#Byers Lake Trail

[temptingfatetakingnames]

The Last Steve Harrington Part 17

AO3 / Part 1 / Part 16

Months passed and Steve fell into a routine. He worked three days a week at Family Video with Robin, spent time with the kids and the Hopper-Byers,’ and slowly – slowly started living again.

He wouldn’t say he was happy.

But…

He wasn’t unhappy and that was new.

He liked working with Robin and every chance he got he went to the lake and swam. He borrowed Joyce or Hopper’s car and drove for miles and miles, listening to music and just…being. Every penny he made at work went towards buying his own car. A beamer would be out of his budget but he would find something good and durable. He was fit and healthy and even though he still had nightmares he managed to sleep most nights, even if it was just a little. Late night walks were still a common occurrence, as were morning coffee conversations with Hopper as they watched the sun rise. On Sundays they watched football and sometimes Eleven joined them. On the nights he wasn’t working, he and Joyce made dinner together.

The kids invited him to the movies and the arcade and Dustin had started asking him to play D&D with them. He had managed to deflect that for now. D&D was something precious to him, something he had played to make Eds happy but had turned into a way to bond with the kids and Hellfire. Steve knew it could do the same for him here… but he wasn’t sure how he felt about that. So, deflection… for now anyway.

Another Eleven visited. They had all just sat down for dinner when a knock sounded at the door. Joyce had gone to answer it and had come back wide-eyed with Eleven trailing her into the house. She looked identical to the Eleven sitting at the table, sharing her colourful clothes and hair. They had stared at each other hard, some secret communication passing between them before she turned to Steve with a beaming smile.

She sat beside him and held his hand and he didn’t let go. It didn’t matter how hard it was to eat one handed, he didn’t let go. They ate and talked, Eleven telling him about her Steve and Steve telling her about himself and his life. When dinner was over, he walked her out and she said the words that every visiting Eleven said: Thank you. I am so glad you lived. He hugged her and told her he loved her and that everything was going to be okay. She left with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face.

Eddie liked to stop by Family Video to see him and Robin and the three of them hung out fairly often on weekends. When they had time, he and Eddie worked on fixing the old Munson trailer. Eddie had seemed pleasantly surprised that Steve hadn’t been joking when he said they should try. They borrowed tools from Hopper and Wayne and started clearing everything out. It was a large project and often they had no idea what they were doing but it was something tangible for Steve to work toward. A small purpose that quickly became one of his favourite days of the week.

The thing was…

Eddie was clumsy… and not your average person clumsy.

Clumsy.

The man tripped over literally everything. Carpets, street curbs, his own damn feet. And he didn’t just trip a little and catch himself. Oh no, he fell flat on his face, sprawled on the floor. It never failed to make Steve laugh – the over-the-top dramatic nature of it. If he didn’t know better, he might think Eddie was doing it on purpose. But that was just how Eddie was, loud and dramatic and over-the-top. He and Eds’ were similar in that way. Both were exuberant playful people, but there was a calculation behind Eddie’s eyes that Eds’ had lacked. A darkness… or a wisdom. Something that spoke of loss and survival that Steve recognized in his own eyes. An understanding that scared him… and thrilled him.

He knew Robin tried. They all tried. But their understanding came from the loss of Steve Harrington, whose ghost lived in their eyes… and sometimes it hurt to face them. There was a reason he struggled so hard to connect with Dustin. Steve never expected that he would become so comfortable with Eddie, but he was. Eddie wasn’t Eds and Steve wasn’t Steve and he didn’t know why, but the ghosts left them alone.

Eddie never seemed to mind the days when Steve was quiet. When he needed to hit nails with a hammer until all other thoughts disappeared, when he was angry and destructive. They made a few trips to the junkyard on the particularly bad days. Steve spent the time destroying whatever he could get his hands on and Eddie looked for materials they could use for the trailer. He was good at scavenging – at finding useful things that others had deemed useless and thrown away.

And so, the summer passed.

The kids went back to school and the house got quieter. Steve worked at Family Video and put all his earnings towards a car. He spent time with his friends and worked on rebuilding the Munson trailer. He cooked with Joyce and watched football on Sundays…

… and the good days slowly started to outweigh the bad days.

---

“Steve!”

He was sitting on the roof, the strong September sunlight hitting the back of his neck as he hammered nails into the plywood beneath him. He and Eddie were trying to get the trailer patched up enough to get them through the winter. They had spent the majority of their time cleaning out the inside and had only just started on the infrastructure. Eddie had been working on putting in a new frame for the wall while Steve worked on the roof. There was still so much to do –

“Steve!”

His hammer almost slipped out of his fingers as he was jolted from his thoughts. He leaned over the side, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. Eddie was looking up at him, hands on his hips. His shirt was off, his usually pale skin was red and shining with sweat. Steve sighed. He would have to remind him to use more sunscreen. His eyes glanced down his torso, his scars and tattoos on display and Steve wished he had even an ounce of Eddie’s self-confidence. It never failed to surprise him; how much Eddie didn’t seem to care about them. Or didn’t seem to care about other people caring about them?

“What?” Steve asked, looking away before Eddie caught him ogling.

“Dude, I’ve been calling your name for ten minutes. What’re ya doing up there?”

“Shit, sorry. Just focused, I guess. I want to get this done.”

“You’ve been nailing for hours, come down and have dinner.”

“You made dinner?” Steve asked incredulously. He must have been really zoned out if he hadn’t noticed Eddie had left for that long. He was also surprised that Eddie knew how to cook.  

Eddie laughed. “Fuck no. Wayne made dinner.”

“What’d he make?”

“Fish. Caught it fresh yesterday.”

Steve immediately set his hammer down. Oh yes. He would stop working for Wayne’s fish. His pasta? No. His meatloaf? Steve suppressed a shudder. Defintiely not. But his fish?

Yes.

He carefully made his way to the side where a ladder was set up against the trailer. He turned around and put his feet on the top rung and started climbing down. He wasn’t expecting Eddie to be at the bottom holding it steady for him. When he got close to the end, Eddie stepped away to give him space but still held onto one side of the ladder. Their faces passed close, and Steve could see that his cheeks were even redder than before. He definitely needed to use more sunscreen.  

“Thanks,” Steve said with a smile.

“Yup,” Eddie said looking away from him. “No problem. Happy to help. You really shouldn’t climb a ladder without someone holding it, ya know? You could fall and die. Or break your back and be paralyzed for life. Safety first, Steve.”

Steve looked up at the trailer, it was maybe 12-15 feet high. If he fell the worst thing that could happen was him breaking a leg. If he had bad luck and fell on it wrong. Eddie wasn’t allowed on the roof because he would definitely fall off and break his leg or die or be paralyzed for life – he was that clumsy… or that unlucky. But Steve appreciated the concern.

They walked through the park, waving and saying hello to the other residents as Eddie kept up a constant stream of chatter at his side. When they got to the new Munson trailer, Eddie skipped up the steps first and then held the door open for Steve, which earned him a snort and a side eye that just made him smile. Wayne was in the kitchen and Steve’s stomach growled as the smell hit his nose.

“Wash up boys,” Wayne said without turning around.

The bathroom was small and they were both hot and sweaty. Eddie turned on the water at the sink and let it run as he washed his hands. Steve reached in beside him with cupped hands and splashed the water on his face and neck.

“Hey!” Eddie yelped as some of it hit him.

He was about to apologize when Eddie turned his hand sharply, sending a blast of water directly into his face. Steve spluttered for a moment before glaring over at him. Eddie was smirking, probably thinking Steve wouldn’t start something in Wayne’s bathroom. Oh, how wrong he was.

“It’s on, Munson!”

“Show me what ya got, Harrington!”

Eddie had the advantage of having his hands already in the sink, so he got off another shot before Steve managed to slip under his defenses and get his own hands on the frigid water. Eddie shrieked as Steve landed a hit on his bare chest. They grappled over control of the water source, getting progressively wetter as the battle raged, their laughter sounding loud in the small room.

“Boys!” Wayne yelled.

They stopped abruptly and moved out of each other’s space, breaths ragged and water dripping from their hair. Steve grabbed a towel and passed it to Eddie before grabbing one for himself. They smiled softly at each other as they dried off. Steve put his towel on the floor by the sink to soak up the water and they left.

Wayne glared as they re-entered the kitchen and Steve felt heat rise on his neck. It was easy to forget that this Wayne didn’t know him. At least he had the foresight to know that his gruff exterior hid a truly sensitive man. Steve had been absolutely terrified of Wayne when he and Eds had started dating but he had quickly become someone he loved and trusted. Now, they were almost strangers again. Eddie left the room, returning with his arms above his head as he put on a black sleeveless shirt, the muscles in his abdomen pulling taught.

“Steve, go sit. Eddie, set the table.”

They both did what they were told. Steve sat and Eddie moved around Wayne with ease, grabbing mismatched dishes and cutlery and bringing them to the table. When it was set, he slid into the seat on the other side of Steve, shooting him a wink and reaching his arm across the back of the chair beside him. Wayne carried over a large tray full of steaming food and put it on the table before sitting down with a heavy sigh.

Eddie immediately attacked the tray, grabbing fish and potatoes but leaving the vegetables untouched. Steve waited and risked a small smile at Wayne who only blinked back at him tiredly. When Eddie had tucked into his own food, Steve scooped out a bit of everything onto his own plate before handing the spoon to Wayne who did the same.

“I heard a funny story at work,” Eddie began. “A friend of mine has a cat. Well, his wife has a cat, she loved the thing, he always hated it. Anyway, it was sick so she made an appointment at the vet. She’s busy with the kids and can’t take it, so she makes him go. He’s driving and the thing is meowing like crazy in the backseat. All of a sudden it goes quiet, and he’s just glad to have some peace for the rest of the drive. He gets to the vet and goes to get the cat. Unfortunately, it’s dead, but his wife made the appointment and he doesn’t want her to get mad at him. So, he picks it up, takes it in. Walks up to the counter holding the cat and says, ‘I’ve got an appointment.’ The lady looks at him, looks at the cat, and says ‘sir, that cat is dead.’”

Wayne stared at him like he was crazy but Steve burst out laughing. After a moment, Wayne laughed too, shaking his head.

“Oh my God. Why’d he bring the cat in if he knew it was dead?” Steve asked, wiping the tears from his eyes.

Eddie shrugged and said, “he had an appointment!” and Steve burst out laughing again.

“You need new friends, son,” Wayne said seriously.

Steve settled back with a smile as Eddie and Wayne argued over the value of Eddie’s friendship. He ate his dinner and it was as delicious as he remembered. The fish was light and flaky, the potatoes had a crunchy golden skin and the vegetables were cooked to perfection. Steve thought back to the days when he had nothing to eat but beans – how he used to dream of Wayne’s fish – how he thought he would never get to eat it again. Slowing down, he ate more carefully, savoring every bite. He wouldn’t take it for granted, not this time. He knew now how easily things could be torn away.

When they were done, Steve took the dishes to the sink. Wayne protested weakly but settled back down when Steve insisted he would wash them.

“Thank you for dinner, Wayne. It was delicious,” he said as the sink filled with water and soap.

“Good t’have ya,” Wayne replied gruffly.

Eddie came over with a towel and started drying the dishes Steve had stacked in the rack. Wayne grabbed a beer out of the fridge and headed out to the living room. A grunt sounded and Steve heard the chair recline and the television switch on. Eddie started humming beside him and Steve looked out of the window, feeling full and peaceful. Good food, good company. They had made some progress on the trailer. Another good day. He just hoped the nightmares would stay away so he could sleep well. Good days meant bad nights… sometimes.

“I’ll drive you home when we’re done.”

“Thanks,” Steve said and let out a little sigh. He hated being driven around, it made him feel like a child. A car meant freedom. Independence. Not being beholden to anyone.

Eddie nudged him with his shoulder. “What’s up?”

“I just really need my own car, man.”

Eddie looked over at him. “You’ve been saving for a while. Think you’re close?”

Steve thought about his bank account, how slowly it was increasing with the crappy pay from Family Video. He should ask Robin for more shifts, she really needed to fire that idiot who kept calling in sick on her.

“Getting there,” he replied.

When they were done with the dishes, Eddie asked him to wait a few minutes. He went into his room, so Steve went and sat with Wayne while he waited.

“He laughs more with you around, ya know?” Wayne said suddenly and Steve looked over at him with surprise.

“He does?”

Wayne nodded and took a sip of his beer. “It’s good, what you’re doin’ with the trailer. Good for Eddie. Good for you too, I think. Ask for help if you need it, yeah?”

Wayne was looking at him intently and Steve couldn’t help but fidget.

“We will,” Steve replied and looked away from his heavy gaze.

“Not just about the trailer.”

Steve slowly turned back and met Wayne’s eyes. There was something in them, that same look that he and Eddie shared. Loss and survival. Darkness and wisdom. He was viscerally reminded that Eddie had died. That Wayne had thought Eddie was dead. He still didn’t know the whole story. Eddie had explained a bit… but he knew there was more. Steve nodded slowly and Wayne must have accepted whatever was on his face because he gave a decisive nod back just as Eddie walked into the room.

“Ready to go?” Eddie asked, wiggling his keys

“Yup,” Steve said and stood up. “Bye Wayne, thanks again.”

“Steve,” Wayne said and dipped his head.

He was quiet on the drive home, thinking about The Upside Down and Vecna and how much pain they had caused the people of Hawkins. Steve knew his loss was great, but that didn’t mean he could ignore everyone else’s. He needed to talk to Dustin and find some way for them to move forward. They had both lost a brother and they might never be that to each other again…but –  

They could be.

It was something that had always struck Steve as odd whenever they discussed Other Steve – how despite all the changes with himself, Robin, Eddie, Joyce, Hopper, Nancy and Jonathan, with Vecna, Hawkins and the world – the kids were the same. Who he was to the kids was the same. At least in this universe. And what were the odds of that? Fucking astronomical if he had to guess. He just needed Dustin to understand that even if they did share those memories, he was a different person now.

He also needed to talk to Eddie. Ask him about what happened to him, or at least let him know that he was open to talking if he wanted to. Eddie had told him that he thought he could understand what Steve had gone through. Which meant the opposite was true and he could understand Eddie, too. Steve glanced over at him from the corner of his eye. He had the radio on and he was humming and drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. They were almost to his place so now wasn’t the time, but he resolved that when he saw Eddie next, he would ask him if he wanted to talk about The Upside Down and what had happened to them.

They turned onto Steve’s street and he could see Hopper, Joyce, Will and Eleven were all standing outside like they were waiting for him. Eddie slowed down as he approached and parked the car on the curb in front of the house. Sitting in the driveway was a maroon 1983 BMW. His car. Steve stared at it unmoving. It gleamed in the sunlight, chrome flashing.

“That’s my car,” he said to himself, still staring at it like it was a mirage that would disappear if he let it out of his sight.

Eddie chuckled and said, “yup! Gunna go get it or just keep sitting in my decrepit van?”

Steve unbuckled his belt and slowly opened the door. Will and Eleven ran over to meet him, each grabbing one of his hands and pulling him towards Hopper and Joyce.

“Your parents had it in storage,” Hopper explained. “I called them about it months ago to see how I could go about getting it for you but they never called me back. They only just reached out because they heard you’re back in Hawkins.”

Steve froze as panic rose with frightening force throughout his body. His parents knew he was in Hawkins. He did not want to see them. He couldn’t see them. Hopper must have seen the panic on his face because he rushed over and put a hand on his shoulder. His heart was still beating fiercely, adrenaline rushing through him as he tried to calm his fight or flight response.

“They’re not coming back here, Steve. They just had some questions.”

Steve swallowed hard. “Questions about me?”

Hopper nodded. “They wanted to know where you went.”

“What did you tell them?”

“That it was none of their business.”

“I can’t afford it,” Steve said quietly. “Whatever you paid my parents for it, I can’t pay you back.”

“I didn’t pay anything for it.”

Steve reared back in shock. That wasn’t possible. His parents would never give something away for free… his actual parents wouldn’t anyway and from everything he had learned about Other Steve’s parents they were just as bad as his were.

“How?” Steve managed to ask.

“It’s in your name. When you were listed as a missing person your parents took ownership but with you back, they had to give it up.” There was an or else that Hopper left hanging in the air. “All yours,” he said holding out the keys. “No strings attached.”

Steve stared at them, unsure how to respond to such kindness. Hopper was making it sound like it was an easy simple thing he had done, but Steve knew it wasn’t. He knew that Hopper probably had to yell and threaten and pull all his weight as chief to get his parents to do the right thing. And even then, Steve was surprised he had managed to convince them.

“Go ahead, Steve,” Joyce said softly from Hopper’s side. “Take it for a drive.”

Will and Eleven tugged at his hands. “Can we come?” Will asked.

Steve smiled, happiness unfurling in his chest like a flower seeing the sun after days and days of rain. He had a car! And not just any car. His car. It felt like the whole world had opened for him. No more asking permission, no more waiting for anyone else to be ready. He could leave whenever he wanted. Go wherever he wanted. Do whatever he wanted.

“Kids, let Steve go–” Joyce began but Steve cut her off.

“Of course, you can!”

They both shrieked and ran for the car, a scuffle breaking out over who would get the front seat. Will reached it first but when he went to open the door, Eleven blinked and the lock clicked back into place.

“No fair!” Will exclaimed.

“Shot gun.” Eleven said firmly and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Thank you,” Steve said as he took the keys from Hopper who nodded and clapped his shoulder again.

Joyce kissed his cheek and said, “you’re welcome.”

He looked at the keys in his hand and another huge grin broke out on his face as he noticed the Scoops Ahoy keychain. Eddie came up to his side and wordlessly held out a cassette tape. Steve took it and turned it over, looking for the band name but it was blank.

“It’s a mix tape,” Eddie filled in, looking a little sheepish. “A side for good days. B side for bad days.”

Steve felt his smile soften. It was a thoughtful gift. A mixtape could say a lot about a person. He was curious what Eddie would choose for good days and bad days and was looking forward to listening to it – to learning more about him.

“Thanks, Eddie.”

Eddie waved him off, his cheeks tinted red.

Joyce pushed him towards his car. Steve slid into the driver’s seat, and waited for the kids to get in and put on their seat belts before he backed out of the driveway. He waved at Hopper, Joyce and Eddie as they passed.

They all rolled their windows down and Steve put Eddie’s tape in the player.

On the A side.

Part 18

@just-a-tiny-void @mx-jinxous @child-of-cthulhu @awholedamnmesstbh @phoenix0bird @bookworm0690 @estrellami-1 @hbyrde36 @a-gae-af-racoon @novelnovella @meela86 @lenathegay @vampireinthesun @penny00dreadful @questionablequeeries @espressopatronum454 @r0binscript @seths-rogens @fruity-nerd @sani-86 @n0-1-important @swimmingbirdrunningrock @ellietheasexylibrarian @manda-panda-monium @paintsplatteredandimperfect @viridianphtalo @goodolefashionedloverboi @13catastrophic-blues @newtstabber @tinytalkingtina @whole-moods @queenie-ofthe-void

@nailbatanddungeon So sorry I missed your name change a few chapters ago!!

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #multiverse #angst with a happy ending #the last steve harrington #slow burn

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Right Place in Time

Summary: What if Steve was in the woods with Chrissy and Eddie getting weed for his headaches?

@disrespectedgoatman @estrellami-1 @darkrose517 @panicatthediaz @mandriice @nightmareglitter @ilikeititspretty

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four - Chapter Five - Chapter Six - Chapter Seven - Chapter Eight - Chapter Nine - Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

There had been a lot of arguing, but everyone agreed that the younger teens needed to stay at the Byers' house while the older teens searched the area around the lake.

"It's my goddamn theory!" Dustin had complained.

'We can't be worrying about you guys while also searching the lake for a gate," Steve said, shutting it down. "Please."

Pleading with him had done the trick, and Dustin had shut up. Chrissy had agreed to stay there with Max and Vickie.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked softly.

"Yeah, she needs someone to be here for her who's also going through it," Chrissy replied, and then she raised her cast. "Plus, I have this."

Steve had cupped her face and kissed her deeply before releasing her into Eddie's open arms. He had watched in amusement as Eddie dipped her and kissed her soundly. Suddenly, Max pulled him aside.

"You remember that you're cursed too, right?" Max asked.

"Yeah, of course. Kind of hard to forget," he said, pointing to his head phones.

"It's sometimes you spend so much time taking care of everyone else that you forget to take care of yourself," Max said.

"Max. . . ," Steve trailed off.

"Please, take care of yourself," she paused. "I need my big brother to come back to me."

"Yeah, okay," Steve said, struggling not to cry. "Of course."

Max threw herself into his arms, hugging him tightly. Meanwhile, behind them Frank started to sniffle.

"She called him her brother!" Frank said.

"Oh, come on, don't this to me. If you start crying, I'm going to start crying, and then Gareth starts crying. We all know what he's like when he cries!" Jeff exclaimed.

"Eddie, there's something wrong with your - nevermind," Max sighed.

To Steve’s amusement, Eddie was crying softly into Chrissy's shoulder. How can anyone think that they're mean and scary? They were all a bunch of softies. Steve laughed and hugged Max tightly, pressing a kiss into his sister's hair. She huffed and rolled her eyes before pulling away.

"Okay, so it's me, Eddie, Robin, and Nancy then?" Steve asked.

"And you're taking us as backup just in case you guys run into Jason," Jeff said, nodding at Frank and Gareth.

"My noble brethren!" Eddie grinned. "Knights of the Round Table! My sturdy protectors - !"

"Enough, boy," Wayne rolled his eyes. "I suppose I should stay here since I have the other gun."

"We'll be back before we know it," Eddie said cheerfully and hugged his uncle tightly. "I mean, before you know it."

"Stay safe," Wayne said softly.

"You too," Eddie said.

Eddie whistled for everyone to gather around, yanking people into a group hug. Chrissy was giggling under Eddie's other armpit.

"Feels very much like when we huddle during a basketball game," Steve said sharing a grin with Lucas.

"This is not a sports game, Steve," Dustin grinned.

"I beg to differ," Eddie said with a wide smile. "What are we going to do?!"

Blank stares blinked at him, and Eddie rolled his eyes. He whispered into Chrissy's ear, and she smiled before whispering to the next person, then the next. Everyone smiled.

"Okay, so, what are we going to do?" Eddie asked again.

"Kick Vecna's ass!" Everyone exclaimed.

"And break!" Eddie yelled, clapping his hands.

As Steve was moving away from the group, he felt a pair of hands slap his ass. He turned around to find Chrissy and Eddie grinning at him.

"Good game," she said and giggled.

"Stop objectifying our babysitter in front of us!" Dustin said.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself," Chrissy said.

"Neither could I," Eddie grinned.

They decided it would be easier to just use Nancy's car, which meant everyone climbing in the front of her car while Eddie and Steve climbed into the very back. Just as Steve was about to climb into the back seat, Lucas and Dustin came out.

"We just wanted to tell you to be careful," Lucas said.

"All of you," Dustin said.

"Both of you have kind of been like brothers to us," Lucas said. "Especially, you Steve."

"And we don't want anything to happen to you," Dustin said.

Steve pulled Dustin and Lucas into a tight hug before releasing them to let Eddie to do the same.

"Keep an eye out for each other," Steve said.

"We always do," Dustin said.

Robin popped her head out the window with a cheeky grin on her face.

"And remember, bedtime at 9, kiddos!" Robin said, laughing when Dustin flipped her off.

"And no parties! Grandpa Wayne will tell us all about it once we get back," Eddie said.

Lucas rolled his eyes as Steve laughed, grabbing Dustin and pushing him inside. Eddie climbed into the back and pulled Steve with him, pulling him in between his legs. Eddie closed the door.

"Alright, let's go!" Eddie hollered and pulled Steve back against his chest.

Steve smiled as Eddie scratched his stomach as he wrapped his arms around him.

"It's weird without Chrissy," Steve said.

"Yeah," Eddie said softly. "Do you miss your parents?"

"Uh, yeah," Steve said as he played with the rings on Eddie's fingers. "Why are you asking?"

"I was just thinking about Wayne, my dad, and my mom," Eddie shrugged. "Is it still crazy that I miss my dad after everything he put me through?"

"No, I think we never stop missing our parents even after they're long gone or after they left," Steve said. "Plus, I think you have a big heart, and you love deeply. It's probably why it hurts so much when you get, well, hurt."

"Talking from experience, big boy?" Eddie asked softly.

"Yeah," Steve replied.

"Does it bother you that they left you for Florida?" Eddie asked. "Your parents, I mean."

"No. It's what they've always wanted to do after they retire. Why would I be mad for them doing something that they wanted to do for a long time?" Steve asked. "We both made our choices."

"That's either really healthy behavior, or you've buried your feelings so deep that it's become unhealthy," Eddie said.

"Jesus. I mean, what do you want me to do? You want me to get mad right now? It's not going to do anything," Steve said. "It's not going to be very helpful."

"I want you to be honest with yourself and admit that you wished that they had stayed for you," Eddie said. "That you wished you had asked them to stay."

"Okay! Okay! Fine! I wished they had stayed! I wished they had chosen me over their careers for once or what they had wanted! I wished they were here and I wish that they knew that I might fucking - that I might. . . that I might die," Steve said weakly.

He turned and sobbed into Eddie's chest. Eddie held him tightly, running his fingers through his hair.

"Oh, baby," Eddie said softly.

"I'm scared. I don't want to die. I don't want to leave Robin, I don't want to leave the kids, I don't want to leave you or Chrissy," Steve sobbed. "I don't want to leave."

As Steve cried, he heard the sound of the others cursing and the sound of people moving around. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his back. He looked up to find that Robin had climbed in the back with them.

"Steve?" Robin asked.

"I think it's finally hitting him," Eddie said softly.

"Oh. . .," Robin paused. "I think I might have accidentally kicked Nancy in the face when I was climbing over the seats."

Steve snorted with laughter and pulled Robin into his arms, hugging her tightly. Now, they were both lying awkwardly on top of Eddie.

"I'm scared, Robbie," Steve said in a small voice.

"Me too, Stebie," Robin said. "We won't let anything happen to you, dingus."

Steve, Eddie, and Robin groaned as they rolled out of the back when Nancy pulled up to Lover's Lake. It had been very uncomfortable with all three of them in the back. Nancy stood at the edge of the lake with Dustin's compass in her hand.

"Your face okay, Nance?" Robin asked.

"I've had worse," Nancy said in amusement. "You were checking on your best friend. Are you okay, Steve?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. So, the compass?" Steve asked.

"Dustin's definitely onto something," Nancy said as she frowned at the compass. "There's definitely a gate here. I think it's inside the lake."

"They did say they found Patrick's body in the lake," Steve frowned.

"We need to find a boat," Jeff said.

"Well, we're by a lake, so there's a possibility there might be one lying around here somewhere," Frank said.

"You think, Frank?" Gareth asked sarcastically.

The group began to move around the edge of the lake, using the moonlight streaming through the trees to light their way. They did bring flashlights, but they didn't want to use them in case it gave away their position. Jason was still on the loose. They found one lying close to the shore, making it easy to push into the water. Steve and Eddie held it down, so it was easier to get into the boat. Steve held out his hand to help Robin into the boat, but she just grinned. Steve groaned as Robin used his head and Eddie's to get into the boat. Eddie just laughed.

"Seriously?" Steve asked.

Nancy giggled at Steve as Eddie helped her onto the boat. Eddie held out his hand to Steve with a grin, and Steve blushed as he took it, getting into the boat. Eddie jumped in and turned to the others.

"What about you, boys?" Eddie asked.

"We'll stay and guard the shore, m'lord," Frank said.

"For not all of us will fit on the boat," Jeff said.

"Safe passage, return to us and our Lady of Hellfire," Gareth said.

The three of them bowed, and Steve laughed when Eddie could only nod, waving his hand at them.

"Nerd," Steve said affectionately.

"Dork," Eddie giggled as he brushed his nose against Steve’s.

They pushed the boat to the middle of the lake, and the compass started going haywire. Steve stood up.

"What are you doing?" Nancy asked.

"Someone has to go down there to make sure," he said.

"And it has to be you?" Eddie asked.

"Anyone else on the swim team or work as a lifeguard for three summers?" Steve asked and paused. "No? It has to be me."

"Is there anything that I can say or do to talk you out of this?" Eddie asked, and Steve shook his head. "Ooh, what if I offer to give you - "

"No!" Robin and Nancy yelled at him.

"I was going to say give him a really good kiss," Eddie said, rolling his eyes. "Jesus, get your head out of the gutter, ladies."

Steve laughed, bending down to kiss him deeply. He stood up as Eddie blushed and began wrapping a flashlight in a bag. Steve took off his socks, shoes, Walkman, and then, finally, his sweater. He could feel Eddie's eyes on him, and he smirked. He tossed the sweater at him. Eddie scoffed and handed him a flashlight.

"Be careful," Eddie said, taking his hand and kissing it. "Come back to us."

Steve knew he was talking about him and Chrissy.

"Always," Steve said, and then he dove into the water.

He started swimming down with the light guiding his way. He didn't need it for long because a moment later, a red light started coming into focus. Steve swam all the way down and came face to face with the gate itself. A weird feeling came over him, a feeling he couldn't quite describe. He held out his hand toward it, a move that he knew was stupid. Suddenly, he saw some move underneath the slimy red skin of the gate, and he swam backward. Steve was quick, and he started moving back towards the boat. He resurfaced, gasping as he breathed in the fresh hair and held onto the boat. Eddie looked relieved.

"Yeah, there's a gate down there, but it's not a full sized gate. It's more like a snack sized gate - woah!" Steve exclaimed when he felt something brush against him.

"What?" Eddie asked. "What is it?"

"I thought I felt - "

Suddenly, something wrapped around his ankle and pulled him down beneath the water. Whatever it was, it was yanking down and quickly, too. Steve was moving his arms, trying to get away, but it was useless. He couldn't fight against whatever was trying to pull him away from everything and everyone he ever loved. As the darkness took him, he wondered if his parents would miss him or be relieved that he was gone. Would they even care?

Chapter Fourteen

#stranger things #stranger things s4 #eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson lives #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #chrissy cunningham x eddie munson #hellcheer #chrissy cunningham x steve harrington #cheerscoops #chrissy cunningham x steve harrington x eddie munson #hellcheerington #steddissy #bisexual eddie munson #bisexual steve harrington #bisexual chrissy #bi4bi4bi #stranger things fanfiction

[xirayn]

dunno if you are still taking prompts buuuuut what about jonathan seeing steve’s scars from the demobats for the first time

I am always up for a prompt, even if it takes me some time to get to it done.

The sun has bronzed Steve's skin, enhancing the pale webs of scar tissue stretched over his sides and fanning out over his shoulder blades. Jonathan keeps stealing glances as they sit together watching Will and his friends play in the lake. His eyes trace the edges, watch how the droplets of water from Steve's earlier swim trail around them.

Steve must feel himself being watched because he turns his attention from Lucas trying to push Dustin off the floating dock to Max's annoyed reprimands. El is sitting beside her, watching in confused fascination as Will attempts to explain the enigma that is teenage boys. Mike splashes them on his way back into the fray.

"See something you like?" Steve teases and it is easy for Jonathan to roll his eyes to pretend he doesn't. Steve laughs. "It's okay. I know its hard not to stare at the scars. At least they're easier to cover than Eddie's."

There is a hint of stilted unease in Steve's voice, a touch of sadness from someone still adjusting to being marred so noticably. It somehow prompts Jonathan to move closer so he can run his fingers over the stretched tissue. Steve doesn't flinch or pull away. Jonathan continues to touch, resisting the urge to lean in and explore the texture with his lips and tongue.

"I do, um, see something I like," he ventures as a means of testing the water.

They've been dancing around each other all summer since he and Nancy broke up and Argyle went home to California. Jonathan doesn't have a lot of friends, so he ended up hanging out with Steve. Robin was there if she wasn't with Nancy, the break up was mutual but being around her is still awkward, and Eddie showed up more often than not in the time between being released from the hospital and moving to Chicago.

"Yeah?" Steve turns just his head so Jonathan doesn't have to stop touching.

"I mean- I see you."

Steve laughs. "That's a good line, Byers."

"It's the truth." The tips of Jonathan's ears redden along with his cheeks. He decides to take a risk. "I'd like to see more of you."

Steve considers him for a long moment. Jonathan hopes he hasn't misread the lingering glances or casual contact or playful banter.

"I think we can do that. Movie at my place?" Steve's smile takes on an impish quality. "You can see all of me."

"Subtle."

Steve chuckles. Out on the dock, Mike gets thrown back in the water. El stops from being splashed with a thrown up hand. It's good to see her using her powers for something so simple rather than running from unmarked cars and agents or saving the world.

"Says the guy feeling me up." When Jonathan starts to pull his hand away, but Steve catches his wrist. He shifts and places Jonathan's hand on the fork of the faint line around his neck. "I didn't say I minded."

The laughter and jeers from the dock keep Jonathan from taking the opportunity to kiss Steve. His thumb strokes over the mark. He can feel Will watching them. He's too caught on the way Steve's eyes move down to his lips to look, though.

Steve smirks then stands up. He grabs his shirt and slips on his sandals.

"Hey, Brat Pack! Jonathan are going to grab a pizza," he yells out. "No becoming the dumb kids in a slasher movie while we're gone."

They walk to the car with a variety of objections and corrections following them. Neither listen as their hands occassionally brush. Their cars are parked up a trail on the side of a quiet road. After checking their surroundings with a quick glance around, Steve caught Jonathan by the waist to pull him into a kiss. It wasn't much more than a caress of lips, but it felt like everything.

"Do you think any will deliver out here?" Steve asks with a quirk of his lips.

"No." Jonathan strokes his knuckles over Steve's side. "My place isn't far, though, and they'll definitely deliver there."

Steve laughs and takes another quick kiss before responding, "Subtle."

#stonathan #send me more prompts #steve harrington #jonathan byers

[byler-makemewanttobelieveitsokay]

Chapter Two - fic

here's the second chapter to make up for the lack of drawings. I'll start the drawings again once I've found my bloody pencil!

The afternoon sun reflects off of the lake. Under the shade of a tree lie Will and Mike. As predicted, El and Max have pulled a disappearing act. They said hi, ate cookies and left. Since then, Will had maybe fallen asleep… he's awake now though and Mike takes this opportunity to attempt to make conversation.

"Where did Jane and Max go?" 

Will's eyes snap open.

"Oh uh…"

He doesn't really want to know what they're up to. Whatever it is, it's bound to be irresponsible.

"They're probably causing trouble somewhere." He replies, rolling his eyes.

On the other side of the park, El stands on the platform over the lake. Suspended in mid air is Max. El is hovering the red-headed girl dangerously close to the railing. One wrong move and Max will get an unplanned bath. But Max isn't worried. She can feel the breeze in her hair, this is probably the weirdest sensation on earth.

"This is sick!!!" She yells, flailing her arms and legs a bit.

El stares up at her with a grin of adoration. She isn't supposed to use her powers in public, but seeing Max in this state of exhilaration makes El forget all about rules. If she can make Max laugh then it's worth risking her secret.

"Do you think they have realised yet?" El asks as Max rolls over in the air.

"Mike and Will? Of course not." 

"But how can you forget your best friend?" Asks El, she could never forget Max, the feeling of being someone's best friend is so special.

"They were only kids El, then Will moved schools, and we never saw him again." Max reminds her. 

"But they were best friends!" El repeats. She just doesn't understand.

"They were also five years old, and the lab interfered with Will's memory." 

El supposes that's a valid reason. The lab did mess with them a lot. She's glad she and Will took care of it. El will be eternally grateful to Lucas Sinclair’s dedication to finding his missing friend. If it weren’t for Lucas, she and Will would still be 011 and 012. Abducted. Test subjects.

"The lab's full of mouth-breathers."

***

"So, what's your family like?" Mike asks Will, sitting cross-legged on the grass. "I know Jane a little bit, but like, who else is there?" 

Will sits up, this is a bit of a complex discussion. The Hopper/Byers family is far from normal, despite the appearance from the outside. Will takes a deep, calming breath, if he’s going to lie his way through this, he needs a clear mind.

"Well there's my mom, Joyce, she's getting married in a couple months." Will begins. He leaves out the part where his mom was a part of a top-secret government project.

"Then there's Lonnie. He's my…" Will pauses, despite what his birth certificate says, Lonnie isn't related to him really at all. Maybe you'd call him a stepfather? "He's Jonathan's dad." Will decides not to elaborate. Lonnie Byers doesn’t deserve elaboration. He was far from a nice person, he sold his legal kid to an evil government program and that’s only the tip of the iceberg!

Mike frowns, why do those names feel familiar? Lonnie? Joyce? 

"Then there's Jim Hopper, chief of police, he's… Jane's dad." Will decides this is an adequate description. He conveniently leaves out the part where Jim is also his father. Will Byers will just have to remain fatherless. That's probably okay, considering he’s had three different “fathers” and he’s not even fifteen yet.

"Jonathan's my half brother, technically, but he's the best big brother in the world. He's four years older than me." Will smiles as he tells Mike this. Man he really loves Jonathan. Will couldn’t ask for a better older brother.

Once again Mike's brow furrows. He knows this name too and he's the right age. Maybe… no, surely not. His childhood best friend was long gone.

"Jane's my… step sister…" He trails off. That's an outright lie. Jane Elle Hopper, known to few as 011 and fewer as simply El, is his twin sister. She's also a month older than him. Thanks Hawkins National Laboratory! Will's family tree looks more like a family plate of spaghetti.

"I thought you and Jane were twins!" Mike exclaims.

Shit.

"Um… no. Ha ha… it's just a weird coincidence." Will attempts to brush Mike off. That's enough about his family. It's too difficult to try not to accidentally leak top secret FBI information. He really doesn’t feel like dodging murder today. He’s had quite enough of that for one lifetime, thank you very much! 

"What about your dad?" Mike will not be brushed off. He's determined to find out more about Will. He doesn't know why, but Mike seems to be drawn in by this odd, cute boy. And if his crazy hunch is correct, he knows more than he thinks…

Mike wonders if Will's anything like Jane. Although, judging by the fact he fell asleep in the middle of the park, at four o'clock in the afternoon, Mike would guess the step siblings' likeness ends at looks. Jane seems to be a ball of energy, always up to something. 

"Umm… I don't really know." Will mumbles. Is he aware that's a half assed excuse? Yes. Can he be bothered to do mental gymnastics to try and explain his existence? Absolutely not. He’s tired. Sue him.

Mike shrugs, whatever then, maybe it's a sensitive topic to Will. He decides to change the subject. Mike launches into describing his own family to Will.

"My parents are divorced. I spend the weekdays at my mom's house and the weekends and school holidays at my dad's." Mike begins. His mom is definitely his favourite, she’s distant, but at least she doesn’t sigh at every choice Mike makes, unlike his dad.

Will looks at him with interest, perhaps his own story isn't quite so unbelievable after all. If Mike's a child of divorce, surely he understands how many different kinds of families there are. Mike goes on to tell Will more about his mom's place.

"My mom's house is my favourite. Dad's place might be bigger, but it's colder, less welcoming. My Mom's house is close to Dustin’s. Dad's is next-door to Lucas's." 

Next door to Lucas's? Will knew he'd visited the house next-door to Lucas's as a child. It was one of the few things he remembered from before the lab. Mike continues to tell Will about his background.

"I have two sisters as well, Nancy and Holly. Nancy's a senior at Hawkins Grammar and Holly's starting at Hawkins elementary soon."

"Nancy?" Will mutters in thought, he definitely knew that name. Nancy was his friend's older sister, the same age as Jonathan. He screws up his face in an attempt to fill in the gaps of his fractured, tampered memories.

“Nancy’s a detective extraordinaire, she just started working at Hawkins Post! And Holly’s–” 

Will isn’t listening anymore. It’s not that he’s not interested in Mike’s sisters, Will’s sure he’d love to hear all about them, but he’s just had a major realisation. This is actually groundbreaking! If Will’s correct at least. 

"Mike, are you… is your last name Whe… Wheeler?"

Mike's face lights up! He looks relieved.

"Yes! And you've gotta be Will Byers!"

Mike stares at Will in anticipation. He hopes to God he's right! But Mike's sure he can't be wrong. The green eyes. Joyce, Lonnie and Jonathan. 

"Will Hopper in a couple months," Will begins, "but yes, technically Will Byers." 

Mike can barely contain the excitement! After ten long years, he's reconnecting with his first friend. Who knows, maybe after a decade of wondering and searching, he'll finally learn about the Vanishing of Will Byers!

Will can remember! He can actually remember something from before that year he spent with El and the other kids in the lab! He remembers a whole person even! Oh man, this is incredible! The most he’d ever been able to remember was fractions, half memories, pieces of his past. It was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, trying to remember the first six years of his life. If he can remember who Mike is, maybe he’ll even be able to remember other things too. 

“Oh my– hi Will!” Mike giggles, as though they haven’t been sitting next to each other for the last half hour.

“Hi Mike.” Will chuckles back.

Links:

Chapter One fic Next

Chapter One Comic

Current Comic Update

#highschool au #make me want to believe it's okay #byler #byler fic #el byers #willel siblings #will byers #max mayfield #mike wheeler #byler fanart #mmwtbio #platonic madwheeler #platonic elmike #platonic madcleric #platonic elmax #modern au #the hopper-byers family #will hopper #el hopper #jane hopper #will byers has powers #willel #011 #012 #will byers is twelve #willel twins #will has powers #twelvegate #willel literal twins

[grey-sides]

oh that’s great to hear! i was looking through the prompt list from a while back and the angst prompt #11 ‘are you ashamed of me’ screamed harringrove, and i’d love to see what you do with that :)

Hi anon, thank you for requesting!! If you would like this noggin to respond to a prompt, check out the list here and submit one! This is definitely angsty with some warnings for implied child abuse/neglect. And implied homophobia/internalized hemophobia. Please take care of yourselves!

They always meet at the quarry, at night, headlights turned off so no one gets suspicious. Steve had offered, months ago, to climb into Billy’s window, but Billy had shut that shit down real quick. He didn’t care how much like a ninja Steve was, Neil was too observant to ever risk it. So they meet down at the quarry.

But the problem is, Steve thinks that means this is the only place they interact. Like, sometimes Steve will wave when he sees Billy at the same time they’re picking up the kids. He might say hi or ask how Billy’s weekend was like he doesn’t already know. But the quarry is their spot. Billy doesn’t know Steve’s address even. 

Billy pulls up beside Steve’s BMW, the lights are off and the engine is killed and he’s just sitting in there. He’s probably looking out at the lake, getting all sentimental because that’s the kind of guy Steve Harrington is. 

Sentimental as hell, but won’t even take him to a movie to hold hands in the dark where no one can see them. No, the quarry is the only place they can meet up apparently. 

Billy takes a moment, digging out a cigarette to light it perfunctorily. He drags the smoke in deep, staring up at the night sky through his windshield. Steve won’t come over here, he never does. Billy doesn’t get it, Wheeler loves to talk about how clingy Steve can be when she gets drunk. But Steve isn’t clingy with Billy, he’s just…doing this for the sex. 

Billy is supposed to be okay with it, having told Steve that he was okay with it. But it’s starting to weigh on him. What are they really doing anyway? Steve could be swimming in pussy, but he’s fucking Billy and why? For how long? 

Billy tosses his cigarette out the window and climbs out of the car to stamp it into the dirt. He scuffs his boots against the dirt and roughly fixes his jacket. He doesn’t bother to smooth his hair or his eyebrows. He doesn’t care how he looks.

Steve looks surprised when Billy pulls open his door harshly. Billy slides into the seat and slams it closed, crossing his arms. 

“Hey, you alright?” Steve asks, already leaning over the center console, one hand reaching out. 

To do what? Caress Billy’s cheek? To check him for signs of a fight? It doesn’t matter. Billy slaps the hand away. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” Billy demands and it’s not what he wanted to say. He wanted to snap at Steve to fuck him good. He wanted to tell Steve he’s moved on. He wanted anything but this. This is…treading into feeling’s territory.

Steve blinks and pulls back, the light in his car snaps off and they’re plunged into darkness again. “What?” he asks, shaking his head. 

“Are you ashamed of me?” Billy repeats and he turns to look at Steve. He can’t quite see him in the dark of the car, but he probably has a dumb look on his face. His lips are probably parted and his eyebrows are all scrunched up the way they get when he’s working through a hard problem. Billy shouldn’t find it cute. 

“Billy I don’t…” Steve trails off and he turns the car on. He doesn’t flick on the headlights but he does reach up to punch the light on, so they can see each other. He looks exactly like Billy predicted. 

Billy looks away, crossing his arms like a fucking girl or something. Like he wants King Steve to define the relationship. “It just sure seems like you are. Like we can’t even be friends. Like even just knowing me in public is gonna tarnish your reputation.”

Hell, even fucking Byers says more words to him on a daily basis. They sit next to each other in English class and he’ll ask Billy about the assignments and compare notes and complain about Shakespeare. Steve won’t even catch his eye in the cafeteria. 

Steve’s mouth snaps shut and he looks away too, down at his steering wheel. His shoulders hunch a little more because he’s always fucking slouching. His jacket crinkles when he moves his arms. “I’m not ashamed of you,” he finally whispers. 

“Then why the fuck can’t we be friends in public, Harrington?” Billy demands and he’s resorted to calling Steve by his last name because he doesn’t deserve to hear his first name coming from Billy’s mouth. 

Steve shrugs and he lifts his hands helplessly. Like he doesn’t know the answer to that. Like he hasn’t been the one drawing this line, creating this boundary. “Because you- your dad. And my dad.”

Billy doesn’t think Harrington Senior is as bad as Neil. Steve has never once shown up with bruises, but Billy thinks he’s worse in some ways. Neil will hit Billy and when he’s done, he’ll stroke his face and tell him he does it out of love. He’ll buy him gifts and hug him and if they win a basketball game, he’ll even say he’s proud. Neil is a monster. But Harrington Senior…

Billy doesn’t know. He probably shouldn’t assume. But the way Steve drives those kids around and hangs around until the last possible minute. Not looking to go home, Billy can guess. He thinks Steve has a big house and not enough love to fill it. He’s aware that Steve tends to run off well before the cops can even think about showing up to a party. Billy thinks. Well. Steve has said his dad is a Grade A Asshole before. 

“You’re friends with Jonathan,” Billy mutters because he doesn’t know what else to say. “And that doesn’t bother your dad.”

Steve’s jaw clenches and Billy can watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard. “He doesn’t like it, but Jonathan has Nancy.” 

Steve swallows again and when he opens his mouth, his voice is a little thick. “But you don’t have a Nancy. And neither do I. And my dad…fuck.” He presses the heels of his palms to his eyes. “It’s so stupid, I’m supposed to be lucky Steve Harrington with all the money and the hair and the girls and my dad thinks I’m a fucking fairy and he’s right.”

Billy’s heart sinks because he’s always so caught up in himself. In the way Neil will react. In moving across the country because Max let a little something slip. Steve’s life seems so idyllic that he’s almost forgotten what it might be like on the other side. 

“Shit, pretty boy, I’m sorry,” Billy mutters and he turns to look at Steve again. “I just…felt like you don’t want anyone to think we’re friends.”

Steve nods a little and pulls his hands away. He crosses his arms across his chest, wrapping his fingers around his biceps. “We can find a middle ground,” he decides quietly. “Because I’m not ashamed of you. But I just want to make it these next two years until I can get out of Hawkins.”

Billy pauses for a second, swallowing whatever dumb shit he was about to say. Two years? Steve was graduating in a few months. 

“Why two years?”

“Because then you can go with me.” 

Billy sucks in a sharp breath and nods, he looks down at his hands. Slowly, he lifts one of them and reaches over to put his hand on Steve’s knee. He squeezes it tight and breathes out. “A middle ground.”

Steve places his hand on top of Billy’s and it’s shaking just a little. He squeezes it in return and gives him a tight smile. “We can be friends. You just can’t come over to mine either. Even if you’re a ninja.”

Billy gives him a tight smile in return and leans over to press a kiss to Steve’s forehead. “Good. I’m sitting next to you at lunch on Monday.”

Steve grabs hold of Billy’s chin to pull him in for a long kiss. He reaches up with the hand that had been on Billy’s to turn off the light. “Then I won’t have to miss you so much,” he whispers. 

Billy sighs into the kiss and leans over the console and not everything is fixed. But he has a deadline now and he has Steve’s promise to find a middle ground and it’s enough. It has to be. 

#harringrove #greye writes #drabble #cw implied abuse #cw implied neglect #steve harrington #billy hargrove #stranger things

[toomanybandstocare]

I just wanna go camping with Johnathan Byers, is that too much to ask😖

Share a hammock over looking the lake while he reads a book out loud.

Cozying up with him in front of the camp fire.

Joking tiffs on deciding which mixtape to play while hiking.

Throwing pieces of trail mix for each other to poorly catch.

Zipping our sleeping bags together so they make one big one to snuggle into for the night and cuddle.

Singing along to your favorite artists driving to and from the campsite.

Stealing his flannel to wear to bed.

Where’s Johnathan when I’m prepping for my camping trip. 😭

#jonathan byers #johnathan byers thoughts #johnathan byers headcannons #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #counselor mythos post #camp halfwit bulletin post

[parcel52-blog]

Travel Thunder Bay BLOG

Thunder Bay Ontario! It is located in Northwest Ontario; Surrounded by nature, there is so many things to do in see in this beautiful city and the surrounding areas; as there is so much cultural diversity with music, arts, fashions, and foods, and so many outdoor activities any time of the year (NorthernOntarioTravel, 2023, paras 1-3).

Starting the day off at “Persian Man”; there are a few locations in Thunder Bay; a persian is like a “donut dusted with cinnamon and glazed with a raspberry icing” (McKay, 2017, paras 1-24). The Persian is an iconic part of Thunder Bay’s history, and an absolutely must try on one’s visit to Thunder Bay (Mckay, 2017, para 1).

Next is some Nature, we have “Mount Mckay”, a mountain located on the First Nations Reserve in Thunder Bay; for a small fee, this beautiful mountain gives one a full view of the beautiful city (Byers, 2020, paras 1-4). On top of the mountain, there is a scenic lookout, where one can enjoy live pow-wows that take place many times throughout the summer months( Tourism ThunderBay, 2019, paras 1-2). If one is looking for a “moderately challenging hike” Mount Mckay is perfect, as one can start directly from the look out and follow a trail, to hike to the top to get a fantastic view on the city Thunder Bay (Superior Hiking, 2023, para 2). If one is visiting Thunder Bay, Mount Mckay is a definite on the check list! (Superior Hiking, 2023, para 1).

Another fun place to stop in if one is visiting Thunder Bay in the summer months; is “Chippewa Park”; located right on Lake Superior with a fantastic view of “The Sleeping Giant”, and so much fun to have there with rides, swimming in the Lake, walking alongside the lake, camping, and much more outdoor activities to be have there, the fun never ends (Chippewa Park, N.D., paras 1-2).

All of these fun outdoor activities sure will make one hungry! If one if visiting Thunder Bay, A must try for the perfect lunch is Coney Island, a Thunder Bay long time staple (Weller, 2023, para 2). A special family recipe- perfect on cheeseburgers, hotdogs, or fries, and once onetries the sauce, they will always crave for more (Weller, 2023, para 3).

If one drives for about twenty-five minutes outside of Thunder Bay, one can visit Kakabeka Falls; a true wonder of nature (Destination Ontario, 2023, para 1).  Kakabeka falls has many trails one can walk, and many places to take pictures of the beautiful falls (Destination Ontario, 2023, para 2). Kakabeka Falls is in second place for Ontario’s largest waterfall, just after Niagara Falls (Destination Ontario, 2023, para 5).  The falls also make a perfect place to camp, as there are many locations around the falls that offer places to park the camper (Destination Ontario, 2023, para 11).

Another must- see in Thunder Bay, is the Terry Fox lookout; a historical monument with another amazing few of the city (lakesuperiorcircletour, n.d.para 1). In the 80s, Terry ran across Canada to raise money for the cancer he had; and ended up raising millions of dollars to help people such as himself,and the fundraiser still makes money to this day (Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada, n.d, para 1). The Monument has been built in 1982, and has since been re-modeled since; The monument is built in Thunder Bay, as this was the end of Terry fox’s journey (Historic Sites and Monuments Board of Canada, n.d, para 1). The Terry fox monument is one of the first things one will see while driving through Thunder Bay on Trans-Canada highway, and is also known as the “Terry Fox Memorial Highway”  so one should definitely take a stop to look at the monument, read some history about a Canadian legend, and take in a nice few of Thunder Bay.

There is one more place that is a very important part of Thunder Bay. I unfortunately did not have the time to go, but this place is called “Fort William Historical park”. There are so many things to do and see at the Fort William Historical Park; such as camping, attending festivals, seeing the historic pioneer village they have set up; listen to live music and enjoy some great foods if one is attending one of the many events held at the Fort William Historical Park In Thunder Bay (FortWilliamHistoricalPark, n.d, paras 1-2). Since I was unable to get to Fort William Historical Park, I was unable to get photos or videos. I did however, attach a few photos on my VLOG provided by the internet. It’s definitely a place to check out on your next trip to Thunder Bay.

Thank you for reading my blog, make sure to make Thunder Bay the next stop on your North West Ontario Travel Bucket List.

[ashbashsquashmabosh]

VERY last minute Stranger things theories because I have to go to work instead of watching it :[ part 1

Number 8's return??? I think she'll either come back now or in season 5 to help out.

I mean this basically certain in the show but no. 1 is using people's trauma to fuel his power, just as he told El. He told her that in order to control her power she needed to think of something that makes her sad and angry. So the more trauma he harvests probably the more powerful he'll get. They better not let him get ahold of Will Byers or he'll be sorted for world domination.

Where did Max's mother go? This isn't really a theory more of a question, because she disappeared after max saw her in a hallucination. I thought max was hallucinating vecna and she would wake up in her mother's arms again but her mom was just gone?? Maybe she was a vision for that whole interaction idk, but it's still weird to me. Max's mother is the only parent who wasn't at the big town meeting thingy, and even when the cops find max at the lake in the dark on the trail of an accused murderer, her mother isn't called even though everyone else's parents were?? I know the woman has issues but this seems excessive. I'm just worried for her because the mayfields don't need another tragedy.

I think the idea of playing a song to free someone from vecna is more about making them remember something that makes them happy. Which is actually a beautiful metaphor for overcoming the struggles of mental illness. But it is a bad thing because now the kids think they've solved it and it's going to fail them and somebody is gonna die and I'm very scared.

On the same note El might take more control over her powers by separating them from her trauma. Up to now she's only really used her powers out of anger or in defense of herself and others, excepting a couple of much smaller times, (moving robots around the room, floating a lego death star ect). I'd love to see her embrace her powers for herself, and I think we are seeing her come into herself more right now.

#stranger things #will byers #eleven #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #Steve harrington #mad max

[jetlycra1]

Denali Nationwide Park & Protect U S National Park Service

View Denali within the distance when you fly over rugged foothills and winding glaciers in Denali National Park. Your probability to play nine holes at one of many nation's northernmost golf programs. Choose from a gentle, family-friendly float to a full-day whitewater adventure. Camper buses provide transportation to those campgrounds, but solely passengers camping within the park can use these particular buses. The contact station features rest rooms, visitor information, and a small bookstore. Eielson Visitor Center is located four hours into the park on the street . It features restrooms, every day ranger-led packages in the course of the summer time, and on clear days, views of Denali and the Alaska Range. Wonder Lake and Kantishna are a six-hour bus experience from the Visitors Center.

You can even snuggles puppies and learn about the famed Iditarod Trail Sled Dog Race on the DogGoneIt Kennel Tour.

Year-round residents embody the ubiquitous common raven, his cousin the gray jay, willow ptarmigan , and acrobatic flocks of black-capped and boreal chickadees.

See what fellow park lovers need to say and share your individual stories.

Denali has a wealthy history and stays an essential place for Alaska Natives.

An anticline is where rock beds have been folded into an arch by tectonic activity, with the oldest rock beds at the center of the arch. Soar among the many treetops with the Denali Park Zipline Tour for a look at the boreal forest cover while enjoying views of the encircling mountains. Mount McKinley National Park was established as a two-million-acre park in 1917 to protect its wildlife.

Parks & Trails

Denali Princess Wilderness Lodge presents the most effective accommodations close to the Denali National Park entrance. The Denali Visitor Center is a 14,000-square-foot facility dedicated to a better understanding of Denali National Park and Preserve. On the first ground are exhibits devoted to the world's natural and human historical past and a theater with films that provide a glimpse of the park's wildlife and scenery.

Indigenous Land

The great mountain and its companion peaks are accented by spectacular valley glaciers and steep ice-carved gorges and a year-around mantle of snow and ice above 8,000 feet. These glaciers, such because the Ruth, Buskin, and Eldridge, are from 14 to 38 miles long and as a lot as four miles wide. They move from the excessive peaks and soften into the broad U-shaped Chulitna Valley, giving the Chulitna River the milky waters and braided channels which are typical of a glacial stream. Ice depths on Byers Lake could be quite variable and must be checked before assumed protected. Snow usually melts in May, although patches at larger elevations could persist into July. • Outside the park, the family-owned Denali Grizzly Bear Resort and Campground provides a variety of tent websites, cabins, and resort amenities. As spring rolls round, the frogs thaw and return to the ponds to being the breeding course of. Maybe you’ll be lucky sufficient to identify this creature while exploring Denali. The vibrant colours of an Aurora could be seen throughout the park when the phenomenon is going on. Photo of the Aurora from 2015 by Kent Miller, National Park Service.7. Dinosaur fossils are abundant in Denali’s 70 million-year-old Cantwell Formation. From right here, they can embark on the flat Savage River Loop that travels 2 miles alongside the river or climb the steep Savage Alpine Trail for 4 miles up to a ridge with sweeping views of the realm. The annual Denali Park Road Lottery allows visitors to drive their non-public vehicles on the complete Park Road on choose days in September. Most impartial travelers explore Denali by taking one of the bus tours, every of which covers varying lengths of the Park Road. You can evaluate completely different Park Road excursions to see which is best for you, but remember that you don’t have to stick with a bus. eco-friendly shopping and go solo—or use the hop-on, hop-off Park Shuttle to hike sections of the Park on your own. Go rafting, flightseeing, take a rowdy ATV tour, or tour the kennel of an Iditarod Musher.

#How Much Does A Hydroponic System Cost #how to transplant hydroponic plants #How To Mix Hydroponic Nutrients #What Size Net Pots for Hydroponics #Best reusable nappies #Can you compost bread #How Much Do Christmas Trees Cost #Is Aluminum Foil Recyclable #Is Tissue Paper Recyclable #Sustainable Furniture #eco-friendly shopping #eco-friendly food habits #eco-friendly bathroom #Eco-Friendly Home #Eco-Friendly Fashion #Eco-Friendly Gardening #Eco-friendly drink #Eco-Friendly Travel #Eco-friendly electricity and a home #eco-friendly kitchen

[thorsenmark]

An Alaska Escape in Denali State Park (Black & White) by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: A view looking across Byers Lake to the east while walking along the shoreline and Byers Lake Trail in Denali State Park. What drew me into this image, well, it was more of that peaceful, serene view with the calm lake waters and mountains, all balanced between “reality” above and reflections below. After some initial work with contrast, brightness and saturation in DxO PhotoLab 3, I made a conversion to black & white using Silver Efex Pro 2 where I made some adjustments to color filters to bring out a much richer tonal contrast for the final image.

#Alaska 2019 #Alaska Range #Alaska-Yukon Ranges #Along Lakeshore #Azimuth 79 #Black & White #Blue Skies #Byers Lake #Byers Lake Trail #Day 7 #Denali State Park #DxO PhotoLab 3 Edited #Evergreen Trees #Evergreens #Glass-like Reflections #Hayes Range #Hillside of Trees #Image Capture With Arsenal #Lake #Lake Reflections on Water #Landscape #Looking East #Mountain Peak #Mountains #Mountains in Distance #Mountains off in Distance #Mountainside #Nature #Nikon D800E #Outside

[just-wanna-travel]

Denali National Park & Preserve, Alaska, USA

#Alaska 2019 #Alaska Range #Alaska-Yukon Ranges #Along Lakeshore #Azimuth 79 #Blue Skies #Byers Lake #Byers Lake Trail #Day 7 #Denali State Park #DxO PhotoLab 3 Edited #Evergreen Trees #Evergreens #Glass-like Reflections #Hayes Range #Hillside of Trees #Image Capture With Arsenal #Lake #Lake Reflections on Water #Landscape #Looking East #Mountain Peak #Mountains #Mountains in Distance #Mountains off in Distance #Mountainside #Nature #Nikon D800E #Outside #Portfolio

[catharrington]

Continuation of this prompt fill from earlier: cream in my coffee. Tw bad bdsm practice. I have more I would like to write in this but my wips are calling my name. Enjoy this short bit that wouldn’t leave my mind alone so I had to write it down ;)

***

Honey in my tea.

The moment Steve drops into the leather seats of the Camaro, there’s a slap of denim on his arms. He’s still got his wrists spinning in his hands, around and around, like he can scrub off the memories. He looks down at the pile of jacket, looks up at Billy’s expectant face.

“Put it on,” he says. Demands it in a soft voice with no strength. Almost lost under the revving of the engine.

Steve watches for a moment, sees how those blue eyes shine as the street lights slowly flicker to life around them in the darkness. Then he shrugs on the jacket. Inch by inch, sore arms wiggling into the sleeves. Until Billy’s satisfied enough to turn back to the road.

The car ride to the Harrington home doesn’t feel long. Walking along the road alone felt like a penace, a damnation, Steve maddeningly taking the strides yet not moving anywhere. Never leaving the lake of black asphalt or the skeletal fingers of the weeds reaching around the sides to try and pull his hair. But the Camaro takes the top of the hill so fast it lifts up into the air. There’s loud and mean music playing from the radio, it hurts as much as it uncoils the tightness inside of Steve’s chest.

He’s still got tear tracks down his face, his body feeling pulled taught and then squeezed wrung out to dry. Steve pulls the collar of Billy’s jacket to stand up, uses the fabric to scrub at his face. He hopes Billy doesn’t notice.

When they pull into Steve’s driveway Billy gets out quick, jogs over to the passenger side door to get it open before Steve can. He accepts it with a pinched up brow, fights back laughing in Billy’s face. But Billy only grins as Steve walks past.

They walk up to the door together. Steve fishes out his keys and fumbles with them for a moment before slipping metal inside the lock. He doesn’t realize how close Billy’s followed him, how close he’s standing. Until Billy’s talking.

“Your parents home?” He asks.

Steve turns to him, he’s almost gone in the darkness, his color washed blue black by the moonlight, his wild sharp teeth catching most of the reflected light as he keeps his grin.

The key spins in the lock, the knob turns, they hear a sharp click, “not for another week,” Steve whispers back. There’s no lights on inside the Harrington house.

Billy doesn’t waste time. He presses his hand palm flat on the door and pushes it open. Steps right inside like he’s invited. Steve’s frozen solid, only moving to wince when Billy flicks on the hallway light, washing him in golden glow.

“Hargrove!” Steve calls after him, falling into the door. Kicks it closed behind him, drops his keys into an expensive glass bowl with a clatter. “Hargrove?”

“Har-,” he walks down the hallway, through the living room, following the trail of lights, turned into the kitchen. Steve finds him there riffling though his mother’s expensive cabinets she hired a personal interior designer to install. Their heavy wood opening then closing with a sharp click.

“Are you... looking for something?” Steve asks.

Billy keeps searching, curly hair bobbing down the line of them, until he’s at the right most cabinet and sings a little growl of a song as he pulls out a stainless steel kettle. Sets it down with a click. “Was getting worried there, thought you rich folk didn’t drink tea for a second.”

The sink comes to life as he fills the kettle with water, sloshing it around as he drops it to a stove top burner. Flicking the fire under it easily.

Steve leans himself against his kitchen bar, taking the weight off his sore legs. He bunches his shoulders up so the smell of tobacco and cologne on the denim reaches his nose better. This jacket feels nice, a part of Steve hopes Billy never asks for it back because he’d be inclined to say no.

“Billy Hargrove... why are you in my kitchen making tea?” he shakes his head with a doopy smile.

The only reply Billy gives is his short mean cackle he does. Reaches back up into the cabinet to run his stocky fingers over the neatly arranged boxes of tea. Steve tries not to look too long at the way his thighs stretch as he almost lifts to his toes, the way his muscles in his butt tighten with the effort, Steve blushes and keeps his eyes in check.

Billy sinks back down to his feet with organic farmed chamomile and a jar of expensive honey in his hands. “Remember when the Byers’ mom-,”

“Joyce,”

“Sure, back when we crawled out of the tunnels, and they showed up with that zombie boy who came back to life. She made us all tea. Sat around in a circle and sipped like little old ladies in a book club.” Billy dropped the tea bag with a wet noise. Thankfully, focusing on the kettle and not on the vulnerability growing over Steve’s brown eyes.

“Not much I don’t remember from that night, in fact I think I remember everything,” Steve says every word slowly, his eyes scanning across Billy’s back. They notice the way he stiffens.

“I haven’t had a full nights sleep in a long time.” Billy times it perfectly. Right as the kettle starts hissing he pulls it off the fire, makes the noise only as loud as an echo in the big empty house. “Seems every night I get woken by the howling inside those tunnels- inside my head.”

Billy turns around and slides a porcelain mug across the bar, steaming off the top, a silver spoon spinning around to melt a huge scoop of honey inside it. Steve cups it in his hands, the warmth thaws out his cold hands and sooths the bruises blackening on his wrists under the sleeves of his denim jacket. Billy’s denim jacket.

“What’s a fucked lay to all the monsters we’ve fought, huh, Harrington?” Billy cracks.

It feels personal, way too personal, that Billy can see into him that easily without many questions at all. But he makes Steve laugh. A soft rolling noise that builds in his chest and comes out music. His breath steadies out to the simple in and out with it, gentle when he hasn’t felt gentle in a long time.

“Thank you, Hargrove,” he says.

“Don’t mention it,” Billy tries to take a drink of his own mug, but it’s still too hot. He ends up burning himself and licking his lips like a kicked dog. “Seriously don’t mention it. To anyone,” he hisses.

Steve laughs again.

#doja cats honey in my tea playing on repeat #harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fic #my fic #harringrove fanfic #steve/billy

[screensirenfic]

Gasoline Chapter 4

The movie theatre was pretty vacant for a Saturday night, though maybe that had more to do with the fact it was Valentines weekend and most people had decided to spend it sucking face at Lovers Lake, kickstarting this years batch of pregnancy scares amongst the teenage population.  

Steve hadn’t actually asked me to be his Valentine. A stupid thing; really. I didn’t even believe in the damn holiday; just another fucking excuse to make people waste money on bad chocolates and overpriced flower arrangements. But still; he’d taken me to the movies, and I guess that was something.

The film of the weekend was The Breakfast Club; a teenage drama/comedy about five kids in detention, and already I could see similarities in the rural population of Hawkins High.

Claire was pretty, and kind of a bitch; coming across as a weird blend of Tina and Nancy that was honestly quite jarring to watch.

Andrew was Steve; a noble, dumb pretty boy of a jock, who probably was the least of a jerk off in the club, though that honestly wasn’t saying much.

Jonathan landed somewhere between Alison and Brian; combining the dark traits of social outcast with the dorky awkwardness of an all out nerd.

And Bender was...

Billy.

The more I thought about it; the closer it was.

A walking fucking stereotype of teen bad boy, down to the denim jacket.

Obnoxious, attractive, aggressive; all the traits were being ticked off the list as I began to wonder if they’d based this guy’s entire character on Hawkins resident bad boy.

Then it got to the part about cigar burns, and my popcorn did flips in my stomach.

I thought back to the bruises on Billy’s face; the change in attitude, the hunched posture-

“Hey Lo; you okay?” Steve leaned across the seat to mutter in my ear; my mind suddenly conscious that he’d been watching me instead of the movie for the past ten minutes.

“Yeah; just got lost there for a moment...” I replied, slurping loudly on my drink to try and avoid a conversation.

“Cause we can get out of here, if you want...” He offered, shifting in his seat already, ready to leave on my word.

“No; no, it’s fine. Let’s just try and enjoy the movie.” I refused, stealing another handful of Steve’s popcorn and turning my gaze back to the screen.

Steve kept staring at me for a moment, clearly not satisfied with what might’ve been going on in my head, before eventually giving up and continuing to watch the movie.

“Being bad feels pretty good; huh?”

We finished watching the movie and Steve drove me home in his BMW, humming along with Queen albums all the while.

It felt pretty normal, if not for Steve reaching across the gear stick to hold my hand in between shifts.

It was nice; really. The warm, familiar comfort of his fingers threaded through my own; thumb tracing patterns across my knuckles like this actually meant something to him.

And what was I saying?! Of course I meant something to Steve. He was my best friend, and my boyfriend, and; shit, what the hell had I got myself into?!

I cared about Steve, and I loved him pretty much more than nearly everyone I know, but was I in love with him?

I glanced across at him in the driving seat, tapping along with the beat on his steering wheel, a pretty dumb smile on his face.

I loved Steve; so why did I have to keep convincing myself of it?

When Steve finally dropped me off, I had to push a sense of foreboding down in my stomach; the reality that perhaps we were at another milestone in our relationship starting to dawn upon me.

Steve turned off the engine; the voice of Freddie Mercury cutting out, so we were left with the near silent ambiance of the woods.

“Thanks for the movie, Steve. I had fun.” I attempted to say my farewells, undoing my seatbelt to make my exit.

“Me too...” He replied; that slight crinkle in between his brows, a tell he had something on his mind.

“Come on; let me walk you to your door.” He urged, and normally I’d tell him to get fucked; not needing any of his chivalry, but tonight I decided I’d let him.

The night air outside was chilly; the last breath of winter’s snow still in the air as Steve walked me up the porch steps, me pulling my leather jacket tighter around my shoulders.

We reached the door, and I pulled my keys out of my pocket, already knowing what came next.

My dad wasn’t home, probably wouldn’t be all night, and El was over at the Byers for D’n’D night or something.

I had the cabin completely to myself.

“You know; I really meant what I said. About enjoying tonight...” Steve began; his doe eyes avoiding me for once to flit around uncertainly.

“I feel like you just genuinely get me; you know?” He continued; eyes finally daring to settle on my face as I unlocked my door.

“I know the feeling...” I concurred, though I couldn’t quite find it in myself to meet his eyes.

The door clicked open; the ridiculous amount of locks no longer a problem since dad had become more lax on the house rules, as I gently pushed it open the first inch.

I could feel Steve’s eyes on me; an unspoken question hanging in the air.

“Do you wanna come in?” I asked; ripping off the bandaid before we both died of old age.

“Yeah... Sure...” Steve nodded, looking half surprised at the offer, but following me inside regardless.

I felt self-conscious about the mess of the place, automatically going to shove the laundry basket out of sight in the bathroom, hyper aware of my pink panties sticking out of the side.

“Weird to think I’ve known you for over five years, and yet I’ve never been inside your house...” Steve commented, taking the time to look around the place like he was planning to buy it. Probably could too, knowing his family’s bank accounts.

“Probably because my dad would deck you before you even got through the door.” I joked lightheartedly, returning to Steve’s side.

It was true that my dad didn’t initially approve of Steve; thought he was a weak-armed momma’s boy who was only good at soaking up his daddy’s trust fund.

But with time and tolerance; he’d begun to like Steve, or at least appreciate the fact that he cared about me.

“Your dad coming home?” He asked, starting down a slippery slope towards a subject we’d both been avoiding for the past two months.

“Not tonight.” I confirmed, pulling off my jacket, because it had suddenly become too warm in here.

“Good.” Steve said, but before I had the chance to ask what he meant, he leaned in and kissed me hard on the mouth.

I was shocked, to be honest, not really expecting him just to lay one on me out of the blue like that.

Steve rarely kissed me as it is; some sort of residual hesitance stopping him from being openly affectionate in public. A kiss on the head, or the cheek was routine; little barely noticeable demonstrations of affection that could be passed off as displays of a close friendship. But full on making out; never.

It didn’t really feel romantic; the whole thing seeming so rushed, it was almost forced, but I tried to reciprocate regardless.

I lifted my hand to the back of Steve’s neck, tangling my fingers through thick hair as I tried my best to kiss him back.

Steve grabbed me by my hips, backing me up until I collided with the kitchen counter, fingertips squeezing gently at the skin just above the waistband of my shorts.

I slipped my tongue out of my mouth, letting it pry along the seam of his own until he allowed me entry, kissing me back in a series of short, passionate kisses that should’ve left me breathless.

Instead it was awkward and stiff, like we were doing what we thought we should do, rather than what we felt like doing.

Still, Steve gave it his all; letting his hands trail up underneath my top, gently feeling their way across my ribs in what I guessed was meant to be a caress.

He parted from my lips, moving on to leave a trail of kisses across my jaw and down the start of my neck; teeth nipping as he attempted to give me a hickey.

“Stop, Steve...” I protested; the soft sucking sensation really doing nothing for me, but making the surface of my skin slightly wet.

“Steve; this isn’t working...” I complained; though he couldn’t really know how much I meant those words.

Steve did as I asked, pulling away almost instantaneously, before peering up at me with soft eyes.

“Too much?” He asked; a slight hesitance in his voice as he basically enquired about his performance.

“A little...” I admitted, not quite having it in me to crush his confidence completely.

He sighed softly, leaning his head down to rest it in the crook of my neck, as I reached up to run my fingers through his hair.

Steve was trying; he really was, but I just—

This wasn’t what I’d ever expected from the guy I called my best friend, and I guess I was still adjusting, even if it had been two months.

“Do you wanna just watch TV or something?” He asked, pulling his head away from me as he finally resigned that nothing was gonna happen tonight.

I shook my head, leaning back on the counter as he stepped back to give me some space.

“I’m not really feeling it tonight.” I confessed; though I was beginning to wonder if I would feel like “it” any night.

Steve just nodded, already trying to hide the look of disappointment on his face.

“You’re right. I should just- go home...” He conceded, before stepping in close to give me a quick goodbye kiss.

He leaned down to peck me on the lips, then hesitated, changing course for my cheek instead.

It was quick and soft this time; no lingering touches or restrained passion, and then it was over.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, maybe.” He said uncertainly, giving me a nod before heading for the door.

I didn’t even say anything; concerned and embarrassed that I was the one that had done this, created this awkwardness between us.

Maybe if I had just let him continue...

But it was too late for second thoughts; Steve already shutting the door behind him, and ending all prospects of a Do over.

I sighed, heading straight to my room, because trust me to over complicate things.

I couldn’t even have a honest-to-god actual relationship without me somehow screwing that up!

Instead I just threw myself down face first on my bed, screaming frustratedly into my pillow, because I couldn’t even go one night without sabotaging myself.

I was an idiot; a total and complete idiot.

Steve was a nice guy; my closest friend, a true diamond amongst a sea of trash, so why didn’t I feel attracted to him?

I lifted my head off my pillow, wondering where in my life I’d become so fucked up that the idea of a nice guy was a turn off, when I spotted something tucked in the top corner of my bed.

Billy’s teddy bear.

Eleven must’ve seen it in my backpack and put it in my room thinking it was important.

I picked it up, turning over onto my back so I could look at its stupid blank eyed expression.

Maybe there was a reason I didn’t feel that way about Steve anymore...

#stranger things #stranger things fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #strangerthingsfanfiction #stranger things oc #strangerthings oc #original character #jim hopper daughter #Billy Hargrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove x original character #billy hargrove x oc #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington x original character

[stevemossington]

seasons pass and we’re not the same

(reposting because the first chapter of the sequel drops soon!!)

Summary: Holidays can be tough. But neither Wheelers nor the Byers were prepared for this Thanksgiving, when a long-hidden secret finally came to light. Nothing would ever be the same. (also on AO3)

November 1998

“The blue striped polo? No, no, the grey button-down.” Mike muttered to himself under his breath as he threw clothes into his duffel bag. He’d left packing until the last minute, which was not a surprise. But he would be lying to himself if he said it wasn’t because he was feeling unsettled about the trip. He hadn’t been to Hawkins since Holly’s high school graduation the past June. And that was nothing new: he only returned for major holidays now.

He heard the front door open and a voice called out. “Hey hon, you almost ready to go?”

“Yep, just finishing packing. I’ll be out in a sec.”

He tossed in some extra socks and zipped up the weathered blue bag before heading out to the living room, doubling back to grab his toothbrush. His girlfriend stood by the entry, arms crossed and head cocked in mock exasperation. But she quickly broke into a smile and he leaned down to peck her cheek.

“Okay, okay, now I’m ready.”

“Perfect, I’ve got the car out front.”

Mike stood up straight and saluted her. “Lead the way, Sophie.”

Sophie smirked and reached out to tickle under his arm. “You’re such a dork.”

They headed down to the car.

Mike was looking forward to his mom’s delicious home cooking, but he knew there would be the usual jabs about how he never visited. Even Nancy, who lived in New York, came home more often than he did. Luckily, now that she and Jonathan were married, Thanksgiving included the Byers so he’d have Will there with him. However, this was the first time Mike was bringing his girlfriend home. The first girl he’d ever introduced to his family. Yeah, there was definitely going to be some teasing.

Sophie was sweet and smart. Wispy blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes which were slightly magnified under her large wire-frame glasses. She had a wry humor and they got along well.  And, most importantly, she was completely separate from his childhood. They’d met in the same graduate program at Northwestern and quickly became friends, each being a little awkward and nerdy. They both ended up in Chicago after finishing their degrees, and after a few years their friendship turned into a relationship. Mike was happy.

Sophie fiddled with the radio as he drove them out of the city, finally setting on a classic rock station.

“I can’t believe I’m finally meeting your family. It’s been what, like a year and a half?”

“That’s not that long.”

“Yeah but we’ve known each other for years and you’ve met my family like ten times so…”

“Well that’s not fair, they live right outside the city. Hawkins isn’t exactly next door.”

“Yeah, but it’s not that hard to get to.” She softly added, “We could go more often, you know.”

“I know. I just… I like my life here. Our life here.” He reached for her hand over the center console and interlaced their fingers. He was happy she was coming with him, he really was.

Going back to Hawkins was never easy, but it didn’t help that this year was the 15th anniversary of Will’s disappearance. Of her.

He shook his head, as if that would clear away his unwanted thoughts. It would be fine.

November 1984

It had been five days. Five days since the gate had been closed, five days since Will had been saved. Five days since El had walked back into Mike’s life.

It was Friday afternoon and Mike had been given special permission to keep El company while Hopper was at work. The chief was in the process of planning the next steps for her, and in the meantime she was still on house arrest. But, as a special compromise, he’d given Mike the directions to the cabin, along with a stern lecture about the importance of being stealthy.

For El, it was far beyond halfway-happy.

They were splayed across the couch, some soap opera softly playing in the background, Mike’s fingers working their way through El’s curls. This was their first time truly alone, with no impending doom or pesky, well-meaning friends.

For Mike, it was the turning point, the beginning of the rest of their lives. He told her about all the things they would do once she could leave: the games at the arcade and the movies at the local theater and the lake in the summer. But there was something in the near future that he was especially interested in.

“So...I dunno if Hopper will let you, but I was thinking maybe…”

“Yeah?”

“Maybe we could go to the Snow Ball this year.” He blushed as she stared at him, her wide doe eyes shining.

“Promise?” She asked in a soft voice, and Mike felt bright inside, so much lighter than the last time they’d discussed the stupid school dance. Everything was going to be okay.

“Promise.”

He sat up and was tempted to kiss her, but was interrupted by sudden, heavy footsteps on the porch. The door burst open, one of the hinges breaking off, and armored men holding machine guns stormed in. El was up in a flash, hand held in front of her chest and her chin pulled down, but nothing seemed to be happening. Her eyes grew large as she panicked. Time slowed for Mike, like he was stuck in a dream. He could tell that her powers weren’t working. What was happening?

The men parted and a small boy stepped forward. He didn’t look much younger than them, wearing a navy sweatsuit and a fresh buzz cut. A droplet of blood was just beginning to form under his nose. A tall man stood beside him in a crisp suit, his hand gently, but territorially, on the boy’s shoulder. His smile reminded her of Papa.

“Eleven, it’s good to finally meet you. I’m Dr. Randolph. And this is Twelve.”

Mike was struck by the cold and hard look in the boy’s eyes. He was almost like a robot. El kept trying to overcome the block and began to shake, blood leaking from both nostrils.

“Don’t exhaust yourself. This is Twelve’s special ability.”

“What do you want?” Mike asked, attempting to sound braver than he felt. Randolph didn’t even spare a glance his way.

“We’ve come to take you to your new home, my dear. We have work to do, Eleven. We aren’t even close to being finished.”

“No.” She was trying to keep her voice level, but a tremor broke through.

“No?” Randolph flicked his eyes over to one of the soldiers and briskly nodded. The man grabbed Mike, holding him close and pressing an arm against his throat. Mike struggled to breathe.

“Mike!” El gasped, taking a step forward before she felt a barrier in the air, pushing her back. Another drop of blood leaked from Twelve’s nose.

“What is your plan here, Eleven? To go to school? To play with your friends? To be a normal child? Oh, you have never been anything but extraordinary. You are meant for so much more.”

“I don’t want it.” El whispered. “This is my home.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You are property of the United States government. You have no birth certificate, no legal identity. You don’t exist. The chief? He has nowhere to go to make you official. You aren’t a real person. But you are so much more than that.”

She said nothing, but a few tears escaped down her cheeks and Mike’s heart ached. He struggled against the soldier’s arms but the hold on his throat tightened.

“Of course, if you refuse to cooperate, we’ll be forced to come after your friends. After all, they would be stealing, stealing from the US government. Let’s see…” He pulled out a paper from his inner pocket and studied it. “Nancy Wheeler. Lucas Sinclair. Dustin Henderson. Joyce Byers. James Hopper. And, of course, Michael here.”

Randolph looked over at Mike and gave another nod. It happened so quick, an instant blinding pain in his hand. Mike couldn’t contain his scream; the man had broken his finger.

“Stop!” El cried, choking on her tears. She turned to Randolph and tried not to look at Twelve’s dead eyes. “Okay...okay. I’ll go.”

“El, no-” Mike shouted, but his mouth was quickly covered. He shouted against the glove and struggled to remove it with his good hand.

Randolph smiled. “Good, then that’s taken care of. Let’s go.”

He swept out of the cabin, Twelve at his heels and the soldiers following. The guard dropped Mike and nudged El forward. She paused at the door, turning back to see him crumpled on the kitchen floor. She tried to convey everything through her eyes, every thought and feeling, most of which she couldn’t have named if she wanted to. She was about to give herself over to the water and he was her last gasp of air. She could only whisper, “Goodbye, Mike.”

And then she was gone. He was left crying on the floor, the cabin full of an oppressive silence, the overturned chairs the only sign of a disruption. She was gone. She was gone.

Mike would remember everything that happened in the cabin with painful clarity; the aftermath would become fuzzy memories. A hysterical phone call to the police station, frantically biking out of the woods while trying to ignore his throbbing finger. Tearful words over the supercom, Lucas finding him in the ditch by Mirkwood. He must have fallen off his bike, crying too hard to properly see. Ending up at the Byers’ house, still only halfway repaired from the past weekend.

That was the moment Mike would always recall, wedged between Will and Nancy on the couch, Dustin sitting at their feet with his hand on Mike’s knee. Lucas and Max looked on from the other couch, with matching trails of tear stains on their cheeks. Jonathan busied himself in the kitchen, frying up eggs that no one was hungry for. There was still no sign of Hopper, and Joyce had gone to look for him.

“It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” Mike cried over and over, sobbing into his sister’s shirt. “They must have followed me. It’s my fault.”

They never saw her again.

November 1998

“Okay, you can’t make fun of my Star Trek posters anymore,” Sophie laughed as she stood in the middle of Mike’s childhood bedroom.

“Uh, please, it’s called taste,” Mike retorted. She scoffed sarcastically and continued to look around the room.

Things were going well so far. His dad had been polite and even seemed interested in what Sophie was saying. His mom was in her element, a glass of wine in one hand, flitting around the kitchen. Holly, home from her first semester at nearby IU, was totally enamored of Sophie and stayed close to her side.

Sophie gasped. “Oh my god, is this…?” She twirled around, holding up a framed photo. “Little Mike? Oh my goodness, and little Will and Lucas. And this must be...Dustin, right?”

She cooed as she gazed down at the photo from the science fair, all those years ago. He took it from her and squinted down at it.

“Yeah, I think we’re like twelve here.”

They heard a snicker from the doorway and turned to see Holly leaning into the room with a raised eyebrow. “Oh, Sophie, you wanna see some embarrassing Mike photos, then you better come with me.”

Sophie squeezed Mike’s arm before trotting after his sister, their giggles echoing in the hallway. He looked back down at the frame in his hand, using his sleeve to wipe a smudge from the glass. Then he carefully undid the backing, pulling out the second photo that had been hidden inside. An old black-and-white that Jonathan had snuck of Mike and Eleven on the couch the morning after she had closed the gate. A plate of Eggos was balanced on Mike’s lap and El was curled into his side, smiling as she looked down at the waffles. He was looking at her. Dustin, Lucas and Max were piled on the floor below them, still dead asleep. Jonathan had given Mike the photo a few weeks after she’d left.

The only photo he had of her. The only photo of El, their El, that existed. The only proof he had that she had been real.

You don’t exist. You’re not a real person. Those words especially had haunted him since that day, digging into his psyche until he sometimes wondered if he had dreamed her up. He’d never repeated them to anyone. They’d felt too foreign on his tongue, too utterly wrong.

“Mike! Nancy and the Byers are here!” His mom yelled from downstairs. Mike quickly put the photo back into place and closed up the frame before jogging out of the room. He only got halfway down the stairwell before he saw Will standing at the bottom with his arms open.

“Wheeler!”

“Byers!”

“You guys know that doesn’t really work when we’re all Byers and Wheelers here, right?” Nancy said with a wry smile while she watched her brother and brother-in-law embrace.

“Sophie’s not...yet,” Holly chimed in slyly.

“That’s right! Dear brother, please introduce me to the guest of honor.”

Mike rolled his eyes but laughed. After introductions were made, they set the table and feasted, trading old stories and laughter over the plethora of dishes.

Afterwards everyone scattered to digest before dessert. Ted promptly fell asleep in his recliner, while Joyce helped Karen clean up in the kitchen. Holly had the idea to run to the video store to rent something for the family to watch after pie and she recruited Sophie to help.

“Holly really loves Sophie, huh?” Will said teasingly as he and Nancy watched the girls head to the car.

Nancy shrugged. “She never knew El so...I suppose this is all new to her.”

He was surprised - he’d never thought about it. But of course… He, Nancy, Jonathan - they’d all been subconsciously comparing Sophie to El. That’s what seemed so weird about the whole thing. He felt bad - it wasn’t fair to Sophie. Or Mike, either.

The girl he hadn’t seen or heard of since middle school. No, not fair at all.

When Mike walked back into the kitchen, Will grabbed him a beer and suggested going downstairs to look at the old hangout space. They weren’t down there long before Jonathan joined them and they reminisced about their old D&D campaigns.

“Remember the campaign with the Thessalhydra? And those weird flowers in the cave that you didn’t ever explain?”

“Hey, I was twelve, not some professional novelist.”

“I guess we never really did play much after middle school, huh?”

Mike shrugged, eyes on the carpet. “Just wasn’t fun anymore.”

There was a silence here that would have normally gone unacknowledged, but Will found himself speaking anyway. Maybe it was the wine loosening his tongue or maybe it was that Nancy’s words were still fresh in his mind. Either way, he put a hand on Mike’s shoulder and said, “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”

“It’s okay. I just can’t believe it’s been so long.”

Jonathan fiddled with his bottle on the couch tearing at the label. Will looked at Mike with concern.

“Mike, you gotta stop blaming yourself for that.”

“I can’t.”

“You were just a kid, you were both kids.”

“It was bound to happen anyway,” Jonathan added.

“What?” Will asked.

“I mean, they were never gonna stop looking for her, y’know? They thought of her as their property. She wasn’t a real person to them. She didn’t exist in the real world.”

Mike whipped his head to look at him. “What did you say?”

“She was considered government property. She didn’t officially exist as a real person. She didn’t have paperwork or anything.”

“How…” He paused, swallowing hard. “How did you know that?”

Something in Mike’s eyes changed and Jonathan knew he had made a mistake.

November 1984

It had been four days. Four days since his house was torn apart again, four days since he watched his brother writhe in pain while strapped to a bed. Four days since he’d been allowed to find comfort in Nancy’s arms.

It was Thursday night and Jonathan was finally leaving after his late shift at the diner. He was tired - he’d been taking extra shifts to help pay for fixing up the house and since his mom had been staying home with Will the last few days. He groaned internally as he thought of the history reading he still had to do.

He wasn’t pleased when he saw two figures loitering by his car on the far side of the parking lot. His coworker, Eric, noticed too.

“You need any help?” He asked as they both paused outside the restaurant. One of the men looked up and Jonathan realized he recognized him - Murray Bauman. His heart dropped and he waved off Eric.

“Nah, I know him. Go on home.”

“Night, man.”

Jonathan tried to ignore the pit in his stomach as he walked toward his car. He’d only seen the disgraced journalist four days ago - when he had told them to not contact him again. This couldn’t be good.

“Ah, Jonathan Byers. Long time, no see.”

Again, it had been four days.

“Murray.” Jonathan nodded before hesitantly asking, “What’s going on?”

Murray smiled wide, showing his teeth and Jonathan was reminded of the wolves from those old fairy tales. This man was going to devour him if he wasn’t careful.

“I’d like to introduce you to a…” He turned to the dark-haired man beside him and cocked his head. “Well, would you say we’re friends, Larry?”

“I think that will depend, Mr. Bauman.” The man turned back to Jonathan and extended his hand. “Dr. Randolph. A pleasure to meet you, Jonathan.”

Jonathan kept his hands firmly in the pockets of his jeans. “Can I help you?”

“Right to business. I knew I would like you.”

“Yeah, so uh, Larry here works for another branch of the illustrious Department of Energy.”

Jonathan could tell that Murray was driving Randolph crazy but that the man was trying to keep it together.

“Apparently they intercepted the tapes we sent. All of them. And…”

Randolph cut in. “Look, we’re not stupid. We know you still have the original tape. So I’d like to make a deal. We’ll let you send out the altered tapes, with the information about ‘leaked toxins’ and the government covering up Barbara Holland’s death. And if a publication chooses to expose it - and I’m sure one of them will - we’ll go ahead and close Hawkins Lab. Place is too much of a liability now anyway.”

Jonathan could tell that there was more. “But?”

“Smart boy!” Murray barked and smacked his hand against the hood of the car.

Jonathan kept his eyes on Randolph. “What do you want?”

The doctor had an unsettling smile, too. “I need to know where Eleven is.”

He wasn’t expecting this. Why didn’t he expect this? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Murray gave a dry laugh. “Yeah, cut the shit kid, he knows that you know about her.”

“And we know she’s been back,” Randolph added.

“You want me to turn her in?”

“I do. She belongs to us.”

“She’s a little girl.”

“And a very dangerous one. Look, here’s the deal. She will never have a normal life. Ever. She has no birth certificate; she is in no way a legal citizen. She has no legal identity. She won’t be able to go to school. She won’t be able to get a driver’s license, a job, married. In the eyes of the government, she does not exist. Except as its property.”

“You really think I give a shit what the government thinks?”

“No, I don’t. I’m just telling you what the reality is. She will have to live off the grid, for the rest of her life. And so will anyone that associates with her.” He pulled out a slip of paper from his pocket and peered at it. “Nancy and Mike Wheeler? Your brother? Your mother?” He clucked in disapproval. “Harboring a fugitive is a federal crime.”

“How can she be a fugitive if she doesn’t exist?”

“Son, this is the U.S. government. We can make her exist when we need to.”

Murray spoke up. “Look, Jonathan, we still have a chance to do what we wanted. To finish what we started, what Nancy started. Your friends, your family? They have a real shot at a happy life here. A life where your brother is healthy and left alone. Where your mom doesn’t have to worry about him. Where Nancy is happy, where she’s avenged her friend.”

Murray and Randolph stared down at him and he realized how trapped he was. How utterly fucked he was.

“Okay, okay. All right.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead and sighed. “The chief is hiding her.”

“Chief Hopper?”

“Yeah. I can give you directions to the place.”

He described it as best he could, remembering the directions that Hopper had given him only days ago. When Randolph finished taking notes, he nodded at Jonathan.

“Pleasure doing business. Keep an eye on the papers. Have a good night.”

Murray clapped him on the shoulder, a sick smile on his face. “I knew you’d be the one to help. Nancy’s too…” He waved his hand from side to side. “Ehhh, idealistic. Noble. You and I know how things really go, don’t we?”

Jonathan just stared back at him, not trusting himself to reply. He watched as the men walked back to their car and tried not to throw up. What had he done? What had he done?

Eleven was powerful. She would be able to fight them off, right?

Twenty-four hours later, as he listened to Mike sob in his living room, Jonathan realized just how wrong he was. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to forgive himself.

November 1998

The story unraveled from Jonathan, as if it had been trying to escape all along. A deadly silence hung in the air.

“What?” Mike asked in a low voice. Will was stock still, arms wrapped around himself. There was a noise on the stairs and the boys turned to see Nancy standing on the bottom step.

“Did you hear all that?” Mike asked his sister.

She bit her lip and nodded; she didn’t look shocked. Why didn’t she look shocked? Mike’s eyes widened and he backed away a few steps.

“You knew. You knew about this.”

“Not at first. Not for the first few months or so.”

“But you knew. So much for we tell each other everything, right?” His raised his voice, pain edging it. “You knew!”

“Jonathan?” Will asked, shaking his head in astonishment. Everything had changed.

“I had to make a decision. Okay? I’m not happy about it. I’m not proud of it.”

Mike started to pace. “I thought it was all my fault. I always blamed myself. You knew that, Nancy. You let me think that!”

“Mike…” She whispered and Jonathan held up a hand.

“Hey, don’t blame her.”

Mike spun around to face him, his finger shaking as he pointed it at him. “You don’t tell me what to do. You don’t fucking tell me what to do!”

Nancy took two steps forward to stand between them, arms outspread.

“Calm down, Mike.”

“Calm down? You want me to calm down?” He threw his beer bottle against the far wall, the bottleneck breaking off.

Jonathan frowned, his patience for Mike wearing thin. “What, were we all just gonna become fugitives? I wanted Will to be okay, I wanted Nancy to be okay. My mom, everyone.”

“I didn’t ask you to do that,” Will said from the corner he had backed up into, but no one seemed to hear.

“Yeah, Hopper seems to be doing real well,” Mike snapped.

“We don’t know that,” Nancy said. “No one’s heard from him in years.”

Mike’s eyes grew wild and he let out a short hollow laugh. “Yeah, because your husband fucked him over. Practically pushed him down the bottle.”

“Mike, that’s not fair.”

“I wanted everyone to be able to have their lives back.”

“Not everyone,” Mike growled.

“What?”

“NOT EVERYONE!” He roared, tears leaking down his cheeks.

Will thought he saw the lamp flicker beside him. He wasn’t sure if anyone else had noticed.

“She was my future. You took that from me. No, you know what? You took that from her!” Mike slammed his palm against the wall and everyone jumped. “She was a person; she was a human! You took her life away. You basically killed her.” He choked on a sob and whispered, “How could you?”

He sank onto the couch and continued to cry. No one dared to move.

“Mike?”

Sophie stood on the basement stairs, looking confused and concerned, Holly just one step above her. Karen hovered in the doorway. Joyce was beside her, hand covering her mouth.

“I think we need to talk.”

Mike rubbed a hand over his puffy, tearstained face and nodded. Jonathan forced himself to meet his mother’s eyes. Nancy finally let herself cry. Will clasped his hands together in a futile attempt to stop them from trembling.

Nothing was the same.

November 1998

Eleven stood in the void, watching the scene unfold in the basement before her. She’d managed to keep her cool for the most part, only breaking once. It seemed like no one noticed though. Maybe Will. He always was more attuned to those things than the others.

She felt tangled inside, her heart within a vice that was slowly tightening. But even though it had been months since she’d last looked in on Mike, on any of them, her eyes remained dry. She didn’t cry much anymore.

There was a soft splashing in the background and Fifteen came to stand beside her. “Who are they?”

“No one. Just people I used to know.”

Fifteen sighed and ran a hand through her silky black hair. “We should get going. This assignment won’t be easy.”

Eleven gave a short nod and a tight smile. “Let’s go.”

The Wheelers and the Byers faded away into the darkness as the girls moved on to their next mark.

Goodbye Mike.  

#stranger things #mike wheeler #mileven #the sequel is coming!! #get hype with me!! #a mutli-chap sequel! who even am i #ugh the formatting is so weird on mobile #mostly reposting because the original one has a broken link #thanks a lot me for deactivating #stranger words #lara writes

[el-borealis]

Whatever Floats Your Boat

Here is my Mileven Secret Santa for the lovely @midnightmillie! 

The prompt: “Whatever Floats Your Boat. Really, it’s okay.” Something taking place in summer. 

Stef, I hope you enjoy this summery, lake-side, word-nerdy fluff-fest! 

Read on AO3 

The chattering of Mike's friends filled the air around him. Their voices mixed with the sounds of lapping water and the birdsong that echoed from above. It all blended together in an oddly calming way, lulling Mike's mind into a state of rare and blissful quiet. Mike allowed his eyes to slip shut. He leaned his head back, took a deep breath, and stretched out his bare legs. The warm sunlight bathed his face with a hint of relief and a whisper of hope.

It was finally here. The first sensations of summer.

The tiny beach-like outcropping at the far end of Lover's Lake was the perfect place for such a day. Mrs. Byers said that the location had once been a popular spot for teens back in the 60s. Over the years, though, the makeshift trail had become overgrown, and thus it had been lost to the current generation of Hawkins High students. What remained was an almost impossible to detect inlet with a just-big-enough patch of sand, hidden from the rest of the lake by a crop of huge weeping willows. Lily pads and reeds crept from the water, creating an idyllic setting almost too perfect for the boring confines of Hawkins, Indiana.

The whole outing had been orchestrated by Mrs. Byers. Mike had heard her whispering persuasions to Hopper all throughout the spring. It had taken her weeks to convince Hopper to loosen the reins enough for just this single outing. And truly? It couldn't have come soon enough.

El had become increasingly lonely as the months had progressed. As the air had warmed and the world around them had awoken into spring, the rules of her seclusion had begun to break her spirit. It broke Mike's heart more than he cared to admit. For, there was only so much that a fourteen-year-old boy could do. Of course, he called her every single night. He smuggled her sweets and books and little hair accessories that he'd swiped from Nancy. He made sure to shoot Hopper snide looks whenever he drummed up the courage. More than anything, though, Mike worked as hard as he could to remind her (and himself) that this was all going to pass with time.

Mrs. Byers, though? She had been able to do more. And she had.

Mike made a mental note to thank her later, because on this day, surrounded by her friends and dappled in sunlight, El looked happy. Maybe that was why his brain was so blissfully quiet. Maybe it was the way the sun fell onto her, showcasing the golden flecks in her honey eyes in a way he had never seen before. Or, maybe it was the way her fingers lazily threaded through his in the sand, pumping his hand whenever she laughed at something that Max or Lucas said. Maybe it was her own words, spinning faster than Mike had ever heard her speak before, complete with a hint of confidence that was so incredibly hard earned.

Mike bit his teeth into his growing smile.

God, he was so proud of her.

He wished he could have recorded their very first talks, if only to play them back for her now. Sure, Mike still yammered for about 80% of their nightly talks, but increasingly, El had begun to add her own thoughts to the mix. Questions and answers, with opinions and jokes and ideas tossed in-between. El's unique sense of humor had materialized slowly throughout it all. She had a surprisingly dry and deadpan humor, one that always seemed to catch Mike off guard in the most delightful way. She had also shown herself to be highly opinionated, a trait only made more apparent as her vocabulary and confidence had grown. More than anything though, El was ceaselessly curious about the world. It was a trait they shared, and it made Mike's heart skip with hope for the potential of what could be.

Mike felt like he was unlocking El's personality piece by glorious piece, and he couldn't deny the effect it had on him. The tumbling feel that made him slip deeper and deeper into… a word even he didn't know how to say.

But that was a thought for another time...

Mike opened his eyes and shifted his gaze toward El once again. Her wavy hair was frizzy from the humidity. She had tied it half-up with a pink band that he had swiped for her from Nancy's room. She brushed some stray strands roughly from her face as she listened to Dustin drone on about a family of ducks on the other side of the shore.

After a moment, Dustin stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. He held his hand out to El.

"I'm going to go take a look at them," Dustin said. "Wanna come?"

"Um…" El stuttered, looking back at Mike for the first time in a few minutes. "I'll stay here. Is that… okay?"

Dustin shrugged, "Whatever floats your boat."

"Wh -"

Dustin waved his hand casually as he began to walk away, "Really, it's okay!"

Mike watched El curiously as El watched Dustin leave. That was when he saw it. The now familiar pattern. It played out like clockwork through her expressions. First, the sharp line appeared between her eyebrows. Then, she blinked three times in quick succession. Finally, her lips moved with no sound; the hints of fragmented words driving upon them.

Mike leaned close, "What is it?"

El twitched in surprise. She bit her lip and watched Dustin's retreating figure for another couple of seconds. She then turned slowly toward Mike. Her eyes were serious. Her voice, a low and worried whisper.

"M-mike," she stuttered. "I… I didn't bring a boat."

"...What?"

"He said I should… float my boat but…" her eyes snapped wide. "Was I supposed to bring a boat? I- I don't have a boat!"

"Oh!"

Mike worked fast to successfully bite back the laugh that shot to his lips so as to not embarrass her. "No, El. You don't need a boat. He um… That's just a phrase. Dustin said an idiom."

El stared at him blankly. "He's an idiot?"

Mike snorted, "Oh, he's definitely an idiot. But no. He said an idiom. It's like… a saying. They're phrases that don't really mean what the actual words mean. Like 'whatever floats your boat' means 'do whatever you want.'

El's eyes twinkled with instant annoyance. "He told me to float a boat. But... I'm not supposed to float a boat."

"Nope. You're just supposed to 'do what you want'."

"That is…" Her shoulders quickly dropped and she huffed. "That is stupid! He could say 'yes'. No more. Just 'yes'. But he told me to 'float a boat'?! That's… that's stupid! Words are so stupid, Mike."

It finally slipped. Mike could no longer contain his laughter. "You just said a whole lot of words about how dumb words are."

El's tense look softened in an instant. She ducked her head as the slightest pink rose into her cheeks. "I'm getting better, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Mike replied. He playfully bumped her shoulder. "Way better! That was almost a whole rant!"

El chuckled. Her dimples caught the sunlight as she looked at him with her perfect closed-lipped smile.

"Don't feel bad that you don't know these phrases, though," Mike added as he reached out for her hand. "You're right. They are stupid. It's just something you learn."

"It's just something you learn." El repeated back to him with a mocking tone.

"Hey!"

El giggled and shifted closer to Mike. "Tell me some other idiots."

"Idioms."

"Right. Idioms."

"Well…" Mike played with her fingers for a silent moment as he thought. "There's 'hold your horses'. That means to 'slow down' or 'don't get carried away'."

"Get carried away?"

Mike grimaced. "Shit, that's another idiom, isn't it? Yeah, I guess they both mean to slow down."

El rolled her eyes, "People could just say, 'slow down'."

"Oh! There's 'kick the bucket'! That means to die."

"WHAT?!" El yelped, her eyes blowing wide.

"Yeah... that one is really weird now that I think about it."

El burst into laughter. Free flowing, loud, unrestrained laughter. She latched onto his hand as she tried and failed to catch her breath. "That is… that is SO stupid!"

"It is…" Mike replied, giggles beginning to fill the space between his own words in a contagious manner. "That one is really stupid!"

El's laughter was joyous. Over the course of the next few seconds it took over her entire body. Her nose was scrunched and pink lips were turned upward. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut. Her fingers gripped tightly on his as she leaned over on herself and tried to catch her breath. She seemed so happy, so incredibly beautiful and perfectly at peace...

Mike's own laughter subsided. For, in that moment, an emotion so much stronger than amusement flooded through his body like an earthquake.

"Ooh, are you teaching El phrases?"

Mike jumped at the intruding voice. He looked up to find Max standing over them, a chip bag that had been by El's feet now in her hands.

El finally caught her breath and looked up toward their friend. "Idioms?" she said tentatively, trying the word on for size.

"I see…"

Max took a quick look at Mike. Her expression turned to one of devilish glee. Max bent down to eye-level and leaned in toward El. "I've got one for you, Ellie," Max said, her eyes flicking back on Mike before she said, "Head over heels."

"What's that?"

"I bet Wheeler would love to explain that one to you," she replied with a smirk. "Since he is. Completely. It's written all over his face right now. Have fun, Mike!"

Max patted Mike patronizingly on the knee and bounded instantly away.

"What does that mean?" El asked.

"Uh…"

"What?" El asked, her laughter gone, her gaze intent.

Mike made a mental note to kill Max later. For, El was staring at him with that look. That piercing gaze that Mike knew meant that El was expecting a full explanation. His tongue felt instantly dry.

"It's… It's when you really like someone," he stuttered, "Like... really like them? You like them so much you can't stop thinking about them and you could do like, flips? and stuff?"

"Flips?"

Mike's hand flamed so hot within El's grasp that he was sure it was going to burn her.

"Well, no. Not actually flips. But you feel like you could do flips when you look at them? Does that... does that make sense?"

"No."

Mike bit back a groan. "I guess… I'm uh… Okay..." he took a deep breath and tried to steady himself, "It's when your stomach feels all squirmy and your skin feels too tight and you can't stop thinking about them no matter how hard you try. Did I already say that part? Yeah, I did… I think… Uh…"

Mike's words died in an agonizing swallow.

El bit her lip. Yet, after a short moment, something seemed to dawn in her eyes. She broke into a timid smile.

"Like… like love?" she asked.

"Uh..."

"Yes?" She asked with firm nod.

"uh...yes." Mike confirmed, his breath short. "L-love. Yes."

El's hand then tightened on his. She smiled and ducked her eyes away.

"I'm…" El's stuttered. "I'm head over heels."

"You ARE?" Mike blurted so loudly the birds above them took flight.

El gazed up toward him slowly. The golden flecks in her eyes shined through her lashes. She nodded.

It was the last thing that Mike saw before he kissed her.

It was the only thing that Mike could think to do! Because words? Words were failing him here. Big time. The words were so real and so right and far too big for his young mouth to handle. How could he ever find the words to explain how he felt? How could he explain the fluttering in his chest or the sweat on his palms? How could he explain the constant barrage of goosebumps that ran up his neck when she touched his arm and said his name? Or the involuntary somersaults his stomach performed when she joked and laughed? How could he ever even begin to explain how his heart had expanded so much that it threatened to topple him over and throw him -

"- Head over heels," Mike gasped like a breath of fresh air against her lips. "Me too. Absolutely."

He braved to open his eyes then, shocked by his own outburst. Yet he needn't have been worried. For, the surge of warmth in El's eyes told him everything he needed to know.

El was quiet for a moment. She just looked at him. Her eyes wide, deep, floating. Her smile soft.

"Can I kiss you again?" Mike whispered.

She shrugged and said, with the lightest lilt, "Whatever floats your boat."

The laugh that cut through Mike's body was a sudden and glorious surprise.

"Did I use it right?" she asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up at his response.

"Yeah. Perfect!" Mike replied joyously, "Just… just.. per-"

His final word became lost between his smile, her giggle, and their firmly pressed lips.

Mike did not care about the fact that Hopper's eyes were definitely on them. He did not care that his friends were probably laughing under their breath just a few feet away. He did not care about the birdsong, or the lapping waves, or the summer sun. He only cared about the girl who's air he was sharing in that very moment.

Because Mike? Mike was truly… undeniably… irreversibly... head over heels for her.

#mileven #mileven fanfic #mileven fanfiction #mileven secret santa #stranger things

[loretranscripts]

Lore Episode 16: Covered Mirrors (Transcript) - 4th October 2015

tw: murder, graphic descriptions of violence, racism, hate crimes

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous re-reading on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

Before we begin, I wanted to mention two of my upcoming live shows for October. If you’re in the Boston area, these might be something to check out. On October 11th, I’ll be in Portsmouth, New Hampshire for a 7pm show, and on the 25th, head down to New Haven, Connecticut, for a 2:30 afternoon show. You can order your tickets for one or both of the shows right now by heading over to lorepodcast.com/live, all the details are listed there. I’m looking forward to meeting you, and sharing some stories together. And now, on with the show.

I can still remember the first time I saw Nightmare on Elm Street as a child. Those tense moments in the dark, the thumping of my heart in my chest, the screams… The decades have reduced much of those memories down to simple impressions and flashes of key images, and the most important of those, of course, was the glove. Freddy Krueger’s glove was iconic, all leather and metal and fish knives – just a glimpse of it was enough to send shivers down the spines of millions, and it was one of a handful of weapons that became foundational to a new wave of horror movies that started 30 years ago. There were others, of course: the chainsaw, with its screaming motor and biting teeth filled many nightmares; the machete always takes me back to the hockey-mask-wearing Jason Voorhees of Friday the 13th. There are many stories of a killer who uses a hook, from I Know What You Did Last Summer to an early episode of Supernatural. And who could forget the wooden stake that makes an appearance in almost every vampire movie? But no tool of destruction has been more prolific, more horrific, than the axe. It’s the stuff of nightmares, equal parts passion and skill; it’s a near mythic weapon that instantly inspires fear, but a little over a century ago, those nightmares became reality. I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

Between January 1911 and April 1912, a killer travelled across western Louisiana and eastern Texas, and whoever they were, a trail of bodies was left on a scale beyond anything we can imagine today. They were crimes of intense passion and brutality; they were calculated and merciless; they were hate crimes to the core, focusing on victims of mixed race; and they were all committed with an axe. The first murder took place in Rayne, Louisiana in January 1911. While a young mother and her three small children were asleep in their beds, someone entered their home and brutally killed them all with an axe. Shortly after that, and just 10 miles to the west in the small town of Crowley, the killer struck again. While Walter Byers and his wife and their six-year-old son slept in their beds, their lives were ended. There was a pattern forming, something beyond the victims’ profiles and the murder weapon, but it was still too early for the authorities to notice. This was an age before the internet after all, before 24-hour news networks. Most information travelled along railroad, and took days or weeks to spread effectively, which was unfortunate, because that allowed the killer to move on and continue his work. Just a quick note: I’m just going to use the male pronouns when referring to this killer. It’s not an effort to be anti-feminist, believe me, I just have a hard time imagining a woman would brutally murder small children with an axe. If that assumption offends you, I apologise. Whoever he was, he didn’t wait long before making his next appearance. On February 23rd, 1911, someone entered the home of the Casaway family in San Antonio, Texas, and slaughtered everyone in their sleep: the husband and wife, and their three children. There were never any signs of robbery, no vandalism or other evidence of a reason for the murders. Whoever the man was, he entered each home with one horrific purpose, and then he moved on. The killer took a long break after San Antonio, but when he reappeared he was back in Louisiana. On Sunday, November 26th of 1911, in the city of Lafayette, all six members of the Randall family were butchered while they slept. The authorities said that each had been killed with a single blow to the back of the head, near the right ear, and the weapon, they claimed, was an axe.

The police arrested a woman named Clementine Barnabet, who claimed to have committed the crimes in Rayne, Crowley, and Lafayette. Her story was an odd mixture of voodoo, superstition and cult mentality, due to her involvement in something called the “Sacred Church”, but in the end, the true killer proved her innocence by continuing with his spree while she was behind bars. In January of 1912, Crowley experienced yet another tragedy at the hands of the axe-man. Marie Warner and her three children were brutally killed in their beds, following the pattern of the previous murders. Two days later, in the Louisiana town of Lake Charles, Felix Broussard and his wife and their three children became the next victims, one blow to the head for each, just behind the right ear, but this was the moment the killer went off script. He left a note – it wasn’t incredibly helpful, but it did lend a small amount of humanity to the man behind the axe. The note read: “when he maketh the inquisition for blood, he forgetteth not the cry of the humble. Human Five”. No one knew what it meant; no one does to this day, but it helped the towns along the southern Pacific railroad line understand that it wasn’t some mythological beast that was hunting them. No, the killer was a man, still a monster, but of the human variety. The death toll continued to climb: on February 19th, it was Hattie Dove and her three children in Beaumont, Texas; on March 27th, it was the Monroe family in the town of Gladden; on April 11th, the killer returned to San Antonio to take the lives of William Burton and his family; and two nights later, in Hempstead, three more lives were taken. The killer appeared one final time in August of 1912, in the home of James Dashiell in San Antonio. But something went wrong – rather than never waking up again, Mrs Dashiell opened her eyes as the killer missed his target. She screamed, and he ran, slipping away into the night. And then, as if it had been nothing more than a hot wind blowing off the gulf, everything just stopped. No more murders, no more blood, no more little coffins with no one left to weep over them. Just… gone. But there’s always another axe, there’s always another family, and there’s always another monster.

Tucked in the south-western corner of Iowa, between the middle and west branches of the Nodaway river, is the sleepy town of Villisca. In 1912, this was the sort of town where everyone knew each other, if not by name then at least by face. Local man Joe Moore had been the star salesman at a farm equipment business run by another Villisca native, Frank Jones, but had struck out on his own five years earlier, starting his own business. He and his wife, Sarah, had four children, ranging from five to 11 years of age, and all of them were well-loved around town. On the night of June 10th, the eldest daughter Katherine played host to a pair of local girls, Lena and Ina Stillinger, for what we would call a sleepover today. With the house full, the family retired to bed, and soon all eight of them were fast asleep. Just after midnight, however, a stranger lifted the latch on the Moore family’s backdoor and stepped inside. Today, we don’t think twice about locking all of our doors and windows before going to bed, but in Villisca in 1912, that would have been overkill. Crime wasn’t a problem, and everyone – well, we’ve already covered how friendly they all were. Whoever it was that entered the Moore house that night closed the door behind himself, and then quietly picked up a nearby oil lamp. This was the type of lamp with a glass chimney on top, which protected the flame from gusts of wind, but it was also prone to toppling out if the lamp was tipped too far. Breaking glass makes noise, and that’s probably why the intruder removed the chimney and set it aside. He lit the lamp and turned the flame down as low as he could - just enough light to see by, but not enough to wake anyone up. And then, moving as quietly as he could, he walked past the room where the two Stillinger girls slept and slowly climbed the narrow stairs. We know this because the town coroner did his best to later reconstruct the events of that night. We’re told that the man first slipped into the room of Joe and Sarah Moore, who lay asleep in their beds. He set down the lamp – it would only get in the way when he started to use the other item he had brought with him: an axe. He raised the weapon over his head, so hard that it scuffed the ceiling of the room, but neither of the occupants of the bed seemed to notice. He brought it down, first on Joe, and then on his wife. Two quick swings, two sickening thuds, and then it was over. He next visited the Moore children, asleep in the second upstairs bedroom. He quietly killed each of them with similar, quick blows to the head with the axe, before returning to the stairs. Back on the first floor, he entered the room where the two guests slept, and completed his macabre mission. No one awoke. No one screamed. No one was allowed a chance to warn the others, until it was all over. But there are signs that one of the Stillinger girls woke up. According to the coroner, her body showed signs of movement prior to her death. Perhaps the noises upstairs woke her, maybe her sister screamed, or some other noise disturbed her sleep, but by the time she was awake, it was too late. She quickly joined the others in their horrible fate. I wish I could say that the night’s events were over, but the intruder – the killer, now – wasn’t finished. After killing all eight of the people inside the house, he returned upstairs and systematically brutalised their remains with his axe. There are details I won’t record, details most of us can do without, no matter how strong some of our stomachs might be, but it’s estimated that the killer stuck Joe Moore’s face at least 30 times before moving on to his wife. I think that gives you an idea. When he was done with his work, the man covered each of the faces of the victims – all eight victims, shrouded in clothing and bedsheets – and then he moved on to the mirrors in the house, draping each one in turn with more cloth. Every reflective surface, every place where it might be possible to see eyes staring back at himself, he carefully and deliberately covered each of them. They think the killer stayed in the house for a while after he was done. He had taken a bowl and filled it with water, where it appears he washed his blood-soaked hands, and a little before 5am, the man picked up the house keys of the Moore’s, turned off the lamp, locked the doors and then vanished into the red morning sky.

As it goes with so many small-town tragedies, the people of Villisca quickly went in search of someone to blame for the murders. One of the first suspects to be considered was Iowa senator Frank Jones. If you remember, Jones had been Joe Moore’s boss at the farm equipment business just a few years before. When he left to strike out on his own, though, Moore had taken one of the most lucrative clients with him, a company called John Deere. There was no love between these two men, in fact they used to cross over to the opposite side of the street to avoid passing one another on the sidewalk. There was also a rumour that Joe Moore had been having an affair with Frank’s daughter. The theory, around town at least, was that Frank hired a killer to get rid of Moore. He was never formally charged with the murders, but the news coverage ruined his political career forever. Another suspect was local man Lyn George Kelly. Aside from being the town’s Presbyterian minister, he was also known as a sexual deviant with mental problems. This is a guy who had placed an ad in the local newspaper looking for a receptionist, and when women responded, he would instruct them that they would be required to type in the nude – super nice guy, if by nice, you mean crazy. But crazy or not, he quickly admitted to the murders and to leaving town on a train the morning of their discovery. He was also left-handed, something the coroner had determined was characteristic of the killer - but there were some problems too. Kelly was 5’2”, and weighed a little over 100lbs soaking wet, not the beast people would have expected to find swinging an axe in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, Kelly later recanted his confession and complained about police brutality. One final suspect was William Mansfield. It was believed by some that Frank Jones had hired Mansfield to do the killing, while others just believed that the man worked alone. Mansfield had a criminal record, and at one point one of the detective agencies hired to investigate the murders claimed that he was even a cocaine addict. No one liked Mansfield, and it seemed like he was really the guy. Mansfield had been suspected in two other murders prior to Villisca, which didn’t help his case – one in Kansas, and happened just four days before, and another in Aurora, Illinois. The locations of both of those murders were easily accessible by train, and both had been committed with an axe. That’s not all. Each of those previous murder scenes were eerily similar to Villisca. In both homes, investigators found a lamp burning at the foot of the bed, glass chimney missing. Mirrors in both homes had been covered, and bowls of water used to wash bloody hands were found near the kitchen. No prints were found, though, suggesting a killer who was worried about being identified by prison records, something Mansfield would have understood. In the end, however, Mansfield was able to provide an alibi. His name was apparently on the payroll records for a business several hundred miles away, making it difficult to believe that he could have travelled to Villisca to swing the axe. Someone did, though, which means the killer got away – caught a train, skipped town, and landed somewhere else. Who knows where that train might have taken him.  

The axe is about as iconic as it gets. Some of the oldest manmade tools that scientists have discovered are hand-axes, suggesting that their form and function is somehow part of our subconscious. They fit our needs, and perhaps they fit our nature as well. In Villisca, like countless communities around the world at the turn of the last century, the axe was about as commonplace as the hand-pumped well, or the wooden outhouse. Everyone had one, and everyone took them for granted. It was incredibly common to see them laying on a person’s porch or protruding from a large piece of firewood in the yard, which means that there never would have been a need for the Villisca axe murderer to carry his weapon with him. It was a weapon of convenience, it was the easy and logical choice – the perfect tool for the perfect crime. As a result, our scary stories are full of these brutally sharp, iconic weapons. Their vicious arc is the stuff of nightmares, and for the Moore family, those nightmares became real. We encounter William Mansfield one more time in the historical records. Shortly after his trial and release, a man named R. H. Thorpe from nearby Shenandoah, came forward with a story. According to him, he saw a man fitting Mansfield’s description board a train the morning of the murders, within walking distance of town. Maybe it was someone else, maybe it was Mansfield himself, caught in his own lie. There’s no record that the authorities followed up on this lead, but other things followed him in the years to come. In June of 1914, two full years after the events in Villisca, Mansfield was arrested one more time, this time in Kansas City. The reason: his former wife, along with her parents and her infant child, had been found dead in their home, in Blue Island, Illinois. According to the authorities, they had been brutally murdered in their sleep. The killer had used an axe.

This episode of Lore was produced by me, Aaron Mahnke. You can learn more about me and this show over at lorepodcast.com, and be sure to follow along on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram, @lorepodcast. This episode of Lore was made possible by you, the sharpest listeners in the shed, [Insert ad break]. And finally, a reminder that you are my hero, each and every one of you. Your reviews on iTunes, your tweets to friends, your likes on Facebook, all of it works together like a well-honed axe to cut through the clutter, and help this show grow. If you feel like pitching in, just visit lorepodcast.com/support, where you can find links to all sorts of ways to help this show out. There’s always room for you on the team. And as always, thanks for listening.

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