#like we're in love [stancy]

[jonathanbyersphd]

Personally I don’t forgive the Duffers for:

Reigniting the love triangle 2 (3 if we’re being honest) seasons later

Making it so a reunion between the og teen trio is going to be really difficult to pull off in the narrative in s5

[love-byers]

mike's weird language when he talks about el and their relationship

part of the equation of stranger things relationships is building the relationship through emotional connection, not physical intimacy and outright saying how you feel. it's a trope in st that the couples refuse to admit their feelings for some time before getting together. "we're just friends", "she's not my girlfriend" etc etc. the denial is super endearing. and even when the couples are finally together, this doesn't change. they're literally just the same duo same friends, but they kiss sometimes. they barely even acknowledge that they're together. it's a great trope in my opinion.

so a couple years ago i was rewatching st and made a list of everytime mike said something weird. meaning, every time mike did not adhere to this formula and stood out from the rest of the couples. i made a tiktok about it too so im basically quoting that in this post. something i stressed in that video was that because we have the other couples as source material, clearly the writers are capable of not doing this. they are capable of writing a good serious relationship, but they're choosing not to with mlvn. so keep in mind, the other couples (besides maybe stancy) do not do this and mike is supposedly, according to his own words, is madly and deeply in love with her throughout all of this and knows it.

Season 3

"Romantic time with my girlfriend."

i'll cut this one some slack, it's just that if you were truly madly in love it would be more like "I'm spending time with el". but thats all he views it as, romantic time with his girlfriend. going to his girlfriends house to make out with her. romantic time with his girlfriend. not bonding with the person he loves.

"Did you think we were never gonna get girlfriends?"

mike is hyperfocused on the word girlfriend. she's not el, the person he loves, she's his girlfriend. he doesn't say "did you think we were never gonna fall in love?" and look i get he's only like 14 here but it's the fact that he later claims he was in love with her the entire time and knew it. he literally claims it was love at first sight.

get girlfriends. he got a girlfriend. he didn't fall in love.

"It's not my fault you don't like girls!"

again the hyperfixation on girls, get a girlfriend, liking girls. mike, why are you more focused on the fact that el is a girl and your girlfriend than the fact that she's el?

"You're the most important thing to me in the world."

finn's delivery of this is so.....

and the fact that el just stares at him blankly afterwards, like she did not buy that lmao

Season 4

"That's because she's my girlfriend, Will!"

it's not "that's because i love her and want to talk to her" or something like that, it's "thats because she's my girlfriend and that's what you're supposed to do when you have a girlfriend" not "because she's el and i love her". that plays into mike's whole charade in lenora, he's just doing things he thinks he's supposed to do when you have a girlfriend.

"You're a superhero!"

that has nothing to do with who el is as a person, especially at that moment because at that time, el didn't have her powers. at the time, everyone believed they were gone, she wouldn't be saving the world anymore. but mike is still saying how incredible she is because she's a superhero.

i hate dr brenner so fucking much, but he did say something i really agree with. el kept going back to the concept monsters and heros, and he says those are things of myth and fairytale. not everything is black and white. this is real life, not a made up story with clear good and evil. and ultimately that helps her accept what happened with 001. he was 100% right there.

then here comes mike talking about monsters and superheros again like WRAP IT UP YA'LL ARE TOO GROWN FOR THIS

"You're the most incredible person in the world!"

again, he says that, but doesn't say why. he just expects her to believe him. it's such a broad statement and doesn't connect to anything about el and her personality/interests/ideas.

"Maybe I should've said something, and if I would've said that thing, maybe she'd want me there with her, wherever she is."

he wishes he'd just said it so she'd be satisfied and want him there and he'd know she's okay, he doesn't wish he'd said it so el would know in her heart that he loves her. "i love you" to mike isn't a geniune confession of his feelings, it's a thing. it's a thing that you say. it's something he thinks he has to say because that's what couples do and it's what el wants. if you fell in love with someone at first sight you do not refer to an expression of your love for them as 'that thing'.

"Maybe I was worrying to much about el. . ."

i really don't know what he meant by this. if she is the most important thing to him in the whole world and is deeply in love with her, why in the mother FUCK would he be apologizing TO WILL for worrying too much about her. there wouldn't be too much worrying when you love someone that much.

"You can fly, you can move mountains I believe that."

she literally can't.

"I love you for exactly who you are. You're my superhero."

the first time i saw this i literally thought "oh thats not..."

because it's.....not. one or the other would've been....fine i guess. but the first preceding the other is just not it. i love you for exactly who you are, and that is my superhero. is that all she is to you, mike? el expresses constant worry of being a monster, a bad person. she's afraid that she's a monster with or without her powers. but dr owens said "I'm willing to bet you're one of the good ones." fucking OWENS said something more reassuring than her boyfriend and supposed love of her life, mike wheeler.

THATS NOT ROMANTIC.

[thefirstlioveyou]

"The Last Lie," as the final variation of "The First Lie," why it would be the perfect title

+ the importance of the the songs

(before anything: yes. i know. "it's literally just a song title." but obviously the song is important to the duffers if they wanted multiple versions to put in each season. this song is insight to what's not always being verbalized. the series of this song contains themes of queerness, romantic love, self-discovery, honesty and acceptance. all of it is meaningful and that includes the title pattern that's going on.)

ok so this is gonna be very much a rambling post.

but i was thinking of all the variations of "the first lie," and how the final one is most definitely gonna be for byler, or related to it in some way.

so far we've got... The First Lie (jancy) // The First I love You (mlvn s3 kiss, robin's coming out) // Being Different (Will's Monologue, 3:20-4:29)// Jopper scene S4

(yes. jopper has their own variation! you can tell by the lack of bass, extra added synths and different build up that it's a different version... i'm just not sure why it wasn't included in the soundtrack.)

i got bored and began thinking what the title would be if it were to be for byler.

i've noticed many people suggest to capitalize the 'L' in 'love' to prove that mike's love for will is something real, where as it wasn't for el.

i guess they could do that.

but... that requires them to say that phrase. and i really don't think mike and will are gonna say that to begin with, nor would i want that.

in the stranger things universe, "i love you" has only been a phrase used platonically or by failed relationships. the show really loves to depict love by actions or with other words. they enforce the theme "actions speak louder than words" with their relationships.

in real life, it's important to hear those words 'i love you.' however this is a fictional story that's crafted with precise choices to send an underlying message to the audience. so going by that this means that in this fictional world, el shouldn't need to hear mike say it. no other couple in the show had this issue other than stancy, and well.. you know how that ended up. bullshit.

mike and el had this issue because they don't love each other that way. the desire to hear it comes from none other than their codependency. they rely on each other to have some form of identity or purpose, slowly destructing who they really are in the process.

so while i understand why some may want mike to say 'i love you,' the point is he shouldn't have to say it. his actions should be enough to prove it, if we're following along the themes this narrative is trying to display.

his actions fall flat, and will continue to. although his actions ARE signs he CARES about her, their relationship has no chemistry and especially compatibility. there is no actual romantic love. just unhealthy attachment.

will feels better about himself, he feels loved as a whole, not just as mike's potential partner. mike makes him feel better for being different... but when has mike ever said anything specifically like that? he's never sat down and said, "hey, it's okay to be different." it's mike's actions that make him feel that way. mike's love for will is already being said without actually saying it, just like the other endgame ships. it's following the active theme.

and yeah it can get confusing.. because we're in the pov of will, who thinks it's unrequited... we lost mike's pov... mike's with el.. but the show is deliberately trying to make the audience (at least the heteronormative-blinded part) MISS it, so it can be a whole twist and all that and continue to enforce the theme they're going for.

and let's say the word 'love' is used, i think it'd be used in the context of a letter (ex: love, mike). i just really don't think they will make them say "i love you" if no other endgame couple has before. it disrupts the theme.

now, if not "The First I Love you," then what would be a good title?

personally, i like the idea of "The Last Lie."

why?

because mike needs to stop fucking lying to himself and denying his homosexual desire for his childhood best friend and stop pretending like that dragon poster isn't gay as fuck

no but, THINK ABOUT IT. (this is about to get severely cheesy and probably cringe inducing and i'm sorry)

imagine it. thee byler kiss scene, or whatever it ends up being (but it has to be related to them in some way). this is the moment in which mike finally confronts his truth and accepts it. he isn't bullshitting who he is anymore - being gay, his interests, his true personality.

the 'normal' boy who he tried so hard being... the 'normal' boy he risked his friendships and the love of his life just to be... the 'normal' boy that doesn't enjoy nerdy games... the 'normal' boy who he masked behind just to live a lie.

whether it's by words or a kiss, he's finally letting that lie of a boy go the moment he shares his love for will. and in those seconds of time, it's almost like a promise to himself that 'normal' boy would be the last lie he'll ever try to live again

i fucking love characters who break their own moral code. that's mike - the character that enforced telling the truth and being honest to those you care about, and still ended up being a liar all along.

and it's not even that mike's relearning "friends don't lie." no. he already gets that. we already get that. you're free to disagree here, but what i personally get from mike's overall character is that there will always be an inability to be truthful to others if you can't be truthful to yourself first. mike must live his live authentically and stay true to who he is and what defines him if he wants happiness. otherwise, the lie he digs himself into will only get bigger and bigger, and inevitably will destroy what's important to him (his relationships in this case) and himself.

all this... it already fits the themes the other song variations have been displayed in:

acceptance of a love and finally letting it in -> jancy/jopper

coming out and speaking your truth -> robin

queerness -> robin, mike, will

self-discovery -> mike

just imagine all of those themes just smashed into one title and scene. that track would carry so much meaningful weight.

Ok

maybe this post was just my secret love letter to those songs. but am i really crazy for caring about them? soundtracks in film/tv deserve more love! that little melody is clearly so important to the story, the way the titles it transitions through and what it tells us. i just think it's genuinely brilliant how they managed to do that with one instrumental. that's storytelling!!

ok i'm done now thank you kyle dixon & michael stein. ur my fave bylers

[clarkegriffins]

so, i think since s4 came out i saw maaaaaaaaaaaaaany posts saying nancy AND steve shouldn't be in a relationship, and i'm not gonna talk about that right now bc it's not my point, what is curious to me is that i never saw a post saying that jonathan shouldn't be in a relationship, and it got me thinking, does the fandom even listen to jonathan? like at all?

so in season 1 we have this scene:

which was supposed to "represent" stancy back then, even tho it's just assumptions since we never got the idea that stancy would ever be like ted and karen, they might had their problems back in season 1 and season 2 but not to the point that we think they would turn into nancy's parents, the show has been showing us how much steve loves nancy and that he would do literally anything for her, even breaking his own heart and letting her go, so no, not ted and karen at all, but i'm getting off topic let's go back to jonathan, this is what he thinks about nancy and steve's relationship, not very positive right? he scares her into thinking she's going to end up like her mom and how unhappy she will become.

and now we have this scene, present day:

now we're talking about his relationship with nancy, and oops, not very optimistic either right? this is basically what jonathan thinks of relationships, that no matter what they are always doomed, and how someone who thinks like that can be ready for a relationship? and i'm not even mentioning his thoughts about bob/joyce, his constant judgment over their relationship even tho bob was good for joyce, jonathan's beliefs about relationships are very tragic, i think not only about relationships, but life too, which leads to my second question: what can jonathan offer nancy? like really? i'm not talking about career or anything i'm talking about partnership, he's been ghosting nancy for a while now

to the point that she's considering he is cheating on her

just because he's too scared of telling her the truth, and i see people like: oh but he's protecting her bc just like he said "she would drop EVERYTHING to be with him" and i'm sorry but him assuming that she would leave her dream college for him is a bit too much for me, and it's crazy how no one talks about that, like nancy wheeler, our ambitious nancy wheeler, would literally drop her dreams just because jonathan is going to a different college? and no one from the fandom thinks it's a bit pretentious for jonathan to assume that? this is just an excuse for not telling her the truth, because if he told her the truth, it would lead him to also say what he thinks about their future together, which, in his opinion, is not a very bright future

and look at this, he also talks about kids and marriage, but for him it would end in a disaster, an unhappy marriage, just like ted and karen, totally different from what we saw in steve's dreams (a family with love, affection, who really enjoy each other's company, seeing the world with them, which, i think, it suits nancy traveling a lot since she wants to be a journalist) but this isn't about him, it's about jonathan, i see many people trying to say "oh but it's the trauma talking ok?" and yeah i could buy that, but i don't think trauma should excuse everything, so like nancy will have to spent her entire life fixing him? changing him? i think if u really want to be with someone you should fight for that, but that doesn't seem to be in jonathan's plans, right?

so again: how is he ready to be in a relationship? i think before anything jonathan should heal, this is what s5 should offer him.

[0daylighthours0]

(part 2) A Deep Dive into Milkvan and Byler's Development: If Milkvan's Destined Endgame, Why's it Written Like This???

The decision to confirm Will to be in love with MIKE is wild, and I'll tell you why.

When you add a third party to a t.v show relationship, if the first relationship isn't perfect, people gunna start rooting for the third party. Take Stancy for instance.

Throughout s2, we got the vibes that Jonathan held feelings for Nancy. This was clear. But Nancy was still with Steve. This means, in order for us not to sympathize more for Jonathan, Nancy and Steve gotta be ✧ tight ✧. I mean, their issues must be kept at a low, and at the end of the day it's gotta be clearer to us that Nancy does in fact love Steve. Welp, that wasn’t the case. Stancy's relationship ✧ struggled ✧, justifying intimate moments between Nancy and Jonathan - making us feel as if he'd be better for her after all. A smart writing choice, as Duffers intended Jancy as season 2's endgame pairing.

Now, I'd like to point out the foreshadowing of this development.

Come the wrapping up of s1, and it seemed Nancy had retreated back to Steve.

They'd clearly reconciled and - to an outsider - all would appear to be going smoothly. But us as the audience know that not to be the case.

One reason? Well, she'd just shared a suggesting moment with Jonathan.

So our minds weren't on Steve and this show of his with Nancy. Rather, we read into Nancy's slight discomfort, and wondered if perhaps she'd prefer being with Jonathan instead.

This was of course intentional. I'd like to briefly bring to attention the similarities in these moments to ones at the end of s3 - between Mike and Will, and then Mike and El.

Here a conclusion to milkvan's seasonal drama is made, them seemingly staying together, parting on good terms. Hm. And milkvan's moment is.. kinda like stancy's. They got back together because, well, El said she loves Mike. And Steve loves Nancy. And Mike loves El right? The way Nancy loved Steve- But just, coincidentally, we have byler's reconciliation too.

This came before the guy's makeup with El, because, why? This was quite the interesting decision mates. It means that whilst he spends that moment with his girlfriend, our minds are fresh off of Will. People might read into the way he's acting in contrast, just maybe, the way they did during stancy. And people did. That's a bit of a fumble on the writers' part, if you ask me. I know you're trying to let us know that Mike's now on good terms with both members, and his and El's goodbye needs to be the dramatic finishing of the season, but, man, did byler even have to make up at all here you guys? I mean this miscommunication of theirs lasts through to s4 (just like janc-). Why not sort their good terms out later or earlier on, so that we have more mindspace here to focus solely on milkvan, our main main? Or at least, why not just have Mike apologize to Will and be done with it? He could even apologize alongside Lucas, making the moment less personal. And Will could simply forgive him, give a dudely pat it out, and that's it. We wash our hands.

But nah. There's this electricity in the air. The swelling music, the prolonged looks, this doesn't.. seem like a simple make up. It's startlingly short, making us feel as if there have been things left unsaid. And that line,

".. Not possible."

It's so... implying. What do you mean? Why are you looking at eachother like that? What am I meant to get from this scene?

And it isn't a closing reconciliation either, they haven't properly ended their season's drama. I mean no one even apologized for the argument, we're just sort of left with this. Left with the hint of a story that might be further explored - their moment coming off more as anticipation for what's to come than a conclusion. Maybe just a bit like Jonathan and Nancy s1.

But so what? That does not have to mean anything romantic between them is to be told. After all, El just expressed to Mike that she loves him. This means that these sweethearts are practically fortold as endgame, right?

Alright I'll stop stalling.

Season 4.

So. Will is in love with Mike now. Huh. Well, I don't recommend this. As I said, you risk people rooting for Will beyond their hopes for Mike and El as a couple. If this is a plotline you desire, it has to be navigated with precision. So this means that milkvan must be on their A game. Struggle between them has got to be handled delicately. As we see in stancy, and as we saw in s3, just making up at the end of it all isn't good enough. You can risk this mistake once, but we must like these guys together throughout season 4, more than we sorrow for Will. Infact, Will's feelings must not be made too big of a deal. Mike and El are going to stay together, so we should feel a bit sorry for him, but not gather any hope that things will actually work out to his favour.

Like Dustin in s2. He sprouted small feelings for Max, and so did Lucas. Lumax were the endgame, so Dustin's feelings were craftly navigated and not made more important than Max and Lucas' bond. We don't really feel that Dustin is in love with Max, moreso that he likes her and has some moments of jealousy aimed at Lucas. Noone really wanted him with her more than they rooted for Lumax, though we did sympathize for him and feel bad for him regardless.

So yeah, this can easily be written out for Will too. If his story's purpose is meant for the exploration of a gay kid navigating a still homoph#bic time, then there's a lot that can be done without even having to spare much screen time between him and Mike. Focus on his fear of judgement from Jonathan moreso maybe, or have Argyle say something - it can be whatever, mention something homoph#bic, mention something not homoph#bic and give Will hope, whatever - which sets off a thought or idea for Will that prepares his arc for the season.

Back to Mike and El - so we want a 'scared to say "I love you"' subplot. That's good, that good. Fleshes out Mike, plays into El's fears. Shouldn't be too hard.

There's already a mild problem though. This plot is playing out twice at once. We have our boy Will hosting this same fear of rejection by Mike - at least that's how things have been shot. His dread is portrayed through his restraint and timidity in revealing his painting to Mike. Will's painting is basically his version of a confession - the guy too selfless, shy and afraid to express his love outright.

So playing out this storyline at the double is.. a choice. I mean, Mike telling El he loves her is a big deal for the milkvans, shouldn't this romance dominate as much screen time as possible in order to be fully pumped up without any sidetracks to other insignificant in comparison feelings? S3 was already quite clumsy, why not have Mike and El's activities soak in all viewers' engrossment without any departures? Maybe spend a bit of time demonstrating how likeable and wholesome they actually are together. Now that we have Will's affection ontop it all, what's important is that Mike and El's camera time spent matters. They can be angsty, they can withhold some misunderstandings, but they still have to be a good. couple.

Oh yeah, also, Mike should blatantly display feelings for El and El only - duh.

.

..

huh ?

huh ? ? ?

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

summary: in which best friends, y/n henderson and steve harrington get caught up in their feelings while paranormal activities occur in the small town of hawkins, indiana

cw: fem!reader, I wrote this a long time ago(I apologize for everything cringe), shit writing, first person pov, a literal holiday romcom, stancy, 2.7k

<3

3 Months Later

Before we knew it, the holiday season had come around and it seemed like we were all scrambling to find gifts for each other. Nancy and Jonathan invited me to go Christmas shopping with them, seeing that we'd become very close in the past few months. Our shared trauma had a lot to do with that.

Jonathan had just called me and told me he'd be at my house five minutes ago. I glance at the clock again before returning my gaze out the window.

With a sigh, I trudge over to the phone hanging on the wall, starting to call Nancy's number. That's when I hear a car rolling into my driveway.

I grab my jacket, pulling it tight to my body before opening the front door and walking cheerfully outside. I instantly freeze, not because of the cold, but when I spot the maroon car sitting in my driveway.

Steve sends me a shy wave from inside his car. I hesitantly wave back before walking towards the passenger door and sitting inside.

"Hey," I say as Steve turns the heat up noticing my shivering figure, "I was supposed to be going shopping with Jonathan and Nancy."

"Uh, yeah," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck, "Nance called and said something came up and asked if I could step in."

Also in the past few months, Nancy and Steve got back together. He really did love that girl.

"Oh well," I say buckling my seatbelt with a bright smile, "I guess we're doing this together then, Harrington."

"Yeah, I guess so, Henderson."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

Steve walks behind me with a smile as I skip around the town while it snows. I stop at every window of every shop checking to see if anything catches my eye to give to one of my friends.

Steve seems to be struggling with what to get Nancy so I have to help him out a bit.

"How about that?" I tell Steve pointing at the pretty bracelet laying in the window of the local jewelry shop.

After a few moments, Steve slowly comes up to stand beside me, his warm presence filling the air as he glances at the bracelet on display. I continue to gaze in the window, my eyes locking on a silver necklace with a ring for a pendant. My gaze lingers there for a moment before I turn my attention back to Steve, who has been watching me this whole time with those eyes.

"Yeah, that's perfect." Steve says, breaking the silence, by referring to the bracelet I'd pointed out.

"Okay, great," I reply walking towards the door to the shop, "Lets go get it."

"Wait," Steve says, grabbing my arm before I can open the door, "I'll get it. You go ahead to the next place, I'll meet you there." He says quickly and I don't question it. I just nod and start my walk to the next store.

As I walk down the sidewalk, my feet crunching into the snow, I think about what I could get for Steve. I glance at the bags in my hands, feeling a pang of guilt and embarrassment as I realize I've gotten everyone something, except for him. He's never been the hardest to shop for, but the pressure of getting Steve the perfect gift is starting to get to me. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to let some creativity in, but so far, nothing comes to mind.

Suddenly, I hear quick footsteps coming from behind me. As I open my eyes I'm met with Steve who slows his stride before stopping by my side with a couple more small bags in hand.

Steve seems to notice something is up as he tilts his head to one side with a confused look, "You okay?" He asks quietly.

"Yeah, no, I'm good." I say when we begin to walk through the freshly powered snow. "I'm just thinking."

"About me, I hope?" Steve replies with a smug smile on his face.

"It's always about you, Harrington."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

The next day was Christmas Eve. Today I would be going over to the Wheeler's house to pick up Dustin from the boys' D&D campaign and hand out my gifts. And I still don't have anything for Steve.

I'm starting to freak out a little bit.

I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts racing with each breath I take. As the words repeat over and over in my head, I can't help but think of Steve.

Steve. Steve. Steve. What would Steve like?

I sit up in bed, as the exhaustion builds inside of me. Wanting to take a break from the constant thoughts of Steve, I decide to leave the house in search of some fresh air. I grab my jacket and head towards downtown, finding a quiet bench, wiping the fresh snow off before sitting down.

As I watch the people and couples stroll by, I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace and relief.

Then, I hear soft footsteps crunching through the snow, approaching me. I look up to see an old lady, probably in he 80's, sitting down next to me, her soft and gentle eyes gazing at me with warmth and kindness. She smiles, and I respond with one of my own. The two of us share a peaceful moment, the snow falling slowly around us and sparkling in the light.

"Hey," I turn slowly towards the lady, "Could you maybe help me with something?"

"What can I help you with, honey?" The lady replies kindly.

"Um, so I have this friend, and I haven't found a gift for him yet." I let out a small sigh before continuing, "I just don't know what to do because I want it to be perfect." I finish, glancing back at the lady who just smiles.

"This friend must be very special, huh?" She asks with a certain look hiding behind those soft eyes.

"Yeah." I respond, almost dreamily, "He is."

"If you mean as much to him as he does to you, I don't think it would matter what you get him," The lady says, that soft smile never leaving her face, "As long as it's from the heart." She finishes, holding her hand up to her chest, where her heart is.

I finally know what I want to give to Steve thanks to a sudden inspiration courtesy of a random old lady's brilliant mind. I quickly thank her before rushing home so I can get the gift done before I have to head over to the Wheeler's.

Frantically, I rummage through my room, searching for the old camera Steve and I used to use together. I find it in an unexpected spot, under my bed, before heading back into town to a local shop where I can get the photos developed. I wait impatiently while the pictures dry. When they're finally done, I grab them stuffing them into my bag before going home. I grin as I shut my bedroom door behind me, knowing they'll make the perfect gift for Steve.

I slip the pictures into a small envelope before grabbing a sheet of paper to write a letter to Steve. With a clear and steady hand, I start to write, my thoughts and emotions flowing as I compose the perfect message for the one who has always meant the world to me.

As I write, a flood of memories come rushing into my mind.

"Is it a little strange? Sure, but it's also romantic. When I heard it for the first time, it reminded me of you."

I smile as I remember that night we'd spent on his bedroom floor. I remember his warm smile, the gentle touches, the mix-tape we'd never finished.

"I don't really know who you are anymore Steve."

"Then let me show you,"

I pause in my writing to dwell on the night Steve snuck into my room, all those months ago. That was the night our friendship was truly reborn in a moment of secrecy and trust.

"What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, freak."

A single tear slips out, fueled by the bitter memory of what Steve called me months ago. I let my anger and frustration spill into the paper, letting which lets the rest of my emotions loose.

"Whoa, (Y/n), what are you doing with that?"

"Protecting your sorry ass."

I let out a light chuckle of amusement as my rage from earlier dissolves into a warm flood of happy memories.

I remember the day we made our promise, when Steve and I were just kids. We sat with our legs dangling in the pool, lightly swinging our feet through the water. The water glimmered in the sunlight, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees as we watched our reflections in the ripples of the water. I remember the sense of calm unity that we felt in that moment, our friendship forged in the waters of that pool, our words spoken with so much hope and faith in our hearts.

"We won't ever stop being friends, right?”

"We're in this together, Steve Harrington."

"Always."

With a small smile on my face, I carefully slip the letter into the envelope alongside our childhood pictures. I then gently place the envelope in my backpack, where it lies with the rest of the presents I'll be giving out later today.

Then I realize I've made a love letter in disguise.

Shit.

Oh well.

I hear a couple knocks on the front door and promptly open it, finding Jonathan standing on the other side with a warm smile. As he gestures towards the driveway, I nod and head out the door, putting my backpack on and grabbing my jacket. We then drive to the Wheeler's house to pick up our brothers from their campaign. I'm filled with excitement and anticipation as we pull up, eager to see my friends reactions to the gifts I picked out for them.

As we pull up to the house, I notice Steve's maroon car sitting in the driveway, the sight causing my smile to falter ever so slightly. The thoughts of him and Nancy getting back together run through my mind. But I remind myself that Steve and Nancy are my friends, and I'm going to support their decision, no matter how much it hurts.

Jonathan and I get out of the car and walk up to the door where a very cheerful Mrs. Wheeler greets us, with a tray of cookies in hand.

"Merry Christmas, kids," She greets with a warm smile, "Cookie?" She offers pushing out the tray towards us.

"Ooh, thanks, Mrs. Wheeler!" I exclaim happily, grabbing a cookie before walking alongside Jonathan into the house.

"Nancy is upstairs with Steve and the boys are in the basement." Mrs. Wheeler comments before making her way back to the kitchen with the rest of the cookies.

"Perfect," I say before walking down the stairs to the basement.

"Jeez, what's that smell?" Jonathan says as I bring my hand up to my nose to plug it, "Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?" Jonathan asks, making me let out a snort.

"Oh, that's just Dustin." Lucas giggles, "He farted. Dustin farted." Lucas sings while making farting noises.

"Okay." Dustin replies annoyed.

"Dustin farted." Lucas continues to sing.

"Very mature, Lucas." My brother comments and I let out another chuckle.

"Will." Jonathan says, grabbing his brother's attention, who stand up with a smile, "Come on."

"Shut up." Dustin repeats.

"Dustin farted!" Lucas sings, standing from his seat.

"Bye guys." Will says with a little wave before following his brother up the stairs.

"Bye Will." The three boys chorus at the same time.

"Dust, we gotta go too," I say with a smile as the boys say goodbye to their friend, "But first, presents!" I sing, opening my backpack.

As the boys sift through my bag and pull out their gifts with excitement, I watch them with a smile on my face. They thank me for the thoughtful presents with wide grins, giving me affectionate hugs. I wave goodbye to the boys before, Dustin and I rush up the stairs. Where Mrs. Wheeler is waiting.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Wheeler." Dustin and I say at the same time and I send her a soft smile.

"Merry Christmas, guys." She returns my smile, "Say hi to your mom for me."

"We will." I reply before heading towards the door. I usher Dustin out, telling him that I'll be right there.

Before I can make my way up the stairs to Nancy's room, her and Steve come rushing down the stair. In a flurry of holiday cheer and joy, the two of them make their way towards me, their faces filled with excitement with presents in hand.

"We thought we heard your voice." Nancy says with a sweet smile, handing me a present, "Merry Christmas, (Y/n)."

"Thank you, Nancy." I say sincerely before she nods, walking towards her mom whose still in the kitchen.

I place the tiny gift box into my backpack grabbing the envelope for Steve before facing the nervous looking boy in front of me.

"I—"

"Here." I say, shoving the letter into his hand.

"Oh, thanks." Steve replies, starting to open the letter.

"Wait!" I say frantically grabbing his hands, preventing him from opening it right now.

"Later?" Steve asks, reading my mind.

"Yeah." I let out a relieved sigh as Steve puts the letter into his front pocket.

I stare into Steve's eyes for a moment, my heart fluttering with every beat. Then he reaches into his back pocket and suddenly reveals a small jewelry box, the sight causing my breath to catch in my throat.

"Uh, I got you something." Steve says, fidgeting with the box in his hand, before reaching out to grab my hand, placing the box into my palm gently, "You can open it now, if you want."

I slowly and carefully open the box, my anticipation growing with every inch it opens. When the lid finally lifts, however, I can't help but gasp as I catch glimpse of the necklace from yesterday, the one with the ring. I stare at the necklace in my hand, eyebrows furrowed as I try to make sense of this gift.

My thoughts run wild as I look up at the boy whose staring at me with excitement and slight worry.

"Read it." Steve says softly, "The ring."

I grab the ring noticing the engraved message on the inside.

Always

My eyes start to tear up when I glance up at Steve.

"Whoa, you don't like it?" Steve questions with a concerned look.

"No, no, I love it, Steve." I laugh lightly at his worry.

"Oh, good." He replies rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can I?" Steve asks, reaching his hands out towards the box.

With blush spreading across my cheeks, I nod as Steve steps closer, his warm hands taking the necklace. He gently moves my hair to the side and quickly fastens the necklace around my neck with a soft click. As he shifts my hair back into place, I turn back around, our faces inches apart.

"Thank you, Steve." I say softly, glancing at his lips, "I really love it."

"Yeah, I mean, I saw you looking at it and I—"

I cut him off with a quick hug, a warm feeling pooling in my chest as I feel his arms wrap around me. We stand there by the front door of the Wheeler's house, our bodies pressed together, the moment charged with emotion. I lean in and give his cheek a quick peck before finally parting ways. I turn towards the door, my hand resting on the knob.

"Bye, Steve." I say, sending him a small wave before opening the door.

"Bye." Steve replies dazed, but still gives me a two-finger wave.

I smile because something changed, and I'm not sure that's a bad thing anymore.

<3

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[steddiebang2024]

how to wake a dead boy. | M |  33.7k

Author: @punkslovepoints

Artist: @bleedingoptimism

Beta Reader: 100_Thrown_Out_Speeches (AO3)

[Link to fic] | [Link to art]

Pairings: Stever Harrington/Eddie Munson

Characters: Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington, Dustin Henderson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler

Tags: Childhood Sweethearts, Childhood Friends, Time Jump, Angst with a Happy Ending, Mutual Pining, Food as a Metaphor for Love, Apocalypse, Steve Harrington Has Powers, Alternate Universe - Pushing Daisies Fusion, Inspired by Pushing Daisies, Necromancy  

Trigger Warnings: Parental Death, Child abuse, Neglect, Some horror elements, Blood, Mild Gore, Some lingering Stancy

↳ Keep reading below for a summary!

They pull up outside the funeral home. An austere building masquerading as homely, it reminds Steve of his own house. Dustin looks nervous as Steve turns off the engine, sits with his hands on the wheel, just waiting.

Dustin has removed his hat and is tracing his fingers along the words, muttering to himself as he does.

“You don't have to go in, you know.”

Dustin snorts in response.

“I mean it.” Steve leans towards him, forces Dustin to look at him. “I know it may feel like giving up to not go in now, but it's not. We can do something else, throw a party in his memory or something. You don't have to punish yourself.”

Dustin continues to trace the outline on his hat. “No. I want to.” He looks up then, makes eye contact. “If you're given a chance to say goodbye, a real goodbye, you've got to take it right?”

Steve stares at him in shock, Dustin’s words forming an idea in his mind. A very, very stupid idea. Dustin continues to talk, explaining that this'll be his last chance to see Eddie. That he needs to do it, for closure.

“Wait here.”

“What?”

“Just,” Steve opens the car door, steps out and leans in, “I need to let them know we're here, there'll probably be paperwork. I'll come back and get you when they're ready.”

He closes the door before Dustin has a chance to respond. Walks the short distance from the sidewalk to the driveway as if his heart hasn’t started to pound and his legs don't feel like jelly.

He hasn't used his power in years. After working out the rules, he’d gotten good at hiding it, thinking of it as more than a curse than a power. And on the odd occasion he’d been forced to touch something dead, he'd perfected the old double tap method. Even Dustin hadn't noticed the split second of alive-again-dead-again back when they'd stuffed the demodog into Joyce Byers fridge.

By the time he reaches the entrance, he's made up his mind. He’s going to wake Eddie.

One minute.

A chance to say goodbye.

Properly this time.

The funeral director gives Steve a look of annoyance when he steps through the door, refuses to shake his hand, and just grunts a curt, “This way,” as he leads him through the building. Steve has gotten used to it over the past week, those who believed the stories, who see Eddie as nothing more than the murderer the press make him out to be. Steve tries not to care, just lets the guy lead him through to the back, thanks him as he waves a dismissive hand towards the door and returns to the desk mumbling that he doesn’t understand why they didn’t let Eddie rot in the hell he created.

Steve watches him go, steps into the room, closing the door behind him. It’s quiet. Steve doesn’t know why he expects anything else, just knows it feels strange to be in a room with Eddie and it be silent, not when Eddie himself was so loud. 

The room isn’t large, just a table with a vase on it that should contain flowers but doesn’t. The casket is sitting closed on a raised platform. Steve steps closer, his heart hammering in his chest, he’s muttering to himself how this is a bad idea, a bad idea, a bad idea.

Still, he opens the lid of the casket and there he is.

Eddie.

He’s paler than he’s ever looked before, make-up smeared across the worst of his facial wounds, but done without care or precision. He’s glad that Dustin isn't seeing him like this, he looks barely better than the day he died, although at least the shirt he’s wearing isn’t covered in blood.

He gives himself a moment. Steadies his breathing before reaching out and with a delicate touch, places a finger on Eddie’s cheek.

[munson-blurbs]

Love You Through It (Dad!Eddie x Mom Reader)

Summary: When you're struggling with postpartum depression, Eddie brings in some help. Just a little blurb.

Warnings: depression, anxiety, mention of pregnancy, Stancy is canon

WC: 915

A/N: I've struggled with depression, but not PPD. I tried to draw on my own experiences and what I've heard from others, and I hope I did this request justice.

--

On a Sunday morning, you wake up to the sound of Eddie's voice crackling through the baby monitor.

"Good morning, Melly Bean! Today's gonna be a beautiful day," he coos. You want to smile, soak in the way your husband dotes on your two-month-old daughter, but you just can't. It feels like there's something blocking you from feeling happy.

You roll over in bed, pulling the covers up to your chin. Eddie's baby talk fades from the monitor but gets closer to your bedroom door.

"You wanna go see Mommy? Show her how much you love her?" he asks, even pausing as if Melody can give an answer.

"Hi Mama Munson," Eddie calls to you from the doorway. "Someone wants to say 'good morning.'" His sweet smile morphs into a frown when he sees you burrowed into the blankets. "Sweetheart? What's going on?"

"Nothing," you insist, voice muffled by the layers covering you. "Just wanna sleep."

Eddie looks at you, concern evident all over his face. "Okay, love," he says finally, "we'll be in the living room if you need us."

You wait until after he closes the door to sob into your pillow.

~

"Hello?" Steve answers the phone groggily, glancing at the time. Only 7:30 AM; who could be calling at this hour?

"Harrington," Eddie''s visibly relieved by the sound of his friend's voice. "There's something wrong with Y/N."

Steve sits up immediately at this news. "What do you mean?" he asks, panicked. "Does she need to go to the hospital?" Eddie hears Nancy's quiet voice, and Steve repeats what Eddie just told him.

"I don't--I don't know if you go to the hospital for this," Eddie tells him. "She stays in bed all the time, she doesn't want to be with the baby, she barely eats..."

Nancy takes the receiver from her husband. "Eddie?" she says. "Hon, that sounds like postpartum depression."

Eddie's eyes widen. "What do I do? I've been trying to handle everything but I'm just so...tired," he admits. "It's a lot, but I don't want to make her feel worse."

"I'm coming over," Nancy says, throwing off her covers. "Give me half an hour, okay?"

Eddie nods before realizing she can't see him. "Thanks, Nance," he whispers.

~

Your bedroom door is nudged open, but instead of Eddie, Nancy's standing there.

"Can I come in?" she asks, and you nod slowly. It seems like everything is happening in slow motion these days.

She takes a seat next to you on the edge of the bed. "Eddie called us," she explains softly, rubbing your back. "He's worried about you, babe. We all are."

"'M fine," you lie, but it's no use trying to pull one over on Nancy.

"No," she shakes her head, "you're not. You should talk to your doctor, but I think you have postpartum depression."

"But how?" you cry out, voice catching in your throat. "I'd get it if I was alone, or there was something wrong with Melody, or the delivery..." You start to cry again, and you're genuinely shocked that you haven't dehydrated from all the tears you've shed. "But Eddie has been amazing, and the baby is happy and healthy, and my delivery was fine."

Nancy offers a small smile. "Unfortunately, it doesn't always work like that," she says. "It can happen to any new mommy, regardless of the circumstances."

"Nance, I feel so guilty all the time," you confide in a hushed whisper. "I want to do more, but it's like my brain and my body won't cooperate. And then it all falls on Eddie, which makes me feel even worse. Like..." you pause before allowing the truth to spill out, "like I'm failing at being a mom."

Your friend squeezes your arm gently. "You are not a failure," she reassures you. "We're gonna help you get through this, okay? This isn't your fault. If anything, it's Eddie's fault for getting you pregnant in the first place." she says with a giggle.

"I heard that!" Eddie calls out, peeking his head into the doorway. Nancy stands up when he comes in.

"You two get some rest, and I'll make some breakfast." She scoops up the baby monitor on her way out. "Don't worry about Melody; I'll take care of her if she needs me."

Eddie snuggles into bed behind to you and presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck. "You know I adore you, right?"

"Of course," you reply. "I'm sorry I haven't been showing you how much I adore you, Eds."

"My love, you carried our perfect daughter for nine months. What else can I ask for?"

"I don't know," you reply tersely, "maybe a wife who can take care of her baby, who can take care of herself?"

"And you will," he tells you, wrapping a strong arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly close. "But right now, we're gonna sleep. And when we wake up, Nancy is gonna help us find someone you can talk to. Like a therapist or something," he clarifies.

You take his hand and kiss it. "Do you think Melody hates me?" you whisper.

"Hates you? Oh, baby, absolutely not," Eddie gives a little laugh. "She loves her mommy. And she knows how much I love you, too."

"And how much is that?" you tease, snuggling into him.

Eddie's peppering kisses all over your face, his curly hair and hint of stubble tickling your cheeks.

"Does that answer your question?"

--

[spicybylerpolls]

are the people who are anti-nsfw-byler aware that homosexual males have sexual fantasies and urges, and act on those urges?

are they aware that we're not some pure magical fairies who "represent the cleanest form of love"?

like, no, we still get very horny just like nearly every other male. the difference is that we're horny exclusively for other guys.

even i, who also identify as gray asexual, have periods where i'm very horny, get turned on easily and my libido is all over the place. but i also have periods when i'm not interested in sex at all & just crave romantic affection. so most gay guys are even more sexual than i am.

we're not some "cute wholesome bois", we crave sex. and sex isn't clean whether you like it or not. gay sex is dirty and carnal, deal with it.

maybe it's because a lot of them are girls, but guess what, being horny and sexually aroused feels different for guys than it does for girls.

if you think gay males are dainty fairies who exist only to look cute and be pretty, you're part of the problem.

Delicious points, anon!

When many had a problem with hosegate, you know the problem isn't just with people not wanting to watch literal sex scenes (which is understandable- not everyone wants to see it) but on the characters being sexual beings at all (which is not understandable, since sex is a normal, healthy, and common part of coming-of-age narratives).

It also isn't just because Mike & Will are still underage because as many of my anons have pointed out, people tend to have way fewer qualms about Lucas and Max being sexual beings (the things under Lucas's bed, Max's "happy screams" comment, etc.) or about Dustin being a sexual being (his physical attraction to Phoebe Cates, Steve talking with him about "sexual electricity, etc). And obviously both Jancy and Stancy were still underage when they had sex.

I do think there's often a weird energy here specifically around Byler. People often emphasize how cute and wholesome and pure Byler is while neutering the sex part of their sexuality in the process.

Of course, that's a false dichotomy where Mike and Will somehow can't be both cute/wholesome/pure and normal teenage boys who get boners and think about doing the devil's tango. I mean when some Bylers in the past have tried cancelling fic writers for hinting that Mike and Will get boners sometimes, that's really weird, no?

If anything, this kind of mindset can often be more homophobic than those who are outright against two boys dating. In an effort to not "fetishize," Bylers make the characters sexless and sterile (which to some extent is more of a "fetish," if you really think about it). There's probably not one single specific reason for this. I think there are a lot of psychological elements at play, and there's a lot to unpack. I'd be interested in hearing anyone's further thoughts on this topic!

[nakianshuri]

Not to wade too deeply in the "Nancy is selfish/always right posts" I've being seeing lately, but I don't think that's the problem with how Nancy is written.

Yes, when it comes to the plot and solving mysteries, Nancy is always right. But Dustin is mostly if not always right, too, and so is Robin. The show has a lot of characters who are right about things. But all of those other characters get to have moments of levity. Moments where the show isn't taking them so seriously. Robin is brilliant and always right, but she rambles, she's awkward, she talks to Steve about things unrelated to the plot. Dustin is brilliant and drives a lot of the plot because he's always right, but he's also awkward, funny, a know-it-all who needs to be humbled sometimes, and gets to engage in conversations and activities unrelated to the plot.

El is another character who I'd say is mostly if not always right and the most traumatized character on the show, but she gets moments to be fun, funny, and has scenes completely unrelated to the plot. S3 gave her an entire montage of trying on clothes at the mall for no reason except to show her gaining a friend and building up her own voice and identity.

We arguably don't see this with Nancy. When it comes to her emotional life outside of her trauma and the plot, she's underwritten. We never see her appear to enjoy herself as much as she did at Steve's pool party, when we're told through Jonathan and Barb that she pretending to be someone else. Right after Barb's death and then in the seasons afterwards when she's with Jonathan, we mostly if not only see one side of her: the driven and determined side, whether that's her on a crusade to get justice for Barb, or to be taken seriously at her summer internship, or when she's working on the school yearbook. There's no downtime, barely if any scenes of her and Jonathan talking about anything other than their shared trauma, the plot, and their career/academic goals. After season 1, we don't see her have a casual conversation with Mike what she's going through or what his life is like.

With the exception of talking about Steve and Jonathan, her conversations with Robin are about the plot. I mean, I have no problem with Robin and Nancy as friends, but why are they friends? Nancy was rude to Robin until she realizes she and Steve aren't dating, but perhaps Robin sees Nancy's unhappy and needs a friend? I'd accept that, but I'd also argue that Robin and Nancy's friendship is a lesser version of El and Max's. Both friendships start off with El and Nancy being rude to Max and Robin, respectively, out of jealousy. But we get to see Max and El become friends before the plot enters the story: El needs Max's help with boy problems, Max gives her advice, they bond, they play around at the mall, have a sleepover, then they get dragged into the plot. Robin and Nancy don't get that in part because of how s4 is structured, but also because we just don't get Nancy outside of her ambitions, shared trauma, and the plot. Nancy's not a character we ever see just hang out.

And lastly, Stancy. I love Stancy oddly enough because of the reason they broke up: it as the last time she got to be a stupid teenager like everyone else on the show. But for me it also works for me because the show has given Steve time apart from the plot to grow. I've seen some people say the show doesn't care enough about Steve, but I don't believe that at all. Sure, we haven't seen his parents, but his whole arc is about how he grows not only because of the plot but because of his relationships with other people: Nancy, Dustin, and Robin primarily. He's given a chance to be selfish, pigheaded, bitchy, dumb, and wrong, and then to apologize, be a good friend, be selfless, and wisely reflect on his behavior in a productive way that doesn't leave him stuck in a cycle of guilt about his past behavior. Nancy needs this same treatment. The majority of the self-reflection Nancy gets to do is about Barb, and its to wrongly blame herself for her death and to be stuck in avenging mode. She has a great conversation with her mom in which she seems to regret how she's disregarded Jonathan, but it's mostly there to reaffirm that she's right not for her to consider if she went about things the right way. We have also never heard her reconsider if she went about her relationship with Steve the right way either. Does she regret how that ended? Does she regret dating him for a year despite appearing to want Jonathan? We don't know.

I think Nancy is a fascinating character, and I never expect any show to be perfect or to replicate how I envision these characters. But I do hope that in its last season we get to see another side to her.

[devondespresso]

writing my silly little fic and again im struck with how much opportunities they missed by pretending the s2 stancy breakup wasn't messy, specifically for Nancy's guilt about barb and forcing herself to grow up too fast

like s1 Nancy spends one night being a stupid teenager goofing off at her boyfriend's party and staying over to get spicy while Barb goes home. then she later realizes Barb disappeared and died that one night she was letting go and having fun. this is widely recognized trauma for her and informs a lot if not most of her actions through the rest of the show

in season 2 she's feeling the weight of it more around the first year anniversary. steve trys to help by taking her to a party to forget for a little while and 'be stupid teenagers' for a night. a perfectly set up parallel already

the way the show wants it to go, we get the bullshit argument, they fight, allegedly break up at some point, and nancy sleeps with Jonathan. later steve tells her to go with him and we're supposed to read it as Steve stepping back so jancy can happen. we're supposed to be seeing this as a happy ending.

but with the material we're given this would have been the perfect place for an emotional repeat of season 1 for nancy. she and steve go to the party and pretend to be stupid teenagers for the night. but oh no! nancy lets lose too much, lets herself relax and drink and dance, and the next day her boyfriend's pissed. hes saying she said things she never remembered saying and its hurt him and she doesn't know what to do. and kids around school are talking about them breaking up at the party, and that fits with Steve's anger she saw, so they must've broken up right? it sucks, even if she wasn't in love with him, that'd be the worst way to break up with someone (especially if she's confusing platonic and romantic feelings or convincing herself it has to be romantic when she really just values him as a friend)

and then she doesn't have time to work it out, she needs to go with Jonathan to avenge barbs 'disappearance' to give her family closure. She's got a lot of conspiracy shit to do and its stressful. so when murray starts going off about how she's not really in love with steve, how she actually likes Jonathan and he seems to like her back. they finished a lot of the hard work with the conspiracy stuff, she can let her guard down and have a quick good night.

then the next day is chaos. demodogs and labs and will being possessed. It a rough fucking day. Steve tells her to go with Jonathan while they get the mindflayer out of Will, civil like they're on good terms so she does (and thank god she did because that was rough and they needed all the help they could get)

and then everything's fine again, with the upside down. and it looks like she handled things better this time, was about to relax occasionally and still made it through.

except apparently she and steve didn't break up. he thought it was just a few fights, that they put their shit aside for the apocalypse and now they can work things out.

and it could ruin nancy. a year later and she's still hasn't learned her lesson, that letting her guard down hurts the people she cares about, that relaxing and having fun makes her lose people. its her fault for the messy breakup with Steve and its her fault that barb is gone. she's the reason she's lost friends close to her, 2 for 2, and now she only has Jonathan left (and what do you know, season 3 has her conflict with Jonathan and in season 4 she's not let anyone else get truly close to her and fred still dies)

you see what i mean?? by having conflict magical resolve itself in the background we loose so much powerful, painful character drama for her. our girl who thinks she has to keep the world around her up solely on her shoulders because she can't handle the loss of her best friend in season 1. Nancy who desperately wants to be normal and have people she loves but keeps losing them, through factors both in and out of her control, but feels like everything has to be her fault just because some things were.

and to be fair, that story is still present in the show. its there and definitely compelling, but it could've been even more so. i feel like if maybe there was less 'nancy has to be a strong independent girlboss' in there (abd it's definitely there, they want to make a point of making her a Strong Woman Character so bad) and she was allowed to have mistakes acknowledged by the narrative, this is the direction it would've gone. She could've been an excellent example of well written women who are strong and awesome through their own right instead of the narrative trying to make us like her

[love-byers]

so as hard as it may be to believe, i was a mileven shipper right up until just before vol 2 of s4 came out. not hardcore twitter mileven, but a shipper nonetheless. i did love will and mike's relationship, maybe even more than mileven, but i never clocked it as romantic. i vividly remember thinking "aww, will and mike would be so cute together but they would never let that happen." and never thought about it again. even when i saw the rain fight and heard "it's not my fault you don't like girls" i was like "ohh wow so will is probably gay" and didn't even think he was in love with mike. i didn't believe that until the s4 trailer said "i think there is someone he likes" and of course, this was because of my own heteronormativity. i dismissed everything i saw and didn't even look for hints because the idea that the writers would allow a gay relationship between two main characters was not even a thought in my head. once i dropped that and started to trust that the writers actually cared and did want queer characters/storylines, everything made sense.

so i went into s4 thinking mileven were gonna be fine and that will was sad and hopelessly in love with mike. i mean fully believing it. so im mindlessly watching s4 e2 and thinking "aww poor will mike is so in love with el he can't pay attention to will" no questions asked.

then the fight happened. when mike blew up and said "you were! you were! you were rolling your eyes, you were moping, you were barely talking you basically sabotaged the whole day" i was like " how do you know that" but still, i dismissed it and barely thought about it.

then it happened. "we're friends! we're. friends." all the alarm bells went off. red flags flew up. my eyebrows furrowed. "ummm what mike? he didn't say you were more than friends. why is he viewing this romantically and why is he being so defensive???"

i was so deep into believing the writers would never let the gay romance happen, but that just couldn't get past me. there's no other way that line can be interpreted. that's a trope that means one thing and one thing only.

my next thought was "ok, this is gonna be like the rain fight. will is gonna be really hurt by this and go silent."

but nope, will claps back with "well we used to be best friends!" and i was stunned. utterly stunned. what is going on here? what is this dynamic? and why is mike more worried about this than finding el? why did he care enough to completely stop walking so he couple blow up at will for not talking?? but still, i was somehow able to let this go. because the writers just wouldn't do that. would they?

the mileven fight happens and i've never wanted to backhand a teenager more in my entire life. i'm reminded of stancy and their whole "i love you" thing

then THIS happened, and i was thinking more and more that mike doesn't love el romantically. look at his face when will says "whatever you didn't say you can say it to her then". will starts talking but the camera stays focused on mike and will remains blurred. we're supposed to be taking in mikes reaction. he says yes, but frowns and blinks rapidly. will was trying to reassure him, but mike has not been reassured. i don't know how to describe the emotion on his face. it's like you just had a chance to clear up your lie, but you still didn't, and now you're back to thinking about the moment your lie will blow up in your face. it's like his face is saying, "no, i can't just say it to her then because i don't want to."

the scene where they talk on top of the car is what started to make me think mike doesn't love el romantically. his reaction to will saying "it's scary, to say how you really feel. especially to people you care about the most. because..what if they don't like the truth?" he nodded. he felt seen. i remember thinking "ooooh. he doesn't love her and he knows she won't like that" everything made sense. if we apply mike's monologue logic to this, it makes no sense. whatever it is that mike is feeling, he thinks el won't like it. then he supposedly decides that the moment to tell her that is when she's dying?

mike is lying. he was holding back saying how he feels because he knows el won't like it. then when she's dying, he suddenly thinks his feelings are what she wants enough that it'll save her life? whatever he was feeling on top of the car and what he tells her in the monologue are not the same. you don't tell someone something they won't like when they're dying.

and 2 years ago i came to this conclusion without an ounce me believing byler could be canon.

[withlovewriting]

All I Ever Knew, Only You 7: There Is A Hole In My Soul That Can Never Be Filled

Chapter Seven.

Oh, the truth, The damn hard truth, That I didn't think I was capable of love, Loving anyone, even you, But then you, undeniable you, You came to me like a dream, And you changed me through and through, Oh because I, I was a broken man, Never thought that I could love again, I thought I'd leave this world a lonely man, But then you, undeniable you, Changed me through and through

Summary: Hawkins was your typical quaint, mid-western town where nothing ever happened. People were born here, lived their entire lives within the town limits, and eventually died here, peacefully in their sleep. But one cold November evening in 1983 would change everything.

Despite a child with psychokinetic abilities and ravenous monsters that lacked faces, stranger things had definitely happened in the small town in Indiana. One of them being your reluctant and slightly imposed friendship with Hawkins High’s own King Bee, Steve Harrington.

Characters: Steve Harrington x Non-descriptive F!Reader (eventual)

Words: 9,528

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of hospitals, mentions of money problems, parental style arguing with Hop, mentions of possible near-death experiences, mentions of mental health conditions, allusions to addictions, eye contact. Lots of eye contact. We're almost through the Stancy storyline, I promise.

Series Warnings: Strong language, mentions of underage drinking, mentions of drug use, canon-typical violence, mentions of alcohol abuse, mentions of possible mental health disorders, child abuse, slow burn, kinda enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, I like to call it ‘two idiots who begrudgingly befriend each other only to realize… ‘wait a damn minute…’, eventual sexual content, canon-typical time-period bullshit. 18+. Minors DNI.

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Chapter Seven: There Is A Hole In My Soul That Can Never Be Filled

The incessant beeps were driving you insane.

Your head was pounding and all you wanted to do was sleep. Sleep until nothing hurts anymore. But that god-forsaken beeping wouldn’t stop.

You could hear chatter around you, muffled and distant, but there nonetheless yet you couldn’t recognize any of the voices. For a moment, you wondered if you were in one of those half-awake states. That you had slept through your alarm and your body was too slow in waking up, knowing that the school rush would be hectic.

You wanted to slam your arm on top of the alarm clock and throw it across the room in an attempt to quieten it, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t force your arm to move.

Trying with all your might, you tried to peel your eyes open, the beeping increasing in tempo when you realized it shouldn’t be this hard to wake up. The voices around you drew closer, your name falling from unrecognizable mouths, a futile attempt to pacify you as you began to panic.

Everything smelt a little too clean as if someone had scrubbed every inch of the room with bleach before bathing in antiseptic. An underlying bitter smell, leaving an aftertaste on your tongue akin to that of iron.

It wasn’t until your eyes finally peeled open that worry bubbled into panic, settling under your skin, merging and fusing with your bones as you realized you didn’t recognize this place, and the insistent beeping was not your alarm clock.

You expected the pain to hit you, but your body remained numb, tingly almost, as if you hadn’t moved in too long, pins and needles bursting through your limbs and you weren’t sure whether to remain still and let them fade or to shake your body in hopes of forcing them from you.

Turns out, the latter wasn’t even an option.

More mummers from around the room, a soft, soothing voice trying to reassure you of your safety, but the words of strangers fell flat. Your body was still in fight or flight, and all you wanted to do was run.

Run far away from this place. Far away from Hawkins. Far away from the Midwest.

The private waiting room wasn’t as full as it was earlier in the evening, and despite the young boys’ insistence, Mr and Mrs. Wheeler had driven them home an hour or so ago.

Nancy, however, remained in her seat, Steve’s offer to drive her home being the only reason her mother had allowed her to stay. Her leg bounced as she checked her watch for what felt like the millionth time in the last couple of hours.

Will had woken up earlier, a sigh of relief erupting from the small waiting room, but she refused to leave until she heard how you were.

They’d rushed you to Hawkins Memorial in Steve’s — much faster — car, your head resting in Nancy’s lap, the girl trying her best to keep you conscious as Jonathan continued to hold the stained pillow against your body.

It was there that they ran into Joyce and Hopper, the kids turning up a little later to be checked over, and once they’d realized Will had been found, they refused to leave, so Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler offered to drop the rest of the kids home when they got news on the boy.

Jonathan had rushed home to pack him a small box of items and had since returned to his brother's side, unwilling to leave him, Joyce was much the same.

Although Hopper was beyond relieved that he had managed to find the boy and rush him to the hospital, the teens’ pale, worried faces as he questioned your whereabouts made his heart drop.

Nancy had explained what had happened, why you were here, and Hopper was certain the minute you were out of surgery he would kill you himself.

His head shot up, watching as a nurse entered the small room, her eyes looking around for someone she wasn’t going to find, eventually settling on the Chief instead,

“She’s awake, but she’s very groggy.”

Hopper stood, stepping over his fallen hat without a second thought as he made his way toward the door, only to be stopped by the nurse’s outstretched hand, “I’m being serious, Chief. She lost a lot of blood, and she’s very confused. She doesn’t need a grilling from the police right now-”

His eyebrows pulled together, a mixture of annoyance and offense at the nurse’s words, “I’m not here to question her.”

Despite his effort to move forward, he was halted once again, “Then I’m afraid it’s only parents or guardians at this time. I’ve already told the last officer-”

“Look around, do you see her parents anywhere? Now I’m going-”

“Other officer?” Nancy questioned, her eyes darting between Hopper and the nurse, “What other officer?”

“The one hanging about by the room... Chief? Chief!” Hopper bumped the nurse out of the way, long legs marching down the corridor until he reached your room. His hand flexed over the gun that was resting in his holster. There were no officers outside, and as he peered through the small window of your door, he couldn’t see anyone in there either.

Pushing the door open, Hopper froze as he looked over your frame, finding himself unable to fully catch his breath.

He hated the clinical smell of hospitals, and if he closed his eyes, he could’ve easily been transported back to 1978. To New York… To that hospital.

Forcing a deep inhale through his nose, Hopper pushed himself forward, one step at a time as he approached your bed, his heart pounding in his ears, and the slow, steady beeping of the monitor was the only thing that kept him grounded. You were here, and you were alive.

Your name fell softly from his lips as if he was almost too scared to wake you. Or himself. Because what if he was back in that waiting room, life forever on a loop of tragedies that began and ended in a hospital? He couldn’t help but believe that he definitely was cursed.

It took two more calls of your name — and the feather-light drag of fingertips along your forearm — before you arose, eyes wider and more alert than before, gasping for breath as much as you were for something to ground you. Something you recognized.

The beeping — the same annoying, unceasing noise — seemed to get louder, the tempo increasing more and more as you panted, your heart feeling like it was going to burst from your chest at any given moment.

You could hear your name being called, at first gently, almost soothing, before that too became more frenzied, a strong hand gripping you as you sat up, stopping you as your frantic hands tried to rip the wires from your body and off your face, panic and flight set in all too quickly, evading your senses and blinding you to what was really there, the pain from your tugging stitches merely a thought on the back burner of your mind.

More voices joined the chaos, but you focused on one. The only familiar voice in the room, the one now telling you to breathe, instructing your breaths as if you were a child.

His scent was less familiar. Once tinged with a dark-colored liquor, now only the faint stale smell of smoked cigarettes and a sheen of sweat invaded your senses, but above all, a deep, woody smell that you could never quite describe. Not cologne or aftershave, but something wholly natural. Something utterly Jim.

It was Jim.

The nurses surrounded you — ready to sedate you — but Hopper shooed them off, his grip only tightening as you clung to him, words babbling out of your mouth without much control as your weary, drug-addled brain tried to fight its way out of the fog. Stuttering, you couldn’t contain the tears that fell from your eyes when you finally realized you were safe. You’d lost consciousness in the back of Harrington’s car, but your night was foggy even before that, unable to fully recollect how you had got here, the fragmented memory of tonight only coming back in flashes.

Once your heart rate settled the nurses backed off, but Hopper continued to hold you, his own tears trailing down his cheeks and dropping onto the top of your head and for a long while, the room was filled with silence.

It was Hopper who eventually broke it, his voice gruff before he cleared his throat, “What the hell were you thinking, Kid?”

You didn’t reply, and he didn’t give you a chance to, “You could’ve been seriously hurt. God dammit, you were seriously hurt.”

Of course, he knew why you’d agreed to go with Nancy and Jonathan, the former explaining everything to him once her own parents had left the hospital. The monster would’ve been heading right for himself and Joyce, and they would've been completely unaware. You had to distract it, to lead it away. You were willing to sacrifice your safety for Will’s, Joyce’s, and his own.

In hindsight, it really was a terrible plan. Dangerous, too. But once you’d seen Joyce’s warm, brown gaze from your doorway the next morning, her bottom lip wobbling as she approached you slowly, you knew you’d do it again and again. Without question or hesitation, and despite any trepidation.

She had explained how Hopper and herself had found Will, that he had managed to find his way to Castle Byers — a den he and Jonathan had made the day their father left home for the last time — and was on the brink of death. How Hopper had revived him, and that the boy was now healing only a few rooms away.

Once he was well enough, Joyce wheeled him down to see you and despite her not wanting to leave his side, she entrusted you with him when she went home to shower and collect some more items for the boy. Plus, Jonathan wasn’t far from his side most of the time.

Will sat quietly coloring whilst you stared at the hospital door, waiting for the one person you wanted to see to walk in. But, as usual, you were left disappointed and embarrassed.

You couldn’t leave until a parent or guardian had signed you out, and you were already feeling nauseous about how much this visit was going to cost you.

Will and Jonathan had returned to the boy’s own room earlier — Will was still recovering and needed his rest — when the door handle of your room turned, your heart leaping to your throat in desperate hope.

Everyone you had expected to see had already visited you. Nancy had come by earlier that morning, the tension between herself and Jonathan almost palpable, awkward enough that you were prepared to leap from your 10th-story window just to get away from it.

You’d questioned the girl once Jonathan had left, but Nancy shrugged and told you Jonathan was focusing on his mother and brother right now, and she understood that. It was then you realized the one thing Nancy Wheeler couldn’t do was feign nonchalance.

It was the tall head of hair that pulled your brow into a frown, forehead wrinkling as you watched the boy almost timidly slip into your room with one hand behind his back before he settled on the uncomfortable chair that had been placed in your room per Hopper’s demand.

You watched him for a moment as he looked anywhere but your direction, discomfort evident on his face, and it took a solid two minutes before either of you spoke.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” your voice was still a little gravely, and you watched as Steve picked up the cup of water from your bedside table, only to place it back when you shook your head.

One hand scratched the back of his neck as the other clung to a denim jacket, “I, uh… I didn’t know whether or not I should come. I mean, I didn’t think that you’d wanna see me.”

“And yet, here you are, Harrington.”

You didn’t mean to sound so standoffish, but this situation was still so surreal. If you’d been told just two weeks ago that Steve Harrington, of all people, would be visiting your bedside you would've slapped them silly. It wasn’t until you saw the dusty rose on his cheeks that you backtracked,

“I just… I didn’t expect to see you here.” His cheeks remained stained pink, but his eyes finally met yours.

“I didn’t know if I was actually gonna come,” he sent you a strained smile that didn’t quite reach his amber eyes, “Was even less sure that you’d actually want me here.”

Nodding, you couldn’t help but scan your gaze over his still bruised face, wondering what he’d told his parents about his injuries, or if they’d even been home to notice them.

“Why did you come back?”

Your question caused Steve’s dark eyes to dart away from you, eyebrows furrowed as if that night was the last thing he wanted to think about because he could still hear your blood-curdling scream when it was too quiet. Running his hand through his hair before scratching at the back of his neck again, Steve eventually met your eyes, “I uh… I was about to get in my car when I saw the lights flickering. I heard everyone yelling, and then I heard a scream...”

His voice trailed off as he peered up at you from underneath his lashes as if he was revealing some dark secret and wasn’t sure how you’d respond. Instead, you nodded, fingers playing with the rough hospital blanket,

“Thanks, Harrington. I owe you. And I’m sorry if I stained the back of your Beamer,” at his confusion, you continued, “Nancy told me that you drove me here. I’d offer to pay for the cleaning, but I think this place draining any savings that I already don’t have.”

You said it in jest, but Steve could see the underlying trepidation that you tried to repress.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

You nodded as the room filled with silence, the repetitive sound of your heart monitor only adding to your restlessness. You were positive the noise was now embedded in your brain.

Steve’s thumb traced over a button on the jacket he was still clinging to, his heart stinging a little at the other girl’s name. After dropping Nancy home the first night, she hadn’t spoken to him. He had only tried to contact her once, Mrs. Wheeler letting him know she was busy, and Steve had realized he needed to give her time despite wanting nothing more than to drive to her house and apologize profusely. Instead, Steve had put all his efforts into this stupid, denim jacket.

As if the thought had prompted him to remember why he was here, he placed the jacket on the bed, ignoring your perplexed gaze, “I uh… I found this on the Byers' driveway. Kinda why I stopped, too.”

Unfolding the jacket, you couldn’t hold in the huff of laughter, gratitude pulling at the corners of your mouth.

Cheeks painted pink, the boy stuttered for a second, refusing to make eye contact, “I… I managed to get most of the blood out. My Mom only has Daz, I hope that’s okay-”

“Steve,” your voice stopped his babbling, his big, doe eyes gazing toward you, “Thank you.”

A moment’s silence passed between you both despite Steve’s mouth opening and closing a few times as though he was doing his best impression of a fish. You knew he was looking for the right words to say, but knowing Steve Harrington, it could take a while.

Before Steve managed to find those words, the door swung open a little too quickly, Hopper wandering in with a brown bag filled with what you presumed was lunch. His step halted as his eyes darted between yourself and the boy, watching with a furrowed brow as Steve stood up, brushing the nonexistent dirt from his hands onto his jeans.

“Chief,” an awkward smile pulled at his lips, much more of a grimace than anything else.

“Harrington.”

Hopper didn’t bother to move, forcing Steve to make his way around him instead after bidding farewell as he finally took his leave.

Once the door was closed, Hopper made his way toward you, reclaiming the chair Steve had just left, “Didn’t know you two were friends.”

Rolling your eyes, you released a petulant sigh, “We’re not, he was just dropping something off.”

It took Hopper a few seconds, but eventually, he muttered a half-assed reply before pulling out two sandwiches from the bag. He held the two options up, allowing you to pick which one you’d prefer before unwrapping his own.

Inhaling sharply, your hands gripped around the scratchy hospital gown as if that could stem the pain you felt as you tried to sit up.

“Hey, hey, hey! Go careful, or you’ll tear a stitch.”

“It hurts,” you grumbled, allowing Hopper to help you sit up a little despite his mouth being full of turkey and bread.

“Yeah, no shit. That’s what the drugs are for.”

“I know, but I’m not using any,” unwrapping your own sandwich, you picked at the crusts as Hopper sent you a sharp glare that you could only roll your eyes at, “Do you know how much they charge for that shit? Hop, I’m never going to be able to pay these bills, and the only reason the hospital hasn’t kicked me out on my ass yet is because of you.”

Swallowing down a bite of his sandwich, Hopper wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, brushing the crumbs onto your bed, not that you took much notice, “Kiddo… You need that pain medication. Don’t worry about anything else-”

“My Mom lost her job,” your previous hunger had all but vacated the building, leaving you to place your food back onto the Saran wrap, “and somehow, I don’t think my shitty part-time job at the arcade is gonna pay the bills. We can barely afford the heating in winter, these hospital bills are going to absolutely crush us.”

Hopper’s blue eyes met yours, hardened over the years but somehow still soft, “You ain’t paying for shit, Kid. It’s covered, don’t worry about it-”

“I am not taking money from you, Hop-”

“Relax, it’s not mine. There’s uh… Some people are gonna come meet us later. Scientists. They’re talking to everyone involved, already paying the Byers’ hospital bills… They’re paying for yours, too. So enjoy the free morphine and eat your damn sandwich.”

Turns out, Hopper wasn’t yanking your chain. Sam Owens — apparently the new director of operations at Hawkins’ lab — had personally visited you. He’d explained that the lab had all of your hospital bills paid for, as they did Will’s, and that you, along with everyone else involved, would need to sign an iron-clad NDA, and despite the almost feral urge to throw the money back in their face and refuse the help, you knew you had no say this time and so, your silence was bought.

The official story was simple. You had made your way to the Byers house when a bear attacked you. To your own ears, it sounded wildly ridiculous. Even your doctor seemed uncertain, but his questions were quickly cut off by an agitated Chief of Police.

Once given the all-clear, you were finally allowed to leave. Your mother was yet to return home, and instead, Hopper had signed you out despite the receptionist's complaints.

“Are you sure you want to stay here? Joyce said she could make up the sofa for you-”

“I’m not intruding on Mrs. Byers.”

Rubbing his hand over his beard, Hopper released a sigh, “She said it wasn't a problem. Or you could stay-”

“I am not sharing a one-bedroom cabin with you, Hop. Thank you for the offer, but it’s not happening. I know how loudly you snore.”

Although it didn’t sound very glamorous to the man himself, he still found his eyebrows pulling together in slight offense, “I just don’t feel comfortable with you being here alone-”

“My mom will be home eventually,” you waved a hand dismissively as you made your way up the rickety porch, happy to finally be home.

Hopper was close on your heels, almost running right into the back of you as you crossed the threshold, not really expecting the sight you saw, “I’m sure she will, but we don’t know when that’ll be... What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just… Has someone been here?” Looking around the lounge, the broken glass had been swept, the coffee table fixed, and it even looked as though someone had vacuumed. It was too much of a stretch to believe that your mother could’ve been here.

“Oh, yeah. That Wheeler girl grabbed you some clothes for me to bring in. Why?”

You were too ashamed to tell him the real reason, so instead, you sent him a shrug and continued into the small house as Hopper threw your backpack that held the few essential items Nancy had grabbed.

“I need to leave soon, but if you need anything-”

“I think ringing an emergency line would be frowned upon. Especially if Flo’s there.”

Annoyance evident on his face, Hopper huffed out a long sigh, “Well, don’t go calling it for a pizza or anything. But if you need me, I’ll be there until 6. You have my number for the cabin, right?”

Despite knowing the number by heart, your mother still kept the crumpled napkin that Hopper had used to scribble down his number when they were first reacquainted in a drawer in the kitchen.

“You’re good to go, Hop. I’ll be fine.”

Hesitating in the doorway for a second, he watched as you slowly made your way to the couch, cautiously laying yourself down as you pulled out a cigarette from an abandoned pack Nancy must’ve found under the sofa and grabbed the lighter left next to it.

“Those things will kill you, Kid.”

Waving a hand around, you sent him a smirk, “Looks like it’ll have to get in line.”

Sending an unamused glare, Hopper finally shut the door, his own cigarette already dangling from his mouth before he’d even reached his vehicle.

Your mother had returned home a few days later, unbothered and unaware of the events that had transpired since you’d last left. Apparently, she had met someone in a bar just outside of town, and the two had a whirlwind romance and decided to take a road trip to Minneapolis until they eventually grew sick of each other — or rather, sobered up — and she all but raced back.

She didn’t ask what had happened, and you had no intentions of telling her, either. If the bills were paid for, then she needn’t worry, and if she found your blood-soaked jeans in the trashcan, she never bothered to mention it.

You had seen Nancy a few times — both of you still haunted by the loss of Barb — and she had confided in you about how she’d heard Mike down in the basement, trying to contact Eleven every day since, hoping that she was out there somewhere. Eventually, she tried to contact Jonathan, but the boy always seemed busy. He was hesitant to let his brother out of sight, and you couldn’t find it in yourself to tell Nancy that the boy blamed himself for his brother’s disappearance, even now. He worked extra shifts to help his mother, but the two alternated, making sure someone was home. He was dropped at the Wheeler’s house for their DND nights and picked up, no longer allowed to ride his bike alone, especially at night.

At first, Will had thought that it was great having a personal chauffeur, but Jonathan had confided in you that he knew the boy had grown sick of the constant observations. In less than 4 months he would officially be a teenager, and Jonathan knew they couldn’t coddle him much longer. But he still saw the uncertainty storm in his mother’s dark eyes — the same expression he was sure he wore himself — whenever his brother left their sights, counting down the hours until she would be picking him up.

Only a month had passed, and life had seemingly returned to normal. Despite your mother losing her job at The Hideout, she had managed to score a Christmas temp job at Bradley’s Big Buy, and although it wasn’t the best-paying job in town, it paid more than her bartending and at least took the pressure off of you a little. Despite being told to take it easy, you had returned to school after only missing a week or so and went back to work acting as if nothing had ever happened. Keith agreed to swap a few shifts with you, covering your few days off if you worked over the Christmas period. Not that he had any parties to attend, but hey... Neither did you.

Jonathan had picked you up from the closing shift and offered you a ride home. After everything you’d risked for his family, he felt it was the least he could offer. He told you he had to stop off at the Wheeler’s house and pick up Will, and you knew it would be the first time he’d possibly run into Nancy. It wasn’t that he was actively avoiding her, but you knew that once rumors had surfaced around the school halls that Nancy and Steve were back on, the boy presumed things would return to normal. Steve — and Nancy, by association — were popular kids, and he was just… Jonathan Byers, the loner. And he was okay with that.

Mrs. Wheeler answered the door — one hand holding a glass of white wine and a dirty look sent her husband’s way — with eyebrows raised in surprise as she eyed you from the other side of the doorway. Jonathan had all but dragged you from the car once he’d seen Steve’s familiar burgundy BWM parked on the drive. You didn’t have the guts to tell him that you already knew about the teenagers getting back together. In fact, you seemingly helped push them back together.

Jonathan headed down to collect Will as you remained in the kitchen speaking to Nancy’s mother,

“I can give her a shout if you’d like? She’s only in the living room-”

Waving her off, you pulled your woolen beanie from your head and placed it on the counter, “Oh, no, really, it’s fine. I’m sure the boys won’t be long.”

Nodding, Mrs. Wheeler took a big gulp of her drink as she continued to sprinkle icing sugar over one of her many Christmas desserts. For a moment, you wondered if in another lifetime, another dimension, maybe your mother was a master baker, too. Maybe she’d whip up fresh apple pies in the summer, leaving them to cool on the window’s ledge, and in Fall, she’d make cinnamon rolls and pumpkin whoopie pies for all of your neighbors. You’d decorate the house in beautiful string lights — although that thought didn’t seem too comforting recently — and make DIY Christmas wreaths. You’d donate extra cans of food to those in need instead of being the ones to line up at the holiday canned food drive every Christmas and Thanksgiving.

But your mother wasn’t, so you didn’t, and despite your heart longing for a simple childhood, something a little softer, you had come to terms a long time ago that life had dealt you these cards. Yet you still couldn’t stem the bubbling jealousy under your skin that cooled into uncomfortable guilt as you looked around the Wheeler’s clean and spacious kitchen in their fancy house with their white picket fence family.

As if thinking of the girl drew her toward you, Nancy appeared in the kitchen doorway, almost as surprised to see you as you were her, despite it being her own house.

“Hey, when Jonathan comes back can you get him to hang on just a minute? I have something for him.”

Nodding, you watched as she jogged past you and disappeared up the stairs.

Rather than standing in the kitchen awkwardly with Mrs. Wheeler, you made your way toward the basement door, ready to call down to the boys. You could hear their faint giggling as your hand grabbed the door handle, and you decided to leave them be. Five more minutes with his friends — even if it were at your detriment — was the least Will deserved.

Your eyes skimmed past Nancy’s father, fast asleep in the armchair as you looked over their decorations, the stockings hanging above the fireplace, no doubt embroidered with each of their names, the cards from friends and family and neighbors delicately placed with precision.

Someone clearing their throat caused you to jump a little, forced out of your own head before you began to spiral too deep.

Your eyes darted toward the sound, meeting Steve’s. The boy had been quietly watching you trace the room with wistful eyes and decided to make his way over to you.

“Jesus, that’s a fashion choice.” You joked, wishing you could suck the words right back into your throat when his cheeks began to redden, his hand scratching at the back of his neck as he looked at your attire.

“Who are you dressed as? Scrooge?”

You looked down toward your — albeit, all black — outfit, brows pulled together before glaring at the boy, his own eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief, which only made your frown deepen.

“Well, excuse me for not feeling all that festive this year.”

The silence that fell between you was uncomfortable, and the heat radiating from the warm kitchen made you want to tug at your collar.

“How is… you know… that?” Steve asked, his eyes darting toward your stomach for just a second.

Swallowing the same lump that formed every time you saw or felt the ghastly, puckered skin across your stomach, you shrugged, eyes looking anywhere but at the boy. You’d seen the people he hung out with, the girls he’d dated. Steve Harrington was shallow, as most high school boys were, and you weren’t about to let him in on how grotesque your new scar made you feel.

“It’s fine. Doctors said it's healing well, so nothing to write home about.”

For a moment, Steve pondered whether you’d even told your mother what had happened or if she knew about the ‘bear attack’ that had left you pouring blood in the back of his BMW. About the probable scar that you buried under layers of clothes. He hadn’t uttered a word to his own parents, merely heading upstairs and shutting himself away in his room for the evening when he heard his mother mention it on the phone to one of her friends.

But secrets didn’t stay secret for very long in a town as quaint as Hawkins, and despite being in totally different friendship groups growing up, even Steve was aware of your turbulent upbringing. Your father left unexpectedly after the death of your sibling, and your mother has an attachment to a certain Mr. Jack Daniels.

His mother wasn’t one to gossip — or so she’d tell her friends during her wine and book club — but your mother had a reputation around town. For however long she could remain sober, she’d spend twice as long stumbling around town drunk.

'It won’t be long until she’s chanting that it’s the end of the world like her crazy mother,’ he’d once overheard her say before downing her glass of white wine and inspecting the clock, waiting for her husband to come home with barely visible lipstick staining his shirt collar, and smelling faintly of a floral perfume that didn’t belong to her.

Steve knew firsthand that everyone had secrets.

“I uh… I wanted to thank you, by the way,” Steve hesitated, taking a moment to run his hand through his hair, “Nance told me what you said to her at the hospital. About how you knew it wasn’t me who spray painted the marquee.”

Brows pinching together, you watched the boy quietly for a moment as he struggled in your silence before eventually putting him out of his misery, “I hope she still gave you shit for hanging around whilst your friends did it.”

“She did. Trust me. And I went back that day and washed it off. I just… I wanted to know why. I mean, how did you even know I didn’t do it?”

Shrugging, your eyes met the TV as you feigned an interest in the silenced TV advert, “Wasn’t your handwriting.”

The boy’s face scrunched in confusion as your eyes widened slightly, realizing how it sounded, “Jesus, Harrington. I’m not like, a stalker or anything. I just… Last year, I did something kind of stupid, and Tommy spray-painted my locker. I recognized his handwriting.”

Steve tried to rack his brain, only slightly remembering the rumor that had spread quickly around the school.

It had started at a party — the first and last that you had attended so far in high school — and you’d gotten a little too drunk, leading you to get a little too friendly with a boy named Reed. He was on the school's wrestling team and in Steve’s grade, but the boy didn’t know him all that well. The rumor that you’d slept with him went around school for a few days until the next big story broke. But Steve couldn’t remember Tommy defacing your locker. Then again, there weren’t enough hours in the day to remember all the times Tommy and Carol had involved themselves in gossip that had nothing to do with them.

“-Bitch doesn’t quite have the same impact when it’s missing the T, so… Yeah. That’s how I knew.”

Steve nodded slowly, his eyes watching you with an expression you’d never seen come from the boy before. Your skin felt too hot and itchy when you realized it was probably a look of pity.

“Ready to go?”

Jonathan’s voice broke the tension, both you and Steve were suddenly much more interested in the carpeted floor in the Wheeler’s living room than each other. Before you could answer him, you heard Nancy return downstairs, a wrapped gift in her hands as she led the eldest Byers sibling away for a moment, Will remaining by your side as you turned your attention to him.

Steve remained in the doorway, silently watching as you spoke to the younger boy. A little under two months ago, and Steve wouldn’t have been able to pick Will out of a lineup. He didn’t care about his disappearance, barely giving his missing posters more than a glance. He didn’t stop for a second to think how the boy being missing had affected anyone. Not Mrs. Byers, nor Jonathan. Not you. Not even Nancy.

Your conversation with Will was cut short as Nancy returned, her cheeks speckled with a light pink dusting and a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she passed by.

“You ready?” Jonathan asked, dark eyes meeting those of his brother, his own cheeks warmed under the soft lightening of the hallway.

“Yeah.”

You followed after them, wishing Mrs. Wheeler a Merry Christmas as you passed back through the kitchen, hot on Jonathan’s heels.

You’d only made it halfway down the drive when you heard Steve’s voice again, calling out your name. The boy stood in the doorway with his arm around Nancy, watching you ruffle Will’s hair gently.

“Is it really that bad?”

He didn’t divulge any further, despite the perplexed looks he received from everyone else, including his girlfriend, as his grin pulled up on one side, causing your grin to try and force its way across your lips.

Taking one last look at his atrocity of a Christmas sweater, you laughed silently and began to walk backward, heedless to the ice that lined the sidewalks and streets, “The absolute worst, Harrington. Merry Christmas.”

Jonathan had extended the offer of dinner at his house on his mother’s behalf, but you had begrudgingly declined, not wanting to intrude on the family’s meal. So instead, the boy dropped you home, but not until you and Will forced him to open his gift from Nancy.

The Pentax camera was brand new and much better than his old one. A part of you knew that despite Nancy never having to go without, Steve definitely would’ve had to put a decent chunk of money down for her to afford the gift.

The old Ford pulled onto the gravel outside your house, and the headlights lit up a sight you were shocked to see.

“Is that-”

“No,” you shook your head, peering through the windshield as if you'd see better, “No, it’s not. Look, I’ll uh… I’ll talk to you later, alright? Tell your Mom Merry Christmas for me.”

You didn’t wait around for the boy’s response, and despite being unsure whether or not to leave, Jonathan knew his mother would be stressing over the stove, so he did as you asked, driving back home for the evening.

Slowly, as if it could attack you on sight, you made your way toward the front of your house, staring at the bike that leaned against it, a red bow stuck to the front. It couldn’t have been your old bike, that was lost to the claws and teeth of the Demogorgon last month, damaged beyond repair. This bike was new, with no rust whatsoever, and a black helmet hung from a handlebar.

Ripping both the bow and helmet off, you dumped them onto your lawn, the falling snow seeping into them slowly as you jumped on, darting towards downtown.

Hopper threw some chicken tenders into his Tupperware container, cigarette hanging from his mouth, all but ready to leave. Tonight was the annual Christmas Eve party, and he’d shown his face for a while, but he had other, more important plans.

“You leaving already, Chief?” Powell questioned, his own plate filled high with finger foods.

“Oh, come on, you think I actually wanted to come to this thing? I was just hungry,” Jim told them in jest.

“Oh yeah, that’s the spirit.”

Jim made his way back out through the room, coming to a stop when Florence blocked his exit.

Taking the cigarette from his mouth with the glare of a mother, she let out a sigh and nodded her head to the side, “You have a visitor.”

Brows furrowed, Jim looked behind the older woman and spotted you standing by the door, jaw clenched and arms folded in front of you. Before he could leave, Flo patted his chest and wished him a Merry Christmas.

“What’s wrong, Kid?” Hopper asked as he approached you, much like he would a wounded animal.

“Take it back,” you told him harshly, swallowing down a ball of anger mixed with a tinge of regret, “I don’t need a pity gift, Hopper. And I know it was you. So just... Take it back.”

You turned and pushed through the door, more than willing to walk the long distance home, when the door swung behind you, the large man blocking the light as he made his way out, Tupperware container still in hand,

“Did you even wear the helmet when you rode down here? Jesus Christ, Kid. I’ll superglue it to your head next time I see you without it-”

“There won’t be a next time because I’m not taking it. So return it, donate it, do whatever. I don’t care.”

A large sigh fell from his mouth, and Jim had to try his best to dampen his temper, “It wasn’t a pity gift, or whatever you said. It’s a Christmas present. Simple as that.”

“Should I ring the ‘Hawkins Post’? Let them know you're gonna be flying around in a police cruiser handing out presents tonight? A real-life Santa, right here in Hawkins, Indiana? Who’d have thought!”

You turned around, strolling past the bike and across the parking lot. Your spiteful words left the bitter aftertaste of acid on your tongue, but you pressed on, stomping through the snow.

You heard Hopper open a car door, seemingly heaving the bike into the back before the door slammed, and he was on your tail. A hand wrapped around your elbow, stopping you in your tracks despite the lack of force behind it.

“If you wanna argue about this, then fine. But get in the car, and we can do it there.”

“I don’t want to argue, Hop. I wanna go home.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Jim took a moment to calm himself, wishing Flo hadn’t taken his cigarette, “Fine. Just get in.”

Hopper made his way to his vehicle, leaving you to weigh up your options for just a moment. You could walk back home, past the woods that still haunted your dreams most nights, or you could put up with him for 10 miserable minutes and be back home in your somewhat warm, somewhat safe house.

With your decision made, you kicked up snow as you made your way to his car, only half slamming the door when you were settled, ignoring Hopper’s side eye for doing so.

“You hungry?” He asked, eyes remaining on the road as he nodded toward the container.

“No.”

Rolling his eyes, Hopper’s fingers itched for another smoke, but he kept his hands firmly on the steering wheel instead, “I know you well enough to know you’re only this crabby when you haven’t eaten properly-”

“I’m not crabby, Hop. God.”

Remaining silent for a moment, Hopper swallowed down his annoyance, “The hell you angry for, then? I’m the one who bought the damn thing, and you’re acting like a spoiled brat who didn’t get the color they wanted.”

“I’m embarrassed, okay?!”

Hopper felt his face drop as he lifted his hand to run over his beard. He really didn’t think this through. “You haven’t got to feel embarrassed, alright? It’s just me. And it’s just a bike. If you feel that strongly, I’ll take it back. But I didn’t get it for you because I pity you. Your old one got chewed up and spat out — literally — and I just wanted… I thought maybe it could make up for all the shit that’s happened.”

Unclenching your aching jaw, you watched the man closely for a moment as guilt pooled in his eyes, “None of that was your fault, Hop. The world tore itself a new asshole, and a monster crawled through. You weren’t to blame for-”

“-I don’t mean that shit,” he sighed, eyes now avoiding you like the plague, “I mean everything before. Everything with your Mom and… leaving. Leaving you there with her.”

The silence between you two grew with guilt and awkwardness, choking you both from the inside out.

“It isn’t your place to worry about that.”

“I worry about you,” he sighed, knuckles whitening as he clenched his hands over the steering wheel, “I knew that shit wasn’t right, and I still packed up and left.”

“You’re not my dad, Hop. If he doesn’t feel guilty about leaving, neither should you-”

“Yeah, well, your dad’s an asshole.

Unable to stifle the small laugh that fell from your lips, you nodded in agreement, “Yeah, he is.”

Despite a weight being lifted from his shoulders, Jim couldn’t help the tinge of guilt he still felt — and probably always would feel — when he looked at you, his cornflower blue eyes watching your hands as they fiddled with the threads of your jacket sleeves.

“I wasn’t ready, you know? I’d been back a year, and it had only been two since…” Clearing his throat, Jim forced himself to continue, “Since I lost Sara. I didn’t know what I was doing, but I shouldn’t have been involved with anyone. Especially someone with a child.”

Hopper didn’t want to admit it, but he hadn’t intended on staying with your mother for as long as he did. Sure, she was fun to drink with back then, but he hadn’t planned on it lasting longer than the night. Then that morning, as he shuffled into your cramped kitchen, mind foggy with lack of sleep and most likely still a little drunk, he came across a 12-year-old you, perched at the breakfast table eating no more than a handful of stale cornflakes, sans the milk.

You’d looked him over, one brow lifted slightly in contempt — an expression he still witnessed to this day — as you moved past him, grabbing your threadbare backpack from the floor. You didn’t utter a single word, nor did you spare him a second glance as you left for school.

It would’ve been so easy to leave and never look back. But the next thing he knew, he was in 'Bradley’s Big Buy' throwing a box of ‘Frosted Flakes’ into his basket, along with a carton of milk. When he’d bumped into you the next morning, once again sat at the table, spoon hanging from your mouth as you looked up from your bowl, you remained silent. It wasn’t until you placed your bowl in the sink — knowing full well it would still be there when you returned home from school — that you uttered your first words to him as you took your leave,

“Coffee’s in the pot.”

He should’ve left when it was easy. But Hopper’s heart was broken and bruised, and he was nothing if not sadistic. He’d grown attached, knowing full well that he wouldn’t be able to remain in your life and that you wouldn’t ever fix the hole in his entire being that losing Sara had caused, just as his being there hadn’t healed the ever-lasting pain that having a parent walk out had caused. But for a while, the bandages held in place, allowing you both to bond and soften the chipped parts of your souls.

“When I lost Sara… I didn’t think I’d ever get another chance, you know? Hell, I didn’t want one, anyway. I lost my baby girl, and nothing in this world could’ve replaced that, you know? But shit, Kid… You come pretty damn close.”

His eyes met yours as he pulled to the side of the road, eventually turning the engine off, “I’m sorry for a lot, you know? I’m sorry I forced my way into your life when I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay, and I’m sorry for not believing you when all this shit started to happen. I’m sorry for the shitty cards you’ve been dealt in life. But I don’t pity you alright? Shit, you risked your life for a kid you barely know. I think you’re brave, and fuckin’ stupid sometimes, but… I think the world of you, Kid. Always have, and always will. No matter what dumbass thing you do next.”

Sniffling, you could feel his eyes boring into the side of your face as you turned away, wiping your nose.

“You alright over there?” He asked, eyes a little teary himself, not that he'd ever admit that to you.

Shrugging, you cleared your throat, “Flu season, right?”

You heard a soft laugh fall from his mouth as the man undid his seatbelt, reaching over to grab the container from the dashboard before he opened his door, “C’mon, we haven’t got all night.”

Ripping your seatbelt off, you followed the man, confusion written all over your face, “Where the hell are we going? You got a new hobby feeding the wildlife or something?”

Hopper passed you the container of food as he turned on his flashlight, making his way into the woods as you followed, practically on his heel. You both remained silent during the short walk, your footprints in the soft snow being the only indicator that you were even there until Hopper opened a lockbox. Taking the container from you, he placed it in before pulling something from his pocket — you were pretty sure it was two Eggo waffles, wrapped in Saran wrap — and placed it on top. Closing the box, Hopper took a moment to look around the woods before standing up. He didn’t utter a single word until you were back in the car, driving towards your home.

“You think she’s gonna come back?”

Shrugging, Hopper took off his hat, “I don’t even know if she can.”

You sent him a small, genuine smile, “If she can, she will.”

“You sound awfully optimistic.” Hopper couldn’t deny that he, too, hoped Eleven could… hoped she would come back.

Shrugging, you pulled your jacket closer around you as you turned up the radio, the bass of The Waitresses ‘Christmas Wrapping’ filling the short ride home.

Pulling up outside your house, Jim noticed the lack of Christmas decorations — something that wasn’t abnormal in your home — but decided not to comment on it. Your mother’s car was haphazardly parked on the driveway, and despite knowing you wouldn’t be alone in the house, it didn’t help him feel any more at ease.

“You gonna be alright on your own tonight?”

Your question caught him off-guard, halting his actions as he was half out of the car, “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me. Got some beer at home, and CBS is showing re-runs of ‘Dukes of Hazard’ all night.”

Rolling your eyes, you closed his door — this time much more gently — and watched as he pulled the bike out of the backseat. Pushing it toward you, he watched as you apprehensively took it. Hopper's eyes softened as he pulled you into a hug, the heat from his body and jacket swamping you for a moment in all the best ways.

You heard the front door open and your mother's footsteps as she stepped onto the porch. Calling your name, she watched as Hopper placed a gentle, barely there kiss on the top of your head. You could hear the porch creak under her as she shuffled slightly, calling your name once more, only this time a little more firmly,

“Time to come in now.”

Pulling away from the man, you began to push your bike toward the porch where you’d leave it out of the snow. A call of your name — this time in the other direction — stopped you in your tracks, and you watched as Hopper tipped his hat slightly to your mother. She rolled her eyes, but backed up into the doorway a little — her half-assed attempt at giving you privacy.

“Wear your damn helmet next time, alright?”

Rolling your eyes, you quickly found the helmet covered in snow, grabbing it and wrapping it over the handlebars.

Hopper returned to his car, waiting until you were safely inside before pulling away.

This year, Christmas Eve hadn’t been the worst. Your mother — as usual — had drank a little more than she should’ve, her questions surrounding Hopper turning into a borderline inquisition, but eventually, she wandered off into the living room, glass of brandy in her hand as you prepared some boxed Mac’n’Cheese.

By the time you were finished, she’d fallen asleep, sprawled out on the sofa as the TV blared. Grabbing the duvet from her room, you placed it over her and took her now empty glass to wash up.

The clock had struck 12am before you knew it and despite the need to sleep nipping at your heels, you remained steadfast in your search. You’d pulled out the few clothes you had that no longer fit you, checking through the size tags before making a small pile of ones that were decent enough.

If Hopper believed that Eleven could come back, you would make sure she had something to come back to. Telekinetic powers or not, she’d freeze to death in the bitter, unforgiving winters of the Midwest.

A quiet knock at your front door halted your actions, an old jacket held halfway to a pile. Waiting for a few seconds, you heard no other noise and continued to fold the clothes, until you heard another — slightly louder — knock.

Cautiously making your way toward the front door, you took a deep breath before tugging the door open, cringing as it creaked loudly.

Steve stood, hand raised in the air as if to knock again, honey-colored eyes wide as if he didn’t expect the door to be answered at this time of night, despite knocking twice.

“Harrington? What the hell are you doing here?” You whispered, eyes darting around behind him as if you expected his gang of idiots to pop up behind his car and pelt you with snowballs.

The boy looked unsure, following your suspicious glances behind him, “I, uh-”

Eyes widening, you shushed him before turning, watching your mother stir slightly from his voice in the all too quiet house. Stepping out into the cold night air, you closed the door behind you, hoping the mechanism wouldn’t jam and lock you out.

Steve stepped back a moment too late — your body bumping into his to make room — and caused a loud creak on the unsteady porch, causing you both to wince. Looking up toward you with a feeble smile painted on his face, he apologized quietly.

“I just came by to bring you this. You left it at Nancy’s.”

Pulling your hat out of his coat pocket, you carefully took it from him, holding it in a tight grip in hopes it would warm your already chilled fingers, “You really didn’t have to drive all the way out here just to give it back to me, but... Thanks.”

The boy nodded, both his hands shoved into his pockets, ignoring the snowflakes that had yet to melt from his hair, “It’s cool.”

You both stood for a moment, equally unsure as to what to say or do next. Being cordial with someone like Steve didn’t come naturally to you, but the boy was clearly making an effort, and for now, you would too.

“You know, if you’re not asleep when Father Christmas comes, he won’t leave you any presents.”

A cloud of air fell from the boys mouth along with his soft laugh, “Yeah well, I’m not sure I deserve much more than coal this year.”

Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth and biting down on it for a moment, you tried to keep your opinion to yourself, “I mean, you were an asshole for a solid 70% of the year.”

“Giving me a whole 30%? Someones in a good mood.”

Shrugging, you tried to keep the smile from your face, “I mean, it’s the holidays. It’s all about charity and giving, right?”

Scoffing slightly, Steve rocked on the balls of his feet, stopping quickly when the porch groaned under his weight, “So I’ve heard.”

A cold wind blew through, rattling the front door and causing a burst of goosebumps to cover your skin. Pajamas really weren’t outdoor clothes. Steve watched as you shivered slightly and decided to take his leave, but before he could excuse himself, you caught him off guard,

“Won’t your parents be wondering where you are?”

This time, his scoff seemed much less friendly, “Yeah, I doubt they even knew I left. They, uh... They have their annual Harrington Christmas Eve party. Not really my kind of thing, I guess.”

“Free alcohol and rich folks having pissing contests. Thought that would’ve been right up there on your list of things you enjoy.”

Despite his hands still being firmly pressed in his pockets, his fingers twitched with the desire to tug at his hair, “Oh yeah, it’s a ball.”

This time you were unable to hide the broad smile that split across your face, shoulders shaking slightly from a silent laugh. It felt weird to know that Steve Harrington of all people didn’t feel at home in his own house. Your skin felt itchy and hot, and you yearned to rip it from the bone as if you knew a secret about the boy that you probably shouldn’t.

It wasn’t unknown that the Harrington’s were away often, that’s how Steve had managed to throw so many parties over the years. But not knowing if he preferred it that way or not — something even he was unsure of — made you feel uncomfortably connected to the boy.

“Is your mom…”

“Asleep on the couch, half a bottle of brandy in. Just like every other day ending in a Y.”

Steve nodded, “Right. I uh, I should go.”

You watched as Steve made his way down the driveway toward his car, his hand finally reaching up to his mop of hair to ruffle the snow from it. Before he could get in the car, you called his name, one last time,

“Merry Christmas, Harrington.”

“Merry Christmas.”

[findafight]

I'm pretty sure the Duffers explicitly stated that Nancy and Steve broke up before she gets with Jonathan, but I, who has watched the show, disagrees immensely. Because the alley scene, looks like a really bad fight and not a breakup. No one says it's over and the fight ends because Steve is needed in class. No where does it really read breakup. Further more, Nancy admits to Jonathan that she has wanted to be with him since last year while she was dating Steve - that's emotional cheating. And she repeatedly calls Steve her boyfriend at Murray's so furthermore, I read that as Nancy cheating.

Exactly exactly. Completely agree. Class is an awkward time to have an argument, and it's clear that there's things unsaid. Word of god can only go so far as not directly contradicting the text?? That's not what we saw? Nancy tells Murray she's with Steve. She doesn't say "I just broke up with Steve". She says she has Steve back home! To me, an audience member, that tells me their relationship isn't over, even if they had a major fight because she's not able to be emotionally vulnerable with him and then leaves for days without telling him. Like jeez Steve probably wasn't the perfect boyfriend but??? That's harsh.

Someone pointed out a while ago that if the genders were switched, there's no way Steve would be the one coming out of it looking bad, which makes a lot of sense. There's interesting gender dynamics happening. Like if Steve were a girl asking her boyfriend if he loved her, to say it, and then being upset when he couldn't it would read differently. Just like if Nancy were a boy going on a two night roadtrip with the girl he swore he didn't cheat with, telling that girl he waited a month for her before going back to the girl who had actually made a (reciprocated) move, telling Murray he was dating someone else, and then sleeping with roadtrip girl. Like. I feel as though very few people would read that as not cheating? Female infidelity is interesting in how media views and portrays it I guess. Or maybe it's because we're supposed to like jancy more than stancy but they really don't want us to think Nancy cheated (which she did) The only reason I can think that they said that is to save face? Not have to talk about it in later seasons?

Also yes!!! Why did they have that line that makes it seem like Nancy was just...with Steve for convenience? Because she didn't want to be alone or something? Because the guy she actually liked wasn't making a move so she got with the guy who vocally liked her? And theydon't address THAT can of worms? And somehow that makes Steve look bad? Because he doesn't know his gf has been waiting for Jonathan to make one singular move on her their whole relationship while he's actually trying to make his relationship work. I know it's probably not like that, that Nancy (probably) did legitimately care for Steve, but taken at face value....uh. yikes. Emotional cheating isn't often shown as seriously as "actual cheating" but yeah. Argument to be made that Nancy was emotionally cheating their...whole relationship and just physically cheated at the end there. Which is...pretty brutal for ol' Stevie boy!

Very frustrating that S4 seemed to bring stancy back but refused to have them actually talk about the issues they had (which, if TPTB don't view Nancy cheating as...Nancy cheating, then it can never actually be done to a satisfying end for me)

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

I spent a long time hating Ronance that I forget sometimes that I actually like the ship now. (Is it possible to get phantom hate pains?) I mean, it was the same way with Stancy. I used to hate Stancy, but I love them now because I realize that there's no reason to hate either one of them. It makes perfect sense that Robin and Steve would fall for the same girl. I mean, they're so codependent, and it makes sense that Nancy would fall for them both. (Steve and Robin still being platonic, of course). They're a matching set, right? Que Nancy showing up to Family Video with a grin on her face.

"Two employees for the price of one, please?"

"Oh my God, is that how she's asking us out?" Robin asked.

"Robin. . .I hate to break it to you, but we're in love with a dork."

"Hm. . .dorks aren't in season this year, Steve, and you know I only go for what's popular."

"I've changed my mind, I don't want either one of you," Nancy said, and all of them giggled.

[alwaysmoncheri]

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘𝐒

pairings ❧ steve harrington x reader

summary ❧ (y/n) spends the holidays with the one and only steve harrington

warnings ❧ female!reader, cheesy & sappy steve, shit writing, holiday romcom, stancy

word count ❧ 2.7k

additional notes ❧ this is basically a cheesy holiday romcom ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ

3 Months Later

Before we knew it, the holiday season had come around and it seemed like we were all scrambling to find gifts for each other. Nancy and Jonathan invited me to go Christmas shopping with them, seeing that we'd become very close in the past few months. Our shared trauma had a lot to do with that.

Jonathan had just called me and told me he'd be at my house five minutes ago. I glance at the clock again before returning my gaze out the window.

With a sigh, I trudge over to the phone hanging on the wall, starting to call Nancy's number. That's when I hear a car rolling into my driveway.

I grab my jacket, pulling it tight to my body before opening the front door and walking cheerfully outside. I instantly freeze, not because of the cold, but when I spot the maroon car sitting in my driveway.

Steve sends me a shy wave from inside his car. I hesitantly wave back before walking towards the passenger door and sitting inside.

"Hey," I say as Steve turns the heat up noticing my shivering figure, "I was supposed to be going shopping with Jonathan and Nancy."

"Uh, yeah," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck, "Nance called and said something came up and asked if I could step in."

Also in the past few months, Nancy and Steve got back together. He really did love that girl.

"Oh well," I say buckling my seatbelt with a bright smile, "I guess we're doing this together then, Harrington."

"Yeah, I guess so, Henderson."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

Steve walks behind me with a smile as I skip around the town while it snows. I stop at every window of every shop checking to see if anything catches my eye to give to one of my friends.

Steve seems to be struggling with what to get Nancy so I have to help him out a bit.

"How about that?" I tell Steve pointing at the pretty bracelet laying in the window of the local jewelry shop.

After a few moments, Steve slowly comes up to stand beside me, his warm presence filling the air as he glances at the bracelet on display. I continue to gaze in the window, my eyes locking on a silver necklace with a ring for a pendant. My gaze lingers there for a moment before I turn my attention back to Steve, who has been watching me this whole time with those eyes.

"Yeah, that's perfect." Steve says, breaking the silence, by referring to the bracelet I'd pointed out.

"Okay, great," I reply walking towards the door to the shop, "Lets go get it."

"Wait," Steve says, grabbing my arm before I can open the door, "I'll get it. You go ahead to the next place, I'll meet you there." He says quickly and I don't question it. I just nod and start my walk to the next store.

As I walk down the sidewalk, my feet crunching into the snow, I think about what I could get for Steve. I glance at the bags in my hands, feeling a pang of guilt and embarrassment as I realize I've gotten everyone something, except for him. He's never been the hardest to shop for, but the pressure of getting Steve the perfect gift is starting to get to me. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to let some creativity in, but so far, nothing comes to mind.

Suddenly, I hear quick footsteps coming from behind me. As I open my eyes I'm met with Steve who slows his stride before stopping by my side with a couple more small bags in hand.

Steve seems to notice something is up as he tilts his head to one side with a confused look, "You okay?" He asks quietly.

"Yeah, no, I'm good." I say when we begin to walk through the freshly powered snow. "I'm just thinking."

"About me, I hope?" Steve replies with a smug smile on his face.

"It's always about you, Harrington."

|☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆|

The next day was Christmas Eve. Today I would be going over to the Wheeler's house to pick up Dustin from the boys' D&D campaign and hand out my gifts. And I still don't have anything for Steve.

I'm starting to freak out a little bit.

I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, my thoughts racing with each breath I take. As the words repeat over and over in my head, I can't help but think of Steve.

Steve. Steve. Steve. What would Steve like?

I sit up in bed, as the exhaustion builds inside of me. Wanting to take a break from the constant thoughts of Steve, I decide to leave the house in search of some fresh air. I grab my jacket and head towards downtown, finding a quiet bench, wiping the fresh snow off before sitting down.

As I watch the people and couples stroll by, I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of peace and relief.

Then, I hear soft footsteps crunching through the snow, approaching me. I look up to see an old lady, probably in he 80's, sitting down next to me, her soft and gentle eyes gazing at me with warmth and kindness. She smiles, and I respond with one of my own. The two of us share a peaceful moment, the snow falling slowly around us and sparkling in the light.

"Hey," I turn slowly towards the lady, "Could you maybe help me with something?"

"What can I help you with, honey?" The lady replies kindly.

"Um, so I have this friend, and I haven't found a gift for him yet." I let out a small sigh before continuing, "I just don't know what to do because I want it to be perfect." I finish, glancing back at the lady who just smiles.

"This friend must be very special, huh?" She asks with a certain look hiding behind those soft eyes.

"Yeah." I respond, almost dreamily, "He is."

"If you mean as much to him as he does to you, I don't think it would matter what you get him," The lady says, that soft smile never leaving her face, "As long as it's from the heart." She finishes, holding her hand up to her chest, where her heart is.

I finally know what I want to give to Steve thanks to a sudden inspiration courtesy of a random old lady's brilliant mind. I quickly thank her before rushing home so I can get the gift done before I have to head over to the Wheeler's.

Frantically, I rummage through my room, searching for the old camera Steve and I used to use together. I find it in an unexpected spot, under my bed, before heading back into town to a local shop where I can get the photos developed. I wait impatiently while the pictures dry. When they're finally done, I grab them stuffing them into my bag before going home. I grin as I shut my bedroom door behind me, knowing they'll make the perfect gift for Steve.

I slip the pictures into a small envelope before grabbing a sheet of paper to write a letter to Steve. With a clear and steady hand, I start to write, my thoughts and emotions flowing as I compose the perfect message for the one who has always meant the world to me.

As I write, a flood of memories come rushing into my mind.

"Is it a little strange? Sure, but it's also romantic. When I heard it for the first time, it reminded me of you."

I smile as I remember that night we'd spent on his bedroom floor. I remember his warm smile, the gentle touches, the mix-tape we'd never finished.

"I don't really know who you are anymore Steve."

"Then let me show you,"

I pause in my writing to dwell on the night Steve snuck into my room, all those months ago. That was the night our friendship was truly reborn in a moment of secrecy and trust.

"What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't do anything, freak."

A single tear slips out, fueled by the bitter memory of what Steve called me months ago. I let my anger and frustration spill into the paper, letting which lets the rest of my emotions loose.

"Whoa, (Y/n), what are you doing with that?"

"Protecting your sorry ass."

I let out a light chuckle of amusement as my rage from earlier dissolves into a warm flood of happy memories.

I remember the day we made our promise, when Steve and I were just kids. We sat with our legs dangling in the pool, lightly swinging our feet through the water. The water glimmered in the sunlight, the sound of the wind rustling through the trees as we watched our reflections in the ripples of the water. I remember the sense of calm unity that we felt in that moment, our friendship forged in the waters of that pool, our words spoken with so much hope and faith in our hearts.

"We won't ever stop being friends, right?”

"We're in this together, Steve Harrington."

"Always."

With a small smile on my face, I carefully slip the letter into the envelope alongside our childhood pictures. I then gently place the envelope in my backpack, where it lies with the rest of the presents I'll be giving out later today.

Then I realize I've made a love letter in disguise.

Shit.

Oh well.

I hear a couple knocks on the front door and promptly open it, finding Jonathan standing on the other side with a warm smile. As he gestures towards the driveway, I nod and head out the door, putting my backpack on and grabbing my jacket. We then drive to the Wheeler's house to pick up our brothers from their campaign. I'm filled with excitement and anticipation as we pull up, eager to see my friends reactions to the gifts I picked out for them.

As we pull up to the house, I notice Steve's maroon car sitting in the driveway, the sight causing my smile to falter ever so slightly. The thoughts of him and Nancy getting back together run through my mind. But I remind myself that Steve and Nancy are my friends, and I'm going to support their decision, no matter how much it hurts.

Jonathan and I get out of the car and walk up to the door where a very cheerful Mrs. Wheeler greets us, with a tray of cookies in hand.

"Merry Christmas, kids," She greets with a warm smile, "Cookie?" She offers pushing out the tray towards us.

"Ooh, thanks, Mrs. Wheeler!" I exclaim happily, grabbing a cookie before walking alongside Jonathan into the house.

"Nancy is upstairs with Steve and the boys are in the basement." Mrs. Wheeler comments before making her way back to the kitchen with the rest of the cookies.

"Perfect," I say before walking down the stairs to the basement.

"Jeez, what's that smell?" Jonathan says as I bring my hand up to my nose to plug it, "Have you guys been playing games all day, or just farting?" Jonathan asks, making me let out a snort.

"Oh, that's just Dustin." Lucas giggles, "He farted. Dustin farted." Lucas sings while making farting noises.

"Okay." Dustin replies annoyed.

"Dustin farted." Lucas continues to sing.

"Very mature, Lucas." My brother comments and I let out another chuckle.

"Will." Jonathan says, grabbing his brother's attention, who stand up with a smile, "Come on."

"Shut up." Dustin repeats.

"Dustin farted!" Lucas sings, standing from his seat.

"Bye guys." Will says with a little wave before following his brother up the stairs.

"Bye Will." The three boys chorus at the same time.

"Dust, we gotta go too," I say with a smile as the boys say goodbye to their friend, "But first, presents!" I sing, opening my backpack.

As the boys sift through my bag and pull out their gifts with excitement, I watch them with a smile on my face. They thank me for the thoughtful presents with wide grins, giving me affectionate hugs. I wave goodbye to the boys before, Dustin and I rush up the stairs. Where Mrs. Wheeler is waiting.

"Merry Christmas, Mrs. Wheeler." Dustin and I say at the same time and I send her a soft smile.

"Merry Christmas, guys." She returns my smile, "Say hi to your mom for me."

"We will." I reply before heading towards the door. I usher Dustin out, telling him that I'll be right there.

Before I can make my way up the stairs to Nancy's room, her and Steve come rushing down the stair. In a flurry of holiday cheer and joy, the two of them make their way towards me, their faces filled with excitement with presents in hand.

"We thought we heard your voice." Nancy says with a sweet smile, handing me a present, "Merry Christmas, (Y/n)."

"Thank you, Nancy." I say sincerely before she nods, walking towards her mom whose still in the kitchen.

I place the tiny gift box into my backpack grabbing the envelope for Steve before facing the nervous looking boy in front of me.

"I—"

"Here." I say, shoving the letter into his hand.

"Oh, thanks." Steve replies, starting to open the letter.

"Wait!" I say frantically grabbing his hands, preventing him from opening it right now.

"Later?" Steve asks, reading my mind.

"Yeah." I let out a relieved sigh as Steve puts the letter into his front pocket.

I stare into Steve's eyes for a moment, my heart fluttering with every beat. Then he reaches into his back pocket and suddenly reveals a small jewelry box, the sight causing my breath to catch in my throat.

"Uh, I got you something." Steve says, fidgeting with the box in his hand, before reaching out to grab my hand, placing the box into my palm gently, "You can open it now, if you want."

I slowly and carefully open the box, my anticipation growing with every inch it opens. When the lid finally lifts, however, I can't help but gasp as I catch glimpse of the necklace from yesterday, the one with the ring. I stare at the necklace in my hand, eyebrows furrowed as I try to make sense of this gift.

My thoughts run wild as I look up at the boy whose staring at me with excitement and slight worry.

"Read it." Steve says softly, "The ring."

I grab the ring noticing the engraved message on the inside.

Always

My eyes start to tear up when I glance up at Steve.

"Whoa, you don't like it?" Steve questions with a concerned look.

"No, no, I love it, Steve." I laugh lightly at his worry.

"Oh, good." He replies rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. "Can I?" Steve asks, reaching his hands out towards the box.

With blush spreading across my cheeks, I nod as Steve steps closer, his warm hands taking the necklace. He gently moves my hair to the side and quickly fastens the necklace around my neck with a soft click. As he shifts my hair back into place, I turn back around, our faces inches apart.

"Thank you, Steve." I say softly, glancing at his lips, "I really love it."

"Yeah, I mean, I saw you looking at it and I—"

I cut him off with a quick hug, a warm feeling pooling in my chest as I feel his arms wrap around me. We stand there by the front door of the Wheeler's house, our bodies pressed together, the moment charged with emotion. I lean in and give his cheek a quick peck before finally parting ways. I turn towards the door, my hand resting on the knob.

"Bye, Steve." I say, sending him a small wave before opening the door.

"Bye." Steve replies dazed, but still gives me a two-finger wave.

I smile because something changed, and I'm not sure that's a bad thing anymore.

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