#character: carol perkins

[stbb-summaries]

Story # 39

Title: The Way Things Are Main Pairing(s): Steve Harrington/Carol Perkins, Eddie Munson/Carol Perkins, Robin Buckley/Carol Perkins, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington&Robin Buckley Rating: E (Explicit, Includes explicit scenes) Genre: Fluff, Angst Word Count: 6,200 Completeness: 3 Warnings: Underaged Drinking, Casual Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Self Destructive Behavior, Suicidal Ideation Summary:

Steve and Eddie aren't speaking. Robin is going away to college soon. They're all very good at dealing with the way their lives are spiraling away from each other. They're all just fine. Carol Perkins is fine, too. She's fresh out of a relationship that was dead for years, and she's stuck in this nowhere town full of people she hates, but she's fine. She just needs a little fun. So when the opportunity to let loose presents itself in the form of Steve Harrington's kicked puppy eyes, she decides fuck it. She does it again later that night, when she winds up in a bathroom alone with the town freak. And again in someone else's bedroom with the girl she always heard rumors about. Carol finds something she likes in each of them, and keeps little pieces for herself. She tells herself that she hasn't given them anything in return, even as she can feel the chunks they walk away with.

Art forms preferred: Traditional/Digital drawing, Graphics package (icons, section breaks, etc.), Podfic, Photo/gif set Highest rating art preferred: M (Mature, Shows adult themes, but not explicitly)

[morganbritton132]

Sometimes I think about what season 4 would’ve been like if instead of introducing Jason and Chrissy, they used two already established characters for those roles. Like Tommy and Carol, for example.

You don’t even have to change much with Eddie or the basketball team, just have Carol be the one buying drugs and have Tommy be the assistant coach on the basketball team or something.

It’d add a layer to Lucas’ story because then he’s not just struggling with peer pressure but also with an authority figure that we’ve already seen be aggressive. I think it adds more weight to Steve helping to clear Eddie’s name because Carol was his friend.

I also think there’s something very interesting about a town mob hunting down and demonizing Eddie, a character whose biggest sin was being different, in the honor of a canonical bully.

[steviesbicrisis]

The Choice is Yours, Steve Harrington

When Steve Harrington starts getting threatening texts from an unknown number, he tries to take matters into his own hands. Little does he know that every choice he makes could have major consequences. His choices matter, and so do yours. So, what’s it gonna be? (An interactive modern day AU! by @steviesbicrisis and @hairstevington)

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Ugh. Hargrove.

The guy was just - he really sucked, and Steve wished he was fucking gone. Now he was threatening Henderson? No way. Steve was going to settle this once and for all. Billy wasn’t going to mess with him anymore, he’d make sure of it.

Of course, Dustin was at the stupid concert. Steve really wanted to avoid it, but obviously he would do anything to protect his friends. He headed off to the Fairgrounds, practicing his speech to Billy the whole drive.

Listen to me, asshole. You’re gonna stay away from me and you’re definitely gonna stay away from my friends, or else. Got it?

By the time Steve got to the concert, it was winding down. People were pouring into the parking lot and speeding away in their cars. Steve knew that the kids planned on sticking around afterwards in hopes of meeting the band, so he figured they’d still be there.

It was kind of scary, being there alone at night. Robin was around somewhere, though, so that gave him some peace. He could probably just say her name three times and she’d appear beside him.

He continued looking for his friends as the place emptied out, feeling chills down his spine with every passing moment.

And then, he heard Billy’s voice. He sounded angry, as always. Steve followed the voice, puffing his chest out and trying to make himself look as intimidating as possible.

“Hargrove,” he said once he rounded the corner. Billy was alone, and he smiled the moment he realized it was Steve approaching him.

“Harrington!” he cheered wickedly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Steve rolled his eyes.

“You’re gonna leave us alone,” Steve demanded. “Me, Dustin, my other friends, all of us.” Billy smiled, fearlessly closing the gap between him and Steve until their faces were inches apart.

“Or what?” Billy teased between gritted teeth. “What are ya gonna do to me, Steve? You think you could take me down?”

Steve swallowed. Something about Billy always brought out his worst, most violent urges. Truthfully, Steve knew he wouldn’t win in a fight with Hargrove, and yet - he threw the first punch.

Steve’s fist clocked into Billy’s jaw. He laughed in response, then tried to hit back, but Steve dodged it. He was doing well at first - keeping up, at least - and then Billy got the upper hand.

Steve fell to the floor. Billy got on top of him. There was punch after punch after punch, and then everything went black.

When Steve came to, his ears were ringing and his head felt like it was going to explode. He’d failed. He’d come here to protect Dustin, and now who knew where he was or if he was safe? Steve sat up, and that’s when he saw that he still wasn’t alone.

Billy was on the floor across from him, sitting up with his back to the wall. He wasn’t moving. Steve couldn’t see much in the dim light, so he used his phone to get a better look.

Oh.

Oh, shit. There was blood everywhere, all stemming from stab wounds to the stomach and cuts on his arms.

Billy was dead.

Steve jumped backwards, falling over and skittering across the floor to get as much distance from the body as possible. This wasn’t happening. No, this wasn’t - who could have done this?

His shaky hand went back to his phone, which he’d dropped on the floor upon his discovery. He picked it up to call the police, because that’s what he knew he was supposed to do next. Even in his shock, he knew that’s what he had to do.

He dialed 9-1-1, and then his phone buzzed.

Same poll on Google Docs

The Choice is Yours, Steve Harrington | Ao3 Next

How to follow the story

[fanficsfromyesteryear]

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘❜𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐄

⟶ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒 ////////////////////////////////////

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prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 synopsis: there’s a new monster terrorizing the small town of hawkins, indiana, and it’s not one from an alternate dimension. with halloween quickly approaching and everyone’s nerves already on edge, the last thing anybody wants is a prankster serial killer running amuck, but alas, hawkins’s residents aren’t exactly known for getting what they want, are they? warnings: major(??) character death, mentions of animal death, violence, language tag list: @maackiimoo​

         “What are you looking at, creep?” Carol snapped, gaze trained on the hunched figure across the hall.

         Jonathan’s gaze slid from Nancy, just beyond Carol, to the accusatory redhead with furrowed brows. He opened his mouth to stutter out an excuse, but Eddie stopped him.

         “Don’t listen to her,” he muttered, barely paying Carol any mind as he scribbled in an open notebook.

         With a nod, Jonathan pulled another textbook from his locker and shoved it into his bag before focusing on Eddie again. “What’re you working on?” he asked, eager to change the subject.

         “Campaign stuff,” Eddie answered with a shrug, but as Jonathan leaned over for a peek, he angled the paper away. “Top secret campaign stuff.”

         Carol scoffed. “You saw what happened to Billy,” she told Tommy H., who flanked her. “No way he killed himself. Everyone was at that party, too, so it could’ve been anybody, but my money’s on one of them.” Her gaze was still trained on where Eddie and Jonathan were now turning to leave, and Carol moved as if to follow them, but Tommy grabbed her arm.

         “You think they’re cold-blooded killers, and you wanna go start something with them?”

         “Well—”

         “Carol!”

         Y/N and Tina pushed their way past Tommy, Y/N throwing her arm around Carol’s shoulders as they neared. “Meeting in the bathroom,” she announced, already beginning to urge the redhead toward the ladies’ restroom.

         Tommy H. started to trail after them, but Tina interjected, palm to his chest as she nudged him back. “Girls only,” she clarified, grinning mockingly before joining the others as they pushed through the bathroom door.

         Carol stood at the mirror, rifling through her bag on the sink for her Chapstick, while Y/N checked beneath the row of stalls in search of any indication that they weren’t alone. At last, she announced, “It’s clear,” to which Tina smiled and produced a cigarette from her pocket, bringing it up to her lips. Y/N passed her a lighter and entered the nearest cubicle, taking up post against one wall and leaving space for Tina to follow suit.

         “You should really be more careful who your friends are,” Carol said, at last breaking the silence that had settled over them, save for the sound of Tina exhaling a cloud of smoke before giving the cigarette to Y/N.

         It had been the elephant in the room for weeks now, that Y/N had taken a liking to Eddie Munson. Carol and Tina didn’t think he was good enough, but they’d bitten their tongues for her sake—it wasn’t their business what Y/N did when they weren’t around to stop her, but Billy’s death had struck fear and an odd sense of determination into Carol, and the mysterious phone call she’d received was the kick to the pants she needed to meddle in what she considered “problems” that weren’t even hers to solve.

         “What’s that supposed to mean?” Y/N asked, peering around the door at Carol’s reflection, the warning glare that Tina sent the redhead going unnoticed. “I’m friends with you—is there something I need to know?”

         “I’m serious, Y/N! You know, I’m surprised you can stand to be around Eddie after what he did to Billy.”

         “Woah! Back up.” Y/N shoved the smoking stick into Tina’s grasp. “Eddie didn’t kill anyone. I was with him, like, all night. Just because someone has different interests than you, doesn’t make them a murderer or give you the right to call them one.”

         “I don’t know,” Carol pressed. “He likes that weird game they’re always talking about in the news. He could be a Satan-worshipper, for all we know—he sure looks like one.”

         Y/N scoffed. “Nancy’s Wheeler’s little brother plays D&D. That doesn’t prove anything.”

         “He’s probably a freakshow, too, then.” Carol heaved a sigh, fingers working to fluff her hair. “Back me up, Tina.”

         Tina had fallen silent for the duration of the exchange and wasn’t looking to get involved now. While she’d agreed with Carol’s points a couple of days ago when they’d first talked about it after Eddie had dropped by her house to pick Y/N up, Carol had no tact. It was one thing to be concerned for a friend but another to point blame and confidently accuse someone of stabbing another classmate to death, and personal biases aside, Tina couldn’t bring herself to do such a thing. As Tina waited for a half-assed excuse for an exit to the conversation—at the very least, a change in topic—to come to mind, she flicked the cigarette into the toilet, foot lifting to press the handle. The water swirling in the bowl reflected her turbulent thoughts, but at Carol’s insistent, “Well?” she started, “I—”

         The door of the stall next to theirs flung open, effectively cutting Tina off before her embarrassment could, and Y/N reached out, grabbing the closure to their own compartment and yanking it closed in the case a teacher had entered their midst.

         “What the hell are you supposed to be?” Carol asked. “You’re a little late—Halloween was last week.”

          Y/N and Tina exchanged a quizzical look, but before they could voice their curiosity, Carol said, “Hey! What are you doing? Get away—” Her angry words fizzled out into a pained screech, though the noise was muffled—by what, the girls didn’t know, and they didn’t dare ask. Instead, they waited with bated breath, hands clasped over their mouths and panic clawing at their throats like a wild beast desperate to break out of its cage as they listened to their companion struggle against her assailant. At last, Carol’s body slumped to the floor with a soft thud, and Y/N and Tina expected to be next, both of them shifting their weight to lean on the door in a poor attempt to keep it bolted shut, but the threat never came.

         Only silence.

         “Are they gone?” Tina whispered, her voice shallow and broken.

         Y/N nodded. “I think so.”

         Timidly, Y/N stepped out of hiding to find that they were alone. Carol laid on the tile, a red puddle oozing out from beneath her limp form. Behind Y/N, Tina’s scream alerted her added presence, but Y/N was hardly able to muster a reaction—all she could do was stare. This wasn’t her first dead body, and at the rate things were going, it probably wouldn’t be her last.

         As Tina ran out into the hallway, calling for help, Y/N ambled along numbly in her wake. Several people rushed past, knocking into her, and she nearly fell if not for the strong hand that reached out to steady her.

��        “You okay?” Eddie asked, dark eyes blown wide with concern.

         Y/N shook her head. “Carol—somebody killed her.”

         Eddie’s brow furrowed, and his mouth fell open to speak, but down the hall, Chrissy called Y/N’s name, her words accentuated by frantic footsteps and a bouncing, blonde ponytail. Once she was within reach, Chrissy clutched onto Y/N’s arm, pink fingernails digging into the thick fabric of her sweater’s sleeve. “Let’s get out of here,” Chrissy urged. “This place is giving me the creeps.” Then, sensing she’d interrupted something, she turned to Eddie. “Do you need a ride? I’m sure Jason won’t mind.”

         Jason scoffed as he walked by, clutching Chrissy’s shoulder and tugging her away. “He doesn’t need a ride,” he countered. “I’m sure the Freak can take care of himself.” Jason glanced back to his girlfriend’s prior companion with an impatience in his cold gaze. “Y/N, are you coming?”

         Y/N hesitated, gaze darting between Eddie and the couple. Finally, she said, “I’m sorry. I’ll call you later, okay?” and jogged to catch up with the pair of jocks.

                                           ────── 〔 ☠ 〕─────

         The shrill tone of the telephone went unnoticed by most in the room, save for the woman sat at her desk, flipping mindlessly through a magazine. At the first ring, she exhaled, pushed the book aside, and slid her small notepad over into its place, pen already poised in her grip to jot down a message by the time she answered, “Hawkins, P.D.”

         Florence rose to her feet, shuffling around the corner of the table in front of her, and diligently strode down the dimly lit hallway. She paused at the shut door of the Sheriff’s office, knocking once out of forced politeness, then entered without an invitation.

         Jim Hopper’s muddy boots were propped precariously on the corner of his messy desk, chair leaned back as he licked off the donut glaze that had crusted onto the fingertips of his right hand, his left prying open the blinds for a clearer view of the tree line behind the station. He started at the woman’s sudden arrival but gained composure quickly with a dissatisfied grunt. “What is it, Flo?”

         “Carol Perkins is dead.”

         “Shit,” Hopper muttered, righting his seat. He threw back the rest of this morning’s coffee—cold from lack of attention—and stood, grabbing his coat and hat. “Where is she?”

         “They found her over at the school.”

         Hopper burst out of his office with Florence in tow as she returned to her spot in the office. The man threw on his coat as he strode toward the door, drawing the attention of some of the others as they took in his hurried state.

         “Where ya goin’, Chief?” Powell asked, hand slowly creeping toward his hat as an unspoken question of whether or not he should be accompanying Hopper.

         “The high school,” Jim answered. “A student died.”

         “Jesus,” muttered Officer Callahan. “Another suicide?”

         Hopper paused his movements, fingers stalled on the doorknob. “I’m not so sure it is.”

                                          ────── 〔 ☠ 〕─────

         “I let it happen.”

         The muted strumming of guitar strings halted as Eddie shifted on the floor to get a better view of Y/N. “What?”

         “Carol,” Y/N explained. “I was there. I heard her getting attacked, and I didn’t do anything to stop it.”

         Eddie tilted his head, studying her. Y/N was perched at the edge of his bed, her fingers fiddling anxiously with a loose thread at the hem of her sweater. If she didn’t stop, she’d unravel it, but she didn’t appear to care. A deep furrow had taken up residence between her brows and didn’t show any signs of budging, the corners of her mouth turned downward to match. She stared at the space beside Eddie, one of the only bare sections of his wall, as if afraid to meet his eyes, that the information she’d just revealed to him would somehow negatively alter how he viewed her.

         Setting aside his instrument, Eddie hesitantly scooted over until he was sitting crisscross on the carpet in front of Y/N. “It’s not your fault,” he began. “You know, I can’t think of anyone outside of a comic book that would’ve done anything other than what you had. We’re only human, and there’s nothing wrong with being scared.”

         “That’s all I am, though,” Y/N answered, a tearful crack in her words. “Every day now, I’m scared, and I don’t even know what I’m scared of.” She inhaled sharply. “Maybe Carol was right. We shouldn’t be friends.”

         No matter how much Eddie had braced himself to hear Y/N utter that sentence, it hadn’t done anything to soften the blow. He’d allowed himself to become too comfortable, something he’d always been wary of when it came to letting new people into his life, and she’d stolen his breath with a punch to the stomach when he wasn’t looking. No. Eddie had been punched in the stomach before, and this felt worse.

         “Oh,” he said. “Okay.”

         Y/N gave a helpless shake of her head, strands of hair catching in the dampness that now coated her reddening cheeks as her sadness overcame her. “I think I’m cursed. Everyone close to me keeps dying, and I can’t—I don’t want you to be next.”

         Eddie’s lips twitched. Oh. “Don’t worry about me,” he assured, risking a timid smile. “I’m tough. I mean, you heard Carver today—I can take care of myself.”

         “You shouldn’t have to.”

         “Well, sweetheart,” Eddie said, “that’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He reached up, hand finding purchase on the side of Y/N’s face. His thumb brushed away water droplets as they trailed along her skin, urging her to meet his eyes. “If you’ll let me.”

         “I can’t ask you to do that.”

         “I know.”

         He was going to anyway.

         As the sun sank toward the horizon, the shadows cast through Eddie’s thin curtain grew longer, reaching toward the opposite wall of his room and threatening to creep down the short hallway toward the kitchen. The seemingly endless lull in conversation that had settled over the duo was ended only when Eddie pointed out that it was getting dark. “C’mon, I’ll take you home,” he said.

                                         ────── 〔 ☠ 〕─────

         The front door had barely slammed into place when the phone started ringing, its demanding calls bouncing off the walls of the dark, empty house.

         “Jesus Christ,” came an irritated mutter.

         Steve had been with Dustin Henderson for hours of his life that he’d never get back, spent in a vain search for the boy’s supposed cat-eating lizard. He was tired—the teen wanted nothing more than to take a shower, scrub the dirt from his hair and wipe the grime from his face, and crawl into his inviting albeit cold bed.

         “Hello?” Steve asked, pressing the receiver to his cheek.

         “Remember me?”

         “Look, buddy, I don’t have time for your bullshit tonight.” Steve moved the speaker away from his ear, phone angled back toward its cradle, but the voice crackling from the other end was still audible, and what it said stopped him in his tracks.

         “I’ll take that as a yes. It’s a good thing, too, because I haven’t forgotten you. That future deadbeat and the girl were just bumps in the road, but your time will be here soon enough. Better keep that bat handy, Harrington—never know when you might need it. Not that it’ll do you any good, of course. You won’t see me coming, just like poor Barbara in that swimming pool of yours. At least you’ll deserve it.”

[hagansvsp]

TOMMY HAGAN + CIGARETTES.

stranger things season one , 2016.

1x06 , 1x02.

[ickypuppi3]

i miss them

[wisdomssdaughterr]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER THREE → COFFEE AND CONTEMPLATION

summary: steve harrington x oc

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown. 

word count. 4.4k

warnings: cannon typical violence, child-abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. slight cannon divergence. 

previous chapter ← → next chapter

The next morning, Sunshine awoke with a start. A gasp fell from her lips as she bolted upright in unusual surroundings.

Instead of the harsh fluorescent lights she had grown accustomed to, she was bathed in the warm glow of the rising sunlight. It poured in through the large windows that surrounded the living room. And instead of the itch of the single, thin sheet she slept with, there were two soft and warm blankets wrapped around her.

For the first time that Sunshine could recall, she woke up in a home, a real home that, while not hers, felt strangely comforting. And that was such an unfamiliar feeling to her. Of course, there was still an ever-present knot of anxiety that was tightly balled inside her chest, but she actually slept through the night, and she couldn’t remember the last time she had done that.

Rising from the couch, she rubbed her eyes but winced in pain as her fingers touched the bruises that were an even darker shade of blue, red, and purple. It was a nasty side effect of the use of her abilities. It caused bruises to splitter around her nose, raging headaches, and if she over-exerted herself pain flared deep in her bones.

A noise came from the kitchen just on the other side of the wall and Sunshine followed the sound until she laid her eyes on the boy she met last night, who had his back to her.

She sucked in a breath and mustered up enough courage to venture further into the kitchen. The floorboards creaked under her feet, and it caused the boy to turn around, looking startled.

Once he realized it was just her, his lips curled upward in an unsure, forced smile. “Morning,” he said. The boy, Steve, stared at her for a moment longer, and Sunshine shrunk back slightly, uncomfortable and unsure of what she was supposed to do next.

Steve cleared his throat and looked away, grabbing a cup from off the counter. “Want some coffee?”

Sunshine didn’t know what he was talking about, but something bitter yet pleasant filled her nose and she nodded slowly. He slid a second mug across the kitchen island, and she picked it up, studying it for a moment. The liquid inside was dark and steaming as she lifted it to her lips. As soon as it hit her tongue, she recoiled at the taste and her face twisted up.

The boy across the counter looked slightly amused as he said, “Not a black coffee drinker, huh?” She shook her head in response and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Steve walked across the kitchen to the fridge and grabbed a carton of milk before he moved to another counter and picked up a small canister with the word sugar written across it.

“Yeah,” he continued. “Me neither.”

Sunshine watched him intently as he poured the milk and sugar into his mug and stirred it around. The click of the spoon hitting the ceramic sides of the mug filled the air, which was also different than the noises she often heard in the mornings. There were no muffled voices from outside a locked door, beeping monitors, or the doctors' droning voices in her ears. It was just a careful click and the steady breeze from outside.

He handed the milk and sugar over to her and she copied his actions before she tried another sip. That time, the drink went down smoothly and tasted better.

They sat in silence for a little longer, drinking their coffee. Sunshine still eyed him and knew that he was thinking deeply about something. There was a crease across his forehead and his grip on the mug was tight. She assumed he was trying to think of a way to get her out of his house, and she knew she had long overstayed her welcome.

“Thank you,” Sunshine found herself rasping out. Her voice was still hoarse, but she felt compelled to say something. Thank you was a thing people said when someone else did something nice for them. It was polite. Yet, a simple sorry didn’t seem like enough. He could have kicked her out the second she stepped foot inside his house in her tattered hospital gown and bloodied nose. But he didn’t. He gave her clothes and a blanket, and that had been more kindness than anyone had shown her in a long time. Because of him, she didn’t brave the woods for a whole night, and because of that, she was still alive and not back inside the walls of the Lab.

A thank you was all she had.

“Don’t mention it,” Steve said, causally. “It’s not a big deal.”

But it was, and they both knew that.

“I don’t know what happened last night. But, you know, it’s not too late to go to the cops or something. They could help you, probably. I mean that is their job, so…” he trailed off and Sunshine felt her heartbeat quicken at the thought of going to anyone in that town. Yet, Steve was persistent. “I can drop you off at the station on my way to school.”

“No,” she said quickly. “No. I-I can’t.” The second anyone from the Lab caught a whiff of her or Eleven, they’d be on them within minutes. Anyone of authority posed a risk that she wasn’t willing to take. She needed to move about the town as quickly and quietly as she could while she searched for her sister. Then, they’d run as far away as they could.

Steve’s eyes narrowed inquisitively. “Why?”

“It’s not safe.” Not for her, her sister, and not for him.

“But that’s-”

Sunshine cut him off swiftly, finishing her coffee and stepping back from the counter. “I have to go.” Fear rose steadily inside her chest; she needed to find Eleven and they needed to leave.

But he had more questions. “Go where?”

She hesitated, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she weighed exactly how much was safe to tell him. She settled with, “Need to find someone.” Steve blinked as an even more confused look crossed his face, silently asking her to elaborate.

Sunshine wasn’t sure what compelled her to tell him even a crumb of the truth, but he had been kind to her, and there was something trustworthy that sat just behind his eyes. Or maybe it wasn’t trust, exactly, but she wasn’t afraid of him like she had been of the men and women inside the Lab.

“M-My sister.”

“Your sister?” he repeated, eyes wide. “Is she in trouble too?” She nodded.

Eleven was in just as much if not more trouble than Sunshine was in. The young girl who she had promised to protect was alone out there, left to her own devices.

It wasn’t that she doubted her sister or thought that she couldn’t fend for herself. That was a key to surviving inside the Lab, and Eleven had always been more of a fighter than Sunshine. But she was just a child; she shouldn’t have had to take care of herself.

“Right, uh, o-okay…” he trailed off and ran a hand through his light brown hair she noticed. “Well, what happens after you find your sister?”

There was no real plan. Their escape had been on a whim; a single lucky chance that they had no choice but to take. Sunshine had no clue how the world operated, but she knew they needed to find somewhere away from town and lie low enough that they disappeared from the doctors’ radar completely.

“We run away from here.”

“Here, as in where the bad people you talked about last night are?”

“Yes.”

He must’ve realized she wasn’t going to give him any more answers to the questions he had. His eyes stared into his forgotten coffee mug on the counter for a moment, before he sighed and said, “Just, hang on for a sec, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Steve left the kitchen and Sunshine remained put. Her finger traced the tattoo hidden under the sleeve of her borrowed sweatshirt as she gazed out the window that faced the woods. They looked just as daunting in the daylight, and the sight of them brought back vivid memories of the events that had just transpired the night before. Alarms still rang in her ears and flashes of the strange creature stained her vision, as did the bodies of the soldiers she left in the yard of the Lab.

She hurt them in an act of desperation, like a caged animal who finally was let out. A part of it was revenge, they all were horrible men, but that didn’t mean she felt no guilt over it.

They all worked under the thumb of the doctors and scientists, following orders with force. Sunshine didn’t know if they really deserved to die; she didn’t know if anyone ever deserved to die, but she knew that the countless children that had once been inside the Lab deserved to live more than the bad people inside did. It was an eye for an eye, a life for a life.

“Here.” Steve’s voice startled her out of her thoughts. She turned around and found him standing in front of her with outstretched hands full of things. “These are my mom’s old clothes. And there’s some money for bus tickets too.”

A small frown tugged on her lips before she asked, “What?”

Sunshine didn’t understand why a stranger would offer her another set of clothes and money on top of letting her stay the night inside his home. It was nice, but it was too nice, and she felt a flood of anxiety rise within her.

No one ever did anything nice without expecting something in return. There was always a motive behind kindness, and it was seldom good.

When Dr. Brenner would give her a new stuffed animal or a fresh pack of crayons, it was his way of trapping her into owing something in return. It meant she couldn’t fight back when it came to suffering through more tests or hurting someone to get answers out of them. Kindness came with a price, and she had learned that at a very young age.

“Well, you don’t exactly look inconspicuous in clothes twice your size. If you’re running from someone, you probably want to, you know, blend in. And when you came here, you were just in that hospital gown. I assumed you didn’t have any cash on you. It’s just twenty bucks, but it’ll buy two bus tickets and whatever else you need to leave Hawkins, I guess.”

Sunshine stared at the items still in his hands, not meeting his eyes. “Why are you doing this?”

She didn’t mean for her question to come off with a sharp edge, but she couldn’t shake the bad feeling pulled tight in her gut. She didn’t have anything to give him.

However, Steve looked just as confused as she did. “I don’t know,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t know how else to help.”

That wasn’t the answer she expected.

“Here,” he repeated, seeming to sense her hesitation. He practically shoved the clothes and cash into her hands before she could refuse. Once they were in her grasp, she waited for the second shoe to drop like it always did with Dr. Brenner. He would wait until the new toy was in her hands before he told her what he needed her to do. That way, she’d have to agree. But much to her surprise, Steve said nothing. He simply watched her with a careful and questioning gaze.

Rolling her lips into her mouth, Sunshine offered him a short nod before she headed for the bathroom to change.

Unease still ached in her bones as she slipped on the pair of blue jeans, which were a little worn and faded, and flared out at the bottom. She pulled on the dark blue knitted sweater and a pair of boots that were a little big. He had given her a jacket too, which was warm, and fell down to her knees.

Once she was finished, Sunshine took another look at herself in the mirror, and hardly recognized her reflection. She almost passed for a real person. Aside from the choppiness of her long-outgrown buzz cut, the bruises that adorned her skin, and the tattoo on her wrist, she almost looked like what she assumed a normal teenage girl did. But she knew that there was only so much she could cover up.

With a sigh, she left the bathroom and readied to venture outside, a place that was as unknown to her as the lands in the stories she used to read. But she had to find Eleven. And no matter how much the unknown scared her, it had to be better than what she knew.

She didn’t know Hawkins was like a plague that would soon infect everything that stepped foot on its soil with a terrible cure, holding them all hostage.

No, Sunshine didn’t know anything about the town she technically had lived in since she could remember.

She bid the strangely nice boy goodbye and thanked him before she headed right back into the woods in search of her sister.

→←

Steve didn’t listen to a word his teacher uttered during his last class of the day. The eternity of his mind was occupied by the strange girl named Sunshine he met the night before.

Everything that had transpired didn’t feel real, and a part of him wondered if it had happened at all, or if he’d dreamt up the whole thing.

The oddness of it all left him unsettled, and that feeling carried with him during the entire school day. He wondered if he made the right decision by not calling the police. He supposed it didn’t really matter anymore; she was gone. The one thing Steve did need to focus on was the party he planned to host that night, which was really just an excuse to spend time with the sophomore girl he’d been talking to all semester: Nancy Wheeler.

Yet, no matter how many times he tried to steer his mind in that direction, there was an annoying tug from that little voice in the back of his head that told him that something was very wrong with the whole Sunshine situation. There was more he wanted to know, more that he should have asked.

Between the blood and her behavior, she obviously had been in a lot more trouble than Steve wanted to believe. He just hoped that she found her sister and skipped town, solving her problems without further incident.

He didn’t know why he even cared, but he couldn’t shake it. He knew he was missing something, but he really didn’t want to think too far into what it was. If that girl had been in real trouble, the kind that was unknown to Steve and his boring little town, it was smart not to go anywhere near it. He didn’t need trouble; Hawkins didn’t need trouble.

Tapping his pencil against the desk, he stared out the lone window in the classroom. It overlooked the backyard of Hawkins High. He watched the dying leaves fall to the ground from branches that swayed in the wind, and he tried to ignore the stuffy feeling that settled in the air.

What Steve really wanted was for fall to draw to a close and leave behind the still insanity the season always brought. He wanted the holidays to roll around. Even with the absence of his parents, who always got a lot busier around that time of year, he still enjoyed the winter to an extent; not as much as he liked summer, but it came in second place. He liked winter break as an excuse to do nothing but party with his friends.

It was only a couple weeks away, and then Steve would still be in that same seat in the back of the class, looking out the window as snow covered up the dead leaves, and everything would be how it always has been.

The last hour of the school day finished, and Steve found himself strolling downtown Hawkins with his two friends, Tommy H. and his girlfriend Carol. He held bags under his arms of supplies for the small party he was throwing that night and listened to the happy couple converse.

“Then, that bitch poured paint all over my stupid project just because I had copied her. And you know what, I wouldn’t even have been that pissed if that project wasn’t the only thing going to save my failing grade,” Carol Perkins complained. Her voice was loud, earning her dirty looks from the residents they passed.

“Wait,” Steve said. “Who poured paint on your project?”

Carol huffed; her annoyance was so thick Steve was surprised he couldn’t physically see it in the air. “I don’t know her name. She’s just some fucking loser in my art class. A sophomore probably. It’s the girl with the short hair who always wears those stupid roller skates to school.”

“Oh, yeah, I know who you’re talking about,” Tommy grinned. “That’s that Buckley chick. The one in band.” Something in the tone of his voice angered Carol and she smacked his arm. “Ow! What? I’m allowed to look, just not touch.”

“You’re a pig.”

Tommy slung an arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders and pressed a sloppy kiss to the side of her head. “And you’re failing art class, babe.” The redhead rolled her eyes. “We all can’t be as perfect as our little Stevie.”

How Tommy and Caroled stayed together in a somewhat faithful and functional relationship was beyond Steve. They were necessarily “good” people, but neither was he. They were just like every other kid in town with dysfunctional families that pretended like they were fine.

It had always been the three of them since elementary school, and Steve wasn’t in the business of making new friends. All of the kids at school were nothing more than miniature versions of their unhappy parents, and he was no different. He was set to follow in his father’s footsteps, and that would give him the rest of his life to rub elbows with new people. For the time being, he was content with Tommy H. and Carol. What he did want, however, was a girlfriend.

Steve had his sights set on Nancy Wheeler since he scored a study hall with her at the start of the year. It took a couple of months of flirting and trying to coax the rather introverted girl out of her small bubble of friends - all of whom were total duds - and convince her to give him a chance. He really didn’t want to screw up.

“Right. ‘Cause King Steve is just so perfect,” Carol muttered sarcastically.

Steve knocked her shoulder with his and smirked. “Hey, at least I passed art class.”

Tommy howled out in laughter as the trio continued down the road to where Steve had left his car parked at the local convenience store.

Just as he spotted his car, a loud voice cut through the air, and it caused them all to stop to see what the commotion was about.

Someone from inside the store, the manager Steve assumed, practically dragged another person outside by their arm and into the parking lot.

“You no good kids. Did you really think you could come in here and steal from me? I should call the cops!” the man shouted as he pulled on the person’s wrist harshly.

For a moment, Steve thought of ignoring the scene and heading back home, but as soon as the person the man had dragged outside ripped their arm from his grasp and turned around, Steve got a clear view of their face and recognized them instantly; it was her.

He didn’t stop to think through his next move, but rather acted on a quick impulse. He shoved the bags he was carrying into Tommy’s arms. His friend sputtered out, “What the Hell, dude?” but Steve ignored him as he walked straight toward Sunshine and the angry man.

Clearing his throat as he approached, he gained both of their attention. “There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said.

Steve didn’t consider him a brilliant liar, but he had been in trouble enough times in his life to know how to get himself and others out of trouble. He was good with people, a trait he picked up from his father. With a charming smile, he pretended that Sunshine was not just some girl he met less than twenty-four hours ago and hoped that she played along.

A part of him felt like he was digging himself deeper into a hole, but if she was still in Hawkins, that couldn’t have been a good thing. And worse than that, she looked like she was alone.

Her eyes widened when they landed on Steve, and she stumbled backward away from the store manager. The man huffed in anger and his face beat red. With a heavy glare, he stared down the two teens. “I want all of you delinquents out of here right now! Or I will call the police.”

“Yes, Sir,” Steve flashed his teeth when he smiled and grabbed the sleeve of Sunshine’s coat, pulling her away from whatever trouble she seemed to have caused.

Just as they started walking away, Tommy and Carol rushed over to them.

“Who’s this?” Carol asked, looking Sunshine up and down with narrow eyes before she faked a smile. “She’s cute.”

Sunshine said nothing, but she did take one step closer to Steve and away from his friends. That left Steve to come up with some kind of lie that was a lot less insane than the truth of how he met the girl at his side.

“This is Su…uh, S-Stella,” he said.

Sunshine wasn’t exactly a normal name, certainly not in Hawkins. And the last thing they needed was Tommy and Carol asking questions that Steve didn’t have the answer to and that Sunshine wasn’t going to answer period.

Stella was still a little out there for the small town where everyone was named after their great-grandmother or someone ancient. But it worked.

“She’s a family friend,” Steve continued to lie, fleshing out a story inside his head quickly. “Who’s staying with me for a couple of days. I totally forgot to tell you guys.”

He could tell that his friends were silently questioning him, but they didn’t really care enough to push any further into who Sunshine was.

Tommy nodded and said, “Cool.”

Carol, on the other hand, kept her eyes on Sunshine and asked, “She comin’ to your party tonight?”

It was at that moment that Steve fully realized what he was doing. Again, he didn’t know what kind of trouble she was in, and he didn’t want to find himself in any trouble because he was with her. But one night didn’t lead to much trouble aside from the initial shock of meeting her. One more night couldn’t hurt.

He didn’t know why, he just felt compelled to help her. And when he shot a glance in her direction, that feeling only intensified. The bruises on her face looked worse and she still looked terrified of something Steve didn’t know. He’d feel guilty if he walked away, and he had already lied to Tommy and Carol about her staying with him.

It would be fine, Steve told himself. She was harmless enough, he hoped.

“Yeah,” he said as he fished for his car keys inside his pocket. Once he got them, he tossed them to Carol. “Can you guys put that stuff in the car? We’ll be there in a minute.”

The couple nodded and left him and Sunshine alone in the middle of the parking lot.

“I thought you were leaving town?”

Sunshine looked down at the cracked pavement and closed her eyes. “I can’t find my sister.” Her voice was just above a whisper. “I can’t leave until I do.”

“Shit,” Steve muttered to himself and ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, um, how about this. You can crash on my couch for another night, and then tomorrow maybe I could, like, help you look for her. Or we could find someone who can help us, okay?”

Instead of answering, Sunshine glanced over at where Tommy and Carol stood laughing at the trunk of the car.

“They’re my friends. They’re cool, and they don’t know that you’re not…not from around here?” His words came out as more of a question. He assumed she wasn’t from around there; he’d never seen her before. “They just think you’re a family friend, and no one’s going to tell otherwise, all right?”

Steve lived in a bubble; he had all of his life. He was a rich kid from a small town and had the freedom to do whatever, whenever he wanted, but he wasn’t an idiot. Even from inside his bubble, he knew that there was no shortage of creeps and weirdos in the world and even in his town. And Sunshine was a skinny teenage girl who was all alone. He couldn't just leave her to her own devices and not feel guilty about it. That, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious about her. Maybe he’d figure her out if she stayed another night on his couch.

“But that’s a lie.” She spoke slowly, almost like she was unsure of the words she was saying.

“Yeah, well, unless you tell me and them the truth, lying is kind of the only option,” he said bluntly. “Besides, they lie all the time. I don’t think it matters much to them.”

She seemed to weigh her options. Her fingers twitched and they ran over the skin on her wrist for a moment before she dropped her hands back at her sides and looked at him. “Okay.”

If Steve’s parents had been home, they’d have a million and one things to scold him about. The beers Tommy had smuggled from his house, the party he was hosting, and the girl he was harboring inside his home. But his parents weren’t home and he was left to rely on his own decision-making skills.

He just kept telling himself that it was one teenage girl. How much trouble could she possibly bring?

Tagged → @thearcher-winchester-version @suniloli

@sattlersquarry

[hersterical]

(For Billy this is before he’s possessed by the mindflayer AND before we see the beginnings of what could have been a redemption arc)

(For Jason this is before his girlfriend was murdered and he watched one of his best friends die a very gruesome and clearly supernatural death)

I couldn’t think of any bullies who aren’t also douche bags and/or jerks

Honorable mentions for this chart include but are not limited to: Robin, Eddie, Steve in the other 3 seasons, Nancy when she’s in a bad mood or stressed, Mike, and Max

[hannahhook7744]

Ophelia Hagan, Daughter of Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins;

Trigger warnings: violence, anger issues, law breaking, and secret relationships.

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

Her full name is Ophelia Artemis Hagan.

She is the daughter of Tommy Hagan and Carol Perkins.

She is fifteen years old.

She is dating Adrien Byers-Wheeler—not that their parents are aware of that.

She has asthma. Despite this, she likes sitting with Adrien and Nova when they smoke—because it makes her feel less lonely. 

Ophelia practices witchcraft with Adrien and Nova for fun and because she's curious to see if it will work. 

She has a protective streak like both her parents. 

Oh and she has her dad's temper. 

She owns tarot cards and is a big fan of gothic and punk culture. 

Ophelia loves embroidery, card games, sewing, Halloween, and urban exploring. 

She takes part in her boyfriend's YouTube channel.

She is surprisingly good at breaking and entering but will not elaborate on HOW she knows how to do so and when she learned to do so. 

She also takes part in quite a bit of vandalism not that she will admit this in front of her parents.

Ophelia is good at climbing and sneaking around. 

She is very protective of her younger brother (despite the fact they don't always get along) and is not afraid to hit a bitch—especially since she knows she will not get in trouble with her parents if she does so to protect herself or her loved ones. 

Ophelia is amazing at Archery and uses this as a weapon when she needs one. 

Her favorite color is black BUT she also loves patchwork clothes and includes that into her outfit when she can. 

She's note a big fan of makeup but still knows how to do it and will do it for others  as well as herself on special occasions. 

She has six of Adrien's shirts/hoodies in her closet but since their styles are so similar her parents haven't noticed. 

Ophelia finds killing Demogorgons and the like VERY therapeutic.

She uses her 'creepiness' to her advantage to scare off people she doesn't like. It works surprisingly often. 

Oh and at this point, she gives absolutely no fucks as to how people view her due to all the times grown ass adults have bullied her due to who her parents. 

Ophelia loves death rock and Halloween music as well as heavy metal but will listen to other music types as well if she likes the lyrics. 

One of her favorite non heavy metal or death rock artists is Melanie Martinez. 

She loves cookies and cream ice cream. 

She wears an evil eye necklace that Adrien gave her for their one year anniversary. 

She doesn’t have a lot in common with her parents but they get along just fine regardless. 

She writes fanfiction. 

Ophelia skips class often. Which has resulted in a lot of detentions that she also skipped. 

She loves horror movies. 

She has a black and white pet rabbit named 'Oreo'.

She has a patchwork of random knowledge that she can let loose on a whim. 

Stefan Harrington is, surprisingly, her best friend. But she is close to the other Harrington kids as well. 

She is surprisingly good with kids and loves doing face paint for them.

Her most used curse word is 'bullshit'. 

She hates drama and just wants to be left alone. 

She works at the pumpkin patch. 

She has a record. No, she won't tell you what for because it isn't your business. 

Ophelia HATES entitled people and will not mince words when dealing with them. 

She gets headaches often. 

She makes fanart and fan edits.

When she finds interest in something, she can become a bit obsessed with it. 

Her favorite horror movie is Final Destination ( because she looks like one of the actresses, not that she'll admit to it). 

Her favorite video game is the Sims. 

Her favorite book is 'The Old Willis Place' by Mary Downing. 

One time in middle school someone hit Adrien and Ophelia went absolutely ballistic on them…. Which is exactly why most people don't mess with Adrien. Probably doesn't help that the one time someone a little older tried to start something, Zane lost his shit on them too.

Note:

These headcanons take place in my Stranger Things au 'Cats in the Cradle'. In that au, Tommy and Carol are left to raise Steve's four infant children with the help of the Upside Down Crew, Steve's half brother, Steve's younger cousin, and their collective families.  In that au, Jason and Eddie live.  Max is less seriously injured.  Phil Callahan is Steve's older half brother and Chrissy, her brother, and Fred Benson were Steve's cousins.  Oh and Steve hooked up with one of his pre-nancy girlfriends and after his death she found herself pregnant with quads that Steve never got to meet. Hope that clears up any confusion regarding these ocs and headcanons. 

[hawkins-polls]

[belovedharringrove]

everyone say “thank you @deedoop for convincing rea to post more”

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what was steve doing in nancy’s room??? 🫢🫢🫢 y’all can probably guess lmao

[steviesbicrisis]

The Choice is Yours, Steve Harrington | updates

An interactive AU where your choices matter!

Prologue

You've stumbled upon mine and @hairstevington's AU and you wanna follow along? if so, here's a few ways you can do it:

Subscribe on AO3;

Follow both @steviesbicrisis and @hairstevington cause we will take turns posting the chapters;

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Please only like and reblog this post!! don't leave comments or reblog with tags cause you will spam people unnecessarily! thank you <;3

[thatgirlwithasquid]

Whoop whoop!! Happy pride to my fave losers <3

and to all of you seeing this as well!

part 2

[okaybutlikeimagine]

Don’t Give Yourself Away

Pt. 2 of the Low Life series that I started forever and a day ago! It’s just the enemies section of the enemies-to-lovers plot, bear with me here

TW: alcohol, underage drinking, driving under the influence, mentions of violence, violent thoughts, Billy just wanting to punch things basically

Read it on A03 here! :D

~~~*~~~

Fuck Steve Harrington.

That’s the consensus that Billy’s brain has come to as he sits in the overcrowded, gratingly loud cafeteria of Hawkins High. It’s been half a day here and that’s the only thing ringing through his ears  as he picks at the hunk of ground up meat this school tries to pass off as “food”.

“I mean, who the fuck does he think he is anyway?”

That’s Tommy, grunting over a mouthful of applesauce, his girlfriend sitting next to him and twisting up her mouth in some kind of disgusted agreement. Or maybe it’s more so irritation at the very bitter topic of interest. Billy can only grunt wordlessly back at him.

Tommy’s been rattling off for the last ten minutes about how Steve “betrayed” them, Carol’s listening with vague disinterest, and Billy’s thinking of ways to crawl out of his skin. All it took was one long look at Steve Harrington this morning in the parking lot to tell him he was in some serious trouble. And when that wide eyed girl got out of the same car… Billy felt the bitter fire of jealousy lick at every corner within him. And lord did he hate it.

He hates even more how he can’t even convince himself in some kind of soothing reprieve that she’s just a friend or a sister because he saw them. In the hallway when he was walking from one dreary class to another. Billy heard the guy giggle as she hit his chest and reprimanded him for his “stupid” sunglasses. As he smiled the brightest thing Billy had ever seen and said something that sounded like “I missed you”. Said something like “Tell me about it” when she pointed out that it had only been an hour. He purred it out as he cradled the side of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss; pulled her closer, smiling like she was everything and he couldn’t be close enough. Right there in the middle of the hallway for everyone to see. For all the hope and potential to seep out of Billy’s body and pool onto the ground.

“Leaving us to be with those… freaks.”

The boy in question is about 2 tables over, talking with that girl and some lanky dude with a shaggy haircut who looks like he can’t hold himself upright. Billy thinks it’s the punk he bumped into earlier in the hallway as he stormed away from whatever show Steve Harrington thought he was putting on with that girl. The same kid who Tommy and Carol were picking on earlier as they entered the cafeteria- sending rude jeers and snickers his way about being “cursed” and “creepy”.

Tommy and Carol are jackasses. It doesn’t take a whole lot of time for Billy to put that together- they’re loud and inconsiderate, walking and acting like they have something to prove with everything they do. They look down their noses at everyone they can, despite Carol only being 5 foot and Tommy being not even a foot taller. They take up so little space but walk like they can make demands of the world. Small fish in even smaller ponds. Billy knows and hates the type.

But Steve Harrington… He’s 2 tables over and he’s laughing something loud and bright and handing the lanky dude some of his food in some kind gesture and he’s got his arm around that girl and he kisses her temple where her hair meets soft skin and- and Tommy is right. Who the hell does this boy think he is and why the hell does he think he gets to be that way so unabashedly? Where does he get off, shining so brightly that Billy can’t even hope to get near?

“Clearly he made a big mistake.” Carol mutters, paying adamant attention to her tray and looking pissed to high hell with the conversation at hand.

Ripping his eyes away from the laughing and joyful Steve Harrington does more harm than good, because it means Billy has to look at a sulking Carol and Tommy. Billy hates more than anything that these people are the best people for him to stick to. He’s not here to make life-long friends- he’s only got a couple of years until he can get the fuck out and back to California. He’s not clinging to any hope for happiness here, he just wants people who are popular enough to make life easy and tolerable enough to keep him sane. A year or two and that’s it, he’s out and can scrub all of this clean from his memory. And hell, maybe sharing a common enemy will give him something to do in the meantime.

Billy’s not even fully sure what Steve did to these two to have them bitching so much. Tommy’s been rambling uselessly and Carol seems about as sick of it as Billy is, regardless of her seeming to agree. Everyone else around them is paying no mind anymore.

 This shit must happen often…

The only information he’s gathered is that Steve was their friend and they had some violent falling out and now Steve walks around with the prissy girl and the punk-ass boy. It’s been a long 10 minutes already.

 Just two years...

“Not King Steve anymore.” Tommy bites out and that gets Billy listening.

“King Steve?” He scoffs at the title. “Are you serious? Who the hell called him that?”

“Everyone.” A girl chimes in- Billy doesn’t know her name. He stopped inputting information past a certain point.

“Why?” He asks over his orange juice carton.

Everyone at the table looks at him like he’s grown a second head.

“Because he’s hot.” Carol supplies like it shouldn’t need to be said. Billy holds himself back from comment.

“He’s never had an awkward day in his life.” Tommy says, sounding just as bitter as before. “He acts better than everyone and we all just… agreed.”

At that, Tommy turns in on himself. There’s guilt on his face.

“He practically ruled the school.” Another girl adds, doing a fuck all job of reading the room as she swoons over her words.

And with all that, they’ve answered Tommy’s question.

 He knows exactly who he is. He’s the King, because they told him so.

Billy sends another look his way, to the boy that seems to have everything he could possibly need. The boy smiling and laughing. Somehow Billy doesn’t think this fallen “king” made that big of a mistake. This boy looks like he needs nothing more in his life than these two “losers” and a place to be with them… and Billy feels bitterness in himself growing ever faster.

“Yeah, well not anymore.” Billy growls darkly.

The energy shifts at the table- all the dejected faces of these people who have lost their effervescent leader turn hopeful onto Billy. He couldn’t have guessed to overthrow the “king” of Hawkins High on his very first afternoon, but he can’t say he fully dreads it.

 People doing what I say? Could be nice. It’s good to have people on my side… and it’s only two years.

“Yeah, not anymore.” Tommy nods in agreement, grinning through something sour still. Billy can’t say he really gives a shit about whatever this dude is going through.

“Anyone else to avoid?” Billy asks dismissively.

“Underclassmen mostly.” One girl complains. “God they are so annoying.”

“Some of them are worth a good screw though.”

The girl smacks the guy who just perked up. “You’re so disgusting.”

“I’m right.”

“Stop screwing freshmen! Just because you can’t get anyone else to touch your dick-”

Billy tunes out their bickering.

“I heard Julie’s a pretty good screw, too.” Tommy says lasciviously, clearly feeling more normal again. Carol doesn’t seem to be having it, though.

“I don’t trust Julie as far as I can throw her.”

“Oh yeah? I’ve heard some pretty good things-”

“She talks too much.” Carol crosses her arms indignantly. “It’s the people who talk the most that have done the least. Plus her mother is the town gossip, and the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, does it? She never shuts her trap.”

Billy hates a gossip. He makes a face that Carol must register, because she’s giving him a look like she’s been proven right.

“Yeah, exactly. So unless you want a single kiss and everyone to know about your dick that she’s never even seen before, you’ll stay away.”

“Jealous?”

Carol turns to Tommy with a gasp. “You’ve never even touched Julie Warner, so don’t you start.”

Tommy’s grin is feral and Carol looks about ready to deck him, but she just scoots in closer to him and continues to pick at her tray of food.

The brisk fall air coming in from the open window feels like an insult. Billy looks outside and wishes it smelled of salt rather than pine. Wishes the trees weren’t so fluffy but rather slim and impossibly tall. Wishes the world wasn’t quite so gray and brown and hopeless. Wishes, wishes, wishes…

He shoves his hands in his pockets for some protection and feels out the crumpled neon invite he dismissively shoved away before.

“What about... Tina?” He asks with general disinterest, reading from the paper in his hand. They shrug.

“Tina’s cool.” Carol admits. “Her mom is out of town on some business thing so the house is gonna be empty for the party.”

“Doesn’t really matter what Tina’s like though.” Tommy says, scraping the bottom of the applesauce container with his spoon like it’s his dying meal. “A party’s a party, right?”

Billy figures he can agree.

“You’re going, yeah?”

All eyes turn to Billy again, expectant. Suddenly, the weight of whatever “leadership” role he’s taken on has hit him. Maybe he should have just skulked in the corner and kept away from anyone’s attention. Maybe all those “freaks” they pick on had the right idea of lurking in the shadows and keeping your head down.

Then again, no. Talk is dangerous, and… Mr. Chief Hopper said it himself: “Not a lot to do around here but talk.” If they’re gonna talk, he’d rather control the conversation.

 Two years…

“Is there anything else to do in this piece of shit town?” He asks by way of an answer, with a sort of disgust he can’t wipe from his words.

They all laugh with mirthless agreement. Clearly, Billy was right. A boring old town full of cow shit and corn stalks- nothing to be proud of or excited about here. He’s surrounded by people itching to get out, just like him… except Billy’s not going to be like them. He’d bet his soul that at least half of these kids are gonna become burnouts trapped in the general area; like wriggling and desperate flies in a small town spiderweb.

“So, Billy…” The girl next to him purrs, scooting in and getting far too close for comfort. “Tell us more about California.”

Billy absentmindedly squirms out of her grip and silently begs for strength.

~~*~~

“I’m very sorry Billy,” Coach Walters or Wallens or goddamn Walrus says, not sounding very sorry at all. “But the roster was already decided over a week ago.”

They stop in front of his office, the man fumbling with a set of keys. Billy’s glaring down at them with furrowed and angered brows, feeling himself snarling at the clanging metal.

He looks up when the Coach does, his expression failing slightly at the almost sympathetic look on the coach’s face.

“I’m sorry. You’re just too late.”

“I can’t be too late.” Billy insists, voice straining a bit. He’s not going to say he’s been following the coach around desperately ever since school got out 20 minutes ago, asking and pushing and borderline pleading to try out for the basketball team… because no one’s here to see it anyway so he doesn’t have to admit to shit.

“You are.” The coach sighs, reaching out to grab the equipment from Billy’s hands. He offered to carry it, thinking it’d give him an edge of favor. Now Billy holds it back like it’s a hostage.

“You can make an exception for me.” Billy says assuredly. Coach Walrus shakes his head, bushy eyebrows low and deep frown unable to be hidden, even behind his abundant whiskery beard and mustache.

“I’ve given two exceptions already to other guys.”

“That’s not my problem!” Billy bites, holding back a wince when the coach frowns harder at him.

There’s a pause, a staring match that holds all of Billy’s hope for a decent time here in this wretched place. There’s nothing to do around here but wander the streets, and the temperature is dropping far too rapidly for that to be comfortable much longer. He doesn’t want to be huddling in the cold outdoors this fall, or god forbid by the time winter sneaks around. And there’s no way in hell that Billy is spending more time at home than he needs to. Billy’s got a few things going for him, but he could count those few things on one hand, and he’s not going to sit here and let one of those things be ripped away by being a week late when that isn’t even his fault.

He stares. He refuses to back down. He refuses to hand over the equipment.

“It is if you wanna make the team.” The coach says lowly. Threatens, if Billy had to guess… but there might be hope in that statement, and it keeps Billy from throwing the sports equipment down on the ground at his feet.

The coach stalks into his office. Billy follows.

“I was on my team back at home.” He tries quickly, heart pulling uncomfortably at the thought of it. He can’t think about things he misses, or he’ll get stuck.

“Alright, that doesn’t mean much.”

“We were in the best division in the state. We won championships.” Billy’s selling his former team way up. No one has to know, and certainly not this man. He only hopes he doesn’t look into it too hard.

The coach takes pause, eyeing Billy as he fiddles uselessly with paperwork on his desk.

“That says nothing about you as a player.”

Billy’s going to pull his hair out. He clutches the bag of dodge balls in his hand with a death grip.

“I can show you how I am as a player.” Billy grits out, vague recognition of threads breaking from under his grip. “If you just let me try out.”

The coach raises his eyebrow.

“You can put that equipment over in that corner.”

Billy looks down at the fraying bag and his popped out veins. He takes a few steps to toss the assaulted bag in the aforementioned corner.

“I just don’t have that kind of time right now, Billy-”

“Well I can vouch for myself.”

“I can’t just have kids vouching for themselves and getting onto our Varsity.”

“I was the best player on my team!”

Some would say that’s debatable, but-

“You were the captain?” the coach asks with a skeptical look. The words “best” and “captain” don’t have any correlation in Billy’s mind, but he nods his head anyway.

“Yes, I was.”

A lie. But it’s not like captain even matters, especially when the real captain was the son of the coach and mediocre at best.

“And do you have someone who can vouch for that?”

Billy reels. He hears a gruff, distant voice in his head.

 ... name and number… someone I can call… your best interest in mind...

He desperately wishes things could just be easy. He wishes it wasn’t such a witch-hunt to find someone who cares.

“You can call my coach.” Billy says, trying not to sound as lame as he feels. He’s fully aware his coach retired last year, it’s some new guy now that Billy didn’t bother to meet before the move. He knows if this man calls, he’s not going to get much by way of an answer. He’s hoping it’ll work in his favor- he seems so busy with fuck knows what that maybe he’ll just get sick enough of this to let it slide.

The exasperated sigh that leaves Coach Walrus seems like the nail in the coffin, Billy’s just not sure which coffin yet-

“Coach?” calls a voice, smooth and distant. “Coach Wallace?”

Another groan fills the room as the coach pushes past with an apologetic face to get back into the gym. Billy follows, feeling more flustered than he’d like. They’re not done here, they can’t be-

“Sorry Steve.” Coach Wallace laments.

 Steve.

The boy in question is standing in the door, mid-afternoon sun backlighting him with a glow that makes Billy want to hurt someone. Maybe him. Maybe there’s something to be said of Billy wanting to destroy every pretty thing he sees.

Steve looks at him with confused curiosity in his eyes. Billy can’t help but puff his chest out at the evaluation- maybe Steve even rakes his eyes up and down Billy.

But Steve looks away quickly. Billy tries not to deflate.

“Are you still coming by for dinner?” Steve asks, looking at the coach. Billy scoffs. Steve glares.

“Oh, yes, sorry Steve. I hope I’m not keeping your parents waiting-”

“Nah, if I know my mom she’s still mixing drinks and… making hors d'oeuvres or something.”

 The fuck is an “or derve”?

The coach and Steve laugh. Steve’s laugh is too damn pretty. Billy thinks about ways he can wrap his hands around a laugh.

“I just came by to ask if you still need help getting to my house.”

“Oh yes, if you could. I’ve been there so many times, you’d think I’d have the trip down by now.”

“Eh, it’s a little out of the way.” Steve shrugs, popping out his hip, hands in his pockets. His nonchalance is liable to drive Billy to murder. “I just uh… I’ve got somewhere to be tonight and I’ve kind of gotta… get ready for that. But no rush-”

“Ohhh… a nice date tonight?”

 Get ready, huh?

Steve rubs the back of his neck, smile sheepish. He’s just so polite.

“Eh it’s… it’ll be something.”

“Alright well then let’s-”

Billy clears his throat as loudly as possible.

“Oh! Sorry Billy uh... “ The coach heaves another sigh, like Billy couldn’t be any more of a burden. Billy fucking hates that sound. “Look. I’ve made a lot of exceptions already, but you seem committed to wanting to be on this team and lord knows we could use the commitment here. So… I’m taking your word for it just this once. Practice is right here every weekday right after school except for Mondays, alright?”

“Got it.”

“If I decide at practice that you’re not up to snuff, don’t throw a fit with me.”

“That won’t happen.”

Billy doesn’t specify which one he means. The coach seems to notice.

“I mean it.”

The coach points a thick, red finger in Billy’s face, his own very serious. And with that, he’s turning back towards Steve and leaving the gym. Steve is still standing there, backlit by the sun, leaning against the door and only shifting to let the coach leave first.

He peels his eyes away from Billy, looking impossibly and offensively disinterested.

And fuck Steve Harrington.

That’s the consensus that Billy’s brain has come to as he climbs into his bed that night, the nippy chill of the late October Indiana air seeping in through his drafty windows. It hasn’t even been 24 hours to come to this; it seems as though everything in this town can be ruined in a matter of 24 hours or less.

He’s fitful as he sleeps, as always. And as always, his sleep is mostly blank images and stressful feelings. However, every now and then, in between the anxious dark, he sees a sort of prettiness he wishes he could get his hands on and wring out- violently.

~~~~*~~~~

In his 16 years of public schooling, there’s one important lesson Billy has learned: being popular isn’t as important as being intimidating.

He could be the most friendless, insignificant sap on campus- in fact, Billy’s starting to think he would have preferred that option -but being feared is the only status of any worth. Being feared means no one talking shit about him. Being feared means everyone bending over backwards to get on his good side. Being feared means no trying to shove him around or trying to pick a fight because they know he’ll dish it out just as good as he can take it.

Back at home, Billy got into fights outside of school. Plenty of them. Enough to have all the students know he wasn’t one to be messed with. More than a few bruised faces and black eyes told everyone to never dare accuse him of empty threats. But here, in Bumfuck, Indiana with only the cows and their shit for company, no one knows a single thing about him. He’s just the latest newcomer who happened to ride in on a glittery California wave.

He figures this blank slate has given him a few options: hope someone starts a shitty rumor about him, start that rumor himself, or get in a fight.

He’d rather anything but that last one. No part of him wants to expel more energy than is absolutely necessary in this place. Everything’s easier when you let others do the work for you.

And for as angry as he’s been these last couple of days, he’s tired most of all. Tired from new homes and new time zones and new schools and new roads and new people and the same old expectations he’s always had to deal with… he’s just tired. There’s too much figuring out to be done. For as boring as this shitty town is, nothing’s normal here. He doesn’t want to have to do so much to exist comfortably. And he certainly doesn’t want to have to waste the energy on beating someone’s face in if he doesn’t need to.

He wants all of the benefits with none of the work. If he can get through this by staying low and having everyone assume more of him than he’s willing to give, things will be good.

He just has to get through it. And getting through it tends to be the hardest part.

He hears talk. Lots of it. None of it is quite what he wants yet. It’s only been a day, but every second counts when it comes to reputation, especially when that reputation is riding on a rumor. By the end of next week the momentum will die down and he knows he can’t wait that long. So he listens intently to the talk around him- mentions of “rockstars” and “roads paved gold” and “is that a scar?” and that’s what catches Billy’s ear the most. There’s hope filling in him that maybe he’ll get exactly what he wants.

“He doesn’t deserve an exception. He just moved here.”

The voice is coming around the corner from where Billy is shoving useless books into his locker. It almost sounds familiar, but in a way that grates at Billy’s ears.

“I don’t know, man.” A far less familiar voice responds.

“He’s cocky.” It’s spat out with disgust. The boys can’t see Billy if he can’t see them, but he knows the words are about him. He can feel it tugging in him. “Why does he think he gets special treatment?”

“You get special treatment, too.”

“What? No I don’t.” The familiar voice is a petulant little whine now.

“The coach visits your house all the time.” And that’s what seals it.

This guy is talking to Harrington.

“... okay but that’s different though.”

That’s Steve Harrington. With his self-entitled confidence and his irritated whine. He’s not getting what he wants and he’s pissed about it. Or maybe it’s more than that. Billy is clutching his last book with white knuckles, wondering why his being on the team means anything to this rich little prick.

“You weren’t even here for tryouts, were you?” It’s the other guy. Billy’s seeing red. “You were still on vacation, but Coach let you on the team anyway.”

He can hear Harrington stutter, grasping for straws on how to defend himself.

“Yeah but... But that’s just different c’mon man, you know that. Coach knows me, he doesn’t know this… asshole.”

“He might be good for the team.”

“Who cares? He’s a pain in my ass.”

Billy doesn’t realize how hard he slams his locker until he rounds the corner and sees wide eyes and open mouths. He realizes he doesn’t care far quicker, though. His fists are clenched hard, knuckles cracking. People are whispering. He can’t hear their words. He’s staring down this stupid boy with his pretty face and wants so badly to see it ruined. Wants so badly to take one of the many things this self-centered prick gets to have as his own. Wants to ruin what he has- wants to rid him of even half of that privilege.

Harrington’s face is shocked, but it washes away into dismissiveness. He raises his nose up.

“He’s just a worthless poser. He doesn’t belong on the team.”

Billy seethes.

But Harrington doesn’t see it, because he’s turned around and walked away. The other guy is still standing there, gaping, before he walks away too, but Billy barely realizes. He’s got laser focused vision on Harrington. Billy’s fists flex.

He wants to do something. He wants to hurt him. He wants to chase him down the hall and get his hands into him. Feel his flesh under him. Feel him writhe under him.

He wants him gasping for air and pleading.

His chest fills with bile just at the thought… the thought of wanting…

Billy turns and walks the other way.

He doesn’t know why he does it. He still sees Harrington’s face in his mind, dismissive and uninterested, and then it all morphs into just shapes… and there’s more energy coursing through him now than there has been since he first stepped foot on the soft and muddy Indiana soil- and it’s poisonous. It’s the sort of energy that wrecks through his body, making his limbs shake and his heart race until he’s finally got his hands on something. It’s the sort of energy that makes him feel sick when he thinks back on it afterwards… that makes him feel like a familiar monster. The sort of thoughts that make his heart race with anxiety alongside the adrenaline. There’s just a scary kind of freedom in roughing someone up- he’s big and he’s strong enough. He’s worked hard for it. There’s control in taking it into his own hands. It feels like all he can do sometimes. All he needs is to get a good grab. He can get anything within reach. He just needs a reason.

“Hey, Hollywood… what’s with the red face? Can’t handle a little Indiana sun-”

There’s a reason.

He doesn’t register anything until he’s in the front office, being sternly spoken to by the vice principal. He gathers from the conversation that he gave the guy a bruised stomach and he “should be lucky it only got that far” because “from what I’ve heard, you’ve got a new coach. And he doesn’t take kindly to this kind of behavior.”

Billy doesn’t even think about it until later that night, when he’s getting ready for Tina’s stupid party and hears those afternoon words repeat through his mind. Words questioning his worth, questioning his character, threatening to take away something he just barely got… all because he got angry. All because he couldn’t handle himself. All because he’s a mirror. He’s just a reflection of all the worst things he sees...

No, it happened because of Harrington. Because of Harrington most of all. Yeah. Because Harrington couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut or his shitty opinions to himself. Because Harrington has a face too pretty for his own good.

 Fuck Steve Harrington.

~~~*~~~

Billy likes it loud.

Everything. Everything loud.  Loud music, loud sex, and certainly loud parties. Loud parties bring a comfort that quiet ones could never hope to grasp. Billy can’t be around this many people without his body vibrating from constant energy. Without his eardrums shaking from the wailing music.

There’s no thoughts to be had while inverted and chugging watery beer out of a dirty, spit soaked keg. He gets a high off of the overstimulation, his body rushing itself over with adrenaline. Then he kicks his foot, and the guys at his ankles let him down, and his ears are buzzy enough to drown out the cheering he can see is taking place in his honor. His heart is thumping heavily. The cheers get louder as his blood settles back into its regular flow. He can feel large hands patting and pawing his shoulders and back.

He cheers along with them, vibrating with the words he’s saying even though they’re gibberish to his ears. There’s no need to be coherent as he shouts, wandering back into the house and cutting through the crowd of people as he puffs his cigarette. He feels a hand- must be Tommy’s -lingering on his back and shoulder. Hit him there. Stay there. Lingering lingering. He’s too out of his mind, too out of place to care too much.

Being drunk makes it easier to stay at this lame party. Most of it is blurry to him, what with his stuttering movement and the way his eyes have started to water after being upside down for so long. He’s fixated on streamers hanging from the ceiling, figuring they must actually be toilet paper now that he’s got his hands on them, pulling them absent-mindedly from the ceiling like a cat with yarn. He’s dizzy with everything, suddenly aching for something for his mouth to do, thinking of going for his cigarette again or even tonguing at the paper when-

 Fuck.

He keeps a good grip on the toilet paper, hardly realizing that he’s bringing it with him as his focus is completely honed in on a figure leaning up against the nearest wall. He pushes past writhing bodies, vaguely hearing the music as it shouts over all of them. There’s only one person Billy cares about right now- maybe only one person he’s cared about all week.

He doesn’t have words and doesn’t feel he needs them. Tommy’s scratchy voice says all he needs him to.

“We’ve got ourselves a new Keg King, Harrington.”

Billy stares Steve Harrington down with fervor, but he can only see himself in the reflection of Harrinton’s glasses. He’s blurry even to himself, and it leaves him angry.

“Yeah, that’s right!” Is the voice of another guy Billy never bothered to remember the name of. “Yeah, eat it, Harrington!”

Harrington takes his glasses off then, face looking every bit as serious as Billy feels. They just stare as time vibrates around them. Or maybe it’s just Billy. Billy still has no words in his throat, and especially not with Steve’s eyes on his. Billy thinks, briefly and loosely, about how he still wishes he had something to do with his mouth right now.

And then it’s just as always- as if Billy couldn’t be more boring if he tried -because Steve looks away with disinterest. He shifts his focus over to Tommy and his lips curl into something that straddles the line of a smile and a sneer.

“Harrington, huh? Whatever happened to Stevie?” He asks it in a way that makes Billy’s blood run hot in a way that isn’t just anger. It gets Tommy shifting nervously. Harrington’s smirk just grows wider.

His eyes flick back over to Billy for a quick second, before leaning in and speaking seriously to Tommy: “You can tell your new King I hope he enjoys all my sloppy seconds.”

Tommy’s face burns a bright red but Billy can’t see that because he can’t look away from Steve. He’s a whirlwind of everything violent and intoxicated and overwhelmed and far too strong. He sneers, ready to lunge but his body won’t let him. His feet are planted.

“Happy Halloween!” Harrington chirps, looking far too happy and far too satisfied and far too bright in his all-black outfit as he walks away. And Billy wants to lunge at him. Wants to spit out all of his hatred. Wants to blame his whole life on this one guy as he saunters away.

But Tommy stalks away with a dark mutter. And then there’s a crowd sweeping Billy up and leading him back over to the dance floor.

And it’s times like these Billy is glad it’s loud, because he doesn’t need to speak to anyone. But it’s times like these where Billy hates it loud, too, because loud means people. Lots of people. People touching him and writhing against him and sweating on him. His stomach starts to churn with the way everyone is undulating around him.

He shoves his way towards the window, seeing most people have migrated either inside or out back, now that the keg seems to be empty. There’s a few stragglers still coming in fashionably late, lots of cars parked outside, but there’s a small patch of dried grass over to the side that’s completely vacant. It looks like a haven right about now. He pushes through the crowd until they part like the red sea for him, giving him the chance to stumble outside and lay out on the grass.

When he gets there and flops himself down, he laments how rough and scratchy it feels. He silently cusses out Tina and her folks, figuring there’s no way it can be drier here than it is back where he’s from, down near the border where they're in a drought most of the year and the heat dries up the plants. Figures they must just be cheap. Can’t even take care of their own lawn.

And Billy wonders who he’s kidding. His old man is the same damn way.

He lays back, head feeling woozy from leaving the heat of all those bodies and heading straight into the crisp fall air. While the grass is harsh and offensive against him, he’s still grateful for the stability now pressed against his back. For a second, quick and warm, he feels fully safe.

And if there’s anything to be said for Hawkins- for all of Indiana and the piece of shit Billy still firmly believes it to be -it’s the night sky. It’s every star above Billy that’s winking back at him crystal clear. It’s the hundreds of them… hell maybe thousands of them that are in view right now on the crunchy grass next to Tina’s house.

San Diego was vastly different. Even in the small towns bordering it, the stars could never be this abundant and bright. Only when Billy and his friends dared each other to paddle out into the ocean on their surfboards late at night could they see anywhere near this many stars. Only on the farthest and most secluded corners of the beaches, or the very tip of the more vacant piers.

There’s some comfort and some pain when Billy thinks about how these are the same stars that can be found in San Diego. Roughly. Right? It’s certainly the same Fall moon. It’s a different breeze hitting him right now, chilling him down to his bones and making him wish he was on that surfboard. Wishing he and his friends were talking about something stupid and childish. Wishing the harsh ground beneath him was rocking like a rolling wave.

Billy’s always hated wishes. Despised them. He never gets anything he wishes for. They’re not worth the breath.

Still somehow his brain never quite gets the memo.

He’s dizzy with booze and people and wishes. He’s staring at the stars, watching them twinkle, wondering how the real search out here in the boondocks is for a plane in the sky rather than a celestial body, and he wishes for things. He wishes for pretty things. Wishes for things he can get his hands on. Wishes for ease. Wishes for salty breezes. Wishes for seagulls. Wishes for seashells. Wishes for and wishes for and wishes for-

He hears the door open and slam- heavier now than it has been as people wander into the party late. He sits up quickly, immediately feeling that keg he chugged earlier and that joint he hit before getting here and those beers he had in the car ride over and-

Someone is trudging down the walkway, smacking bushes angrily as they go. Billy watches with unfocused eyes, noticing first the dark outfit and then the coiffed hair.

“Harrington!” Billy shouts after him, heart pumping quickly, watching as the boy doesn’t slow even for a second. He heaves himself off the ground, head feeling heavy, wondering if his eyes are deceiving him or not. “Harrington, you…”

The boy’s steps falter. He shifts his attention, just a little, in Billy’s direction and there he is. That pretty face. Billy hates the way Harrington shifts his attention away so quickly, just like always. As if Billy couldn’t be any more worthless if he tried. As if Harrington himself is the one deciding factor of something like that.

So Billy starts to walk after him, his own steps lazy versus Harrington’s urgent pace.

“How’s it feel? Huh?” Billy’s mouth feels like mush, so he yells louder to compensate. “Being such a loser? Losing everything you had?”

He watches as the moon illuminates the bit of Harrington’s pale neck exposed to the air. He wants his nails in this boy’s skin. He wants to dig into him and under him in every way. He wants a lot of things he can’t stand to put into words.

Harrington still isn’t looking. His stride still isn’t breaking. Billy is pissed, tries to walk a little faster, tries to yell a little louder.

“Must really suck doesn’t it, champ? Hm? Knowing you don’t mean anything to anyone anymore.”

If Billy isn’t mistaken, Harrington starts to walk faster. It feels kind of good and kind of sick to see him react. So he keeps yelling after him.

“Knowing you’re nothing to them now, eh hot shot?”

Harrington’s steps get heavier. Billy feels a cackle rising up through his throat.

“Knowing you lost it all-”

“God, no one gives a shit about you!” Comes a voice that startles Billy, knowing it’s not his own, but rather Harrington’s. He’s damn near screeching as he spins around quickly. His face is bright red, even in the dim light of the night, and his expression is folded into rage. “Not a single shit!”

Billy nearly falls as he stumbles back, suddenly being faced with a shift in momentum. He cements his feet to the grass as best he can, staring down Harrington and his dark eyes. His mouth falls open in his shock.

“They?” Harrington continues, gesturing wildly to the house behind them. “Aren’t worth anything. They’re gonna forget you in a month, tops. And then what do you have? Huh?”

Billy blinks, bewildered and suddenly boiling, Because how dare he… how dare he-

“Who cares what you have to say! You mean nothing! Just get the fuck away from me.”

And then Steve turns back around, stomping down the street, probably to find his car. And Billy watches after him, stumbles backwards a bit, clenches his fists tightly. The words stick to the cold air like a tongue to a frozen pole, rushing around Billy’s head in heavy, dark promises. In harsh and brittle words of truth.

 No one gives a shit…

His knuckles crack again with how hard he’s clenching them, and he moves to go after him with his fists- but he fumbles. His head is spinning with harsh truths now too. Everything feels wrong and sour. He tries to chase after him, go get his hands on him, to make him pay- but he just stumbles forward like he’s a deer with newfound legs.

And Billy wishes. Billy wishes with all his might to get his hands on something tangible and breakable and fragile.

He can’t help it… he watches Steve pull away and down the road, driving faster than Billy’s heart is beating. Billy feels wreckage inside of him.

He turns back to the party to shove his way through the crowd, to grab another drink, and to get the hell out of here.

[wixterirox]

Carol is the real girlboss of the show

[wisdomssdaughterr]

PROJECT SUNSHINE CHAPTER FOUR → TEENAGEDOM

summary: steve harrington x oc

when another product of Hawkins National Laboratory escaped a long-survived nightmare alongside her sister, she crashed into one unsuspecting teenage boy and dragged him deeper into the dark mysteries that made up their hometown. 

word count. 3.1k

warnings: cannon typical violence, child-abuse, horror, gore, and depictions of mental illness. parts of this story were written pre-season 4 release. slight cannon divergence. 

previous chapter ← → next chapter

When Sunshine was little, she was allowed to press glow-in-the-dark stars to the ceiling of her room. It wasn’t her idea, but rather the oldest child inside the Lab. Ivy, or 002, somehow convinced them to let them all decorate their otherwise cold and white rooms with the stars. And after they were stuck to the ceiling, whenever Sunshine was upset, Ivy would sneak into her room after curfew, and they’d look at the stars together. Ivy would tell her to make a wish, and she promised that it would come true, even if they were real stars. But the older Sunshine got, she realized that wishes on fake stars didn’t come true, no matter how much you believe in them.

However, for the first time in what felt like her whole life, she saw real stars with her own eyes.

Seated in the backyard of Steve’s house, Sunshine found herself surrounded by a group of teenagers who were drastically different from her.

It was a dangerous game she was playing. The more people who knew about her added to the long list of threats the two posed, but it was a calculated risk on her part. It was either return to Steve’s house for one night or risk a night in the woods.

And it was going rather well. The lie that Steve had told his friends worked. They all believed she was a family friend, and none of them questioned it despite the obvious differences she had from them. To them, she was another teen at a party; they had no idea of the nightmare she was still too close to.

Sunshine noticed every small difference between them and her. The two boys held cans of beer in their hands and smirks plastered on their faces, and the girls wore soft-colored clothing and carried an air of sweet carelessness with them. They all were normal kids who talked about school and their plans for the weekend, while Sunshine sat with her knees pulled into her chest while the world slowly closed in around her.

Her head spun from the events that took place that day, which were full of bad decisions. When she left that morning, she didn’t realize how unprepared for the real world she was. Every person she passed made her heart seize up inside her chest The air of Hawkins was cold, and all the streets were unfamiliar.

She had roamed the woods for a while in search of Eleven, and the whole time she thought of Ivy. The older girl had been the closest thing they all had to a mother, but she was still a teenager herself. Ivy acted much older, though. She was the one who pressed kisses to their foreheads before they fell asleep and held their hands when they were scared.

Sunshine wished, more than anything, that Ivy was beside her. She would’ve known just want to do, where to go, and how to find Eleven.

Instead, Sunshine was still without her sister and still haunted by the ghost of Two.

Before she got too lost in the woods, Sunshine hesitantly ventured into town to see if her sister had sought out the paved streets instead of the towering trees. And when she entered the convenience store that afternoon, she had no intention of drawing any attention to herself. She had the money from Steve tucked safely inside her coat pocket and planned to use to it buy something to eat. But when she walked down one of the aisles, there was a woman at the other end who stared at her with a gaze that bore into Sunshine's skin. It freaked her out, so she hurried into the next aisle, but as she did so, she swore she saw the frame of a familiar ghost with dark skin and even darker eyes pass her by. In a frantic blur, she tried to chase after the conjured version of Ivy her mind had created.

She followed the false hope of a child who longed for something comfortable and familiar in such an unfamiliar place. But there was a bag of chips in her hand that she hadn’t paid for still in her hands as she rushed toward the door, and the man in charge thought she was trying to steal.

He refused to listen to her and grabbed her wrist harshly. The contact caused her to freeze and almost shut down completely. It felt like she was back in the Lab, in a paper gown and with a shaved head, being dragged down the hall. Her limbs went stiff, and her heart threatened to beat right out of her chest. She was so sure the man was going to make one phone call and that’d be it for her. They’d find her and put her right back inside the very place she had finally escaped from.

And instead of fighting back, all she could do at the moment was try not to cry like a pathetic child.

But, in an odd turn of events, the boy she’d met the night before appeared out of nowhere and untangled her from the mess she’d made. Maybe that was why she was so quick to follow him back to his house for another night.

Even in the presence of strangers in his backyard, Sunshine was a little less petrified. The people were all kids like her, and she had always trusted kids more than adults. There had yet to be an adult she came across who didn’t lie to her, hurt her, or manipulate her in some way or another. Adults never kept their promises, and Sunshine had seen adults do some of the vilest things imaginable to innocent children who couldn’t defend themselves.

It was children and teenagers alike who she trusted and put her faith into; they were the only ones who hadn’t let her down. So, she didn’t run from the unusual social scene, and sat in a chair beside Steve’s swimming pool and listened to his friends talk.

A soft sigh fell from Sunshine’s lips, and it was visible in the cool air. She watched the stars that glittered in the darkness; real stars that maybe, just maybe, made wishes come true.

“So, Stella,” someone said, calling her attention using the name Steve had made up back at the store. A petite brunette, who sat in the seat beside her, asked, “Where’d you say you were from?”

Sudden panic swelled up in her chest and her eyes darted toward Steve, who was already looking at her. He cleared his throat and toyed with the can of beer in his hands, probably formulating another lie. “Oh, man, you know, her family moves around like crazy. But, uh, you said New York was the next stop, right?”

Sunshine nodded slowly. “Yes. New York,” she repeated.

The girl who asked her the question introduced herself as Nancy. She was about the same height as Sunshine, with long hair that fell over her shoulders and a soft smile. “That’s cool! I’ve always wanted to visit New York,” she said. Maybe Sunshine did too.

One of the friends that she’d met earlier that day, Carol, flicked a lighter and grumbled, “New York’s gotta be better than this shithole.” She took a long drag of a cigarette and blew out the smoke before she spoke again. “How long are you crashing at Steve’s bachelor pad?”

���N-Not long,” she answered quickly and a little clumsy. She wasn’t used to being asked so many questions or talking much to anyone who wasn’t Eleven. And even then, she had hardly saw her sister inside the Lab.

“Not much of a talker, huh?” Tommy mused.

Sunshine shifted in her seat, unsure of what she was supposed to say until Steve steered his friend’s attention away from her. He held up another two beers and whistled at the boy. “Hey, dude, shotgun?”

Tommy’s lips quirked upwards in a smirk as Steve tossed him the can.

She watched closely as the two boys poked holes in the cans and threw their heads back, drinking it as quickly as they could before the can was empty, then they threw their trash to the ground and cheered.

There was almost nothing she understood about the world around her. Every word from the teens' mouths, mixed with carefree laughter, made her sink further into the daunting realization that she was still all alone. Steve and his friends fit together; they made sense to each other. It was Sunshine who was the clear outlier. Her mind had been re-wired to remove almost all normalcy inside of it. There was a persistent buzz in the back of her brain and a dangerous glow she could create in the palms of her hands. She wasn’t like them, but she wished she could have been.

It didn’t matter how far she and Eleven ran away from Hawkins, she’d never fully rid herself of the past. All Sunshine hoped for was that her sister got a second chance. Eleven was a few years younger, and there was still time for her to live a somewhat normal life as a kid if they fully escaped.

“Oh, shit!” A chorus of yells ripped through the air, causing Sunshine to flinch at the noise and turn her attention onto a short-haired redhead, Barb, who was standing and clutching her hand as blood dripped down her arm and onto the concrete below.

“Barb…” Nancy stood up too and placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder, but Barb jerked away and shook her head.

“It’s fine, Nance. It’s fine,” she muttered before she glanced at Steve. “Where’s your bathroom?”

“It’s just down the first hall and to the right.”

Right then, Sunshine felt a sudden shift in the air, one that she couldn’t explain but felt deep in her gut. She was struck with an almost violent sense of unease, and her eyes stayed glued to the drops of blood that soaked into the concrete.

The air felt thick and even colder than before.

Sunshine watched as the group of teens, minus Barb, returned to their conversation as if nothing had happened. Turning her head, she peered out into the darkness toward the woods.

The bottoms of her feet still stung with cuts from running, and her body still ached. All of that pain collided with a feeling of dread that only increased when she gazed into the woods.

She wanted to believe it all was just an overwhelming feeling of guilt. Guilt over not finding her sister and splitting up with her in the first place. But, that little voice in the back of her head warned her that it was something more.

There was something out there.

A dual set of screams rang out within a colorless bedroom. A young number Seven fell against the floor with a strangled gasp before she scrambled backward until her back hit the wall on the opposite side of the room from an even younger boy.

The boy’s eyes were glassed over, foggy and unfocused, and a line of blood dripped down from his nose. Ivy jumped down from the bed she sat on, observing, and kneeled beside Seven. She placed her cold fingers on the little girl’s shoulders and stared at the crescent-shaped nail marks felt behind on Seven’s forearm, deep enough to draw blood.

The air was thick and buzzed with unnatural static that caused the hair on all three children's arms to stand on end.

Ivy let go of Seven and slowly crossed the room to where the youngest of the three sat. The boy held his legs close to his chest and let tears dot his pale cheeks, but he bit down hard on his lower lip to stifle his cries.

“What did you see?” Ivy asked calmly, as to not frighten the boy any further than he already was. His chin trembled as his eyes cleared and returned to their natural, unhazy gray. “Tell us what you saw, Nine.”

Nine sniffled and rested his chin on top of his knees, gaining the courage to speak. “Dark,” he whispered. There was something unnerving about the tone of his quiet voice.

“What else?” Ivy pressed.

They all knew Nine was fragile - most kids inside the Lab were despite what they were capable of - but Nine’s abilities were not to be tip-toed around. Whatever he saw when his fingernails dug into Seven’s skin was important.

“Nine, tell us what you saw.”

“Dark. The dark, so much of it,” he cried as more tears gathered in his eyes and ran down his face. There were things inside the little boy’s head that neither Two nor Seven could fathom. His head was like a hive of wasps, and each time he made contact with someone, it was like kicking the nest. It buzzed too loud inside his ears; too many blurred figures, bright flashes, all-consuming darkness, and hundreds of hushed conversations from unknown voices that he couldn’t make out.

“A-And the end.”

The sound of splashing and loud laughter drew Sunshine out of her memory. She tried to shake the image of Ivy and Nine out of her head as she looked away from the woods and onto the pool, where the teens had pushed each other into. They swam around still in their clothes with wide smiles.

Sunshine swallowed the lump in her throat and hurried from the backyard back into Steve’s house.

She felt hot and cold at the same time. Her fingers were numb, but the back of her neck beaded with sweat. She didn’t know what was happening to her, or in general. Maybe it all was inside her head, some kind of side effect of escaping the Lab and experiencing the real world. Or maybe the little boy from her memory knew something no one else did; maybe he had felt the same sense of dread she did at that very moment.

There was something wrong about Hawkins; it was like the rancid air of the Lab leaked out onto the town, and no one noticed, or they chose to ignore it. Maybe that was easier to do when you hadn’t witnessed what happened behind the white walls.

Sunshine turned down the hallway and almost collided with someone who was rounding the corner as well.

“Oh!” Barb gasped out in surprise. “Geez, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” Sunshine said, her heart racing. Her gaze dropped onto the girl’s hand, which was wrapped in a red-stained bandage. “Is your hand okay?”

Barb nodded. “Yeah. It’s just a little cut, but I guess that’s what I get.” She let out a small, almost bitter laugh that punctuated the end of her sentence. Barb’s eyes met Sunshine’s before they shifted slightly and across her face, probably noting the bruises that looked a little worse in the brighter lightening of Steve’s house than compared to outside. “Are you okay?”

With a tight-lipped smile, Sunshine replied, “Yes. I just…I needed, uh-” Her words came out clunky and she didn’t really know what she was trying to say, but Barb seemed to know or guessed that she did.

“You need a break from the happy couples out there?” Barb said.

To Barb, it seemed like she and Sunshine shared something in common like they were on the same page. What they supposedly were on the same page about, Sunshine had no clue.

“Tell me about it,” Barb huffed. “You’re just lucky you don’t have to go to school with them.”

There was a sadness that Sunshine saw behind the teen’s eyes, but it was a kind of sadness that confused her. The two girls that stood face to face in the hall lived very different lives, but Sunshine pretended to understand, and just for a moment, Barb believed that Steve’s friend Stella understood just how she felt. For a moment, Barb believed that Sunshine understood something as mundane as teenage drama.

“Hey, Barb. Can you talk for a sec?” Nancy’s voice came from somewhere behind Sunshine and it was followed by more chatter and footsteps. The group all entered the home in their soaked clothes.

Barb’s shoulders slumped slightly before she slipped past Sunshine and disappeared around the corner to speak with her friend Nancy.

Steve’s other two friends, Tommy and Carol wandered into the kitchen, which only left Steve. He had a towel draped over his shoulders and his hair felt flat against his head. The carefree and happy look on his face faltered when he met Sunshine’s gaze, who still stood in the hall with her face paled and muscles tense.

“Everything all right?” he asked, walking toward her.

She wasn’t sure she had an answer to that, not one that could explain just how she felt. Every emotion she experienced felt out of place inside her head. She was so used to pushing all of those feelings down, but they refused to stay put and all rose to the surface at once.

With a quiet sigh, she replied with a simple, “Yes.”

Steve didn’t look too convinced of her answer, but it was clear that his attention was elsewhere. He wiped a few drops of water from his cheek and gestured down the hall. “There are clean pajamas in the laundry room, and my mom always keeps the bathroom down there stocked with stuff, if you want to shower or anything,” he said. “And there are still blankets and pillows on the couch, okay?”

Sunshine nodded, and Steve took that as his cue to return to his friends.

After grabbing a change of clothes, she locked herself in the bathroom.

Warm water worked to soothe her tense muscles just slightly, and she tried to focus on the shower itself instead of the tangled web of thoughts inside her head. She scrubbed her skin until it was raw, making sure that any trace of the woods or the Lab was washed down the drain. She even rubbed her tattoo in a fruitless attempt to erase that identity completely, but it’d never leave.

“The end.”

Over the running water, Nine’s words still sounded in her ears. They stirred up a cold, hopeless feeling deep inside her chest, snaking around her heart and squeezing it tight. She had tried to ask him what he meant, what he saw, but she never got the answer. All she knew was that Nine saw something when his fingers dug into her arm, showing him her future.

That, among many other things, were answers Sunshine would never get.

She wouldn’t be the only one who wouldn’t get the answers they deserved either.

Blood ran down the drain of the tub from a cut that Sunshine accidentally reopened on the palm of her hand. Outside, another drop of blood fell into the swimming pool. It hit the blue surface and mixed with the stench of chlorine, and yet another mystery unraveled in Hawkins.

Tagged → @thearcher-winchester-version @suniloli

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