christine huffed. “How is this any different?” 

“Well, for one, it’s me. And it’s not gonna be a hundred people. Just four or five of us, chilling at my place. Tell me you’re in.” 

“I’m out.” She made another grab, but missed. “Steve, I’m serious. I’m not interested.” 

“Why not? It’s gonna be fun.” 

“Why should I?” she demanded. “Hm? We don’t talk, Steve. Why are you suddenly so interested in inviting me over to your place?” 

“I told you,” he said, looking slightly taken aback. “I think you need to loosen up.” 

“Thanks. I’ll take it under advisement.” 

Christine leaned around him, seizing the measuring stick and slamming it back on the table. She turned back to the lab report and tried to find where she’d left off in the instructions. The words didn’t make much sense when she was reading them so quickly, but anything was better than looking at that stupid, smug face. 

Steve sidled around beside her. He shifted the various magnets on the desk aimlessly, then ducked his head closer to hers. 

“Alright, you wanna know the real reason I’m inviting you?” he asked lowly. “But you gotta be cool. This is just between us.” 

Christine glared at him out of the corner of her eye. 

“I’m serious, Christine. You cannot say anything.” 

“Fine. Why?” 

“Nancy asked me to invite you.” 

“Nancy?” Christine looked up from the paper, finally turning to him. “You already asked her?” 

“Yeah, this morning,” he said with a shrug. “I told her I was having some people over, and she said that she didn’t want to come if it was just gonna be me and my friends. I told her she could bring you and the other girl, but she said I had to ask you myself. And then that I wasn’t allowed to tell you that she told me. Whatever that’s about.” 

It took a few seconds for her rage to sneak up on her. But once it did, it was difficult to hide her fuming. Both her hands clenched into fists, and if she was squeezing any tighter, she might have ripped her paper in half. Steve must have noticed the warning signs, because he quickly waved a hand. 

“Hey, that’s not to say I don’t want you to come. I wouldn’t invite you if I didn’t want you there. But Nancy was going on last night about how close you two are, and…” 

“Last night.” 

She’d already known. But just like her conversation with Barb, she hoped he would correct her. 

“Yeah,” he said plainly. “I was at her place to uh…help her study.” 

Christine nodded, grinning furiously at her lab. She forced a deep breath through her lungs, and grabbed for the compass on the table. Science. She needed to do science. 

But Steve grabbed her wrist and pried the instrument from her hands. 

“Look, is it a crime to wanna hang out with my lab partner?” he asked. “No ulterior motives, no weirdness. I just figured it’d be more fun that way. You know, your friends and my friends.” 

He sounded earnest. But it was a tone she was getting used to. And this time, it wouldn’t work. 

“I get it, Steve,” she assured him, her face composed in a sweet smile. “Seriously. I completely understand.” 

“Sweet. So you’re coming?” 

“Still no.” Steve groaned, and Christine smiled wider. “You can tell Nancy I was very flattered and distraught, but I’m babysitting tonight. I’m sure if you ask nicely she’ll still come.” 

“Babysitting?” He scoffed, tapping her on the nose with the compass. “Damn, Walcott. You really don’t know how to relax, do you? Anyone ever tell you you’re kinda a buzzkill?” 

“Nope. Usually I’m such a buzzkill no one wants to talk to me.” There was a beat of silence, and Christine eased the compass out of Steve’s hands. “That was a joke.” 

“Oh, shit.” He relaxed a bit, and Christine was amused to find a twinge of relief in his chuckle. “You had me going there for a second. I didn’t know you could joke.” 

“Can we get back to the lab now? Please?” 

Steve was reluctant, but eventually relented into doing the work. It was a pretty simple lab, a lot of repetitive work and recording numbers. Slide the magnet toward the compass, record. Slide the magnet toward the compass, record again. That was ideal for Steve, since it didn’t require a lot of complex theories. It was ideal for Christine because she wouldn’t be distracted from the fury that was brewing inside her chest. 

When class was over, Christine headed straight to the gymnasium. She hadn’t brought lunch today, but it didn’t matter. She’d gladly go hungry if it meant skipping the cafeteria. 

She leaned back on the tiger mural, turning her Walkman on like she had the day before. For a few songs, Billy Joel was loud enough to drown out the basketball game behind her. But there was nothing he could do to protect her from the nudge against her foot. 

Christine stopped humming abruptly, opening her eyes to see a recognizable pair of brown loafers. 

“Hey, Nance,” she greeted, pulling her headphones down around her neck. “What’s up?” 

“You tell me,” said Nancy. She peered down at Christine, her face not quite impartial. “You’re the one skipping lunch to brood by the gymnasium.” 

“I’m not brooding,” she defended. It was a weak argument at best. “How’d you find me anyway?” 

“Wasn’t hard. Figured I’d start in the last place you’d actually want to be, seeing as you’re avoiding me.” 

Christine didn’t bother arguing that point. She shrugged, stowing her Walkman away in her bag. “Just wanted some time to think.” 

“About?” 

“I don’t know, life? In case you haven’t noticed, things have been a little hectic lately.” 

“Yeah, I guess they have.” Nancy frowned. Her fingers wandered the strap of her messenger bag. “You know you can talk to me, though, right? If something’s bothering you?” 

Christine stared at her shoes—beaten, mud streaked tennis shoes next to Nancy’s shiny penny loafers. The cobwebs were back, inching over her cheeks and prickling at the back of her throat. And after two days of swallowing her feelings, she finally snapped. 

“When were you gonna tell me?” 

“Tell you what?” Nancy asked, innocence slathered over the words. 

“About the party. Tonight. Were you just gonna let me think that Steve invited me for real? We were just gonna go to your house and you’d pretend you were just tagging along again? Until Carol or Tommy said something stupid, and then I’d make a scene in front of everyone.” 

“Christine, it wasn’t like that,” Nancy said imploringly. “Really! I just thought, you know, since you’ve been so upset the last couple days…” 

“What? That asking your boyfriend to pretend to care about me was gonna make me feel better?” 

“He’s not my boyfriend,” she said quickly. “And he does care. He said it would be fine! The more the merrier.” 

“Of course that’s what he said to you.” 

Nancy leaned against the wall, and Christine could feel her looking down on her even though she didn’t lift her head. The loafer nudged her knee this time, pleading. 

“Then forget Steve. Do it for me. I really want you to come, Christine. You and Barb. I don’t want to get stuck talking to Tommy and Carol again all night. It’s gonna be so weird. I need you there. Please.” 

She wouldn’t respond. She wouldn’t look up. The loafer kicked her again. 

“Besides, it’s a party at Steve Harrington’s house,” Nancy added with a giggle. “That’s like your dream. You cannot turn that…” 

“Will you shut up?” 

Christine jumped to her feet, snatching up her bag and rounding on Nancy. She was still standing against the wall, shocked and floundering. It made derisive laughter bubble from Christine’s throat. 

“Don’t you get it? Things are not the same anymore! We’re not just gonna go back to normal!” 

“Chris, what are you talking about?” 

“You and Steve!” She carded both of her hands through her hair, gripping it at the scalp. “Are you even listening to yourself? We can’t fangirl over him together like there’s nothing going on. You can’t use him as bait for me when you’re already dating him!” 

“I am not!” 

“You’re not what?” 

“I don’t—both! I’m not baiting you, and I am not dating Steve.” 

“No,” Christine laughed. “So Steve didn’t sneak into your room to hook up with you last night?” 

Nancy flushed, clamping her mouth shut. But she did not argue. Christine sneered victoriously. 

“Yeah, I bet you aced Kaminsky’s test. For sure.” 

“He really did help me study,” Nancy insisted. “He’s not as shallow as you make him out to be.” 

“See, that’s what I thought too. You know, I really thought he gave a crap. That somewhere behind all his popular friends and his jock persona, there was actually a nice person. But it’s just a mask, Nancy. He’s just asking me over to his house to make sure you feel comfortable enough to come. Just like he asked me to Jenny’s party to get you there, or he visits me at work to make sure I do his physics labs. And now you’re doing the same exact thing. You’re just trying to play on my crush on him to get what you want. Looks like you and Steve have a lot more in common than I thought.” 

Nancy was staring at her, tight lipped. 

“Look,” she started, her words slow and controlled. “I know you’re upset about Jenny Fischer’s party. But you do not get to put that on me. You’re supposed to be my friend. Would it kill you to be happy for me for like two seconds?” 

“Oh my God!” Christine cackled again, spinning on the spot. She advanced on Nancy so rapidly that the other girl took a step back. “That is—That is rich. Because you know the best part? You don’t even care! You don’t care how he used me so long as you’re the one who gets to make out with him. How’s that for friendship?” 

“Oh, and you’re so much better?” Nancy snapped. “You’re not even mad at him!” 

“Didn’t you hear what I said? Yes, I…” 

“No, Chrissy, you’re not. Because if you really hated him, you wouldn’t be this upset with me. So what? I’m supposed to hate him for what he did to my friend, and you get to forgive him cause he did it to you? And then you’re the only one who gets to like him? Really convenient.” 

“It’s not a switch, Nancy,” Christine spat, glowering at her. “I can’t just stop liking Steve, or just stop being hurt, or just stop being upset that he doesn’t like me too. So I know you’re waiting for me to break out the bouquet and confetti for you, but it’s never gonna happen if you keep dangling your stupid boyfriend in front of my face.” 

“He’s not my boyfriend! And I’m not dangling him!” 

“Right, of course not. My mistake. What do you call tricking me into coming to another stupid house party so I can make an idiot of myself and you two can make out in front of me?” 

“I was just trying to be nice!” 

“Oh, like you were so nice at Jenny’s party?” 

“That was not my fault!” 

“You didn’t have to kiss him!” 

“And he didn’t have to kiss me!” Nancy finally took a step forward, lowering her voice to a near growl. “You’re just jealous, Christine. And it’s pathetic. You’re jealous, and whiny, and pissed, because even though you spend so much time following him around and desperately trying to get him to notice you, Steve likes me and not you.” 

It hit her like a slap. Christine was certain she’d actually stopped breathing. The momentary lapse of control must have been why her lip began to tremble, why her eyes began to fill with furious tears. She could not believe she was standing here, outside the gym, crying because of Nancy Wheeler of all people. What kind of idiot was she? 

Nancy realized too late that she’d taken it a step too far. She muttered Christine’s name, took another step forward, but Christine held up a hand. 

“You’re right,” she managed, though the words were even shakier than her hands. “I am jealous, you’re right. And maybe I am pathetic. But you know what? You’re a bitch. Screw you, Nancy.” 

She turned and walked away. Nancy might have been calling her, but her pulse was so loud in her own ears that it was impossible to tell. She didn’t have the energy to run, didn’t have a destination in mind. She just walked away, praying Nancy wouldn’t come after her, and that this time, she might be allowed a few minutes to cry in peace.

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #ocappreciation #stranger things oc #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington/oc #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington/reader #chapters #chapter 6 #inside out

[alanaswriting]

Two Of Us

Jonathan Byers x Reader

Request: Hey, please could I request a Jonathan Byers x reader imagine where Jonathan and y/n know each other from photography and y/n babysits all of the boys a lot and she's always really kind to Will and all of the other boys and Jonathan's literally been in love with her for years and Joyce can tell by the way he lights up whenever he sees her, but he doesn't know that she loves him back. Will keeps encouraging him to tell her, and one day in the dark room they both confess and kiss? Is this okay?💙

masterlist

Word Count: 4,700 ish

Warnings: shitty writing lmao

A/N: i love this request, it’s absolutely adorable and I’ve been looking forward to writing it! I’m sorry it took so long and that it kinda sucks. I got a little bit of writers block writing this so it’s a mess!

Please don’t steal, plagiarize or repost my writing. I work really hard on my writing as I imagine all writers do and it would suck to find out someone else is trying to claim it as theirs.

ー

*Click!*

“Jonathan!” You groan and cover your face embarrassingly.

Joyce had invited you over to babysit the boys for a little while as she went out on date night with Bob, she said something about Jonathan being busy that night so he couldn’t. Jonathan wasn’t suppose to be home until around 9pm but he got home early and you’d already ordered a pizza and rented a few movies for you and the boys to watch that Friday night so you weren’t going home now. You were staying until you got your money’s worth of rented VHS tapes and overly priced pizzas worth. Plus you didn’t mind hanging out with Jonathan for a few.

You’d had a crush on the older Byer’s boy for quite some time now but you never acted upon it. You had that small fear in the back of your mind that he didn’t like you back and it was more than enough to keep you from doing anything about it. You couldn’t risk making things awkward or uncomfortable considering you babysat the boys often, saw Jonathan in school constantly, and bumped into him in the dark room a lot since you were both interested in photography. Plus you were friends, good friends in your opinion. Risking losing him just didn’t seem worth it.

Jonathan was currently taking a few photos testing out the new camera Nancy and Steve had gotten him to replace the one Steve smashed what felt like forever ago, unfortunately due to the fact you were the only one slightly willing to let him try it out Jonathan was testing it on you. He was having fun and despite you covering your face and telling him to stop you were too.

“Last one, I promise, just sit still.” Jonathan pleaded with puppy dog eyes and you decide to just let him take one more.

Your cheeks were red from the amount of blushing you’d done since you weren’t used to having your picture taken, if anything you were usually the one behind the camera, not in front, and honestly, you liked it that way. Your hair was a mess since you hadn’t really done much with it today, only expecting to babysit not become Jonathan’s one time model and you were pretty sure you looked a mess. The lighting in the living room was dim but Jonathan thought it illuminated your face perfectly. He loved the way the dim yellow light was hitting your features.

“There, I’m done.” He finally says making you look up from the few text books you had sprawled out across the couch to make sure.

You were working on some homework while Jonathan was taking pictures since the pizza wasn’t here yet, the boys were busy finishing up their game of dungeons and dragons, and you were hoping Jonathan would help you out a little with some of it, you’d probably need it once you hit algebra. You weren’t the best in school.

Fortunately enough for you Jonathan was a straight A student, impressive was a understatement for what you thought about his academics but he always brushed it off. He was definitely humble.

“Y/N!” You hear Will’s voice come from the kitchen distracting you from your thoughts about Jonathan before his small body appeared in the doorway to the living room.

You and Jonathan both turned towards him as you gave him a small smile. Will was a sweetheart, you’d known him since forever and you really tried not to pick favorites between all of the boys but if you had to Will would probably be your favorite. He was always kind and polite, just like his brother. The two of them were definitely the children you imagined every mom wanted. Joyce raised them right.

He began to walk towards the two of you before he was eventually standing by the side of the couch. His face held a small smile and he looked like he was in a good mood, he always looked like that around his friends though. You could tell that the type of friendship they all shared was something special and rare. You were happy that he had such a good group of friends.

“Do you want to watch the movies now?” He questions with a hopeful look on his face.

You glance towards Jonathan and then back at the books surrounding you, you still had quiet a bit of homework left but you knew Will had been excited to watch the movies you’d rented since you’d let him and the other boys pick some out. You even let them pick out one rated R movie, of course you told them not to tell their parents and that it was your guys secret. They all agreed and had been pretty enthusiastic about watching it tonight with you.

They’d picked out “The Shining” and although you hated horror films you’d decided to let them have their fun, besides, thankfully you had Jonathan now and although he didn’t seem like he could protect you and all the boys from a monster from some horror movie it made you feel better that you weren’t gonna have to watch it with them home alone. He definitely could protect you all from a random monster out of a horror movie though, not that you’d know that.

“Uh, sure, just let me put some of my stuff away so you can sit down.” You say beginning to grab your heavy textbooks.

You began pushing them into your beige backpack neatly trying to hurry so Will wouldn’t have to wait long but he ran off to get the other boys anyways so he’d probably be a few seconds. You were almost halfway done when Jonathan’s hand brushes yours handing you a small book you were reading for your English class. He had a faint smile on your face and it made your heart skip a beat. You anxiously grab the book from him and set it on top of everything in your bag before zipping the material shut.

Jonathan Byers never failed to make your heart race.

Will reentered the room with Mike, Dustin, and Lucas following close behind. They all had big smiles on their faces and although Dustin had his new front teeth for awhile you still weren’t used to the pearly whites in his smile. He looked cute with them, the type of cute you’d call a baby since technically he was a baby to you. You were quite a few years apart in age.

“Here, I’ll go get a extra chair-“ Jonathan was trying to suggest so that there would be more room for everyone on the couch but Will quickly interrupted him.

“No, we can all fit on the couch.” Will shrugs but you can tell he’s looking at Mike out of the corner of his eye to back him up.

Mike glances between you and Jonathan before nodding and moving towards the couch placing himself on the far end of it. He relaxes into the worn out couch cushions and tries to take up as much room as he can before Dustin does the same. Lucas takes the chair beside the couch though and Will shoots him a smile.

“Yeah, we can all fit.” Mike says and you can’t help but feel like they know something you don’t.

You brush it off though as Will places himself next to you. It’s a pretty tight squeeze with all of you on the couch but you don’t bring it up. Your arm was brushing against Jonathan’s and your legs were touching and you couldn’t help but notice that you were the only ones squished together, Mike and Will were taking up most of the couch by their awkward positions they were sitting in and Dustin was sitting quite comfortably in the middle of them.

Jonathan was glancing at you out of the corner of his eye and his cheeks were tinted a light pink due to the closeness of the two of you and the fact your skin was pressed against his. He knew what Will and the boys were doing, they were purposely trying to get you and Jonathan together since practically everyone knew how in love with you he’d been these past years, except you of course. You were oblivious.

Jonathan definitely thought it was smooth  move and it almost made him laugh at the boys attempt to bring you two together but he didn’t. He kept his laughter to himself and hoped that you wouldn’t notice what they were doing. Thankfully you didn’t, or at least he didn’t think you didn’t.

Lucas grabbed the plastic bag filled with the movies off the coffee table and grabbed the horror movie first before kneeling down on the floor beginning to set everything up. Lucas was pretty good with this stuff and probably knew more about how to get half this stuff working than you did.

It took him a few minutes of changing a few things on the TV and trying to get the VCR to play the movie before suddenly the dim TV screen came to life. Lucas smiled ear to ear in accomplishment before pushing himself back into the chair next to the couch after pressing play.

You felt Jonathan move his arm that was squished between the two of you trying to stretch it out a little. You tried to shift your position to give him more room but it only made things worse as your body was pressed more against Jonathan than it was before. Your hands were brushing against each other but neither of you had it in you to pull away from the subtle contact. Both of your cheeks were a dark red and your heart was beating out of your chest.

This was awkward.

Jonathan’s heart was racing just as fast as yours but of course you didn’t know that. He could feel the tension in the room as well but he tried his best to pretend everything was normal. That this wasn’t awkward for him. That it was just a movie and that you two were just sitting next to each other, that your every move wasn’t pressing your skin against his unintentionally and that it was driving him crazy.

Despite the closeness of you two you eventually begin to focus on the movie and for the most part it’s not as bad as you’d thought it’d be. You were honestly starting to enjoy it. At least that’s what you thought until twenty minutes in your practically jumped out of your skin at a few of the first jump scares.

“Are you good?” He whispers leaning towards your ear a little.

“I’m not really a fan of horror movies.” You respond earning a nod from Jonathan.

“Me either.” He admits with a soft smile trying to make you feel a little better.

The gesture was sweet and once again it just made your knees weak for him all over again. Thank god you weren’t standing up because you didn’t trust the jelly you called your knees to support you right now.

As the movie goes on your shoulders begin to loosen from their previous tenseness and your head starts to lean towards Jonathan slowly as time passes. Your head was resting on the back of the couch but your cheek was inches away from his shoulder dangerously close to resting there.

This didn’t go unnoticed by Jonathan either, it caused a spike in his heart rate and the nerves in his stomach intensified. He didn’t stop you or point it out though, part of him was hoping you’d rest your head on his shoulder and the other part of him was hoping something would ruin the moment so he could avoid the awkward interaction.

To both his relief and fear though eventually your head falls onto his shoulder after a few more minutes pass by. Your eyes were drooping shut due to your exhaustion and the fact you’d been working on homework and watching the boys all day. Eventually your eyes fully shut but you were still awake. You felt Jonathan shift underneath you moving his shoulder trying to make it more comfortable for you and if you weren’t so tired and out of it you probably would’ve smiled.

God, if he wasn’t the sweetest.

You fell asleep soon after that and it was just Jonathan and the boys for awhile. Time was passing quickly for everyone during your sleep. The pizza had arrived a few minutes ago, which Jonathan made Will get up and pay for so he wouldn’t wake you and the movie was almost over by now. The boys were beginning to get ready to head home since it was starting to get late and Jonathan was pretty sure Joyce was on her way home or at least would be soon.

“You should tell her.” Will says from the other side of the couch making Jonathan turn his head towards the boys.

Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion even though he knew exactly what Will was talking about. He couldn’t, he didn’t have the guts. He’d thought about telling you so many times but he just couldn’t. He backed out every single time. You didn’t like him back and he knew it and it’d be selfish to ruin your friendship like that when he knew for a fact that you didn’t like him back.

“I can’t.” Jonathan sighs causing his chest to rise with a deep breath.

“You can, and you should. I don’t think you’re the only one head over heels here.” Dustin admits earning a nod from Mike in agreement.

The conversation ended there leaving Jonathan with his messy thoughts. Soon after that the boys all eventually left since the movie was over and their parents were expecting them to be home soon. Will was sitting on the couch next to you and Jonathan in silence trying to think of what to say. He wanted to convince Jonathan to tell you because he knew it’d work out perfectly, the only ones who didn’t know that were the two of you.

“I think she likes you.” Will says towards Jonathan.

The words make the corners of Jonathan’s mouth twitch upwards into a involuntary smile and he glances down at you. Your lips were parted and some of your y/c/h hair was falling in your face. The thin strands were covering your cheeks and even some of your eyes but you remained peacefully asleep regardless. You looked angelic, at least that’s what Jonathan thought.

“I don’t think so.” Jonathan responds as he keeps his gaze fixated on you.

“Maybe you’d know for sure if you told her.” Will commented quietly before pushing himself off the couch into a standing position.

Will stretches his arms and legs trying to get some relief from being crammed into the couch, he was wrong, there wasn’t enough room for all of you on that tiny couch but he felt pretty accomplished seeing you sleeping next to Jonathan so it was worth it in his eyes. He sighs before turning towards Jonathan one last time for the night.

“You’d be surprised what you’re not seeing. Goodnight.” Will mumbles grabbing a purple blanket off the couch he’d gotten halfway through the movie to cover up with.

He threw it over his shoulder and padded across the living room floor quietly towards the doorway. He glances back towards you and Jonathan with a small smile before making his way down the dark hallway trying to find his room in the dark night. He finally reached his door on the right side of the hall and begins getting ready for bed.

Jonathan still didn’t move in fear of waking you up so he just sat there with his thoughts for a little while. Should he tell you? He didn’t think he had the bravery but recently with all the encouragement his mom and Will were giving him he thought he might be able to find it in his gut to say the words. Still, did he really want to? Jonathan was never one for confrontation and he was rather shy, especially when it came to you but with you it was different, he was comfortable yet nervous all at once. He didn’t understand how that could be.

You shift in your sleep causing Jonathan to stop dead in his tracks. You pressed your body into his further and his heart began to race for what felt like the millionth time again tonight. If it kept up he for sure thought his heart would give out by the morning. He wasn’t a heart doctor but he had no doubt about it.

The affect you had on Jonathan was unbelievable.

Jonathan continued thinking about his thoughts and worries until his eyes soon felt droopy too and it was getting harder and harder to keep them open. A few yawns escaped his lips until his head rested on top of yours and he fell into a peaceful sleep as well. The position his neck was in wasn’t the most comfortable but it benefitted you and it kept you comfortable so Jonathan didn’t care about it all too much. The kink in his neck tomorrow morning would be worth it.

The two of you stayed asleep for quite some time until the jiggling of keys coming from outside the front door began to stir Jonathan a little bit. He didn’t wake up though, just shifted and turned in his spot a bit. He was just as exhausted as you were and although he was a light sleeper he couldn’t find it in him to open his eyes to investigate the noise, he didn’t care enough to.

The front door opened slowly revealing Joyce wrapped up in a winter coat carrying a small brown purse on her arm. She didn’t notice the both of you laying on the couch at first until she stepped inside and shut the door behind her as quietly as she possibly could, she assumed from the lack of noise everyone was sleep but she didn’t know for sure until she turned around to see you and her son curled up together on one side of the couch comfortably.

Her heart warmed at the sight and she couldn’t help but feel happy for the both of you. She always thought the two of you would be cute together and you had her full acceptance and approval when it came to just about everything. She adored you. She hoped Jonathan would gather the courage to confess his feelings soon because the way he looked at you in a crowded room or listened to you talk was something that gave away how much he cared for you. Joyce knew he loved you, she just wished you knew sometimes too.

Joyce set her purse down on the table beside the door and took her heavy winter coat off along with the shoes that had been practically killing her all night, it felt good to take them off and finally she felt some relief. She tried to remain as quiet as possible to avoid waking the two of you up and thankfully succeeded.

Soon after that she made her way to the empty chair Lucas was previously sitting in during the movie grabbing the blanket hanging off the back of it. She carefully walks over towards you and Jonathan gently tossing the thin blue material over you both to keep you warm and comfortable throughout the night. This wouldn’t be the first time you accidentally slept over at the Byers.

She shut off all the lights and turned the static filled TV off before making her way out of the living room into her own room to call it a night, but not before giving you and Jonathan a adored glance.

ー

“I thought you’d be here.” Your voice startles Jonathan as he stops what he’s doing immediately and turns towards you.

The dark room wasn’t giving off much light so he could barely see your features in the dim red lighting. The outline of your silhouette was standing by the doorway of the room and you had a few school books in your arms and a green backpack slung on your shoulder loosely. Your hair was pulled up into a ponytail that had began to get messy as the day went on that you didn’t bother to fix. Your soft smile might not have been as noticeable as usual in the dark lighting but it still made Jonathan’s heart skip multiple beats.

You had been searching for Jonathan for a little while to see if he could help you with some of your homework since he always offered to and you were a little lost in a few subjects. You hadn’t had to look very far to find him though since you knew where he’d mostly likely be which was here, in the dark room developing pictures he’d taken. This was like his second home at this point.

You step towards Jonathan and start walking across the picture covered room to see what he’s developing. Jonathan took so many pictures a day you didn’t really have much of an idea of which ones they could be. You assumed they’d be some of his family or maybe even strangers, maybe scenery if you were lucky. You loved his scenery shots. There was nothing else like those photos.

You were surprised to see your face in the Byers living room sprawled across the multiple pictures Jonathan was developing as you stepped closer. Some of them were done but he was still in the middle of developing a few so you knew this wasn’t all of them. There were a few of Will and Joyce in there too but it was mostly pictures of you that Friday night.

Jonathan’s cheeks were a deep red as your eyes were focused on the pictures of yourself. You couldn’t help but notice how good the pictures really were, he had captured all the right angles and lighting, you looked happy in the photos, genuinely happy. Your smile was spread across your cheeks and your eyes were a little crinkled as the heavy textbooks were resting on your lap. Your lips were parted and your hair was falling perfectly and you couldn’t help but stare in awe.

These photos were beautiful.

“Jonathan, not to sound vain but these are wonderful.” You admit only causing his cheeks to redden even more.

“It’s not really the photos as much as the person in them.” He responds as you continue to stare at the photographs.

Jonathan’s words have more meaning behind them than you really think about since you brushed off the compliment. Your eyes were staring at the pictures in awe distracted by the world surrounding you. You always knew Jonathan was talented but wow, the photos were so mesmerizing, the photos of Will and Joyce were captured at perfect moments along with the rest and you just loved them all.

Jonathan stared at you in the exact way you were staring at the photos and he could feel his heartbeat in his ears. His hands were numb from nervousness as he thought about confessing his feelings to you right then and there. Will’s words echoed through his head about you liking him and he had to do this.

It was now or never.

“Y/N?” Jonathan asks causing you to turn your head a little barely breaking your attention from his photographs.

You notice his serious expression and you tilt your head to the side slightly confused. Your mind wondered on if you’d caught him at a bad time or if he just didn’t appreciate the interruption your company brought while he was trying to develop his photos. You hadn’t even noticed the shaky hands or pale look on his face.

He parted his lips to speak but you watched him fumble with his words trying to figure out what he wanted to say. He looked nervous and you could tell by the way he was avoiding eye contact with you that he felt awkward. You knew Jonathan a little too well for him to hide his emotions from you.

“You can tell me anything, you know that right?” You try to reassure him while putting a hand on his arm gently.

You felt nervous at his loss of words and anxious to find out what he had to say. Jonathan was always the shy type but he’d never hesitated so much to say something to you and it wasn’t reassuring. Your mind was conjuring up a bunch of things that could be wrong and absolutely none of them were positives.

Jonathan took a cautious step towards you and you watched with curiosity what he was doing. He visibly swallowed the lump in his throat and stared down at you due to the height difference between the two of you. Jonathan wasn’t incredibly tall but neither were you.

“Jonathan you’re kind of starting to make me ner-“ Your words were cut off in the middle of your sentence by his shaky voice.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He confesses and you feel your heart stop in your chest.

The two of you went silent and the only sound that could be heard throughout the whole room was your guys’ breathing. Your heart was beating about a million miles a minute and you couldn’t stop it or slow it down. Your mind was trying to comprehend what Jonathan just told you but it wasn’t sinking in. You almost thought you didn’t hear him correctly. That was until he spoke up once again.

“I shouldn’t have done that I’m sorry.” He tries to take his words back but it’s too late.

Jonathan loved you? Jonathan loved you. Jonathan was in love with you.

The thoughts kept echoing through your head and your mind was a mess inside your head. You soon realized you hadn’t responded by the way Jonathan’s eyebrows were furrowed in concern and his face was full of fear. You lazily set your books on one of the empty tables beside the two of you without breaking eye contact. You let your heavy backpack slip off your shoulder loosely and it hit the floor with a small thud.

You move your now free hands to Jonathan’s cheeks and press yourself onto your tip toes to reach Jonathan’s height. Your face was extremely close to his and you could feel his shaky breathes hitting your lips. It made you smile a little since you knew you weren’t the only one nervous here before you let your eyes flutter shut.

You lean forward and press your lips against his and his arms immediately wrap themselves around your waist. It was like instinct, everything felt right. It felt like this was how it was suppose to be. You were certain from this moment on that you and Jonathan were always gonna be more than friends, you couldn’t go back now.

His lips tasted like vanilla chapstick and mint which is exactly what you always imagined. His hands were gripping your waist loosely as the two of you moved in sync with each other. He was slow and careful, like he was afraid he was going to make the wrong move or like you were made of glass.

Jonathan tried to pull you closer to him after a few seconds but there wasn’t any space left between the two of you. The kiss was everything you’d imagined, it was like every day dream you’d ever had about it. It was perfect, the butterflies filling your stomach proved that.

Unfortunately after some time you had to pull away to catch your breath. You both parted from each other before Jonathan rested his forehead against yours. He brought one of his hands up to your cheek brushing some of the stray strands of hair behind your ear innocently.

His smile was bright and full of relief, just like yours. Your expressions were mirroring each other and you’d never felt so at peace before.

“I guess that makes two of us.” You reply to his previous words only to earn a chuckle from him in response.

Finally.

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan x reader #jonathan imagines #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers imagines #stranger things #stranger things imagines #st #st imagines #will byers #mike wheeler #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson #joyce byers

[trustbitchin]

☆

send me the good ‘ ☆ ‘ and my ass is gon’ school you on how El would mourn your death // (ACCEPTING) - @hawkinslead

Oh G O D I’m gonna’ D I E  A L O N E !!

    This T O W N is so B L E A K. They are barely afloat. But she is far B E T T E R off than him. How perfectly O D D. Should it not be the other way A R O U N D? He has a G O O D family, suffered from a perfectly L O V I N G childhood. But one forgets that even the most picture P E R F E C T life…can be anything B U T that.

    One D A Y in particular, he finally spits out those T E R R I F Y I N G words. Mike Wheeler is talking L I F E and D E A T H. The first time it’s ever uttered, poor I G N O R A N T teen had to search that word on her L A P T O P.

suicide

[soo-uh-sahyd]

noun

the intentional taking of one’s own life.

destruction of one’s own interests or prospects:Buying that house was financial suicide.

a person who intentionally takes his or her own life.

    She S I T S at that D E S K and her world C R U M B L E S before her. This is not a J O K E. And if it is? She isn’t L A U G H I N G. Behind on the S O C I A L curve indeed, but some things are pure I N S T I N C T. She tries– good G O D she T R I E S. The L A T E night texts B R E A K her H E A R T and those W A T E R Y eyes send her into a M E L A N C H O L Y frenzy. 

    L A N K Y framed B O Y often C L I  M B S into her window after F A T H E R falls A S L E E P. Those are the N I G H T S she knows he N E E D S her most. C O V E R S are drawn down, welcoming his S I C K form, “You make me think about a muffin.” And when S A D little B O Y inquires about the rather P E C U L I A R statement, a V I D E O is pulled up on her phone. The music is U P B E A T and rather C R Y P T I C. It depicts a C A R T O O N  M U F F I N singing about his W O E S, “A muffin, Mike.” It’s the S T R A N G E S T attempt to make him feel B E T T E R, but she is no A V E R A G E Jane, after all.

Ha, I’m a muffin.And it’s muffin time.Who wants a muffin?Please, I just wanna die!!Hey, somebody kill me.Please, it’s muffin time.Have you had a muffin today?I wanna die, die die!!  

    The underlying T H E M E is M O R B I D indeed. Yet she W A T C H E S him manage the most B I T T E R S W E E T smile between tear filled E Y E S and R E D nose. Perhaps he is T H A N K F U L that instead of D I S M I S S I N G his feelings ( much like his family does!! ), she C H O O S E S to U N D E R S T A N D instead. You want to die, it’s not okay, but I understand. 

It’s muffin time,‘Cause I wanna die, die, die!!

    And those bittersweet T E A R S are shared that evening in S I L E N C E ( save for a few little chuckles because, hey!! that song is kind of catchy!! ) on that E V E N I N G. There’s a C O D E  W O R D for his so easily dismissed F E E L I N G S now.

Please somebody kill me!!Please, it’s muffin time!!

‘How are you, Mike?’‘It’s muffin time.’‘Please not yet.’‘I can’t keep doing this.’‘Yes you can…always here. Promise.’

    She remembers how C O L D it felt. The very F I R S T snow of the S E A S O N and she’s buzzing with excitement. El liked S N O W. She remembers how her T E X T message went U N A N S W E R E D before S C H O O L ( Snowman after school please!! ). And that’s not N O R M A L for M I K E. And she remembers how she felt R E S T L E S S the entire M O R N I N G because he hadn’t shown up that day. And she remembers that his F A T H E R had been working all day ( as always!! ) and his M O T H E R had been out S H O P P I N G. And she R E M E M B E R S how she R A N up those stairs with his mother. And to their H O R R O R…….

    ….And she remembers how C O L D he felt when she H E L D his H A N D S and hugged his E M P T Y shell. This is the M O M E N T her own B O D Y began to R O T with P O I S O N O U S thoughts. She has no reason to B E H A V E anymore. Every W I N D O W of that H O U S E shattered to oblivion that D A Y. She S P O K E in fragmented S T A T E M E N T S cursing his N E G LE C T F U L father and his C A R E L E S S mother ( she’s a good mother!! truly she is!! she’s just angry and upset!! ) who so easily S H O T down his constant P L E A D I N G for H E L P. ( i know you think you’re depressed but you’re not!! school just has you stressed but you’ll be okay!! ) L I G H T S will F L I C K E R and P O W E R will surge. She will C R Y and S C R E A M like a B A N S H E E from H E L L, and eventually, teenage G I R L will pass out from the heartbroken E N E R G Y she’s exerted.

Today is the D A Y. She’s dressed in B L A C K from head to toe with a half finished C I G A R E T T E nursed between her fingers. She can’t go in there, she just can’t. It’s O P E N casket and she’s S P O R T I N G her H E A R T on her S L E E V E. Dear Will ( bless his heart!! ) S Q U E E Z E S her shoulder and for O N C E doesn’t comment about how he W I S H E S she wouldn’t S M O K E. Because even if he’s completely correct ( hell, even she knows it!! ), the circumstances are different right now.

   Together they E N T E R that eerily S I L E N T room. Dustin and Lucas are in the corner, rehashing old S T O R I E S of their best D&D campaigns with Bill and Richie. They’re damn S T R O N G for holding their composure. Will P O L I T E L Y asks ( through tear stained cheeks!! he’s been crying on and off all day!! ) if he can A C C O M P A N Y her in this moment. She respectfully D E C L I N E S. She needs to do this alone.

    The W A L K feels endless and now she is sewn firmly to the floor K N E E L I N G before his L I F E L E S S form. What H U R T S her sad H E A R T the most, is just how P E A C E F U L he looks, because that’s exactly what he W A N T E D. It’s exactly W H Y he did this. He’s pulled her heart right from her C H E S T and B E A T E N it violently in front of her. There are no W O R D S for her to P O U R out onto S A T I N lining and frigid S K I N. 

    …Because what can you say about 353 D A Y S? First K I S S E S? First D A N C E S? Endless L A U G H T E R? Stupid J O K E S? Pointless F I G H T S? Never calling him B O Y F R I E N D and never saying she’s his G I R L F R I E N D, but knowing damn well they belong to E A C H O T H E R and they are E X C L U S I V E in that right. What can you say about the B O Y who gave you a fucking C H A N C E in this E V I L world who T R U S T E D everything about you– and gave you a god damn N A M E to stand on?!

You can’t.You can’t S A Y anything, because there’s too much to say. Too many M E M O R I E S.

    The S T O M A C H acid B U R N S and she’s ready to P R O J E C T I L E when Karen Wheeler kneels beside her, “There’s…” She C U T S herself O F F, wiping T E A R S from that grieving face, “H-He wrote a letter-h. A-and in it h-he requested you have this-h.” The B O X is handed off. And she takes it without a word. Nothing but N O D is presented before she excuses herself outside of the building for a S M O K E and a M I N U T E. 

    The box is O P E N E D revealing an O L D CD player, and…a M I X CD:

Please listen to this. I made it for you.And please don’t be mad. I just had to.I’m so sorry, El.

    H E A D P H O N E S warm C H I L L E D ears on this icy E V E N I N G. She’ll press P L A Y and in that I N S T A N T? When the M E L O D Y begins, N U M B exterior is finally D E S T R O Y E D like the deadliest E X P L O S I O N:

Please I wanna–Die, die, die.Die, die, die.It’s muffin time,‘Cause I wanna die, die, die!!

    That stupid fucking song. THAT STUPID FUCKING SONG!! H A N D is closed over T R E M B L I N G lips as C I G A R E T T E is carelessly dropped onto the wet C O N C R E T E. She no L O N G E R remembers how to B R E A T H E or how to F U N C T I O N. She grabs hold of herself and rocks gently B A C K and F O R T H as she allows D I S T R A U G H T hysterics to completely T A K E  O V E R, “I-I-hhh-hlovedyou-h-h!” How is she E X P E C T E D to continue when her body physically H U R T S and her C H E S T feels like it’s on F I R E? Will this ever go away?

    But sometimes L O V E isn’t enough. Maybe she will never be W H O L E again. Because her S A V I N G grace had spent so much time S A V I N G her, that he no longer had the A B I L I T Y to S A V E himself. Her F R I E N D S will surround her– ready to pull her into the T I G H T E S T of H U G S. But she will R E F U S E every single one of them because: none of you are him.

None of you are him. And that’s the only person I want to hug ever again. 

#HOOOOO BOY THIS ONE IS A DOOZY #tw: death #tw: suicide #hawkinslead

[slashersteve]

Five Tickets (Steve Harrington)

Summary: Steve couldn’t pass up a chance to be able to kiss you, even if there is a price.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Reader

Warnings: a lil innocent smooch and not edited oops

Word Count: 1900+

Note: I’ve started reading a bunch of kissing booth fics and they murdered me so ima write one. Feedback is welcomed! Enjoy :)

Masterlist

The Hawkins end of the school year fair was just around the corner, and there was already sign ups for the different types of booths looking for volunteers during lunch. 

There were signs for different types of games like pop the balloon, milk can toss, bottle ring, milk bottle toss...the normal games you would find at a carnival or fair mostly. There were going to be many food vendors as well, and they were working on getting at least one ride. If not, there would be a huge dance floor where students could dance all night long, or at least till it closes.

Everyone was invited, but it was mostly just kids and teenagers showed up while their parents had a quiet night at home.

Steve wasn’t interested in going this year, but when he learned that the kids were going to go he felt an urge to go and make sure they stay safe. He couldn’t help, not after everything that happened, somebody needed to keep an eye on them and make they don’t do anything stupid.

But, there was also another reason why he wanted- no needed to go- and that was because you were going to be there. Although, you weren’t going to be there to hang out and have fun, no you were there working at one of the booths, and not a game booth...it was a kissing booth. Yeah, that one booth where you would be kissing other people.

You seemed so excited too when you sat down next to him during lunch on that fateful day. Steve turned to you, about to ask what was making you so excited until he noticed heart-shaped name tag you set down in the middle of them all. It was Nancy, sitting in front of you, who reached out first to grab and examine it.

It took her only a second before she laughed, “(y/n)? You signed up for the kissing booth?” she asked, handing you the name tag back. Steve felt his heart drop suddenly, and the fork of food he held stopped midway to his mouth. You smiled and nodded, eager.

“Yeah! My grade isn’t doing too well- so my teacher said if I volunteered for one of the booths she would give me extra credit,” you explained, “And this one was the only one open,” Steve reached out and took the name tag from you.

“You’re seriously going to kiss random people for extra credit?” Steve asked, fingers tracing your written name. You nodded as if it was nothing.

“It’s just a peck on the lips, if anyone gets too handsy I’m allowed to shove them away and tell on them to get them kicked out,” you replied. Steve still frowned, not liking the idea of other people kissing you, or even getting that close to you. Steve handed you back the nametag, not before noticing Nancy and Jonathan giving each other a knowing look.

Steve ignored them.

It honestly shouldn’t be bothering him this much. It wasn’t like you two were dating or anything, it shouldn’t matter who you kiss or how many people you will be kissing- but he couldn’t help but feel a sting in his heart that you will be kissing a lot of people, and not him.

He’s known you since his sophomore year of high school, and you two instantly hit it off as friends. Although you didn’t hang out much, Steve always knew you were up to talk late at night or to even see a movie with him. And ever since you two banded together to help your brother Dustin with his demodog problem, you two have been much, much closer to the point where you had a sleepover at his house.

Steve liked you, as a friend. At least that’s what he made himself believe. The feeling he had for you was always underlying, and if it surfaced he would quickly push it away. You were his friend, a very close friend, nothing more. 

Then again, when he saw you drunkenly making out with this guy from his math class at a party two weeks ago, he did punch him for taking advantage of you and took you home. You were too drunk to even really remember, and so was the other guy. 

Or another time when you started to spend a lot of time with one of basket ball teammates he got really, really jealous. He never voiced it though, just let it happen thinking it was because he didn’t want a guy like that with you. He never considered the fact that he wanted to be that guy, the one you showed interest in, the one you liked because he really, really liked you.

Everyone else could clearly see it, the way his eyes would linger on you when he’s spaced out, or how he somehow would bring you up in conversation. The way he acted if you were becoming smitten with someone else. Hell, even Dustin, your younger brother could tell that he clearly had a thing for his sibling. 

Everyone except you both of course.

The fair was barely beginning, the moment he entered with the kids was the moment they ran off into one direction, ready to play silly games and win silly stuffed animals.

It didn’t take Steve too long to find Nancy and Jonathan, who were both working at the photo op booth. There were props for each picture like silly hats and sunglasses and things like that. He approached Nancy first, noticing Jonathan inside of the booth working the camera.

“Where are the kids? I thought you were their babysitter again?” Nancy asked with a small smirk. Steve shook his head and smiled.

“They disappeared the moment they got their tickets,” he shrugged, Nancy laughed as she took tickets from other students and sent them into the booth. 

“You know...” Nancy motioned her head towards a booth that was lit up with pink lights, “(y/n) is right over there...they could use your company,” Nancy’s voice trailed off. Steve felt his cheeks heat up as his eyes went to yours.

You stood there, the giant heart name tag on your sweater, and giant smile on your face before you leaned in to peck someone on the lips. Steve felt himself tense up, and his frown deepen.

Nancy noticed and rolled her eyes.

“Go over there, Steve, it’s only 5 tickets,” Steve turned to her with wide eyes.

“What makes you think I want-”

“Oh it’s so obvious- so, so obvious,” she took more tickets from another group of kids, Steve’s jaw dropped slightly and he was about to speak when he was cut of when Mike, Will, Dustin, Max, Lucas, and El showed up, baring tickets.

“Think we get a freebie for a photo?” Dustin asked, while the rest smiled in hopes of Nancy saying yes.Nancy scoffed.

“No- pay up,” she held her hand out and Mike rolled his eyes slightly.

“Just give her the tickets, Dustin,” Mike said, Dustin sighed and handed over his 5 tickets.

 “Thank you!” she set them down in the box and pointed them on their way and turned back to Steve.

“The line is getting pretty long over there,” she said after glancing, “They might go on break soon- so you might lose your chance-” Steve waved his hand.

“Nancy- Nancy- I don’t like (y/n) that way and also- I don’t even have any tickets,” he held out both hands. Nancy scoffed again like he was one of the kids.

“You’re impossible Steve, here just-” she looked around before handing him 5 tickets from the box Dustin just handed to her, “Just do it...”

Steve stared at them for a moment, before his eyes wandered back to you. Ironically, you had already been looking at him, a small smile grew on your lips and you slowly turned away to look at the next person in line. Steve felt something suddenly open up inside of him, and he smiled. 

He looked back to the tickets that she now shook in her hand giving him a ‘I know you want to’ look. Steve let out a laugh, it shouldn’t surprise him how well Nancy knew him. So, he took the tickets, and ran off with a small ‘thanks’.

“Don’t thank me just yet!” Nancy called after before laughing. 

Steve jogged up to the semi-long line, hoping and praying that you wouldn’t be going off your shift the moment he got to you. 

His nerves were acting up like never before. He hadn’t remembered ever truly feeling this nervous about kissing the person he was smitten with, he was usually always so confident, but when it came to you- it was like he couldn’t find it at all. He was surprised he even stayed in line, but god dammit his heart would not stop beating to fast.

The line grew shorter in what felt like hours, and soon, the person before him moved away and there you were. A warm smile on your lips, and a sort of light in your eyes that made Steve frozen in his spot.

His breath hitched as his feet moved toward you, “Hi...”

You smiled nervously.

“Hi...” Steve held up the five tickets, and put them into the jar. When he looked back to you, he suddenly felt this fear that this would somehow ruin your friendship, that he would fall into so much more love with you and you wouldn't feel the same. That thought scared him, but when you reached forward, resting your hand on the back of his neck and beginning to lean in, his worries went away in a second.

Your noses touch and a for a brief second your eyes wandered down to his lips.

Finally, your eyes fluttered shut as your lips touched his, and Steve’s did too. His lips moved against yours in an experience motion. You hummed against him, beginning to move yours too.

It seemed that you both had forgotten that this kissing booth met a peck on the lips and not the deep kiss you and Steve were currently having. You both were too caught up in it to even realize it, Steve especially because wow you were a good kisser.

If it wasn’t for the grumbles from the people coming behind him, and your other kissing booth partner clearing their throat, you might of continued it. You pulled away first, keeping your hand resting on his cheek and small smile on your lips.

Steve was out of breath, and felt like he was floating right now. Your eyes still lingered on one another, and the tension that was just released between you two was completely obvious. 

Your partner rolled their eyes before smirking and crossing their arms, “I think you had enough kissing for today (y/n)...” You turned your head to look at them, cheeks blushing a bright pink.

Steve kept his eyes on you, before you turned to him and said, “I’ll be right back...wait for me...”

And Steve did wait, standing on the side of the booth with a large smile on his lips that he would have after he kissed you every time in the future. His eyes wandered around, landing on Nancy who had two thumbs up. He let out a laugh and waved her off.

You returned, the name tag gone and your cheeks flustered. Steve chuckled, and reached down, entangling your hands together.

“Let’s get out of here,” was all he said when he began to pull you through the large crowd.

Steve reminded himself as you climbed into the passenger seat of his car, that he should really thank Nancy again for letting him borrow those five tickets. Or maybe he should thank Dustin, since they were his tickets.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrinton/reader #stranger things #stranger things 2 #st imagines #stranger things imagines #my imagines

[blah-blah-stranger-things]

The Monk (Chapter 2/2)

Chapter 1

ao3 (featuring slightly better formatting)

“A Monk. One of those quiet-types with robes and fancy handwriting?” Hopper looks at Wheeler skeptically.

“It’s not like - no, not a medieval monk. They’re like...”

“Monks believe in perfecting themselves, physically and spiritually, in pursuit of enlightenment,” Dustin advises sagely, balancing potato chips on four of his fingertips.

“And that sounds like me to you, huh?”

“Um - yeah, of course it does,” Wheeler responds cheerily. Hopper’s going to pretend he doesn’t notice the glance at his stomach, because otherwise one thing will lead to another, and at the end of the day he understands that it’s never ok to beat up a child.

“They also believe in punching people real hard in the face,” Lucas adds dryly.

Hopper tilts his head. Alright, he’ll give them that one. “And this role, or whatever - that determines what I can do?”

“Your class. And yeah, kind of,” Wheeler replies, turning one of those massive rulebooks toward him. “They determine your hit dice, and your ability set, and how much experience you need for certain effects, and what - ”

“Whoa, whoa, ok. Slow down. You promised me I wouldn’t have to look at any charts.”

Wheeler looks disappointed for a moment, but then shrugs as if to say ‘your loss.’

“So. Monk,” Hopper resumes. “That’s the closest thing this game has to a cop?”

Nobody responds for a couple of seconds. Dustin becomes very interested in his hat, Lucas starts idly tapping Max’s jeans with his pencil’s eraser (she grimaces affectionately; Hopper hadn’t known that was something a person could do), and Will concentrates intently on a doodle he’s been sketching in the corner of his character sheet. “Sure,” Mike says eventually.

Hopper glances at El, who shrugs shyly without making eye contact. “Do me a favor, kids,” he says after a moment. “Don’t ever commit a crime that requires you to lie to the police. It’s not your strong suit.”

El has the decency to look embarrassed, but Wheeler just scratches the back of his head. “Well - ok, maybe technically there’s another class that’s more like a police officer. But it’s taken.”

“You can’t have more than one of each?”

“Well you could, I guess, but... we don’t.”

Of course they don’t. “Ok. So which one is it. I assume it’s not maestro over there - ” Dustin waggles his eyebrows helpfully. “ - or red’s made-up speed demon, or El’s witch.”

“Mage,” El corrects gravely.

“Right. So that leaves the clerk, or - ”

“Cleric,” Will says, crossing his arms. Jesus, kid can glare as good as his mother when he wants to.

“ - or bandana over there.”

“Lucas is a Ranger. And no, it’s not any of those.”

“Well,” Hopper concludes patiently, “I may not be a math whiz, but I’m pretty sure that’s all five of you. There some invisible player here I don’t know about? Bad manners not to introduce a guest to the host, kid.”

“Um, hello?” Wheeler says. “There’s six of us here.”

Hopper frowns. “I thought you were the, uh. The Dungeon Master.”

“Right now, sure. We trade off sometimes, though.”

“Yeah but Mike’s the best at it,” Will notes matter-of-factly. In response Wheeler does his best not to look cocky, which isn’t saying much.  

Dustin gives a half-shrug. “Eh, for stories. Lucas still kills it when it comes to running tactical scenarios.”

“And yet he couldn’t stalk for shit,” Max laments teasingly, flicking Lucas’s temple, who flinches and grins. (Hopper decides he doesn’t want to know.)

“Anyway - I’m a Paladin, which is probably the closest thing to law enforcement. But I mean that’s just based on specs and general outline. Really backstory is more important, and Monks have to be Lawful, which fits the police, right?”

Hopper smells bullshit - exhibit A, there’s no goddamn Paladin in the group at the moment, and since he doesn’t expect he’ll be investing in a set of mutated dice anytime soon why the hell does it matter if he plays one - but whatever. He’s doing this for El. Stop arguing and get it over with, Jim. “Fine. But let me state for the record, you’re missing out on a real bonding opportunity, Wheeler. Don’t you think El’d love it if her two favorite men had matching classes?”

El smiles widely and Wheeler looks embarrassed, so as far as Hopper’s concerned he’s 2 for 0.

“Alright, so I’m physically disciplined, I punch people, I’m law-abiding. That enough to get started here or what?”

“Lawful. Different from law-abiding,” Dustin amends in what Hopper supposes is meant to be a professorial tone.

“How you figure.”

“It’s part of your alignment. I mean yeah, Lawful people usually are law-abiding, but it’s more than that.”

Hopper rubs his temples preemptively. “Alignment.”

“Mhm. Everyone has an alignment. It’s a system on two axes; on the one side you’ve got your Lawful, Neutral, Chaotic, on the other it’s Good, Neutral, and - ”

“I know you’re not showing me a chart but now I’m picturing one in my head, which I’ve decided counts. Why don’t you just... tell me what you all are and I can be that too.”

Will’s gone back to doodling - the kid’s intimidatingly good, even if he puts the timid in intimidating; Hopper feels mildly unsettled when draws dries, sometimes, half-convinced that one day he’ll look over Will’s shoulder and see more of those damn vines spilling out onto the page. Anyway he’s doodling, and doesn’t look up when he replies. “We’re different. Mike and I are Lawful Good, Dustin and Max are Chaotic Good, and El and Lucas are Neutral - ”

“ - Good, yeah, I get it, you’re the good guys. Fine. So I’m Lawful Good?”

“If you want to be. You could try Lawful Neutral if you’re feeling edgy. The law applies to good and evil alike! That kind of thing. Like Judge Dredd, or... man, is there anyone in Star Wars who’d be Lawful Neutral?” Wheeler asks, looking mildly distressed.

“It’d be lost on me anyway, kid,” Hopper reassures.

“Inspector Javert’s Lawful Neutral,” Dustin provides.

Hopper grunts; he took Sara to see that show, once, when she was too little to understand much of what was happening. “You never struck me as one for musicals.”

“What? I have a soft spot for Les Mis. My mom likes it. Besides, I am a Bard. I dreaaaamed a dreaaaaam in time gone byyyyyyy - ”

“Just - god - please. Don’t,” Hopper pleads quietly.

God spurns him. Will joins in without looking up from his doodling, forehead creasing with due melodrama. “When hoooope was hiiiiiigh and liiiiiife worth liviiiiing. I dreaaaaamed that loooove would never dii - ow!” the boys say simultaneously as Max and Lucas, perfectly choreographed, smack them upside the head. At least El’s laughing.

“So can we get started or - ” Hopper and Mike both say, overtop each other.

El laughs harder.

Yes, though, it turns out, they can.

“Unbeknownst to the party - unbeknownst even to Ariybar himself - there’s another witness to the dark proceedings underway in the ritual chamber. A tall man with a hard gaze lurks just outside the secret doorway, having followed the brave adventurers here at the behest of the Order of the Golden Shield. The Order, a band of warriors dedicated to seeking justice across the land, sent their top operative - known only as Chief - to ensure the safe return of the princess, given - um - some... creative solutions, that this particular group has been known to employ on occasion.”

“Look,” Dustin interjects, “if that goat hadn’t looked at me funny I never would have had to - ”

“Would you shut it about the goat already,” Lucas hisses. “Besides, he’s probably talking about the time El first discovered her powers and almost burnt down the entire Enchanted Forest.”

El makes a face at him. “Better than Doomstoll.”

“Yeah, Lucas. I don’t remember El spending half an hour flirting with a young maiden who turned out to be a kobold in disguise,” Will teases.

Max raises an eyebrow.

“In my defense,” Lucas says, holding up his hands, “Mike said she was hot.”

“Yeah? What’d she look like?”

“Oh you know. Dark hair, petite. Dainty. Just how I like ‘em,” he says with a grin. Max shoves him.

“Yeah except actually she looked like if a wet rat had sex with a lizard,” Dustin notes. “Not sure what that says about you Max.”

“Doesn’t say anything about me. Just shows how pitifully desperate this nerd used to be.”

“Guys can we focus here? - So, Chief, you’re listening in and have just heard Ariybar explain his plan. It’s clear from the way the runes along the wall are reacting that his ritual is about to begin. What do you do?”

Hopper finds himself feeling surprisingly nervous all the sudden, and it doesn’t help that they’re all staring at him expectantly. “Do I get choices, or something?”

Wheeler shakes his head. “You can do anything you want. As long as it doesn’t go against the rules.”

He grunts. “So the Dungeon Master is Lawful, is what you’re saying.”

Wheeler smiles. “What do you do?” he repeats.

Hopper glances at El, who nods encouragingly. “I, uh... do I have a gun?”

“What do you think,” Wheeler responds, looking unimpressed.

“Ok, fine. A weapon?”

The Dungeon Master taps his fingertips against the cover of a rulebook, mouth twisted in thought, before he picks up a die and rolls it. “Yeah, ok. Traditionally Monks don’t rely on weapons and armor, but we’ll say you’ve got a knife with you. You’ll do more damage with your fists, though, if you decide to attack.”

“Does he have Quivering Palm?” Dustin asks excitedly.

“What? No. That’s level 13 and above.”

“Yeah, but he’s older. More experienced.”

“Age doesn’t matter when it comes to level.”

“Yeah, I know, but...”

“No. Overruled. He’s the same level as the rest of you.” Kid takes to authority a little too well, Hopper thinks with a frown. And judging by the impish smile his daughter’s sending Wheeler’s way, she likes it.

“So where’s everyone standing, relative to me,” he interrupts, before his mind can start going all sorts of bad places.

“Ok - the party is about 15 feet into the room. Ariybar is hovering a foot or so off the ground about 10 feet in front of them. Here,” he says, pulling a board of sorts out into the center of the floor space, “we probably should’ve set this up earlier. Each square is 5 feet by 5 feet. With your speed you can move 30 feet per combat round - but we’re not in combat yet, so, ignore that for now. Uhh so this one’s Ariybar,” he says, picking up a statuette of a gnarled little creature and placing it on the board. “And here’s Will, El, Max, Lucas, Dustin... and this one’s you.”

The figurine he chooses is a ripped old bald guy with a big stick. Kind of like if Gandhi had decided to skip the hunger strikes and spent all his afternoons at the gym instead. “And he doesn’t know I’m here yet.”

“Right.”

Hopper scratches his neck, realizes he missed a spot shaving. Eh, it’s the weekend. “How long until this ritual thing is complete?”

“You don’t know. You’re not a caster.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You don’t need to be a caster to know about spells,” Dustin contests.

“Yeah, but this is a unique ritual.”

Lucas makes a face. “That’s weak. He didn’t get to pick his backstory or skills, how do we know he doesn’t have a knowledge concentration or something?”

“Because he doesn’t!”

“Weak.”

“Well - Ariybar’s an illusionist. So an arcane caster,” Will notes. “A Monk might know about divine magic, but probably not arcane.”

“Thank you,” Wheeler says, as Dustin and Lucas both appear to reluctantly concede, leaning back.

“Wise,” Will reminds with a shy smile, tapping his forehead.

“So are you going to do something, or...” Max prods.

“Yeah,” Hopper grunts, clearing his throat. “Just a couple more questions first.”

Mike toys with something behind his little Dungeon Master wall/board/whatever. “The runes flair dramatically; you get the sense you don’t have much time left. I’ll give you one more question.”

“Just one?”

“Yeah.”

Hopper grunts again, and finds he isn’t above waiting a few extra breaths as the group stares at him expectantly. Dramatic tension, or some shit. He slouches in his chair to get closer to eye level with the group seated on the floor. Also because it’s a Saturday and he’s lazy. “What’s he wearing.”

Wheeler frowns, and Dustin and Lucas glance at each other. Max looks ready to be offended and/or disgusted; El just looks confused.

“ - sorry?” Wheeler replies eventually.

“I said, what’s he wearing.”

“You mean like what equipment he has, or - ”

“Is that how you take it when someone asks you what you’re wearing to the school dance? They want to know if you’re bringing a sword? I mean exactly what I said.”

After a few more skeptical seconds, Wheeler shrugs. “Ok - um, he’s got a somewhat dirty white tunic covered by lightweight leather armor. Brown pants. A cloth belt and muddy boots, and a red robe, undecorated but definitely the best-maintained part of his outfit. There’s a pendant around his neck, a blue stone on a gold chain.”

“And that’s it?”

Wheeler looks uncomfortable for what might be the first time since Hopper got dragged into this mess, and it takes a little effort to keep from smirking. “I mean... that you can see. Yeah.”

Hopper nods. “Alright. Here goes nothing,” he mutters. “I step out into the room.”

“Do you sneak?”

He shakes his head. “Looks to me like someone needs to interrupt him. So I interrupt him.”

Wheeler nods. “Ok. What do you say?”

Hopper rubs at the patch of stubble on his neck. “Uh - so I just say it to you?”

“Yeah. Pretend I’m Ariybar.”

Hopper’s not going to do that, because a teenage supervillain in an argyle sweater isn’t something he’s sure he can take seriously. So he focuses on preparing his response instead. “Stop right there,” he says with as much authority as he’s willing to muster.

“Ariybar’s sinister smirk is interrupted by a confused frown as he looks toward you, and the runes dim slightly. ‘What’s this? Another hapless soul for my master to consume?’”

Hopper’s eyebrow twitches. The kid has a flair for the theatrical, no doubt, but his voices could use some work. “I’m here to stop you,” he says with something like heroism, reevaluating all the choices in his life that have led him to this moment.

“Who the hell are you?” Dustin asks emphatically.

“...what do you mean, who the hell am I.”

“No - my character says that.”

“Wheeler just told you who I was. A Monk from the League of the Gold Medalists or whatever.”

“Order of the Golden Shield,” Mike says impatiently. “Like a police badge?”

“I know he said that,” Dustin resumes, his professor voice on display again. “But you’re not supposed to metagame. ‘What is metagaming,’ you’re no doubt asking yourself. Well, that’s an excellent question, Chief Hopper’s hypothetical internal monologue. Metagaming means acting on knowledge you have as a player but that your character wouldn’t know. It’s like cheating.”

“So in addition to knowing all the stuff in those books you also have to not know things to play this game.”

“Pretty much. So like I said - ‘Who the hell are you?’”

Hopper closes his eyes, rubs the corner of one with his thumb. “I’m from the Order of the, uh...”

“Golden Shield.”

“ - Golden Shield, I was about to say that. I followed you twerps here to make sure you actually got the job done.”

“Are you kidding me? The king doesn’t trust us? After everything we’ve done for him?” Dustin exclaims, affronted.

“I mean, to be fair...” Max says, waving her hand in a circle.

“...ok, so I admit this isn’t our finest moment. But still. I thought we had a bond.”

“‘Fool. All you’ve accomplished is ensuring you’ll share your friends’ fate!’ Ariybar turns his attention to you and begins to cast a spell.”

“Not my friends,” Hopper mutters.

“Everyone’s piling it on today,” Dustin grumbles.

It takes Hopper a moment before he realizes that Will’s holding out a die pinched between two fingers in front of him. “You’ll need this,” the boy says, nodding at Wheeler, who’s flipping rapidly through pages in his rulebook.

Hopper holds out a hand for it, and Will drops it in. Well, he thinks, staring down at the lump of plastic resting on his palm, there’s no going back now. He’s about to lose his nerdginity.

“Roll a Reflex save. - Uh, just, roll that,” Mike corrects when he looks up, before Hopper can ask for clarification.

Here goes nothing.

The die cracks its knuckles against the floor and comes to rest next to an abandoned pretzel stick. “17.”

“Nice. A bright, crackling beam of energy aimed at your chest slices through the air, but as though on instinct you angle your body out of the way in the fraction of a second it takes for the spell to leave his fingertips. The wall behind you sparks and sizzles, burnt at the point of impact.”

“Holy shit, did he just dodge a bolt of lightning?” Max remarks.

“Monks get Evasion as a class ability.”

“Badass,” El says. Oh good. She’s picked up another one.

Granted, it was kind of badass.

“Punch him in the face,” Lucas suggests enthusiastically, but Hopper raises a hand to shush him.

“Wheeler said I wouldn’t know anything about the ritual. What about the rest of you? You can still talk, right?”

Will nods. “El should be able to roll a Knowledge check for it.”

“Good luck,” Lucas mutters.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Hopper says, defensively on El’s behalf.

“It just means her character’s, uh... you know, more of an emotionally-driven Mage. Not really the... bookish type.”

El sticks her tongue out at him as she picks a die to roll.

“Ariybar grimaces. ‘Dodge all you want. There’s nothing you do to stop me! In a few moments, it’ll all be over! My master will - ’”

“Yeah, listen, I heard the whole villain rant from the doorway there, so we can skip it, thanks. El?”

“One-two. Plus two. So, one-four. Fourteen,” she corrects when he gives her a look, rolling her eyes. They’ve had several disagreements where she’s made the case that her numbering system makes more sense in the end, an argument he’s found frustratingly difficult to refute - but if she’s going to be out in the world soon, she needs to learn to blend in, and that’s not how one-four-year-olds speak.

“Ok,” Wheeler says, “so you don’t know anything about this specific ritual, but you know an invocation spell like this one usually requires a focus component, and takes about a minute of concentration to cast.”

“So... the focus component is the pendant. Duh,” Max supplies.

Hopper craves a smoke, but the pack is back over on the table, which means not only would he have to unslouch to reach it, he’d have to stand. Meh. “Before your little plot twist back there I’d have made a comment about how stupid this guy is to wear an important part of his plan around his neck, out in the open like that. But I figure it must be rigged or something. That’s a thing, right? Magic booby traps or whatever?”

“It’s possible,” Dustin agrees.

“Ok. Then I pull out that knife you said I have.”

“Ariybar smirks. ‘You expect to take me down with that?’”

Hopper rubs his nose. “No. But I think it’s going to get me that little bauble around your neck.”

“‘Ha! Do your worst, hireling! This chain can’t be cut by any blade, let alone a common - ’”

“I circle round to Red and put the knife against her neck.”

“Whoa, what the hell,” Max exclaims, wide-eyed, and the rest of the group’s comments blend into the kind of cacophony Hopper usually associates with interruptions to bingo night down at the church on Thursday nights, whenever he’s called into to stop two octogenarians from tearing each other’s hair out.

“‘What are you - what are you doing?’ Ariybar demands.”

“Well,” he says, crossing his arms, “as I understand it your plan hinges on taking control of the, uh, Zoomer here. Seems like all our problems go away once she’s out of the picture.”

“Dad!” El hisses; there’s no affection in the word this time. He ignores her.

“‘You... you wouldn’t dare take an innocent life!’”

“Hey,” he shrugs, “they’re the Good guys. I’m the Neutral guy.”

“Ariybar stops levitating, feet touching the ground as he approaches you, hands raised. ‘Let’s - let’s be reasonable. Surely we can come to some arrangement. One where you don’t need to kill an innocent girl.’”

“Uh, my character’s a woman, thank you very much.”

“God Mayfield that’s not the point,” Wheeler says, either as himself or as Ariybar, Hopper can’t decide.

“Like I said,” Hopper interrupts, “this knife’s gonna get me that stone. Hand it over, and I’ll let her live.”

“Ariybar hesitates. After a moment, he reaches behind his neck and unfastens the chain, and then slips the pendant off. He plays with it a moment before slowly approaching and extending a hand to give it to you.”

“I keep my knife to her throat as I reach out to take it. Uh, I say, ‘Any funny business and she’s a goner.’” Jesus, he sounds like a 40s movie gangster. “‘You saw how fast I moved back there; don’t think my hand is any slower.’ - That’s, uh, true, right?” he asks as an aside. Dustin gives him a thumbs-up.

“Ariybar scowls and drops the stone into your hand.”

“Good. Now back off.”

“He does.”

“Woo-hoo!” Lucas cheers. “Nice thinking, Chief.”

Hopper twists his mouth and studies Wheeler, who’s managing a decent poker face. “Gave it up too easily,” he mutters in reply, and then, experiencing a sudden burst of energy, sits up nearly an entire half an inch. “Is there a way to be sure this thing isn’t another illusion?”

“You can roll to disbelieve it.”

He does, using the same bulky die as before when directed. “19.”

Lucas makes a noise. “Damn, man. Talk about beginner’s luck.”

“You can’t be 100% positive your attempt worked, but you feel confident that the stone you’re holding is real. It pulses with an otherworldly heat; magic is definitely flowing through it.”

“If I have quick hands, does that mean I have quick fingers? You know, uh, like...”

“Sleight-of-hand skills?” Wheeler asks. Hopper nods. “Sure. I think that’s reasonable.”

“Alright. Then I’m going to lower my knife and walk around behind the rest of the group. Will, do you still have that sack you were carrying around earlier?”

Will is wide-eyed and more animated than Hopper’s ever seen him; he’s been that way all day, not included play breaks, every time Hopper’s looked up to check in on the story. Uh - on the players, he means. Anyway, it’s kind of adorable. “My satchel? Yeah. It’s pretty full, though.”

“That’s fine. I’m gonna sneak the stone into the top of the bag as I pass by.”

“Ok. Give me another d20 roll.”

“11.”

Half the party groans, and for a second Hopper assumes he’s failed the roll or something. He reevaluates when El, smiling widely, leans forward to give the slightly pinkening Wheeler a peck on the lips.

“Every. Single. Eleven,” Dustin complains.

Hopper grimaces. “Maybe cut the PDA while I’m playing,” he suggests firmly. He tries his best not to get too overbearing-father-figure with El these days, especially when it comes to Wheeler - part of him does feel guilty for keeping them separated for a year, and an even deeper part of him has internalized the sting of El’s recitation of numbered days, the terrible realization that, at least on some occasions, she saw him as a warden more than a protector - but that doesn’t mean he won’t enforce boundaries where appropriate.

El shakes her head at him, though, still looking giddy. “Tradition,” she states plainly, and directs her smile at him.

It’s not fair that she can melt his heart with a look like that. His heart is supposed to be a big, hairy, manly heart, a heart like weathered concrete, and, you know, a whole bunch of other clumsily mixed metaphors. (His physician has other adjectives for it, but that’s neither here nor there.) He mutters something unintelligible and turns his attention back to the game. “So...”

Mike unflusters himself. “Yeah. The stone goes in without incident.” He makes a roll behind his wall/shield/screen.

“Good,” Hopper says. “Now all that’s left is for you to release these... adventurers, and point me in the direction of the princess.”

“You said you crossed the room?” Wheeler confirms.

“Uh... yeah, I guess I’d have to, right? If I went behind Will?” He moves Buff Gandhi to a new position on the board.

“Then Ariybar mutters an incantation and the runes flash white. Give me another d20 roll.”

“...4.” Beginner’s luck, huh.

“The light fades and you find yourself in the same state as the others, frozen in place.”

“Son of a bitch,” Dustin sighs.

“ - I mean, is anyone surprised?” Lucas asks with frustration. “What exactly was your plan, here? You basically gave up your hostage, which was the only thing stopping him from...” He trails off as Hopper fixes him with a death glare.

Ariybar picks up for him, though. “‘You arrogant fool!’ Ariybar exclaims, approaching you.” Wheeler has a cocksure smile on his face, and Hopper has another urge to exercise his Monkly proclivities for introducing smug looks to closed fists. “‘Assuming I’d just let you leave, even after you abandoned your advantage? After I’d given you my pendant?’ He cackles and crosses to Will.”

“I bare my teeth at him,” Will says, demonstrating with feeling.

“He reaches into your pack. ‘And this - this was supposed to fool me? This stone is bound to me; I would know its precise whereabouts even had you carried it halfway around the world!’ He pulls out the stone and backs away.”

Max shakes her head. “Damnit. I really thought we had him there, for a minute.” She kicks the side of the couch. “Well. Nice knowing you, everybody.”

“Still think you made it too damn hard,” Dustin mutters at Wheeler.

“Well the last three sessions you said everything was too easy! What was I supposed to - ”

“Come on, guys,” Will says, with the weary determination of a boy who has seen things. The thought occurs to Hopper as something humorous, at first, until he remembers that of course Will has seen things, felt things, lived through things, beyond anything he can really understand. “The Chief did a great job giving us a second chance. There must be something...” he says, though it’s more of a plea than anything else.

“No one’s saying he didn’t,” Lucas assures. “But we’re all paralyzed, now. Unless another one of our parents has been secretly listening in outside and decides to join in, I’m pretty sure we’re well and truly screwed.”

“The runes turn green again as Ariybar lifts off the ground; judging by the intensity of the light, he’s picking up where he left off.”

El looks at Wheeler pleadingly, who looks pained for a moment before he bites his lip and shifts his divider to block her gaze. By the time she turns that gaze to Hopper, it’s only gotten more intense. “We have to do something!”

He keeps his focus on Wheeler, stone-faced.

The kid glances around the faces of the others - apologetically? To check for last-minute strokes of genius, maybe - before he takes a deep breath and announces, “The green of the runes becomes absolutely toxic and pulses once, twice, three times, then fades to lifeless black. ‘IT IS DONE!’ Ariybar announces, cackling wildly as he settles to the floor. Max, that sinister energy you felt earlier consumes you entirely - hundreds of souls enslaved to your will, and beyond them a looming darkness in the back of your mind: your father, the Tyrant, ready to receive them, to be - ”

Hopper clears his throat. “I can talk, right?”

Mike frowns. There’s silence for a second or two as everyone pulls themselves out of the moment. “...I mean... yeah. I guess. Everybody else could, so...”

“Good. Zoomer, do me a favor, would you, tell this guy to shut the hell up?”

Max frowns. Everybody frowns. “...I don’t...” She glances uncertainly at Lucas, then at Wheeler, then at Hopper. “What do you...”

Hopper sits up so that he can lean forward, resting his elbows on his knees and interlacing his fingers. “Will, remind us what the last item you put in your bag was?”

Will creases his brow, looks decidedly confused. “Um...”

“I’ll help jog your memory. Unless I’m mistaken, it was right after you all found that scrap from the princess’s dress.”

Will blinks. “In the back of the amulet shop. Yeah, that’s right. I picked up one of the amulets so that we could test...” His eyes widen.

“That’s right. You did. To test its effects, or something. And I seem to recall that this - what was it he called me? Arrogant fool? - that this arrogant fool said anyone who’s touched one of these amulets would be under the Zoomer’s control as soon as his ritual finished. Your pack was pretty full, and that amulet you picked up would’ve been on top. Poor guy should’ve worn gloves. But we know he didn’t. Wheeler said he’d described everything Ariybar was wearing.” Hopper lets the smirk he’s been sitting on creep out onto his face.

Max blinks. “Stop talking!” she shouts suddenly.

Hopper blinks back, until he realizes she’s addressing Ariybar, following Hopper’s advice. Wheeler realizes it too, after a minute, and then it’s his turn to blink. “Uhh - um...” He lets out a single, breathy, kind of dumbstruck laugh. “Yeah. - Yeah, ok.

“I guess Ariybar shuts the hell up.”

~

Afterwards there’s laughter and high-fives and a surplus of dessert waffles, in-jokes and anecdotes and way too many sci-fi references. At one point (and, admittedly, with the help of a couple of beers) Hopper finds himself getting a little too involved watching what’s gradually turned into a dramatic reenactment of the group’s last adventure, to the extent that when they slay the big bad he actually lets out the kind of whoop he usually reserves for hometown football games.

Wheeler’s the last to leave, as usual. And, as usual, Hopper can’t help eavesdropping on the extended goodbye.

“That was fun.”

“Yeah - yeah, it was. Sorry if it was weird, bringing Hopper in like that.”

“Mm-mm. It was good. He had fun.”

“I guess so. - You know he was actually pretty good.”

“He’s the best. Like you.”

A break in the dialogue. No mystery as to the cause.

“I’ll radio you tomorrow?”

“Tonight.”

“Deal.” Hopper can hear the smile in Wheeler’s voice.

“Not promise?” He can hear the teasing in hers.

“Can’t hurt to shake things up now and then.”

“Fine.” Another pause. “Deal.”

And then he’s off.

~

End of day the following Monday Flo stops him in the hall as he’s pulling on his jacket. “Chief,” she says, frowning down through her glasses at a piece of paper in her hand.

“What can I do for you, Florence?” he says pleasantly.

She glances up at him skeptically. “You’re chipper.”

“That’s because I’m leaving.”

She makes an unamused noise, which he likes to think means she’s amused. “I was just going over the office supplies requests. Tell me, what do we need - ” she adjusts her bifocals -  “‘polyhedral dice’ for, exactly?”

Hopper glances around the office - no one else around to overhear, thank god - and scratches his chin. “Training exercises,” he answers after a moment, as he pushes past her and out the door, a small smile playing at his lips.

#mileven #stranger things #jim hopper #mike wheeler #el hopper #eleven #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #will byers #fanfiction #st fanfiction #lumax #dungeons and dragons #jane hopper

[fears--all-the-way-down]

His phone had vibrated for the 6th time in a half hour. She could see the pallor in his face, the little vein in his neck pulsing uncontrollably. Lucas was getting angry. After so many years of friendship and hatred directed at her, Max knew what it looked like when Lucas was agitated. This was the picture of Lucas’s aggravation. The last person he probably wanted to walk over and ask him what was wrong was probably her. But considering that Mike was backstage getting ready to perform, Will and El were taking turns with shots, and Dustin was talking to his new girlfriend it left Max as the only observant option. Settling into the chair beside him she slid one of the beers that had previously been in her hand into his view, “trouble in paradise?” when he didn’t greet her with a middle finger she knew that this was not the typical Lucas she was used to. “What happened to it being all sunshine and rainbows with a new baby?” A strangled grunt left Lucas’s sternum. “Little man is great, don’t get me wrong.” with the amount of photos their group chat got of the new baby he better have been. She was pretty sure that Lucas wasn’t faking that one. “This shit at 21? Not part of my plan.” she could commensurate there, the thought of freedom and everything else being dead before ever really getting a chance to play with it sounded scary as fuck. “All Lisa does is complain.” she could have told him that from the moment he’d asked her to homecoming. But who was she to judge? She was the girl who’d dumped him for his best friend pretty much. Max finished the bottle she’d been drinking and set it aside before putting her hand on his shoulder. It was probably more contact than either of them had dealt one another in years. “You’re both adjusting to being parents, Lucas. That’s a big as shit deal.” there was a tiny human relying on them for everything. Not to mention a brand new house and being newlyweds. She wouldn’t have wished his life on anyone. “She went out with Crystal and them the other night and I never bothered her once.” as he spoke she held her hand up, catching the eye of the bartender and signifying to him to bring over a couple more drinks. Not that she wasn’t already at capacity already. “Yet she can’t give me the same respect. It’s all ...come home now. Can’t get him to stop crying. She’s his mother for fucksake.” If Lisa was having trouble being a mother, Max couldn’t imagine what her life would have been like. “I don’t know, I think this might have been the worst decision of my life.”instead of taking her own shot, she pushed both of the ones that had been brought over to Lucas. He needed it more than she did at the moment and her head was already in a light swirl. This wasn’t her area of expertise. Hell, she hadn’t ever actually been in a relationship, never mind married with a kid. The shots were down in a matter of seconds and she watched as the phone beside his hand vibrated again. That pulse in his neck started stronger. It was the first time that Max could actually say that her heart was breaking for him. There was no malice or “I told you so” in her mind. “Come on, I have an idea.”pulling the shoulder of her jacket aside, she revealed the white roll pinned down by her bra strap. It was the first time all night she’d seen him smile. Ladies room was her pick of choice. They all knew that there weren’t any cameras or smoke detectors in the small Maine dive bar that they’d all driven out to for the weekend. He followed her in without complaint and only voiced his disgust as she hopped up onto the counter top. “Sorry Mr. Prim and Proper.” she shrugged as she pulled out the joint and her brother’s lighter and flicked it to life to ignite the paper. “So what’s the deal with you anyway? You weasel your way into Dust’s bed for the weekend of my wedding and then cut shit right after?” Oh no, she’d only taken one hit, she wasn’t entirely ready for the conversation he wanted to have just yet. Instead she coughed out a breath and handed the roll over to him, “You’re always fucking with him, Slut.” it was said without snap, an observation on his part. One that made her smirk, “or fucking him.” Dark eyes and blues met for a moment in annoyance as she took the joint back from him and brought it to her lips, “No, uh… I guess I just came to my senses that I’m not good enough for him.” because in her honest moments that was exactly how she felt. She was always nearly screwing up his life and if anyone didn’t deserve that, it was Dustin. They stood in silence for a moment, “Was it his?” it was a question she knew he’d been dying to ask since he’d found out what they’d been doing sophomore year. Why Lucas had always been so invested in that situation she didn’t understand. Then again it was her mistake of going to the clinic his mother worked at to begin with. She guessed she deserved his wonders. There weren’t words said, instead, she nodded her head with a delayed honesty. It had taken her five years for the truth to come out to anyone who wasn’t Dustin or Eleven. “When did you guys…” she knew what he was doing here. He was trying to figure out what had bottomed out in their relationship and why she’d just given up. Trying to figure out if his best friend was the cause of his heartbreak. The one he never quite seemed to get over. “I wasn’t ready Lucas. It wasn’t you, I just…” she trailed off as she watched him blow a puff of smoke towards the ceiling. He’d tried freshmen year, he’d tried and she’d blown him off every time. They were comfortable for a middle school relationship but she hadn’t seen anything past that in him. There was a laugh, only it was a bitter one, “wanted to screw my best friend?” his brow peaked up, as she took the joint from him and edged back towards the mirror on the counter top. He’d walked forward, hands on the countertop on the sides of her thighs. His expression showed frustration and amusement. A typical Sinclair stance. It annoyed her. “Trust me Lucas, he was a lot better than you would have been anyway. Always has been.” that was still something she stuck by, even if it probably wasn’t what Lucas needed to hear at the moment. They’d never really been ones to dish out compliments to one another. Not even back in the days that their childish relationship had been a focus. Brutal honesty was what she liked to think of it as. He was close to her now, breath that tasted like bitters, beer, and marajuana was on her lips and not from her own breathing either. Fuck. “I highly doubt that.” yup, there it was, his hand moving onto her leg, up her thigh. She should have stopped it, should have kicked him in the chest and told him to grow up and quit living in the past. But it was the spite that ran through Max then. The conversation that she’d had with Lisa months ago when his wife had told her she wasn’t good enough for Dustin. When she’d questioned her if she’d slept with their whole little friend group. It was the thought of proving him wrong in something, that Lucas Sinclair was not in fact as good as he thought he was. Because they’d never been compatible in that way, because her interest when it came to him was all for snark. Max wasn’t sure who’d made the move then or how it happened but before her intoxicated brain could process anything their lips were in a familiar place that didn’t make her heart skip beats or a rumble of butterflies fill her stomach. Instead, the electricity in her veins was pure competition He was always too grabby, too forceful, too full of himself. As he pulled at her leggings she felt clumsy fingers gripping in all of the spaces that Dustin would have graced. Always pushy and expectant. Just as she would have expected of him. Things were escalating too fast, they were both drunk and high. Not that it was any excuse. But the door not opened right then the regrets they both might have had afterwards would have been worse by the tenfold. Max felt herself come back to her senses instantaneously as the woman in the door apologized. Finally, the redhead looked over at the door only to spot Amy, Dustin’s girlfriend, with her hand over her mouth staring at them. FUCK.

#continuity: speak now #speak now: flashback

[imagineaworlds]

Lucky -- Jane Ives (Eleven)

Written By: @aliedelanie

Request: “Hi can I request an imagine where the reader is eleven’s “lost” sister and reunites with her when she meets back with mike , Lucas and Dustin . Thankyou xx”

Warnings: None.

Pairing: Janes Ives (Eleven) x Sister!Reader

Words: 964

Listen to: Silhouette by Aquilo

I was lucky. It had taken over nineteen years for me to find her, but I did, and that was all that mattered. Nearly eleven years, I had been searching for my sister. I knew that she was alive, people thought I was crazy, but I had this deep feeling that she was alive. The only thing I knew about her was her real name, and that was because of my Aunt. When I went to visit Mama, she was barely alive, but my Aunt told me that my sister was alive, and that she had seen her recently. Jane Ives. Jane Ives was my sister’s name, and she was so close. My Aunt claimed she came from a small town called Hawkins in Indiana, and that I might find her there, so I took every last penny I had to get a bus to Hawkins.

When I got there, no one had heard of a Jane Ives. Someone had noticed my desperation and pointed me to the Sheriff’s station where I could ask a man named Sheriff Jim Hopper if he had ever heard her. Unfortunately, this Hopper man wasn’t at the stations, but his deputies radioed him, and his interest was instantly peaked at the mention of my sister’s name.

After having sped to the station, Hopper came storming into the station and spotted me, his jaw nearly falling off. “I’m sorry…” he apologized, taking me to his office. His voice was hushed, “You just look exactly like her—  or how she will look in a few years, I guess.”

I froze, “You know my sister?”

Hopper nodded, pulling me into his office and slammed the door shut, locking it. He went to his desk and pulled a file out of a locked drawer. “This is your sister.” He gave me the file. Inside, there were pictures of Jane from when she was a baby until what I assumed to be current. Jim was right, Jane was a spitting image of me when I was her age.

“Where is she?” I asked.

Hopper took out a smoke, “That’s a great question.”

“You mean you don’t know?” I continued flipping through the pictures, “Are you her adoptive father or something?”

He shook his head, “Or something. Listen, kid, as much as I want to give you the answers you’re looking for, I’m not the one you should be asking. But I’ll take you to someone who can answer your questions if you want.” I nodded vigorously. “But if I do this, you have to keep your mouth shut about her, people here in Hawkins don’t exactly know about her.” I didn’t bother to ask what that meant, worrying that all of my questions would scare him off.

****

I was sitting in a destroyed bedroom with three boys sitting across from me. Mike, Dustin, and Lucas were the kids Hopper had introduced me to for information on my sister. By the sound of their stories about her, they knew her well, some more than others. They constantly called her El, and at first I wondered why, but as they explained her story, I grew to understand.

Mike was the most talkative about her. I realized that they were close. “Why is it now that you’ve come looking for her?” he asked me.

I was taken aback by his blunt question. “I’ve been searching for her nearly all of my life… I just never got any clues as to where she was until about a year ago when I found out that my mother and Aunt are still alive. My Aunt was the one to tell me to come here.”

“Guys!” Hopper yelled from the living room. “They’re here!” His voice was filled with panic, and I became confused about what he was referring to.

Yet, the boys seemed to know and sprinted to the living room. “Mike, what is it?” I asked him.

He turned to me, “The demodogs—  They’re like mini demogorgons.” I followed them into the living room where Nancy, Mike’s sister; Jonathan and Joyce, Will’s brother and mother; Max, Hopper, and Steve were. Each of them armed themselves with a weapon as there was an alarming screeching noise from outside. We all turned to the sounds as they came in every directions, until the window broke and a figure came flying through, It landed on the ground, and for the first time in my life, I saw a demodog. It was small, like a dog, but it’s face was spread open like a bloomed flower, with thousands of teeth everywhere. Someone behind me had asked if it was dead, and in response, Hopper kicked the demodog with it’s foot. “It’s dead,” Mike confirmed.

Everyone relaxed for a moment, before there was a creak outside of the door and the lock magically turned. The door opened slowly, and there, standing in the doorway, was a girl. Those holding weapons, slowly lowered them, there eyes widening in shock, as well as mine. I took a step forward revealing myself to her, “Jane?” I asked cautiously, not knowing if I would frighten her.

“[y/n]?” she asked back, my name sounding foreign when she said it. I swallowed my shock, a smile crawling onto my face.

Hopper stepped forward, “You know her?” he asked Jane.

She nodded, “I’ve visited her… she’s my sister.” I ran to her, relief and all kinds of happiness floating around me as we embraced tightly. Our hug was fairly short, though, and I understood why. We were still strangers, while she had family there who hadn’t seen her in a long time. But I knew that in due time, Jane and I would grow close. I found my sister, and I knew that I was never letting her go.

#stranger things #eleven #eleven imagine #eleven imagines #eleven fluff #jane ives #jane ives imagine #jane ives imagines #jane ives fluff #imagine #imagines #fluff

[alabasterswriting]

Your Hand Next to Mine

“Where t-there’s life there’s...hope, and n-need for...v-vi-vit-”

“Vittles,” Will Byers whispered into the darkness of the cabin. “It means food...I think. It’s a really old word.”

El’s lips rounded in understanding. Their shared flashlight illuminated the page of Will’s worn copy of Lord of the Rings, and somewhere in the other room Dustin’s loud snores could be heard through the tiny crack in the door. “Oh, and they need v-vittles to help them on their journey?”

“Yeah,” Will nodded. “You always need food before a long trip. If you don’t you could starve and you’d never get anywhere.”

“Dustin likes Nutty Bars,” El mused, a far-off look in her eyes as she replayed a memory in her head. “And...putting?”

Her companion snorted, good-natured like that told El he wasn’t making fun of her but was still amused by whatever blunder she had inadvertently made. “Pudding,” he corrected, “specifically chocolate pudding. Never vanilla. He hates vanilla.”

“Vanilla is bad?”

“No. Well,” he shrugged, “I don’t think so. Don’t tell Dustin, but I think it’s better.”

She giggled into her hand, flashlight shaking and causing the book on her lap to jostle just enough for them to lose the page. It put an immediate stop to their mirth, and El’s eyes widened despondently at her mistake. “No,” she murmured, fingers instantly moving to flip through the pages in an effort to find the lost spot.

“Hey, it’s okay,” the bowl-headed boy soothed. He reached across to grab at the tome and pulled it gently from her grasp with a smile. “I do it all the time.”

She slid him a side-glance that said she didn’t quite believe him.

“I do!” He defended. “Usually it’s ‘cause I’m trying to draw something and I always lose the page, but it happens.” He gave another little shrug to show her it really was alright, and this time she allowed herself to believe it. There was just something so completely earnest in the way he spoke that it was impossible not to. “Though,” and here his face took on a more apologetic expression: brow furrowed and nose twisted, “it is getting late. Hopper said he wanted to leave early tomorrow. We probably should have been asleep hours ago.”

“Oh.” She looked down at her lap, grey pajama pants only visible through the light of their torch, and pulled her knees to her chest. “Right.” The warmth emanating from the fire pit didn’t reach in here and their scant emergency blankets just weren't enough to keep in the type of heat necessary for comfort.

They shivered.

Their surroundings resembled a bunker. Had they known of the term, they would have been more apt to call it a panic room. Stockpiled with nonperishables and a lone cot, the cramped chamber was bare of all other forms of personality. It lacked the wood paneling that made up the rest of the cabin, and the cozy touches Hopper had smuggled in over the past year of Eleven’s inhabitance were starkly missing. An air vent was the only point of access to the outside so that in the event someone had to camp out here they wouldn’t suffocate. When the door was closed it was impossible to find. Which was, of course, the point.

Anyone stumbling upon the cabin couldn’t know Eleven was ever there.

“But,” Will began into the pregnant silence, “I guess I’m not that sleepy, yet. You?”

El vigorously shook her head. No, sleep was not something she wanted to do.

“Well, if we’re not going to sleep, what do you want to do?”

What did she want to do? It was a question El still had trouble coming to terms with. Very rarely in her life had anyone ever asked what she wanted. Even with her friends, the word “want” was scarcely used. Considering the circumstances, this was understandable - no one seemed to be doing anything they “wanted” to do - but still, El couldn’t deny it felt nice to hear. They were living very much by necessity at the moment. It was...good to think about wanting something.

She eyed the book. They’d been reading for a while. Rather, Will had been reading and El had taken turns plucking out little paragraphs like a five-year-old trying to read their first chapter book. The only problem being that El still hadn’t gotten through the basics of Dick and Jane. But hey, she tried.

Papa had always been more interested in her abilities than her education.

“Do you want to keep reading?” Will soft voice broke through her musings. His sunken eyes were trained on where her fingers had delicately begun to trace the book’s pages, and Eleven was all at once struck by how skeletal he looked. The shadows created by their solitary light source spun divots out of his flesh, and Eleven had little doubt she could lift him up and not suffer a single nosebleed. Shave his head and put him in a hospital gown and he would have fit right in at the lab. 

The thought made her stomach turn painfully.

She shook her head, hand drawing back to her lap; she was tired of reading. The words had long ago begun to strain her eyes, though she’d enjoyed the story. Part of her wanted Will to continue for her, but she could only imagine how hard that would be for him if her minuscule attempts caused this much discomfort. Even her legs ached. Experience told her it would be worse come morning, but she couldn’t bring herself to move away. Will was simultaneously a furnace and cold as a corpse.

An aftereffect, she supposed, from the Upside Down.

“Okay,” Will said when she didn’t elaborate, “well, I’d say we could talk but...”

It hung in the air.

Neither one of them was much for talking and they both knew it. Without a focus, such an exchange would lead to talking and neither one of them was quite ready for that conversation just yet.

Will hummed in the back of his throat. Vibrations undulated through Eleven’s body, brought about from where she’d been resting against his side. It was soothing. Not quite in the same way as being nestled against Mike, but then it didn’t have to be. She liked it all the same.

“Have you ever drawn before?” Eleven felt him shift against her. He felt bigger if that made any sense, and there was a restrained quality to his voice that she’d grown to associate with people who didn’t want to get their hopes up.

She maneuvered to meet his gaze. Brown met brown (no, she corrected in her head, green. His eyes looked green.) and Eleven was stunned to find a flicker of - excitement? nervousness? hope? - light shining behind orbs that she had only ever seen somber.

Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She liked the sight.

But drawing? Eleven tried to remember what that was. A hazy image of Papa telling her how good she’d been came unbidden to her mind. Her natural instinct was to shake it away, but she saw paper there, and brightly color sticks made of wax. It made her...happy. Papa dissolved against the novelty of drawing.

“Yes,” she answered, the image still in her head. “Once.” Papa had even let her keep the picture.

“Really?” He asked. The light El was truly beginning to enjoy grew, and she found herself smiling back at him as his lips twitched. “Do you want to do it again? I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t want, but I thought it might be-”

“Yes,” El said again. If she was surprised by her own assertiveness it didn’t register. She was too transfixed by the way Will’s whole face just radiated with that special light. Her own cheeks hurt with how wide she was grinning. “I want to draw.”

“O-okay, umm...” his doe-eyes trailed the room as if looking for something to use, but he already knew it was a moot point. Drawing was not a necessity to survival and so such supplies would not be found here. Will turned to her, face scrunching in reluctance. “Do you mind if I go outside for a second? I should have enough stuff there.”

"Mm,” El bobbed her head, though part of her was reluctant to let him go. She crushed it as easily as she had that long ago coke can.  

Will beamed. “Great! Be right back.” He pulled himself up and El was suddenly left with feeling empty without his presence beside her. She shook off the sensation, telling herself it was foolish, and trailed him as he meandered his way on tiptoe out the door and into the orange glow of the adjoining chamber.

It was as if all the life had been sapped from the room.

Stale air rushed in. The bare walls seemed that much closer and her palms grew sweaty. Her eyes flickered wildly about the bunker and she brought Will’s book close to her chest. It smelled like musk and the properly moldy scent of Castle Byers. Shadows teased the edge of her little circle of light.

El inhaled deeply. She shut her eyes and concentrated. Focusing her attention, she was able to pinpoint the little vibrations of everyone else in the cabin. Dustin was abuzz with energy as usual and his snores drifted into the room like a strange lullaby, while Lucas, silent and protective, was more soothing. She could feel them; they were close together. Max was somewhere nearby, a feisty zing on the edge of Eleven’s senses. It was almost enough to make her laugh as she watched the other girl’s energy beat back Dustin and Lucas’ even in her sleep. Miss Joyce, Hopper and Mr. Bob were further away, each strategically placed around the room so as to cover every possible entrance, and Nancy, Jonathan, and Steve were huddled together by the fire, all passed out on top of each other.

She huddled closer to the wall. She wasn’t alone. She wasn’t...

“Mike.” The air seemed to clear just with the single utterance of his name. He was a beacon to her, a star that banked all the others, enveloping everything even in here where her only lumination came from a tiny flashlight procured out of a stash of emergency items. It was enough to chase the shadows away even if the effect was only temporary.

There was a flash of red in her peripheral that startled her out of the calm Mike had blanketed her in. It was sent her mind spiraling and her heart pulsating erratically in her chest. God, if it pounded any further it would surely burst. The atmosphere froze, but it did so in such a way that she felt like she was being burned.

Something whispered.

“El?” The girl whipped around. Her eyes were wide with fright, body heaving in order to get enough air, and she swallowed back bile as she met Will’s gaze.

He didn’t look much better.

White knuckles gripped his bulging backpack, and a collection of cans lay sprawled at his feet. His skin was pallid, his shoulders shaking. He eyed the room wildly as if seeing something else.

And, like always, he was a void in her mind.

“Will,” she uttered through shaky lips. Whatever he saw, she could only find flashes, but it was enough for her to know she didn’t want it anywhere near him. “Will,” she said again, pushing more confidence into her voice than she necessarily felt.

“El.” He was back. Somewhat. Will’s chest rose and fell at a rate that put even her’s to shame, but his hazel orbs were focused. At least he was here, and not there.

“A-are you...okay?” El cringed internally. What kind of a question was that? Of course, he wasn’t okay.

But, as she was beginning to understand was typical for the boy, he hastily brushed her concern aside. “Y-yeah. I’m okay.” He cast his eyes to the fallen cans and made a hurried attempt to pick them up. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to drop these.”

He was lying. At least, he was lying about being okay. Any other person and El would have called them out on it, but Will was different. She’d brought it up only once, but that once was enough. 

“Sometimes, friends lie because the truth is too scary. Not all lies are bad, and truth doesn’t always fix things.”

It went against everything she’d learned from Mike, but there was something about the way Will had said it that shut down any argument she could have made. Instead, she’d just filed it away for later analysis. One day, it might all make sense.

She felt the cot shift as Will sat down and began to pull out various items from his sack. His hands shook.

“So, I found this,” he began, pulling out a camper’s lamp that, when turned on, had enough power to illuminate the whole room. “I also got my crayons, paper, pencils, and then I found these paints hidden in a storage closet.” He held up one of the six cans. “Not quite sure why they were there, but I’ve got paintbrushes if you wanted to try them.”

Eleven reached out her hand to graze the handle of one of the brushes. She’d never seen anything like it. The residual fear still coursing through her settled under the novelty of discovering something so new.

“How do you...?” She waved her hand about, hoping he would pick up on what she was asking.

Will smiled. His hands steadied. “How do you use it?” She nodded and he reached over to pop the lid of the can open with one of his pencils. It lifted to reveal a shimmering blue color not dissimilar to Dustin’s eyes, and Eleven marveled.

“Okay,” Will began, leaping into his “Mr. Clarke” voice. He moved off the cot so that he was kneeling on the wood-paneled floor and beckoned El to follow him. Her curiosity rising, she quickly maneuvered herself so that she was pressing against him and eyed as he pulled out a clean sheet of white paper. “So I already washed the brushes, which is really important ‘cause you can get dust and dirt and stuff in the paint if you’re not careful. That’s bad,” he added upon noticing her furrowed brow.

Her lips formed a little “O” and she watched, mesmerized, as he dipped the brush into the paint. “Can you put your hand like this?” He splayed his hand on top of the paper, stretching the fingers as far as they would go.

Hesitantly, not sure where he was going with this, Eleven copied him, doing the same on top of the floor. Will smiled. “Good, but...” he gently grasped hold of her wrist and moved her hand so that it was atop the paper. “Okay, now hold still.”

Paintbrush carefully in his grasp, Will slowly began to trace her hand. A burst of giggles erupted from her mouth at the sensation.

“It tickles,” she said, as if she needed an explanation to laugh.

“Yeah, it does that. Now, lift your hand up - slowly!” He added when she began to move, apparently too quickly for his tastes.

The result was a pretty little blue outline of Eleven’s hand and she couldn’t help the giddy tug her lips made at the sight. It was her hand.

“You can turn it into anything now. A lot of teachers have us make them up into turkeys during Thanksgiving, but,” he shrugged, “that’s kind of boring.”

El wasn’t sure what a turkey was or a Thanksgiving, but the picture was fun and the brush tickled pleasantly along her skin. She eyed the paintbrush greedily. Her hand, edges crusting with drying blue paint, twitched forward. “Can I...can I try?”

“Hm?” Will raised an eyebrow, before her words hit and he hastily handed over the brush. “Sure! You can trace my hand. Sound good?”

It sounded wonderful and Will was quick to procure a new piece of paper just for the occasion. She dipped the brush back into the blue can and swirled it around, amazed.

“Careful to wipe off any extra paint,” Will pointed out. “Too much and it makes a mess.”

El bobbed her head and slowly wiped the brush against the edge of the can like she’d seen him do earlier. Then, her fingers shaking with anticipation, she brought it down beside his hand and began to trace. Blue splotches flew across the sheet, but she was having too much fun to care. It just seemed to glide about the paper.

Will giggled and teased, “It tickles.”

In the end, her attempt wasn’t nearly as neat or pretty as Will’s, but he was quick to assure her that it was great for her first attempt. “You just need to practice more,” he said as he popped open the green can. “Wanna try again?”

She did and somehow the two managed to get through the entire stack of paper in what felt like a minute. The first one turned into a turkey, though Will was quick to assure her they weren’t actually blue, and the green, red, and yellow ones became a dragon, a dog, and a lion respectively. They both were covered in paint by the end, skin cracking as it dried, and they’d abandoned the brushes at one point for something Will called “finger painting.”

El really liked that one.

By the time they were finished, the two were breathless with laughter and had long foregone checking the door in the event someone woke up. The room was meant to be soundproof anyway, especially now that the door was completely closed, but it would be just like Hopper to somehow magically know they were still up.

Will flicked away a splatter of green from El’s cheek, replacing it with the yellow stubbornly attached to his fingers. His face was flushed with exhilaration and he was still pushing down giggles as he said, “I think we’re going to need more paper.”

“Bigger paper?” The curly-haired curl requested hopefully. She’s begun to arrange her menagerie of animal paintings into one giant portrait; all she was missing was some tape.

“Definitely.” Though he wasn’t sure how they were going to acquire such things at this time of night without alerting someone. He peeled off a particularly large splotch of red paint from his hand and tossed it onto the now messy floor. The wood looked like some type of failed splatter painting.

Actually...

Will eyed the whitewashed walls intently. The room really was bare.

“Hey, El?” He waited until he had her full attention. “What do you think about adding some more color to this room.”

Her brow creased and she stared at him for a moment before following his gaze to the walls. Will recognized the exact moment she understood. Her face went slack, her dark eyes widened and, somewhere deep inside them, a spark ignited.

“Really?” She whispered, awed by the very notion. Her body was tense and she looked about ready to leap into the sky.

Idly, Will wondered if it was possible for her to fly.

He held up one of the cans. “Only one way to find out.”

They flew to their feet, speckled brushes tight in their grasps, and launched forward with childish abandon.

“What do you want to do first?” The bowl-headed boy asked. Ideas raced through his brain at a dizzying pace and there were just too many for him to make a decision.

El tapped her lip. “It can be anything?”

“Yeah. We could paint more turkeys, or-or a wizard! No, we could make a castle or a zoo or mountains or-”

“Trees?”

“Trees?” He bit his lower lip. Will had always enjoyed nature, but trees had the unfortunate side-effect of reminding him too much of that place: the overgrowth, the branches that might as well have been the monster’s claws, the too-loud sounds they made whenever he walked. They didn’t even offer safety.

But...El looked so hopeful. He couldn’t crush that.

“Yeah,” he said after a minute. “We could do trees.”

“Pretty trees,” she added. “In the summer.” Her eyes bore into the side of his head as if she knew exactly where his thoughts had wandered. She probably did.

Eleven hadn’t been in the Upside Down long, but you didn’t have to be for it to get into you.

“Summer,” he whispered, turning the word over on his tongue as if tasting how it sounded. Slowly, so so slowly, he found himself warming to the idea. Summer was about as far one could get from the Upside Down. “Yeah, we could do that.”

El smiled. It was brilliant.

They started small, each one taking a different side. Will blended colors together in order to get just the right shades of brown, and they finally popped open the white and black paints after much debate. El didn’t understand how they would help offer any sort of color, while Will was much more adamant about their importance towards creating the perfect atmosphere.

Will won.

Their forest began to bloom. Will added textures, bring the trees to life, and El, her drawings simplistic only from lack of experience, added a few pink flowers here and there. They stood on the cot in order to reach higher, skin becoming more and more indecipherable from under all the paint. They giggled and yelped as their brushes fought for space. A yellow sun beat down on the leaves, one so realistic they could almost feel its warmth.

It was beautiful.

“You’re really good,” El said as she compared their work. Will’s side was breathtaking. It had depth and life and it was almost eerie how tangible everything seemed. She felt that if she tried she could just keep walking right through the plaster and enter what was clearly an enchanted forest. Her own painting was abysmal in comparison.

“Thanks,” he blushed. “So is your’s. I love the flowers.” She shot him a glance drowning in disbelief. The flowers looked like she’d slammed the brush down somewhere and pushed too hard. “I do! You’ve never painted before today, right? I’d say you’re already better than Mike.”

“Really?” El wasn’t sure how that made her feel.

“Definitely. You should’ve seen his last attempt. Mrs. Kimbolt - our second-grade teacher - almost pulled the brush right out his hand it was so bad.”

“It was?”

“Yep. Poor Mike hasn’t painted since.” El felt like she should have been defending her not-quite-more-than-friend, but the way Will’s eyes danced with mirth put a stop to that urge quickly. She’d spent enough time with Dustin to know that friends could make fun of each other without being mean about it.

She was sure Mike would forgive her this one laugh.

“You just need more practice,” Will declared, mouth sliding into a grin. “And that’s just perfect for us ‘cause we have three more walls that need painting and only so much time to do it. So,” he lifted up one of the brushes, “what should we do next?”

They ended up extending the forest, only this time Will added a castle (affectionally named Castle Friendship), and little miniatures of their friends appeared on the horizon. Dungeon Master Mike stood at the head, while Will the Wise Wizard cast spells against what might have been a dragon named Billy. Dustin the Dwarf and Sir Lucas the Daring Knight appeared next to sly Rogue Max and the Sorceress Eleven as they all fought their shared enemy together to rescue Princess Nancy.

The forest then traveled to the next wall where it thinned out into a clean white beach and shimmering ocean. Neither of the children had ever been to the beach before (unless the gravel of the lake next to Will’s great-aunt’s house counted), and so they only had what they’d seen on TV for reference, but it still turned out pretty good. El had added a palm tree.

Admittedly, it looked like a lump with some green hair poking out of the top, but Will still praised the attempt and she figured that was all that mattered. 

“Okay,” Will said, depositing his paintbrush into the mostly empty green can, “we have one wall left.”

“But our paint’s gone,” El bemoaned. It was a wonder they’d managed to spread it out as far as they did, but she attributed that mostly to the room’s small size and their own learned talent for stretching out necessities.

Will shrugged. “Not all of it. We still have a little left.” Mostly black and a little red. The blue was almost entirely gone.

“Not enough.”

“No, I guess not.”

And didn’t that just ruin the flow?

“Hm,” Will mused. He eyed the paints as if doing so would spark some latent idea he had yet to reach. Sadly, it just made him look a little constipated. El was kind enough not to point this out. “I guess...” he mused after a moment, running an already caked hand around the rim of the tawny can. “I guess we could use our hands.”

El’s face twisted. “Finger painting?” That wouldn’t be enough to cover the wall.

“Kind of.” He grabbed the brush and coated his hand - from fingers to palm - in the yellow liquid. Then, without preamble, he slapped it onto the white plaster, held it there for a second, and pulled away. In its place was a perfect imitation of his hand.

His companion was entranced.

“There!” Will declared. “We can just fill it up like this. You try.” He handed over the brush and El enthusiastically ran it across her own palm. She then slapped it right next to Will’s. It came out perfect.

“More?” She questioned. El didn’t want to let go of the paintbrush.

Will laughed. “Definitely.”

They finished off the blue and green entirely, leaving an array of mostly red and yellow handprints along the wall. Most of the colors ended up on their pajamas, but that was okay as it was quite evident they’d never be able to clean them anyway. The duo danced around each other, each time trying to find a new empty spot to claim with their hands.

Which, of course, ended in disaster.

El, dizzy with lack of sleep and exhilaration, stumbled backward. Her hand - freshly painted with some of the last drops of vermillion - instinctively reached out to keep her balanced and she inevitably ended up pressing her palm into the now dry mural of their castle.

She stopped, stunned. Her blood ran to ice.

“No,” El breathed out. Tears sprang to her eyes and she brought her hands up to her mouth in horror. It left a stain not dissimilar to blood along her cheek.

She’d ruined it. She’d ruined it, she’d ruined it, she’d ruined it!

“El!” It was his arms more than his shout that brought her back, and only now did she realized she’d been hyperventilating. The cans shook.

“I-I-” she stuttered. “I ruined it. I-”

“No!” Will’s grip tightened around her shoulders. “You didn’t ruin it.”

“But-”

“You just signed it.”

What? Her eyes narrowed in confusion. “Signed it?” 

“Of course!” Will nodded emphatically. “All artists have to sign their work when they’re done so that people know who did it.”

“They...do?”

“Yeah. In fact...” He turned around, focus highlighting on the remains of the little blending of purple he’d made for their friends’ costumes. Dipping his hand in the paint, he slapped his next to her’s on the wall, signing it. “There! Perfect.”

“Perfect,” El mimicked. She sniffled back the snot that had gathered during her little episode.

“Well, almost.” To El’s further confusion, Will then went back to the black paint and picked up a tiny brush. Under his handprint, he used the paint to print out one word:

Will

“There,” he declared, turning the brush over to her. “Now it’s your turn.”

“My-?” Her eyes lowered to the floor. A sudden overwhelming flush of shame erupted in her belly. “But...”

Will cocked his head. “El?”

“I-I don’t-” She bit her lip hard enough to turn it white and heard him shift beside her.

There was a brief note of silence and then, “You don’t know how to spell your name, do you?”

Jerkily, she shook her head. To her utter humiliation, she felt the tears begin to gather once more and she brushed a finger under her nose as she sniffled. It left a streak of red behind as if her nose had bled sideways.

“Well, we’re going to have to fix that, then.”

Her head shot up. “What?”

“I said we’re going to have to fix that. Right now.” His face was a rock of determination and he flashed her a shockingly bright smile. “Do you know your ABCs? I mean you were reading pretty well earlier, so...”

“ABCs?” She straightened. El knew words and sounds mostly from observing and mimicking others, but she’d never heard of anything like the ABCs.

“I guess not.” He twirled the black coated brush between his fingers and hummed low in thought. “Okay,” Will stated after a moment. “So the ABCs are the basis for pretty much everything to do with reading and writing. This,” he walked up to one of the trees, “is the letter A. The big one is it in capital form and the small one is called lowercase,” and he painted the two letters along the trunk.

Will went to the next tree. “This is B.” Then the next. “C.” The next. “D.” And so on, until almost every tree had an upper and lower case letter on it. “There’s a song that helps you remember it too, but I don’t think we have much time to go over it all. I can teach you later if you’d like.”

She did. She very much did. The letters were as enchanting on their own as they were together.

“We can go over them all later, but for your name, these are the only ones you need to know.” He pointed to the fifth tree. “This is E. You’ll use it to start your name. This one,” Will indicated to the twelfth tree, “is L. That’s the second letter, and the only other one you need.”

“That spells...Eleven?” She’d always assumed words that took longer to say had longer spellings.

But Will very quickly shook his head. “No. Just El. Eleven isn’t a name.”

“Oh.” She liked how that sounded then.

“Do you want to write it out? Under your hand?”

El’s head bobbed. “Yes.”

“Great!” Will beamed. “So the first letter of your name is always capitalized, and the rest are lowercase. Make sense?”

“I think so.” So, she used the big E and the lower L. 

Hesitantly, she dipped the brush back into the black paint and brought it up to her accidental handprint. With shaky writing, she made a passable E and then a shorter l.  

It looked...kind of clunky.

Despondent, El turned to Will, hoping he could fix it in some way, but the boy was already scrutinizing her work with a heavy intensity that made her palms sweat. What had she done wrong? Was he mad at her?

Her stomach rolled at the very thought.

Please, she begged, please don’t let him be mad.

“Nope,” he stated a second later with a shake of his head. “That won’t work.”

“W-wha-” Oh God, she might throw up. He really was angry.

He took the brush from her limp fingers - El, herself, too scared to fight him - and dipped it back into the can. She expected him to cross out her obviously horrible attempt, and so was flummoxed when instead he drew another lowercase L next to her’s and then another E to spell out Elle.

The girl was shocked. What in the world?

In contrast, Will only tossed her a triumphant glance. “There. That’s better. What do you think?”

What did she think? She didn’t even know.  

Her confusion must have shown because Will’s eyes softened and he took hold of her hand. “El is a nickname, short for Eleven. But Elle is a name. Your name. Do you like it?”

El, or rather Elle, could only nod.

She had a name.

Will, as was his nature, instantly understood. “Good. I’m glad.”

A bubble of euphoria burst from her lips in the form of a laugh, and she found herself smiling so wide it hurt. It was like learning the word “friend” all over again.

“Hey,” Will nudged her. There was a twinkle in his eye Elle was quickly coming to love. “Wanna know what would make this even better?”

“What?”

He tugged her hand. “Come on.”

Turned out, “better” meant leaving the bunker for the main room. The fire had long since gone out, though its warmth remained. Gentle snores and breathing were the only sounds to be heard outside their feet tiptoe-ing along the wood. Through the windows, false dawn was just beginning to brighten the horizon.

“Mike,” Will whispered into the taller boy’s ear. “Mike.”

Mike let out the low groan of someone who did not want to wake up, and Will indicated to Elle. Funnily enough, he didn’t even have to say anything for her to realize what he wanted.

She bent down close to Mike’s ear and said, “Mike. Mike, you need to get up.”

“Hmm,” the boy groaned again. His eyelids shuttered as he drifted into wakefulness. “El?” He slurred. “Wha’swro’g? Di’they’fin’us?”

Elle giggled and was all too aware of the beyond exasperated eye-roll Will shot their way.

“Nothing’s wrong. I want to show you something.”

“Sh’me? Sho’me wha’?” Mike’s eyes cracked open, barely.

“It’s a surprise, so you have to be quiet.”

“Huh?” Mike finally managed to sit up on his elbows, blinking away sleep. “A su’prise?”

“Yeah,” Elle nodded, “but shhh.”

Mike sighed, gaze lingering with a sort of longing at his warm sleeping bag. Unfortunately, this was Elle, and Mike couldn’t bring himself to deny her anything. “Fine.” He unzipped himself from the sack as silently as possible and stood up wobbly. Only once he was on his feet did he notice Will and the confusion on his face grew.

“Will? What’s going - wait.” He eyed them closer. “Is that paint?”

“Shh,” Will held up a blue finger to his lips. “It’s a surprise.”

Well, that didn’t answer anything. The trio spent the next twenty minutes trying to get Lucas, Max, and Dustin up from their slumber, and by the time they were finished Mike was wide awake and sunlight was beginning to trickle into the cabin.

“Alright, come on.” Will lead them back towards the panic room, sharing only a small conspiratorial smirk with Elle.

He opened the door just enough for them all to fit through on their sides as he didn’t want to flood the room with the light from the camper’s lamp. The bunker was almost too small for them all to fit inside, but that didn’t stop their friends from pulling up short almost immediately anyway. Will closed the door. 

“Whoa,” said Dustin, for the first time rubbing his eyes from something other than sleep.

“What the hell...?” Max added. Her mouth had fallen open and her eyes were wide as she tried to come to grips with what she was seeing.

Lucas sputtered. “Did you guys sleep at all?” Of course, the answer was obvious even before they shook their heads. 

Mike was silent. He was too shocked by the strange amalgamation of artistic skill and obvious lack of, to say anything.

“Dude!” Dustin shoved passed the others, unheeding of the paint now staining his bare feet. He jabbed a finger to the castle. “Is that us?”

“Wait, what?” Max questioned immediately. She was instantly beside him, blue eyes focusing on the characters atop the hill. “Holy shit, it is!”

“This is so cool!”

Any aggravation about being woken seemed to be instantly forgotten as their friends moved in to observe their work closer. Mike’s expression was still hanging somewhere between stupefaction and awe, but his fingers trailed along the murals just far enough to feel the coolness of the paint but not enough to smear it.

He edged closer to Lucas, who was marveling at the detail on his character’s armor. “Is that my sword?” The other boy asked, wide-eyed. “Wait - is that Billy?”

Indeed the dragon did have Billy’s trademark hair and the piercings in its ears left little doubt to anyone keen enough to make the connection.

Will hefted a shoulder.

“Oh-ho!” Max laughed triumphantly, baring her teeth like a predator happening upon easy prey. “Oh, I like it.”

As his friends continued to gush over the picture, something warm appeared at Mike’s shoulder, and his senses were instantly hyperaware of maple syrup.

“Mike,” El murmured. She took his hand in her’s, thumb brushing his knuckles. Flecks of paint chipped off and fell to the floor. Mike was instantly enthralled. His felt his face heat with the sudden rush of blood and just knew his skin had to match.

It would have been embarrassing if her soft smile wasn’t such a distraction.

“Do you like it?” She asked, head tilting towards the artwork.

“Y-yeah,” he stumbled. Mike was only vaguely aware of snickers being thrown his way by the others, but couldn’t even bring himself to care. Not when she looked so happy. “They’re incredible.”

El beamed. “Thanks. It was mostly Will, but look!” Her delicate (blue, green, yellow, black, red, white) hand shot towards one of the trees. On it was the letter A. “Will’s been teaching me.”

“He’s been-?” Mike flashed his best friend a stunned glance before understanding hit. “El, that’s great!”

“Mm,” she bobbed her head once, eyes shutting with unrestrained happiness. “And look!” She pointed to another part of the wall where two handprints - one red, the other purple - stood out in stark contrast to the grassy surroundings. Under each one was a name.

Will

Elle

“It’s my name!” Her face was alight with joy, infecting all the others to the point where they themselves were sharing every inch of it with her. True, it didn’t sound any different from El, but it certainly felt different; like sinking into a warm hug.

“Elle,” Lucas found himself saying first. He almost seemed to be testing it. “I like it.”

“Definitely,” Max supported. She tossed an arm around the smaller girl’s shoulder and hugged her. “It fits.”

“Now all you need is a last name and you’re set.” Dustin shot Mike a sly grin that had the other boy’s face burning. “Just gotta find the right one, I guess.”

“Shut. Up.” Mike tried to elbow his friend in the stomach, but the curly-mopped boy danced out of the way with all the finesse of someone who’d done it a million times before. 

“A last name?” Elle questioned. She needed two names?

Lucas rested a hand on her shoulder. “Yeah, like how my last name is Sinclair or Max’s is Mayfield. It tells people what family you’re from.”

“Oh.” She looked down at her bare feet. The only family she’d ever been a part of was one she’d never wanted to be in, but then, Mike had promised-

“H-hey! That’s okay. I mean you don’t-”

“Byers,” Will cut Lucas off. He took hold of her hand. “Your last name can be Byers. I’ve always wanted a sister and,” he mirrored Dustin’s grin, “I don’t think adoption is quite how Mike wants you to take his last name.”

Elle didn’t understand why the rest of their friends erupted into howls and - in the case of Max - a slap to Mike’s back, but she did find it interesting how Mike’s face seemed to invent a new shade of red. It was cute.

“Will, I hate you,” but it was said with such mortification Elle knew he didn’t really mean it.

Judging by the far too pleased expression gracing Will’s features, Elle figured he knew it too.

“Just saying,” he shrugged, “but I did have another reason for waking you guys up beside showing you this before Hopper has the chance to usher us all out of here.”

“Hm?” Even Elle looked questioning as Will reached down and picked up one of the paintbrushes. He held it out for someone to take.

“See, I was thinking, the wall still looks a little unfinished with just mine and Elle’s hands up there, so...” he trailed off.

Max spoke up first. “Wait, you want us to add our hands? Why?”

“Yeah,” Dustin agreed. “I mean you guys painted it, and aren’t you always going on about artists having signatures or something.”

“Well,” Will rubbed the back of his head, “yeah, but I think it would look better if you guys were up there, too.”

His friends exchanged glances before, as one, they all blossomed into excitement.

“I call green!”

“There’s no green left, idiot!”

“Why were there this many colors in storage anyway?”

“How about red?”

“Oh no - orange.”

Mike ended up taking the last of the red, despite the fact that Max had tried to get her claws into it first. She ended up with what remained of the orange, sending Dustin and Lucas into a small fight on who got to match her color. Eventually, Dustin won by trickery and Lucas, to his consternation, was left with the purple.

A minute later, four more handprints joined the wall. If Mike’s was a little closer to Elle’s than was necessary no one commented, though they did send him some jokingly suggestive and teasing winks afterward.

“And now for the final touch,” Will said. He offered the black paintbrush to Mike. “You have to sign it.”

Later, when everyone else finally woke up and Hopper had finished his spiel on the importance of sleep and the dangers of paint fumes (“I don’t give a crap even if the air vent was a goddam window!”), everyone would quickly gather together to collect their things and hightail it out of the cabin for somewhere more secure. They had to get out before they were discovered and had no time to marvel at art.

It didn’t matter. It wasn’t there to be admired anyway.

When the left, they left no evidence they were ever there. No evidence with perhaps the exception of a hidden room, in a hidden cabin. And later, after the dust had settled, the blood had dried, and new nightmares made themselves at home in their minds, the children would come back and trace the names written under smaller hands.

Will

Elle

Mike

Lucas

Max

Dustin

And, despite everything, it would even make them smile. 

Hope you all enjoyed! This is for @dadhopper who reverse psychology-ed me into writing fluff and @mouthbreathing-eggos of whom I had the pleasure of firs sharing this idea with:) Thank you!

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #will byers #eleven #hints of mileven #will and eleven bonding #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #Max (stranger things) #mike wheeler #my attempt at fluff tho i'm not sure how much i succeeded #also this is way longer than i intended it to be #hope you enjoyed