#did vecna die

[ickypuppi3]

i love billy and i want him to be happy and human but at the same time i also think he deserves to come back as some sort of eldritch horror and just fuck shit up

[strawberrybyers]

now do i believe that because will was kept alive and still has a connection with the mindflayer that there’s a chance he will be used as a pawn like in s2 but more intensely and could be viewed as a “villain”? well, yes. i think the chance a character who is still connected with the villain for a reason we don’t know has a very high possibility of “playing both sides”. remember mike said will can be like a spy?? a spy can play the role of the enemy but not to help the enemy but to create an illusion in order to fully dismantle the enemy’s plans.

now do i think the show will end with will dead or being taken by the upside down to be doomed to an eternity of evilness? um, no. i don’t think will will be a villain in a way that most are thinking. the mindflayer has had a plan with will and there’s a reason for it, but i don’t believe for a second that the show will end with will dying or that he’ll become fully evil. i believe it’s like a harry potter and voldemort situation. voldemort had different horcruxes and harry was one of them. voldemort tried to kill harry, but it didn’t work so harry pretended to be dead in order to fight voldemort and kill him which killed the bond that they had. i think it’s going to be a very similar thing between the mindflayer and will.

[bylertruther]

society if the duffers had gone through with their original plan to have mike go to the upside down in s1 to find will

[pennywises]

Jamie Campbell Bower as 001 → Stranger Things S4E7: The Massacre at Hawkins Lab.  

[henrysglock]

Okay okay okay hold up. I hate Henry as much as the next guy, but I thought we were all on the same page about one thing.

Henry Creel is a tragic villain, and you should be able to recognize his humanity before the Hawkins Lab Massacre.

Like...the point of showing that he was abused by both his family and the lab was supposed to give us a cause and effect for why he is the way he is, like they did with Billy's backstory. It showed us that there was a good long time when he was still within reach, when he was a boy who was suffering and no one came to save him.

Monsters are created, not born. There's no child that's born evil. Hatred is a learned behavior. There's a clear cause and effect, and that's important to the narrative surrounding Will and Henry.

The combined lack of love, support, and safety leads to the monstrous man we see in s4. The lack of those things is what makes him into Will's narrative foil.

Will had a strong support network that loved him and did their damndest to keep him safe, so we see someone warm and loving and relatively not jaded. Henry was constantly abused and imprisoned with no one to protect him, so we see someone cold and bitter and filled with hatred. Narrative foils.

Granted, Henry may have been predisposed to acts of violence as a child, but what makes him a monster is what he chooses to do as an independent man after he's granted the ability to free himself from his abuser. It's his actions and choices after that point that label him as a monster.

If he'd left the lab and disappeared after El removed Soteria, he'd be a neutral character. If he'd freed El too, after she removed Soteria, he might even be a tragic minor protagonist.

Henry Creel is a monster, of course. No one is saying he can or should be saved now. What's important to remember is that there was a time when he could have and should have been saved.

If you can't see that then you're missing the whole point of that narrative. His backstory, like Billy's, should inspire at least a touch of empathy/sympathy.

On a related note, there's an important distinction and continuum:

Will/Billy/Henry vs Hero/Anti-Hero/Villain

Will is a Hero and a victim. He was abused, and chose to destroy the cycle of abuse by being a loving friend, brother, and son.

Billy is an Anti-Hero, and he's irredeemable (not by the fact that he couldn't have changed but because he wasn't given the chance). We see that maybe, possibly, he could have become better. When shown compassion, he fought the Mindflayer and sacrificed himself to save everyone. It doesn't excuse anything he's done, but it shows us that had he been given a chance to escape his abusive situation and experience some perspective-altering events...He could have turned it around. He was 18, he still had an entire life in front of him. He may have been able to turn it around, but we'll never know, so based on the final narrative he's earned the label of irredeemable Anti-Hero.

Henry is a Villain and a monster. This is because he was given the opportunity to escape the cycle of abuse and instead chose to perpetuate it. He had a chance, after El removed Soteria, to kill Brenner and escape. He chose not to, instead murdering all the children in the lab, harming El, and going on to harm Will (plus the other victims). He lost his chance at redemption when he chose not to end the cycle of abuse. He became a Villain when he perpetuated it (the two were simultaneous in this case).

That's our Will/Billy/Henry continuum. Hero/Anti-Hero/Villain. Good/Mixture/Evil. All of them suffered abuse, and for each of them love and compassion were deciding factors in their response.

Will, shown continual love and compassion: Hero

Billy, only shown compassion immediately before death: Irredeemable Anti-Hero

Henry, never shown love or compassion: Villain.

It's a clear gradient.

That's the message of that narrative: Love saves people.

[nataliescatorccio]

i’ve got to say this because it’s been driving me up the wall: yes eddie deserved a better death. if they were going to do what they did, he should have gone out in a bigger way. and we deserved to see more people mourn him than just dustin. but please stop saying he didn’t die saving anyone. eddie was crucial to the plan. he could have climbed the bedsheet and escaped the upside down, but he knew if he did, the bats would go and attack steve, robin and nancy and the entire plan would fall apart. if that had happened, they would not have been able to get to vecna and succeed in burning his body (which along with el, played a major part in his ‘downfall’). eddie was as important as any other character in that moment. he stood and he fought so that the plan would work. so that the others could get out alive. he didn’t save anyone? no. he saved his friends. it’s because of him that they get to stand and fight another day.

[c4ts4ndstuff]

i feel like i'm missing something, some symbolism in the DnD/Basketball game scene in the first episode of S4 Stranger Things. it just feels like there's more to that scene, but i can't figure it out

[httpmedxsa]

If I don't watch it, it didn't happen. (Stranger Things vol2)

[mabelmidnight-takeover]

i have a lot of complaints about vol.2 actually

[hairmetal666]

Steve knows he falls in love too easily. Nancy told him, Robin too.

But falling in love with Eddie Munson is hard.

They're supposed to be friends after Vecna. They're supposed to be friends, but Steve can't get past what Eddie did in the Upside Down; how he put himself in a position to nearly die, how Dustin got hurt. It's not fair. He knows it's not, but it doesn't make the anger go away.

Eddie's part of the group now, though, and Steve won't leave him out, no matter how angry. They're all at movie nights, at pool parties, at Hellfire, at Corroded Coffin gigs. It's just that Steve and Eddie don't speak. And Steve is okay with it. If it's what it takes to make sure that they're all hanging out together, not talking to Eddie is a small thing. He's pretty sure Eddie doesn't mind. At least, he seems as uninterested in hanging out with Steve as Steve is with him.

It doesn't need to be anything more than that, and it isn't, not until Steve goes upstairs to get more sunscreen during one of the pool parties, and walks back downstairs to find Munson waiting for him in his kitchen.

"You need something?" He asks, unable to fully hide the way he jolts with surprise.

Eddie twists the rings on his fingers, something Steve's noticed he does whenever he's nervous. "You have a problem with me, Harrington?

"No, of course not," he answers too fast.

"C'mon, man. You can barely stand to be in the same room with me."

"That's not true! We're in one together right now."

Eddie rolls his eyes so hard that it has to hurt. "Don't do that. Don't pretend like you don't know what I mean. You can't stand to be alone with me for more than thirty seconds."

Steve splutters, searching for a plausible reason.

"Is it cause--" Eddie swallows, hand going back to cup his neck. "Is it cause you heard me tell Robin that I'm gay? Back at the hospital. Is it because--" he cuts himself off.

Something in Steve's chest clenches hard, warmth swooping dangerously in his stomach. "No," Steve says, means it. "I didn't hear. I didn't-- it has nothing to do with that. It's--that's cool. Thanks for--yeah, that's cool."

Eddie's smile is a brittle little thing. "Then, what else?" Eddie pulls a chunk of hair over his mouth. "I can't think of any other reason you'd hate me so much."

"I don't." And Steve hopes it's coming off as genuine. "I promise."

He can't help remember the camaraderie, the understanding, that started to grow between them in the Upside Down. The "don't cha, big boy?" of it all. They could be friends. They should be.

They shouldn't get into it. Not right here, not right now when the kids' splashes and excited screams filter through the sliding door.

"You're a shit liar, Harrington."

"Ed--I'm not--"

"You know what? Don't bother. I'll just--" He jolts in the direction of the front door.

"Don't be stupid, Munson."

"God, I can't believe I didn't see it before. You just fucking loathe me."

"I do not. Grow up."

"Oh, yeah? Then what's your problem?"

"There isn't--"

"Stop lying!"

"You didn't fucking think!" He shouts. Loud enough that the noise outside cuts off. "You pulled that shit in the Upside Down and you almost died! Dustin got hurt!"

Eddie blinks his big brown eyes in stunned surprise.

"I told you, I said, 'dont try to be cute or be a hero or something.' And you know what you said? Do you?"

Eddie won't look at him now. "I had to make a choice, Steve."

"It was the wrong one!"

"I would do it all again. No matter what you say. I would do it to draw the bats away. To protect Dustin."

"But you didn't."

"There was no other way to stop them, Steve! They would've gotten through, into Hawkins."

"It doesn't matter."

"You weren't there! You can't tell me--"

"Yes, I can! I know."

"You don't! You think--"

"I almost lost you!" He screams. "You nearly died in my arms, Eddie. And for what?"

Falling in love with Eddie wasn't easy. It was blood and near death; it was weeks in a cold hospital room while Eddie existed in a drug-induced twilight state; it was agonizing convalescence and physical therapy and changing bandages; it was Eddie leading dnd sessions with bright eyes and contagious enthusiasm, herding the kids to the arcade and video store, theatrically serving snacks at movie night; it was festering, senseless anger at the near loss of something.

Eddie's lips tremble. "Steve, I--"

"It doesn't matter." He turns away to slide a hand down his face in an effort to wipe away the emotion. "You're fine and we're--it doesn't matter."

"I'm sorry," he whispers. "Steve, I'm sorry. I wanted--I thought it would help. I thought--"

And Steve has to admit, he does, the whole terrible contradiction of it all. "I know," he whispers back. "I would've--I know."

"I thought I was protecting Dustin. I thought I was buying you guys time with Vecna." Eddie's voice breaks. "I didn't--I--" He squeezes his eyes shut.

In the quiet of the kitchen, they gravitate to one another, foreheads resting together.

"I should have been there, Ed. I shouldn't have left you two alone. You almost died, and I--"

"Sweetheart, I'm right here. We're right here."

They don't kiss, but they're close enough that their mouths brush with each breath they take.

"Don't do that, again." Steve clenches his fists into Eddie's cutoff t-shirt. "Promise you won't ever--"

"I promise, Stevie. I promise. I'll be by your side until the very end, whatever it is."

[queenimmadolla]

why do I have to see Murray’s balding ass???? according to the duffers and stranger things writing process, he’s served his purpose—should’ve been gone after S3 if not S2 so why do I have to see him over and over again? why did this fucker get a call so he can keep pointing out the obvious?

they’ll keep the raging z*onist but not Kali (Eleven’s sister character who was meant to just be edgy but brought so much depth to herself AND El, 008, test subject with fucking powers that would be beneficial in taking down Vecna) or Argyle (literal ride or die who got roped into the upside down business, was shot at with his friends, buried a dead body, drove across the country to reunite the group, is linked to the group in multiple ways, played a similar role as Robin’s in ST3 but apparently he doesn’t get to stay).

they’ll keep the ugly, old white guy who is just a companion at this point but not the POCs that go MIA after they’re used to further the plot for a white main character.

[bylertruther]

‘Stranger Things’ Matt & Ross Duffer Dish Season 4 Finale Death & Destruction & Epic Battles Ahead

[nickynclark]

I'D BE ONE NOCTURNAL SON OF A GUN

Eddie Munson x Female! Reader

Word Count: 2,748

Content warning: SMUT (18+ only below the cut), no use of (Y/N), lowkey toxic parents, harsh language, mentions of drug use (mary jane, bby), mentions of reader being on birth control, oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it before you tap it for the love of god), choking and breeding if you squint.

Summary: Your parents hate Eddie Munson, and you just can't find it in you to leave the crazy haired freak.

Authors Note: Y'all this is porn with plot. And it's my first ever smut so pls be nice to me. I'll be publishing a Spencer Reid fic soon enough ;) Love ya! - nick

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Growing up, you were a perfect child. You did ballet and took piano lessons. You ate all of your vegetables. You got straight A’s. You played nicely with the other children.

So you can imagine your parents’ reaction when their perfect little girl told them about her friendship with Eddie Munson.

“That freak?” Your mom gasped, “my god, you must be joking.”

“Are you doing drugs with him?” Your dad quickly intervened.

You sat in front of them like a kicked puppy, quietly looking at your hands as they lectured you over Eddie.

You and Eddie met your freshman year of high school in chemistry class. He wasn’t good at english or science, and you were. You would help him do his homework (aka give him your answers) and he would let you sit with his odd ball friends at lunch. To you, rumors and all, he was lovely.

You two had been best friends for a long time, despite your parents' distaste. They even decided to set you up on a date with Steve Harrington your senior year: a sad attempt to separate you and Eddie.

It only lasted a week or two, and when you explained the situation to Steve, he understood. He was kind and promised to never let your parents know you even broke up.

“I could tell,” Steve said on your last date, “your head is always somewhere else. No sweat.”

To your parents, you are back to their perfect daughter. But everyday after school, when your parents think you're at a study hall, you're in the little room with a group of ‘freaks’, Eddie wearing the crown.

***

Eddie displayed the table in front of him, with only two characters left standing- yourself and Vecna.

“There is nothing wrong with running, sweetheart." Eddie's tone is cocky, "You can walk away now, everything will be okay.”

You squint up at him, “when have you ever known me to run?”

Eddie just laughs, signature smirk on his lips, “then roll.”

You grab the twenty sided die, fondling it in your hand. You roll the die between your fingers, a focused look on your face.

“C'mon! Just walk away,” Mike whispered, “if you roll then you can lose. Walking away isn’t a loss.”

“Shut up, Freshy,” you smile and elbow him in the side, “you’ve only been with me through one campaign. I never run away.”

You bring the die up to your lips and blow on it, keeping eye contact with Eddie through the process. He keeps his signature smirk on his face, but his eyes are nervous.

With a final smile, the die leaves your hand, rolling across the table, clambering it’s way down.

When it stops, Eddie looks down with a smile on his face, “natural twenty, sweetheart," he looks back up to you, "that's a hit."

The group at the table erupted into cheers, Dustin laughing at Eddie while pointing aggressively.

“Well done, Princess.” Eddie smiles and sits back in his throne.

**

After all the boys clear out, it’s just you and Eddie in the Hellfire room. Eddie let his smile falter as soon as they were gone; you knew he hated to lose a campaign, but it was always a little easier on him when you were the last man standing.

You walk towards him and stand in between his spread knees, “hi,” you look down at his slumped body, “hell of a campaign, you know. I was convinced I wasn’t going to roll right, you know my luck.”

Eddie looks at you shyly, “I know, Sweetheart. But I was really expecting a loss from you guys.”

“You always are, Eds.”

He smiles and sits up a little bit, “you’re right,” then he shifts himself to lean closer to you, “how’s Harrington?”

You step back from him with a small smile, “Done. He couldn’t handle me.”

Eddie sits up all the way, smirking, “no one can, Princess,” his hands lift to rest on your hips, “except me, my Queen of Hellfire.”

You laugh, “it was my call, though. He wasn’t my guy.”

“How so?”

You step back up into him looking down at him, “he’s not tall enough, he doesn’t have enough tattoos,” Eddie begins to stand up to tower over you, “he doesn’t smoke, and, most of all,” you move your hand to his hair, his face inches away from yours, “he doesn’t have good enough curly hair.”

Eddies breath hitches in his throat, clearly nervous and excited, and, when you almost gave in, your parent’s voice came into your head.

You back up from him reluctantly “It was a great campaign, Eds.”

And you walked out of the room listening for Eddie to call for you, but he never did.

**

Two days later, your parents were at church while you stayed home. Around 10 o'clock that morning, you heard a knock on the door. You quickly pulled your hair back and went to the front door. When you opened it, you were shocked to see Eddie standing in front of you, hair disheveled, still in his flannel pajama bottoms and a crinkled white shirt, smelling of weed and a his woody cologne.

He looked down at you as if you were a stranger before speaking, “why did you do that?”

“Eddie, why did I do what?”

“Friday. After Hellfire. Why did you do that?” He reached his hand up to rest on your cheek, “did you not know what you do to me?”

You stutter out an apology, “Eds, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it would upset you-“

“Upset me?” Eddie laughed, “Sweetheart, I need to know if it was a play. Did you mean what you said?”

You look into his chocolate eyes before finally giving in, lean into his warm touch, “yes, Eddie, god, yes, I meant every word.”

And then he kissed you.

The kiss was bruising, and the entire time you couldn’t stop thinking about how bad you needed to know how he tasted, and now you knew: a beautiful mix of mint and herb.

As you pulled away panting, he rested his forehead against yours.

“My parents will kill me if they see you here,” you tell him quietly through kisses.

He picked you up bridal style, kissing your forehead and whispering “I won’t let them,” while he carries you upstairs to your room.

You planted gentle kisses to his neck until he dropped you onto your bed, leaning over you and kissing you roughly. As he kissed you, his hands found their way to your hips and yours around his neck.

“Fuck, Princess, I’ve waited for this for too damn long,” Eddie whispered into your neck where he was sucking and biting, attacking the soft skin connecting your neck and shoulder.

You started to tug on his hair, “Eds,” and he pulled up and looked at you, “you are my perfect person.”

He smiled softly and kissed your lips, hands finding your pajama shorts and slipping his pinkie underneath the band, touching more of your bare hips. Your back arched up into his grip as his rings chilled your skin, and he smirked into your kiss.

“Eddie, please,” you whine to him.

“Please what, sweetheart?”

“Anything, Eddie, please.”

Eddie looks up at you before his hands fully grip your waistband, “are you sure?”

You lift your hips, begging, “yes, Eddie, god yes, please.”

He smirked, pulling down your sleep shorts, “easy, Tiger.”

As soon as your shorts are down your legs, you are pulling off the lace thong that conceals you from him.

When he notices this, he’s sliding down to the foot of your bed, grabbing your ankles and pulling you down with him. He makes easy work of spreading your thighs, smiling as he sees your already wet pussy.

“Damn, Sweetheart, is all of this for me?” He mumbles as he moves his hand up to spread your lips, getting a better view.

You whine at the contact, “yes Eddie, all for you.”

Eddie starts to plant open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs while he slowly slides one of his ringed fingers inside of you, watching you wiggle at the sensitive contact. He starts to suck deep purple bruises onto your thighs as he inserts another finger, quickly curling and scissoring them, smiling as you moan loudly at his doing, your hands finding their way to his hair.

“Eddie, god, babe, your mouth, please,” you whine loudly, causing him to bite down on your thigh.

“You want my mouth, darling? Want my tongue?” You whimper in response, “Words, baby.”

You huff loudly, “yes, Eds, I need your mouth on me.”

He licked a thick stripe up your opening to your clit, moaning at the taste. He took your clit it into his mouth and started sucking lightly, causing you to see stars.

He continued to eat you out like his life depends on it, his fingers finding their way back inside of you, working you closer and closer to your orgasm.

He adds one more finger, stretching you out so fully arounds his three large digits, and licking and sucking so feverishly you don’t know how much longer you can last.

“Eddie, baby, fuck-“ you moan, grinding on his tongue, “I’m going to cum. Fuck, can I come? Should I even be asking you?”

Eddie laughs at you rambling, sending a vibration through your pussy up to the knot in your stomach.

He keeps working you until your thighs are shaking and trying to close around his head. He works you into a mewling mess, and only then does he pull away just enough to say, “come on my tongue, princess.”

His lips reconnect with you, working you through your high, your moans loud until you finally come to a stop.

Eddie climbs up your body, kissing you feverishly, and you taste yourself on his tongue.

“Baby, you’re so sweet. Could eat you out forever.”

You smile and kiss him, sitting up, “your turn.”

He stands up, and you sink to your knees in front of him. He watches happily as you work his pants off of him, your eyes growing at the print of him in his boxers. He was long and thick, and had a glorious spot of pre-cum on the fabric. You connect your lips to the wet spot, moaning at the salty flavor.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie placed a hand on your cheek pulling you away from him, “we can stop at any time. You don’t have to do this.”

You smile up at him from your knees, “I want to. Stop worrying.”

He looks down at you lovingly, swiping your cheek with his thumb, “then, as much as I love how it looks on you, that hellfire shirt’s got to go.”

You raise your arms as he pulls it off of you, groaning at the sight of your braless chest.

You quickly pull down his boxers, admiring the beautiful cock in front of you. It’s thick and even longer than it looked when concealed. It has a vein running along the side of it, and his tip is a pretty pink color with a bead of pre-cum leaking out of his slit.

You lean in and place a quick kiss to his tip before taking it into your mouth, sucking softly on his cock, then quickly pulling off.

“Of course your cock would be pretty too,” you smile before licking a stripe underneath him, then taking him into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat.

He moans loudly, his hands gripping your hair as you settle on a tempo, occasionally popping off to breathe or spit onto his dick.

“Sweetheart, holy hell,” Eddie moans as you look up at him as innocently as you can with a mouth stuffed with his cock, “I can’t tell if you came from, fuck, heaven or hell with that mouth. I could have had this this entire time?”

You hum around him in agreement, causing him to moan again.

After a little while of constant sucking, a sore jaw, and hands gripping his thighs, he stills your head and begins fucking your face.

You gag around him at the intrusion, then you settle into the pace, meeting him half way.

“Fuck, darling, I won’t last. Sweetheart, god fuck-“ he pulls away from me before he’s able to finish.

“Why’d you-“

He smiles, “ I want to cum inside you for our first time,” he rushes over to his pants and feels the pocket, “shit. I left my wallet at home, do you have condoms?”

You shake your head quietly.

He sighs, “it’s okay, I’ll just-“

“I'm on the pill.”

He smiles, “you sure?” And you nod.

As he climbs on top of you, with a panicked look, he starts, “you promise this isn’t some weird way of getting child support out of me? ‘Cause selling weed doesn’t exactly pay the-“

You laugh loudly, “Hey, Eddie?”

“Hey, baby?”

You look at him with doe eyes, “wanna fuck me?”

He groans loudly, “God, I thought you’d never ask.”

He climbed on top of you, spreading your legs apart and lining his dick up with your slick hole, “you ready, sweetheart?”

You smile softly, “yes, please.”

As soon as you feel the tip of him slip inside of you, a loud moan leaves your lips, your eyes widening and your hands gripping Eddies back.

He rests his head on your shoulder, leaving soft kisses on your neck, “I know baby, I know. Tell me if it’s too much.”

He slowly pushes in further until he’s all the way inside of you, then he stills to allow you to adjust to his size.

His teeth sink into the skin of your neck as he grunts, "you're so tight, Baby."

You whimper at the praise, “God, Eddie, move, please god, fuck me.”

He didn't need any more convincing. His hips suddenly snap in and out of you with fever. The sound of skin hitting skin and your moans mixing together fills your small room.

Eddie bites and sucks on your chest, moaning at the sensation, “fuck, princess, 's like you were made for me. Can’t wait to ruin this sweet pussy of yours.”

As Eddie keeps talking, fucking you harder and faster, your head is spinning with ecstasy, moans slipping out of your mouth faster than you can stop them, until, quickly, Eddie pushes one of your knees to your chest, pushing himself even deeper inside of you.

“Fuck, Eds. Right there, baby! Shit!”

Eddie moves one of his hands to your throat, pounding into you rapidly, showing no mercy to your body.

“Eds, fuck! I’m gunna cum, can I please fucking cum?” Your moans echo around the small room.

Eddie holds onto you tightly, his thrusts becoming sloppy and irregular, “hang on, sweetheart, I’m almost there,” he thrusts quickly, “where do you want it?”

You drag your nails down his back, “inside me.”

“Are you sure?”

You moan, “yes! Eddie, please! Fill me up with your cum, please!”

He groans and thrusted once or twice more, “cum, baby, cum with me.”

The knot that built in your stomach untied as you felt hot spurts of cum filling you up. You let out loud whimpers of ecstasy while Eddie rocked you through it, whispering sweet praises into your ear.

As you finished, he rolled off of you, laying next to you on your bed.

“Wow.”

You giggle in agreement, “definitely wow.”

Suddenly, the front door slams open, “honey, we’re home!”

Your mom shouts through the house, causing you and Eddie to scramble getting dressed.

Your mom walked in just as you both got clothed, sitting on the bed with a magazine and him messing with his guitar pick necklace.

“Hi,” you say gently, as if Eddies cum wasn’t leaking out of you onto your light pink bed spread beneath you.

“Honey," her tone is sickly sweet, "what is he doing here?” She smiled tightly.

“Oh, him?” You point to Eddie, “we’re just hanging out. He is my boyfriend you know.”

Eddie looks at you shocked before a smirk settles on his kiss swollen lips, and he reaches out to hold your hand.

Your mom looks at you, her smile now a glare.

“You can either leave this man, or never see the light of day again.”

Eddie stood up and grabbed his shoes, preparing to leave. His lips sat in a frown.

He thought this was over.

“Hey babe?” You grab his arm.

“Huh?” He looked at you confused.

You give him a quick kiss and your mom gasps, “I’ll see you at sunset.”

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Taglist: @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @deadbolted

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[lovebugism]

congrats on one year of your blog!!

for your one year celebration, could you write something with the prompt

“you showed up at my door of all place?”

“trust me it wasn’t my first choice either.”

with steve perhaps? maybe he’s injured (because when isn’t he) and has no one else to turn to but the reader??

tysm lovie! hope you like it :D — steve seeks comfort in you, his rival since high school, a week after fighting vecna (enemies in love, hurt/comfort, post st4, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Steve’s stitches start weeping a week after the brawl with Vecna — the ones you’d sewn along his ribcage when a gang of demobats made a feast of him. 

He’s gotten so numb to the pain (the constant, never-ending, three years of nonstop pain) that he doesn’t realize his wound has torn open again. Not until his shirt starts sticking abnormally wet to his skin. He looks down, notices the dark red patch blooming on the gray fabric, and then feels the distant stinging of the week-old bite.

Most of them have healed or are starting to. They’ve turned pink and marred over, unlikely to fade. But there’s one gash that refuses to mend, and he’s starting to think it might be some kind of bad omen. Like the constantly knicked sutures are some kind of prophetic telling of an undone fight and not just a consequence of his restlessness.

He thinks of you first, anyhow. Before a solution or a way to dull the pain. He thinks of you and your gentle hands and how you were the only person he’d let touch him after coming back from the Upside Down. 

Steve drives to Forest Hills and ascends the rickety porch of your trailer even though he knows it’s 2 a.m. He knocks at the paint-chipped entrance even though he knows Eddie only lives four doors down. Max lives across the way from Eddie, and he knows that, too. He could go just about anywhere, he figures, but he’s here — on the steps of the girl who couldn’t stand him in high school.

You answer the door much quicker than he anticipated. Ten seconds after he knocks, you stand before him with wet hair and no pants. The damp strands drip onto the oversized shirt you wear. The sleeves of the old thing hang low off your arms, the hem of it falling just above your knees.

You don’t look sleepy despite the early hours of the morning. Tired, maybe, but not sleepy. “Steve?” you say, so suddenly alert at the sight of him. Your eyes, lined with a sleep you haven’t gotten in days, go wide with distant horror. “What happened? Are you okay? Did someone die?”

You ask him all this before he’s said a single word. Good questions when you live in a town like this one, when you’ve seen the things you’ve seen.

“Nothing. Everyone’s fine,” Steve answers in a monotone, still gripping his side with his opposite hand. “My stitches just ripped.”

You blink rapidly at him, trying to clear the daze of exhaustion and the subtle shock of seeing him. “Stitches— What?”

He pulls back his hand, the palm of it now blotched pink. There’s one large circle of deep brown blood staining his shirt and two more tiny patches just below it. “I’m bleeding,” he tells you, as if it isn’t obvious now. “My stitches pulled.”

Your gaping gaze flits from his freshly opened wound to the annoyed look on his chiseled face. His pale features glow amber beneath the buzzing porch light. “And you showed up to my door, of all places?”

“Trust me. It wasn’t my first choice either.” He clutches his side again and slides past you in the doorway, walking into your trailer, mostly uninvited. 

He knows your parents aren’t around. It’s the only thing you’ve ever been able to bond over. You grew up mostly alone and learned to raise yourselves accordingly. So it’s not totally surprising to find your trailer dripping with girlhood — tiny trinkets, movie posters, half-alive plants, and vibrant colors. More of a home than his empty mansion ever was.

“Why don’t you just go to the E.R.?” you ask and shut the door behind you. You have to lean your body weight against it and press really hard — or else it won’t close fully, and the wind kicks it open while you’re sleeping, and you wake up to a family of raccoons ravaging the candy bowl on your coffee table.

Steve huffs and sits on your grass-green couch, face scrunching at the distant stinging along his ribcage. “Because I don’t know how to tell people that potentially rabid demobats took a pound of flesh outta me,” he sasses.

You shake your head. “If you get blood on my sofa, Harrington, I swear to god…” you mumble and sit down beside him. 

You lift the hem of his shirt to assess the damage, knuckles skimming warm along his golden side.

Most of the bites scattered along his ribs are healing now. They’re small and shallow and turning slowly pink instead of scarlet red. But there’s one still pulsing crimson, the only one deep enough to need stitches. The only one refusing to heal. 

The sight of the raw, throbbing wound makes your stomach writhe. You remember pulling the stubborn demobat off of him by its tail. You feel the sting of his pain even now, like it’s your own.

Steve watches your face the whole time. He decides to base his pain on how you look at him, whether you shrug it off or grimace in disgust. You do neither. Your eyes dart over his skin, glimmering with concentration, as your fingers brush his aching side with a gentleness he didn’t think was possible.

His brows pinch at your lack of response. He tilts his chin to his chest and ducks his gaze to look at you, honey eyes eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Is it bad?”

“Well… It’s not good,” you conclude after a few moments.

“That’s such a non-answer,” he scoffs, dropping his head to the back of the couch to watch you walk into the kitchen. 

You disappear behind a wall for a few moments. The distant clattering of something, muffled as you dig inside cabinets, fills the empty trailer. 

You’re back in thirty seconds, tops, with the first aid kit you’ve been a stickler about keeping restocked. ‘Cause Steve isn’t your first patient since coming back home. He’s not your second, either. 

It was Eddie first, for his own demobat bites, and then Lucas when the cut along his swollen cheek split open again.

You’re not cut out for any of it. Not professionally, anyway. You only know how to do sutures because of Mr. Mundy’s ninth-grade health class.

You return to Steve’s side and begin to clean up the bite, lest an infection spread and Vecna take him out from beyond the grave. 

The burn of the alcohol makes him wince. “Ow,” Steve whispers under his breath, a subtle pout scrunching his features.

“Don’t be such a baby,” you laugh.

“I’m injured— You’re supposed to be nice to me.”

“You’ve been through three separate concussions and a thousand demobat bites. I think you can handle a little sting, Harrington.”

Steve tilts his cheek to his shoulder, squinting his twinkling eyes and flashing you a lopsided smile. “Has anyone ever told you how amazing your bedside manner is— ow!”

You start stitching him up without warning. You make it look easy despite having no real idea what you’re doing. Steve figures it’s because you’re a natural at taking care of people. Sometimes he thinks that’s the only reason all of you managed to make it out of the Upside Down in the first place.

“All done,” you murmur after you’ve knotted the last stitch.

“Thanks…” He tries to sit up again. The sting hasn’t yet left him. It’s less of a pain now, and more of a  warning — the thin sutures screaming as they threaten to snap.

“If you don’t move around so much, they won’t pull. Again.”

“Is that the rule?” he teases.

“Yeah. That’s the rule— the don’t be stupid rule.”

Steve takes a sharp breath in and rises. He’s prepared for the ache, so it burns less this time. He sees you reach for him in the corner of his eye, hands darting out to help him and then shooting down again when you decide against it. 

He wouldn’t have minded if you had. He would’ve made fun of you for it, obviously, but he wouldn’t have minded.

He’s been missing the warmth of your touch more and more since the Upside Down — back when he laid mostly limp on the arid ground of a desolate land, when you cradled his body to shield him from the bats flying overhead. 

He stopped feeling scared when you held him. He thought it was because he was dying, but now he knows it was because of you. The healing in your touch. It’s like the amber glow of streetlamps in the dead of night, or sunsets that paint the whole world pink. Being touched by you is like dancing in summer rain and running through a field of wildflowers.

“Sorry, for uh— for keeping you up,” Steve apologizes and inches towards the door.

You follow close behind him, with an urgency that borders between letting him out and keeping him in. “It’s— It’s fine,” you stammer, then laugh at yourself. “It’s not like I was sleeping anyway.”

“Really?” Steve asks, an inquisitive swirl to his scruffy features.

He turns around to face you more, his sneakers melting into the plush of your rug. Your hand gets clammy and tightens around the rusted doorknob when he looks down at you — with his eyes made of velvet and his mouth made of flower petals. His face is so hardened, but he looks at you so softly anyway.

“No,” you confess with a soft shrug. “I mean— after everything, I don’t know how anyone is. I was with Eddie earlier, and the fucker was passed out before ten.”

Steve breathes a sharp laugh through his nose. His plush lips curl into a crooked smile. “He deserves the sleep, though.”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

“And so do you.”

“I know,” you grin, equal parts bitter and genuine. “But I’m not getting any.”

“Me neither,” Steve confesses, exhaling so deep it makes his chest deflate.

The two of you linger in place for a long, long time. Both of your mouths curl to say the same things — let’s grieve together, let’s wait for the sun to rise so the nightmares will pass — but neither of you is brave enough to say them out loud.

“I’ll see you around,” Steve nods, finally.

You wrench open the door for him, pulling extra hard when it jams. “The next time you pull your stitches?” you joke, smiling like you’re not grieved to watch him walk into the empty night alone.

Steve grins like he’s not mourning, too. “Probably,” he scoffs.

Maybe before that, he hopes, healed again as he walks to his car. Maybe I’ll be brave enough soon.

[crappymixtape]

because of you • part three

PART I • PART II • PART IV • PART V // REQUEST -> @sattlersquarry ❝ an enemies to lovers fic with Steve? 💙 maybe they have to put aside their differences to fight upside down stuff and realize they actually have a lot in common 👀 • 18+ | ( 3.1k – little bit of king!steve, mostly angst with a dash of fluff, enemies to idiots in love, steve x reader )

B E C A U S E O F Y O U •  P A R T T H R E E 🎶 thick skull ( re: julien baker ), paramore ft. julien baker

❝ GOOD GIRLS DON’T CRY & GOOD GIRLS DON’T LIE & GOOD GIRLS JUSTIFY BUT I DON’T ❞

“Think she’s okay?”

“Shh!”

“What? No way she can hear us back here.”

“Dustin, ‘back here’ is literally a seat behind her.”

Sat quietly at a table seat in the Winnebago, Eddie looking on worriedly across from you, you were still grappling with the fact that you were alive. That you didn’t die. That you were breathing fresh air and free from the dark and free from Him.

For now.

And as the RV bumped down the road out of Hawkins you said nothing. Felt Steve’s eyes on you constantly as he glanced at you in the rearview. Eddie’s hand still holding tight to yours after he helped you up, afraid to lose you again. Dustin and Lucas and Max all talking in not-so-hushed voices behind you about what it all meant and if El could get back in time and was this all gonna be enough?

Voice thick and choked by the sobs that had felt endless, you’d managed to tell everyone what Vecna had showed you. Told them about Hawkins, about the monsters, about your family, about them. Eddie, Robin, Nancy Steve. And no one had said anything at first. The sounds of your cries filling up the RV. Stark against the silence and heavy with the weight of your words and they knew before you’d even opened your mouth that it was going to be bad.

Of course they knew.

But now that Vecna had revealed his master plan, the efforts you were all making just felt hopeless. The munitions stuffed under the bench seats and closets and cabinets, all puny and worthless against Vecna and his army of nightmares.

A big bump in the road brought you out of your thoughts and when you glanced up your eyes met Steve’s as he snuck another look in the rear view. And instead of glaring, instead of flipping him the bird, you looked right back. Held his gaze for moment longer and he didn’t shy away until he came up on a turn-off.

“Alright, shitheads. We’re here.”

“Here?” Lucas asked, more than confused at the thick forest Steve was now driving you all through.

“Yeah, this is it.”

And as the trees slowly thinned out, thick grass and wildflower blooms took their place. Creeping out ahead of you to reveal a meadow, wide and green and lush. A haven that felt so very far away, felt safe, and as Steve parked and the engine quieted you let out the breath you’d been holding.

❝ MAYBE IF YOU JUST GOT SOME GUTS WE’D KILL ‘EM WITH A THOUSAND CUTS AND SAY WE DID IT OUT OF LOVE ❞

Everyone piled out of the RV and got after their tasks. Pretended like preparing for the end of the world was totally normal and routine. Nancy and Robin sawing off the end of a shotgun. Lucas and Erica attempting to make spears from tactical knives and broom handles. Eddie and Dustin shoving each other around in the grass with their garbage can lids full of nails at their feet and none of it instilled you with confidence, but Dustin screaming No wedgies! did manage to pull a little smile out of you.

And for a split second it felt okay.

Laughter, the sound of birds, the feeling of the wind on your bare skin and all the green around you – so unlike the cracked and bitter feeling in the Upside Down and then your smile fell.

You wished He hadn’t shown you.

Wished Vecna had just left you alone. Wished for just a moment that you hadn’t gone to Max’s trailer and put yourself in the middle of all this, but then Eddie grabbed Dustin in a big bear hug and your chest squeezed.

Your best friend.

The reason why you had gone to Max’s trailer.

The reason why you weren’t going to run.

The reason this was all worth it.

“Ah, shit.”

Sat next to you, Steve sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. The funnel in your hands slipping as you lost focus and liquid trickled down your hands and wrists.

“Hold it still,” Steve quickly tipped back his can of kerosene and set it down to grab a piece of ripped towel.

A string of curses were muttered under your breath, so much for homemade molotov cocktails.

Cheeks burning with embarrassment you went to wipe your hands on your sweater, but when you looked back up at Steve he was looking too. Eyes searching yours, unsure and tentative. Moles dotting along his cheeks and jaw like tiny constellations. Skin gold like it held summer and when you blinked away the haze of him, you realized he was reaching out to you.

“Here, get that off so it doesn’t burn,” he said a little softer. Cloth in one hand, he took yours in the other and wiped at the kerosene.

Oh, fell from your lips. Surprised. Unsure. Your skin buzzing where he touched you and you swallowed thick as you felt your pulse flutter against your neck.

“Uh–here, you can get the rest,” Steve said quickly, like he’d felt it too and hastily passed the cloth off to you, dropping your hand to wipe his on his jeans.

“Thanks,” you mumbled back.

It was quiet for a moment as he cleared his throat and picked up his can of kerosene again. You followed suit and grabbed your empty vodka bottle and funnel. Wordlessly he leaned over to hold your hand in his and once it was steady began pouring again, eyes flicking over to look at you.

“I’m an asshole,” he suddenly admitted, breaking the silence, and you had to focus really hard to not fumble the bottle again.

“I didn’t say it,” you started and he chuckled under his breath. A low, warm thing that made the air around you fizzle and crack like bonfires down at the quarry.

“Didn’t say you did,” he gently pushed back, lips still tugged up into a small, wry smile, but it faded the longer he looked at you. “Listen. I know we aren’t…well, I know I don’t have a great track record,” he said and the change in his tone surprised you. Told you he was serious and you had to look away to try to gather yourself back up again.

"No, really?" you said, all sarcasm, and he huffed another laugh.

“Hah hah,” he joked, weakly at first, and then his expression shifted more serious. “I just wanted to say that…well, that you have every right to be here it’s just–” the boy hummed around his words. Dropped his gaze down to where your hands met on the kerosene filled vodka bottle and put the can on the ground.

Talking to you like this, showing weakness and vulnerability, made him feel so exposed. Uncomfortable. Unable to find the right words and his tongue jammed into his cheek as he tried to decide just how honest he wanted to be.

With you.

“It’s just–everything about the Upside Down wants to kill you and it’s like–” he sighed heavy and carded a hand through his already messy hair. “I dunno. How many more people have to die? You know?” and then he was looking at you again. Really looking, really asking, and for a second it made you doubt everything you felt about him.

Jock. Asshole. King Steve.

No second chances, remember?

“Can I ask you something?” you heard yourself say and you could feel the muddled mixture of nerves and frustration and anticipation buzzing under your skin. Everything you’d been holding onto all this time pent up and pushing against the wall you’d built around it. Waiting waiting waiting for you to set it loose.

“Oh–sure, yeah.”

“Why are you really here?”

Steve’s eyes grew wide and he sat back on his milk crate, hands squeezing at the tops of his thighs.

“Why am I here?”

“Yeah. Do you really care about Eddie?”

Steve’s eyes darted back over to where Eddie and Dustin were hammering more nails into their garbage can lids and maybe you were impatient or maybe Steve was stalling, but you didn’t want to wait.

“Cos you didn’t care about him before.”

“B-before? I don’t–what d'you mean–”

Steve was stumbling over himself now, struggling to own the words you put on him and frustration grew warm in your chest, but you tried hard to swallow it down. Tried hard to let him prove Eddie’s theory of change.

“High school, Harrington,” you started, trying to keep your tone even and calm. “Yelled at us in the quad? Tossed people’s books in the hallway? Threw fries at us in the cafeteria.” You paused, debated whether or not you wanted to tack more on, and then you thought of Tommy and it came out all on its own, “Let your friends say really shitty things to me.”

Steve’s gaze dropped down to his feet and he didn’t say anything at first, not a word, and you kicked yourself for even bothering to think he’d be able to handle it. Of course he couldn’t.

“You know what–nevermind,” you mumbled, capping your bottle and moving to stand, but his hand grabbed yours and pulled you back down onto your milk crate.

“Wait. Please?”

And the way he was looking at you was pained, the pinch between his brows deep, and it made you pause. Was Eddie right? The way Steve cared for these kids, for your best friend, showed clearly something had shifted in him, but was it enough?

“Wait for what, Harrington? So you can show me things are different now?” your voice was softer, but hurt, “Because Eddie swears you’ve changed, but you still sound just like Tommy.”

The mention of his ex-best friend felt like getting the wind knocked out of him. He knew Tommy was wrong now. Hell, he knew it back then too. Knew how fucked up it'd been in the parking lot at the school, but he hadn’t had the guts to say anything. Couldn’t stand up to him or tell him off because he ‘had a reputation to uphold’ and what would everyone else say if he went ‘soft on a freak’?

“I–I know. I fucked up. I get it and I don’t know how I can prove it to you, but–” he started truthfully, hand still holding yours, thumb shifting softly against your palm, “–but I am. Really sorry.”

Really sorry.

Finally. After all those years. After everything he’d said and done, but sorry didn’t fix it. Or take any of it back. Was it too late?

Reluctantly you pulled your hand away from Steve’s, his fingers flexing as they fell away from yours, wanting to hold on just a little bit longer but you weren’t ready.

“You know that doesn’t fix it, right?” you said quietly, glancing up at Steve through the long sweep of your lashes and guilt settled heavy over him.

He knew it didn’t fix it. Knew all too well that words didn’t mean shit, but he would be the first to admit he was a slow learner. Crawl before you walk. Hit your head and maybe something will suddenly make sense and when it came to you? Vecna had been like a sucker punch.

You were strong-willed. Didn’t take shit lying down. Were fiercely loyal to your best friend and just wanted to try to help and it had taken Steve a minute to realize – in your eyes he was still bullshit, but he didn’t want to be. It wasn’t going to be easy, not in the least, but just like you he wanted to try.

“I know it doesn’t fix it.”

His eyes squeezed shut so he didn’t have to look at you. Tried to make it easier on himself as he pushed through the discomfort of taking responsibility for his actions. Tongue running along his bottom lip, just like it always did when his brain was working overtime, he finally looked back up at you.

“I’m not asking you for forgiveness or–or to be my friend or anything. I just want you know I really am sorry. For all of it. Okay?”

Sitting there so close to him, your hands inches away from touching, holding each other’s gaze as you listened to the words falling from his lips in sincerity – it was almost too much. The wall you’d built around yourself cracking and straining against this new feeling that had settled in your chest, but the words wouldn’t come to you as your lips parted and you tried and pull yourself together but–

“Dammit, Eddie, no wedgies!”

Dustin’s voice cut through the silence that had settled and Steve reflexively sat up. Pushed himself away from whatever it was you’d waded into together. Away from sorry and the feeling of your hands pressed together and the look you gave him through the long sweep of your lashes and the way you made his heart race. Turned away from you and played it off.

“Hey! Less dicking around, more putting shit together!” he yelled at Dustin and Eddie flipped him off without looking.

“Like you’re doing anything important, big boy!” Eddie hollered back and the way it made Steve’s cheeks grow pink made your lips twitch with a smile you had to work hard to hold back.

“Shut up,” Steve muttered at Eddie, but mostly to himself, and stood from his milk crate to put your filled vodka bottle into the box with the rest.

You watched quietly as he placed the last bottle in and folded the cardboard shut. Muscles tensing and pulling taut as he worked, moving against the fabric of his shirt and you quickly looked away for fear of being caught.

Then your eye caught his nail covered bat tipped against side of the Winnebago and the threat of the Upside Down and all its nasties wrapped around you tight like a vice.

Oh.

Right.

The end of the world.

Just a few yards away Nancy pulled the trigger on her shotgun, the sound making you flinch, and it hit you like a ton of bricks – you had absolutely no clue how to defend yourself against this. Against Him. Against an army from hell. You knew how to throw a punch and knee someone in the crotch and you’d always had an arm on you from playing volleyball, but none of that had anything to do with monsters. Or guns. Or nail covered bats.

“Uhm–” came out mumbled, more sound than word, and it pulled Steve’s attention up from the box.

“What’s that?”

“Can you–er–would you maybe show me how to swing that?” you asked and it made him turn to face you, giving you his full attention.

“What?”

Your cheeks grew hot.

“That bat,” you said shifting uncomfortably on your crate, “I don’t think–I can't shoot a gun.”

Steve’s expression softened as he remembered what it'd felt like the first time he saw a demogorgon. The first time he swung that very bat into the side of a demodog. The first time this world had been exposed to him and he knew how overwhelming and absolutely crazy it all felt.

Grabbing the bat in his hand he gave you a small smile and took the few steps back over to you.

“Sure. It’s not too hard. You know, just aim and swing.”

“Just aim and swing?” your tone was flat, all skeptics, a defensive move against his kindness and it made him chuckle.

“Well, there’s probably more to it than that, but those stupid bats are thick enough when they swarm it’d be hard for anyone to miss.”

Your eyes grew wide at the thought of swarming bats and it made him laugh again, a half-grimace pulling at his features.

“Shit, sorry. Uh–here,” readjusting his grip he bent his knees a bit and dug his heel into the ground. “Just make sure you get a wide stance, yeah? Like, hip width apart? And don’t be afraid to choke up on your hold. It’ll make your swings hit harder.”

He swung the bat and the sound it made as it cut through the air made your breath catch in your throat.

“Wanna try?” the boy held the crude weapon out to you and you swallowed thick. Stood up from your own milk crate and tentatively took it from him.

It was heavy in your hands, heavier than you thought it’d be, but smooth. You did as he said and slid your hands up a little further on the handle and tried a swing, but threw yourself off balance and stumbled forward.

“Ah, that’s okay. Here, uh–” Steve stepped in behind you and placed his hands over yours on the bat, “–try again, but follow through with your hip. Your grip’s good, just don’t throw your full weight forward.”

The warmth of his chest on your back made your cheeks burn again. Made your heart race. Hammering against your ribcage as he slowly took you through the motion again.

“Then when you get to the end of the swing, follow with your hip," his voice was much quieter over your shoulder, words falling into your ear and making you dizzy as he tried so damn hard to keep his focus. Placed a hand on your waist to guide it and toed your foot forward with his shoe as he took a step. “See?”

“Yeah,” was all you could manage, the feeling of his breath on your neck trailing goosebumps across your skin and you couldn’t help it. Couldn’t help the way the closeness of him pulled your gaze and when you looked up he was looking too.

“Does that–uh–did that make sense?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper and you nodded. A small thing that barely registered and he was so close now. Close enough his nose nearly brushed your cheek, getting closer by the second and–

“Harrington! Where are those bottles? I gotta get ‘em loaded up!” Eddie yelled from the other side of the RV and the space between you shattered. Both of you stepping away as though you’d touched a hot stove and you pressed the bat into Steve’s hands.

“Should probably get ready,” you muttered and he nodded, cleared his throat and took two big steps back to set the bat down.

“Coming!” Steve called back as he scooped up the box of molotov cocktails, bottles clinking against each other as he walked away and disappeared around the corner of the RV.

King Steve turned Steve Harrington.

Steve Harrington turned something else.

Something more.

Something you thought you’d written off.

Something that held you so tightly now it made you want to run, but at the back of your mind, somewhere soft and warm, you couldn’t help wondering what might happen if you didn’t.

[ NOTE: THIS IS PART THREE OF A – POSSIBLY – FIVE PART SERIES, PART FOUR AND FIVE TO COME SOON ]

crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️

[drainedfelsh]

You bring us eddie munson who says there's no shame in running, have him DIE because he foreshadowed is own death, even though he still could've been a hero? Place TWO days later right after his death not showing idk like steve, robin, nancy being sad? steve pulling dustin away? dustin grabbing his necklace? Where is his body? How did they get back up the portal? did all of the portals close? and if max was vecna's 4th victim she should be dead? kill the MAIN CAST FOR ONCE? like holy shit it would have been sadder and much more cruel to kill off max than eddie. Or steve confessing that shit to nancy then fucking dying ig? Her sacrifice for killing vecna couldve been so WELL. AND HE'S NOT EVEN FUCKING DEAD. This show has me fucked up and confused and def not too excited for s5. Im just glad hop and joyce kissed.

btw edit ! I understand stuff abt the portals, i was a bit sadden since we only got to see dustin & wayne moment :( also jst sucks they wont like touch the main cast AT allll

new edit uhhh I dunno this lowkey cringe