Identify problem -> brainstorm solution -> execute. This process has never failed you before. So what if the solution for this particular issue involves getting into a fake relationship with the new professor? It’s a means to an end. Nothing more. But Professor Reid—far too tender, and all too eager for scraps of affection—seems intent to make this harder than it should be.
contents: post-series, fake dating, one sided rivalry to lovers, professor!Spencer Reid, legal age gap (reader 29 and Spencer is 38), prof!reader, she wears glasses and it WILL be referenced a lot, fluff and other romcom-y shenanigans, no use of y/n. Not a series, more of a semi-related universe, but I recommend reading act one together for better context and build up!
ACT ONE - the set up
coffee with the enemy
-> Spencer Reid is new but he’s already the university golden boy. Fellow faculty adore him, students worship the ground he walks on, even the administration loves him. You’re committed to your disdain for him—until he offers you access to his collection of medieval literature.
BESPECTACLED²
-> A phone call from your childhood best friend adds to the stress of midterms. You seek refuge in the library, only to run into Spencer Reid. Somewhere between excel sheets, checking exams, and some accidental flirting, the stress dissipates and your annoyance fizzles into something strangely iridescent.
FACULTY WHISPERS
-> All that attention on university golden boy Spencer Reid hits a peak, only to sour into malicious gossip. You’re not one to defend a man, so you do the next best thing—offer a temporary solution.
ACT TWO - blossoming alone over you
coming soon...
extras:
meet prof!reader
a/n: Think of this like a Hallmark movie (which, unsurprisingly, was what I was watching when I came up with this)—middling quality at best, but still (hopefully) fluffy and entertaining. No taglist, this is just my fun lil side project cause professor Reid is a NEED but I am, for better or for worse, too woke to make it x student. So here’s an almost 30-year-old assistant professor reader instead. gif by the best @reidgif
you’re elle greenaway’s little sister, although you don’t exactly go around advertising that (the last name says enough). just when you think you’ve wrapped enough barbed wire around yourself to become impenetrable, in walks spencer reid. he’s not what you expected. but maybe — just maybe — he’s exactly what you need.
✃ meet the reader here!
this isn’t a traditional series, per se — it’s a character archetype universe showcasing the slow burn between greenaway!reader & everyone’s favorite boy wonder, dr. spencer reid.
highly suggest reading as a series/in order, but the first 7 parts (up to/including liquid courage) can technically be read as standalone oneshots. things start to get more interconnected after that!
universe timeline begins in mid-s3 of criminal minds
⤷ elle greenaway left the BAU without saying goodbye. a year later, you, her little sister, walk in without saying hello. you wear burgundy lipstick, leather boots, and emotional armor. you won’t let anyone get close. or… will you?
blackout | ⚡︎ ❀
⤷ a power outage strands you and reid in the basement records room. his flashlight is useless, your lighter keeps flickering out, and you’re pretty sure you said too much — but somehow, he never makes you regret it.
bullseye | ❀
⤷ you didn’t plan on staying late at the bar, hustling reid at darts, or flirting with him after trivia. you definitely didn’t plan on the coffee waiting on your desk the next morning, either.
hot topic | ❀⚡︎ᢉ𐭩
⤷ after an injury in the field, you patch spencer up with a skull-print bandage. he gets a little jealous, you get a little deflective, and a quiet moment passes at 30,000 feet where you both admit more than you mean to.
fever dream | ꩜ ❀
⤷ you don’t get sick. you don’t let coworkers into your apartment. and you definitely don’t have vivid, full-body sex dreams about spencer reid. except today, apparently, you do all three. 18+ MDNI
night watch | ❀ ⚡︎
⤷ ever since he showed up at your apartment (and ever since that fever dream you’re pretending didn’t happen), you’ve avoided being alone with reid. unfortunately, hotch has another plan: assigning the two of you to an overnight stakeout.
liquid courage | ❀
⤷ you never call anyone when you’re drunk — except tonight, you do. margaritas, glitter, and one reckless drunk dial later, you’re in spencer reid’s car at 1am, wearing his coat and trying not to notice how good he smells.
head rush | ❀ ⚡︎
⤷ dayton, ohio. one asshole cop, one concussion, six hours of stay-awake poker, and a kiss that makes you see stars — right up until you slam on the brakes.
lies | ⚡︎
⤷ after ohio, you rebuild your armor and pretend the kiss didn’t happen. two weeks of awkward distance, a charged moment at the gun range, and a stairwell conversation later, you tell spencer the cruelest lie you can think of. it should end there — but then he finds the only evidence that can prove you wrong.
truths | ⚡︎ ❀ ᢉ𐭩
⤷ spencer shows up at your door with irrefutable proof you’ve been lying — to him and to yourself — but that doesn’t stop you from trying to deny it anyway. what follows is a late-night reckoning: small truths, careful boundaries, and the soft kind of honesty you usually run from.
adagio | ❀
⤷ at work, you and spencer try out adagio tempo until a hotel room debrief tests just how slow you can go.
heart eyes | ❀
⤷ spencer tries to focus on the case, but watching you translate grief into gentleness ruins his concentration until morgan snaps him out of it. // ficlet written for my 1k celebration event!
limited exposure | ⚡︎ ❀
⤷ at rossi’s book release party, the team’s playful teasing pushes you and reid’s “not-a-relationship” into a quiet fight, a real apology, and a red-velvet photo booth that develops more than just pictures.
october nights | ❀
⤷ you can’t hide the fact you love autumn from anyone — especially spencer. he gives you all the best parts of the season in a single day: leaves in the park, halloween decorations, classic horror films, and a night that spooks you in a way you hadn’t planned for.
scorpio season | ❀
⤷ you’ve never been a fan of birthdays, but celebrating spencer (and reluctantly allowing him to celebrate you too) might just change your mind.
raincheck | ❀ ᢉ𐭩
⤷ you finally say yes when spencer asks to take you on a real date, but work interrupts the night before the entrees arrive.
shelter from the storm | ⚡︎ ᢉ𐭩 ꩜
⤷ in the cold aftermath of a fight left unresolved, you & spencer get stranded as a storm rolls in. with the roads underwater and only one vacant room at the motel, you’re left with nowhere else to run but straight into him. 18+, MDNI. sfw/under 18 version
call it what you want | ⚡︎ ❀
⤷ things between you and spencer are perfect, right up until a flirty grad student and a mandatory ethics training force you to decide what, exactly, to call the thing you’ve been pretending doesn’t need a name.
wear & tear | ꩜
⤷ after a brutal week on a case and an evening at o’keefe’s spent hiding your relationship from the team, you and spencer finally get each other alone — and your fishnets do not survive the night. 18+, MDNI.
operation mystery girl | ᢉ𐭩 ❀
⤷ when the team realizes spencer has a secret girlfriend, garcia launches a glitter-covered investigation that’s equal parts profiling and meddling. the only problem? their “mystery girl” profile is so wrong it hurts — and then the case cracks wide open, whether you’re ready or not.
tethered | ᢉ𐭩
⤷ spencer has spent so long being the one who steadies you, up until an unsub he sees too much of himself in knocks him off-balance. he asks for space but ends up at your door anyway, and you become the tether you didn’t know he needed. coming soon
& more, coming soon!
extras
⟢ headcanons 1 | 2 | 3 | 4
⟢ apartment moodboard
⟢ text messages 📱💬 | text messages pt 2
⟢ hotch & emily’s relationship w/ reader
⟢ why won’t greenaway!reader just go for spencer if he clearly likes her?
⟢ why greenaway!reader not have black cat if greenaway!reader have black cat energy? 🐈⬛
⟢ spencer said he “notices things” about reader. what does he notice?
⟢ is it really a slow burn if they’ve clearly been into each other from the start? 🤔
⟢ why is greenaway!reader so avoidant/afraid of relationships?
⟢ greenaway!reader’s complex relationship with her sister Elle
⟢ greenaway!reader pinterest finds
⟢ how would greenaway!reader react to spencer going to prison? / part 2
⟢ things spencer has said to greenaway!reader that made reader not want to run
⟢ greenaway!reader marathon event
I’m constantly yapping about this series/reader, so check out the #greenaway!reader tag for even more content!
Warnings: Angst, loss acceptance (in the bad way), sad Steve, reader goes through what Max did, depiction of Steve holding a body, reader is in a coma, hurt/slight comfort. SEASON 5 SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT
Summary: I've been thinking a lot about how Steve would react if anything happened to his partner in association with the upside down, and how utterly broken he would be. This is basically that.
Authors Note: This is my first post on this app :p I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!!!! I will continue this if it's liked, though. Don't wanna leave anyone hanging!
.-`,
It had been eighteen months. Eighteen months since Steve last saw your face. Eighteen months since he held you and told you that you and him could make it through this last battle. Eighteen months since he saw the false hope in your face when you finally nodded.
He thought about it every now and again, how he promised you that you could both get out of Hawkins, only to have you limp in his arms no longer than an hour later. He’d been over it in his head thousands of times, how he could’ve done something different. Anything different.
It wasn’t until Max, who’d met the same fate that you had, woke up. Until that one moment. Until he saw Lucas holding Max like glass, that he had an inkling that he could get you back. The hope died as quickly as it came, because he couldn’t do that again. For the last eighteen months, he had sat by your side, playing that same song that only left a bitter taste in his mouth as he cupped your face, checking to make sure that you hadn’t spontaneously been replaced by a wax replica. For eighteen months, he had hoped, every day at 4pm, that you would wake up.
He doesn’t mean to be an utter dickwad to Max, he just can’t stand the reminder of what he’s lost. Every time that Lucas helps her, gets her water, even just stands by her, it fills his chest with this– this awful feeling. Resentment isn’t the right word, no, it’s pure and full hatred. Hatred for Vecna, for the upside down, for you ever being brought into any of this, and most of all, that Max was awake, and you weren’t. He couldn’t cope.
—
It had been a day since Max woke up, and Steve was inconsolable. Not to mention, a prick. He was sitting in the lobby of the squawk, picking at his hands, when Lucas wheeled Max in. He left before they could get a word in. He couldn’t feel happy for them, not when his whole future was ripped away from him because of a damn walkman breaking. Not when he could never see your face in any other way than vacant.
He brushed past Robin, walking outside. It was cruel thinking this way, but Lucas wouldn’t bring Max out there, so he didn’t have to worry about seeing them. The door swung shut behind him, only to be opened again by Dustin, concern– and a type of anger– draped across his face. Dustin spoke first.
“You know, you can’t just avoid them forever. They both look up to you, Steve,” he says, gesturing his hand toward the squawk. Steve scoffs, looking back at the teenager incredulously.
“Yeah? Watch me, Henderson.” He walks further away from the door, not exactly looking forward to someone else hearing him. “You don’t know what I can do, you haven’t been around.”
“Thats not fair, you haven’t either.” Dustin adds, chasing after him, “That’s not even what I’m here for–”
“Well, I don’t want to hear it Dustin. You can’t imagine for a second what it feels like to see them happy. To see them together.” Dustin says his name, which is cut off by a now-agitated Steve, continuing his rant. “To see him be able to hold her, while my girlfriend is still stuck like she was? And she hasn’t even bothered to say whether she saw her or not, Dustin. I’m tired of everyone walking on eggshells around me like I’ll break if she’s brought up. I’m tired of the pity in everyone’s faces. I can’t do it anymore, dude.”
“Are you done?” Dustin cuts in, nodding when Steve gestures toward him expectantly, “Well, Max said she saw her. In a memory, once.”
Steve pauses for a second, then turns toward Dustin with a certain type of fury in his eyes. “Fuck you, dude. You can’t play around like that,—” “I’m not. She said she saw her. Once, in a memory. A place that she couldn’t have actually been. She’s still there, Steve.”
The fury on Steve’s face fades, now laced with a weird mix of confusion and disbelief, and worst of all, hope. “So, you’re saying.. You’re saying I can get her back? I thought that Will didn’t see her.”
Dustin nods, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder. “That’s because she wasn’t there when he saw through the hive mind, she’s somewhere else lost in his mind.”
He takes a beat, squeezing Steve’s shoulder, “Max says she just needs to be found, Steve.”
warnings: angst, cuss words, jealousy, steve is rude, not proofread (yet!) and maybe more. idk SET IN SEASON 5 SO SPOILERS
Summary: You’re in love with Steve and Robin says he feels the same way back. So why does Steve keep on choosing Nancy Wheeler over you? Why is he trying so hard to impress her?
Authors Note: idk how to fell about this chapter… TAGLIST WILL REFRESH EACH CHAPTER BECAUSE SO MANY PEOPLE WANT TO BE ON IT SO CLAIM YOUR SPOT EACH CHAPTER!!
Your footsteps echo against the floor, the sound swallowed almost immediately by the thick and humming air. Your flashlight flickers every so often, casting everything in a yellow glow. Steve walks a few feet in front of you, shoulders tense like he’s bracing for something to jump out at him.
Since the group separated, you and Steve haven’t said a single word to each other.
You clear your throat. “So… does anything look like a shield generator up there?”
Steve doesn’t look back. “Just looks like a hallway.”
“Wow.” You mutter. “Super insightful.”
He stops walking.
Slowly, he turns to face you, jaw clenched. “You don’t have to come at me like that.”
“You don’t have to act like I’m not here.” You fire back, harsher than you meant. Steve exhales through his nose, running a hand through his hair.
“I just think.” He says carefully. “That you’d probably be more comfortable doing this with your boyfriend.”
Your face scrunches up in confusion. “Boyfriend?”
He gestures vaguely behind you, not meeting your eyes. “Byers. Y’know. Since you were all over him—“ He cuts himself off, jaw flexing. “Whatever it’s none of my business.”
A bitter laugh escapes you before you could stop it. “Jonathan? Really?”
Steve finally looks at you.
“Since when do you care?” You shoot back. “You’ve been glued to Nancy all day. Shoot, yesterday too!”
“That’s not the same.”
“Oh?” You step closer, lowering your voice. “Because it looks pretty similar from where I’m standing. You ask me whats wrong, then tune me out while you’re staring at Nance.”
His mouth opens. Then closes.
For a second, it looks like he might actually say something honest. Instead, he turns away. “We should keep moving.”
Your heart tightens. “Yeah. That’s what you’re good at.”
The silence is heavier than before. Almost suffocating.
You turn away first and duck into the nearest open room. Not to look for this so called shield generator but just to get some space from him. There’s not much, just a few desks and chairs.
Back in the hall, Steve keeps walking. His footsteps fading and then stopping.
You turn your flashlight off, staring at pure darkness as you took a few deep breathes. You don’t understand why Steve is so different now. You fell in the love with the Steve who worked at Scoops Ahoy, who protected the kids anytime there’s danger, the one who was actually sweet to you. Now, he’s just all obsessed with Nancy and always arguing with Dustin.
You miss your Steve.
BANG.
You flinch, heart jumping straight into your throat.
Then another— harder and louder this time. You flick your flashlight back on and run out of the room, shoes skidding slightly on the floor.
Steve’s a few doors down, squared up in front of a closed door.
BANG.
He slams his foot the door.
“Steve!” You shout, hurrying towards him. “What are you doing?!”
He doesn’t answer, kicking the door again and it finally bursts open. “What the fuck?”
The whole room looks off. The stairs are melted, warped and uneven. There’s gray stuff dripping all around the walls— everything just looked melted.
“What is that?” You ask, staying behind Steve. He shrugs, stepping inside the room and going up the weird looking stairs.
You follow him inside, every step careful as your shoes stick slightly to the floor. The stairs groan under Steve’s weight, metal bending in places where it should be solid.
The gray substance clings to everything— the rails, the floor, the ceilings, the walls, the vents. In some spots it’s hardened and cracked, in others it still looked wet.
Your flashlight catches movement that well, isn’t movement at all. A shape along the wall that is horrifying.
A melted soldier stuck in the gray substance.
Steve sees it as well. The soldier is half embedded into the wall, torso fused into the gray stuff as if he’d been swallowing it mid run. His arms were stretched forward, face panicked.
“Oh—“ Steve swallows hard. “Jesus.”
There’s another one a few feet ahead except this one is on the floor, body fused into the floor. His legs were missing and his face looked like a melted candle stick.
Your stomach twists.
You take a shaky step back, your shoulder brushing with Steve’s arm. He reacts instantly, reaching back without looking. His hand finds your forearm, warm and steady.
“Hey.” He murmurs. “It’s okay.”
You don’t answer, but you don’t pull away either. Instead, your fingers curl into his sleeve, grounding yourself in something safe. He adjusts his grip, sliding his arm around yours, keeping you close.
Neither of you say anything.
You move as one, slow and cautious, navigating around the bodies stuck in the walls and floors. Every time you see one, your grip tightens. And each time, Steve squeezes your arm with reassurance.
The two of you take another stairs, going through another soldier filled hallway until you reach the end. There’s a metal door with the words FIRE EXIT on top.
Steve goes to push the door, hesitating for a quick second before fully pushing it. Cold air hits your face.
It’s just the top of the lab. Nothing up here but a couple of rails, ladders, more of the melted stuff, and a clear view of the Upside Down, Hawkins.
You finally ease your arm out of Steves, the contact lingering for half a second before you step away. You move across the roof slowly, reaching a section of the roof that was open. The building was a whole thing, but there was a space that didn’t connect the buildings. You could walk around it but when you peer down, it’s just dark.
You circle the opening, sweeping your flashlight along the edges, across the railings, the goo, and the sky.
Something feels… off.
You move the light again, slower this time.
The beam of your flashlight warps, like it’s hitting something it shouldn’t be. A shadow forms where there shouldn’t be one, round and hovering in the air above the square opening.
“Steve?” You call, not raising your voice.
“What?” He jogs over, stopping beside you. “You okay?”
You don’t answer right away. You just angle your flashlight again, letting the beam skim across the same spot revealing the round shape. “Do you see that?”
Steve shines his flashlight at it as well, revealing more of the shape. “Something’s there.” Without even thinking, Steve hurls his flashlight at the shape.
“Seriously? Now you don’t have a flashlight.” You say.
“We can share.”
The invisible thing reacts when hit, veins of electricity crawling across nothing, like lightning in glass. The flashes pulse and then disappear as if nothing happened.
“Looks like we found it.”
Steve lowers his arm, staring at the empty air where the lightening bolts had been. “Yeah.” He says slowly. “That’s gotta be it.”
He reaches for the radio, pressing the button. “Henderson, we found the generator. You copy?” Static crackles back, uneven. “Dustin, we found something on top!”
Muffled voices come out but neither of you can hear anything. It didn’t sound urgent though.
“We’re out of range.”
You nod once, eyes still locked on the invisible sphere. You pull out the gun.
Steve turns. “Woah— what are you doing? Shouldn’t we wait for Nancy?”
You exhale sharply through your nose. Nancy this, Nancy that!
You point at the sphere, taking the safety off before you press down on the trigger.
The shot rings out sharp and loud, the recoil jolting up your arm as the bullet slams into the invisible surface. Blue and white light fracture across the dome before very quickly turning red and black, veins of electricity ripping outward in every direction. It gets bigger and louder before exploding from the pressure.
You and Steve get launched back and everything cuts out.
Black.
Cold.
That’s what pulls Steve back.
Something wet and cold hits Steves cheek. He flinches, eyes snapping open as another drop lands on his face. He goes to wipe his face but can’t, his fingers covered in the goo.
He looks around really quickly. He’s not on the roof anymore. It’s a room. The ceiling is sagging overhead, cracked open in seams where the goo seeps through and falls steadily, the room quickly filling up.
Y/N.
He crawls to your body, panic clawing its way up his throat as he tries to wake you up. “Y/N! Y/N?” He shakes your shoulder.
Your eyes snap open with a sharp gasp.
“Hey—hey, it’s okay.” Steve says quickly, relief crashing over him so hard it almost knocks him over. He doesn’t let go of your shoulder.
You blink up at him, disoriented. A part of the ceiling bursts open, like it was a water balloon, but instead of water, goo falls out like a waterfall.
“What—“ You choke, eyes widening as you try to sit up. Steve slides an arm behind your back and helps you upright, keeping you steady when your hand slips against the slick floor. The gray substance is already to your guys’ calves.
Your eyes dart around the room, spotting a door. “There!”
He rushes to the door and yanks the handle but it breaks off.
Behind him you scramble to your feet, almost slipping. The goo is thicker now, tugging at your every movement like it wants to pull you under. “Steve.” You say, voice tight. “It’s rising!”
“I know.” He says, eyes already scanning the room. There was a table and a few chairs.
The ceiling groan above you, another seam splitting open as more gray goo pours down. The walls look soft and warped, like they could give away at any second.
“Okay.” He says quickly, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards one of the chairs. “Help me with this.”
The two of you try to pull the chair out of the goo but the goo is too strong. It resists so Steve just snaps a leg off. “We can break it.”
He grabs your hand again, dragging you back to the door. He swings the broken leg into the door.
Once. Twice.
On the third hit, the door cracks open just enough for something to force its way through. The goo gushes out immediately, flooding in faster than before. It was now just below your knees.
“Shit— shit!” Steve staggers back, grabbing you around the waist and hauling you away as the room fills at an alarming speed.
Steve’s eyes snap to the table. “The table!”
You both splash through the goo, every step harder than the last. He braces the table with both hands. “Come on.”
You don’t argue. You grab his shoulders and he lifts, muscles straining as he hoists you up onto the tabletop. The surface is slick but solid— for now. You scramble to sit, legs tucked in.
Steve climbs up after you, shoes dripping gray goo onto the wood. The table wobbles but holds. For a second, you just sit there, breathing hard and watching the goo rise up more and more.
Then Steve cups his hands around his mouth. “HELLO?” He yells. “HELP! DUSTIN! HELP!”
You follow immediately, your voice echoing off the walls. “HELP!!”
The goo keeps rising, creeping up the legs of the table.
Your voice cracks as you yell, desperation laced in your voice. “HELP!! ANYONE—“
“Y/N.” Steve’s voice cuts through it, sharp but low.
You don’t stop! “JONATHAN? NANCY—“
“Y/N, stop.” He grabs your wrist, not hard, but firm enough to get you to look at him. “Stop.”
You stare at him, chest heaving. “They’ll come.” You say, but it sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself more than him. “They’ll hear us.”
Steve swallows, moving his hand from your wrist to your palm. He intertwines your fingers with his. “…They aren’t coming.”
Your breath stutters. The words land, heavy and final. Something in you just… breaks.
Your face crumbles, a sob tears out of your chest before you could stop it. You squeeze his hand shakily like it’s the only thing keeping you anchored as tears spill over.
Steve’s grip tightens immediately.
“Hey— hey…” He murmurs. He shifts closer on the table, knees knocking into yours as the goo laps higher beneath you. He lets go of your hand just long enough to cup your face, thumbs brushing under your eyes without even thinking about the mess coating his fingers.
“I’ve got you.” He says softly. “I got you.”
He leans in, resting his forehead against yours. He squeezes his eyes shut for a second, like he’s holding himself together. You can feel his breath shaking against your lips, the way his hands tremble against your face.
“I’m sorry.” You choke out, “I shouldn’t have— I shouldn’t have shot it—“
“No. Don’t do that.” His forehead presses harder to yours. “It’s not your fault.”
After your foreheads stay pressed together for a long, heavy moment he pulls away, he doesn’t let go of your face. Just moves far enough to look at you.
“I—I’ve been an idiot.”
You look up at him through your tears. “What?”
He looks down, swallowing. “I’ve been… purposely choosing Nancy.”
You pull your face away, his hands falling. “You what?”
Steve finally looks at you, setting his hands in his lap. “You got mad when I climbed the tower. I thought… maybe… if you saw me with her more, if you saw me chasing her, maybe… maybe it’d make you notice me more. I don’t know jealous. Make you… make you care.”
You blink at him, disbelief and hurt colliding in your chest. “So, you were purposely trying to hurt me.”
“No! No! I just wanted you to want me!”
“Are you an idiot? I do want you! I’ve always wanted you! Why do you think I even do all this dumb Upside Down bullshit? Not because I’m related to anyone in the group. Not because my sister got taken. No, for you! I’m here for you.”
Steve just stares at you.
Like the words didn’t land right away. Like they’re echoing around his head, bouncing off everything he misunderstood. His eyes flick over your face looking, searching for any sign of you lying.
“You—“ His voice cracks. He clears his throat. “Y/N, I didn’t— I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t— I thought… I thought you were just—“
“You thought what?” You snap, tears still streaming but from anger. “That I was just there? That I’d wait around for you forever?”
“No! That’s not it at all!” He reaches out, wanting to touch you again but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Y/N, please just understand—“
The sound comes before you even register the movement.
SMACK.
Your hand connects with his cheek, sharp and loud in the room. The sting shoots up your arm, your palm burning as the sound echoes off the warped walls.
Steve freezes.
His head turns slightly with the force, jaw tightening, breath catching. At first, he doesn’t even look at you. But when he does, his eyes are wide. Not angry or upset, just stunned.
“Don’t.” You jag your finger into his chest. “Don’t apologize like that fixes anything.” Your chest heaves as you wipe at your face. “You don’t get to mess with my feelings, Steve.”
He brings a hand up to his cheek, feeling the sting. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I deserved that. I was selfish and scared… I played with your feelings.”
You laugh bitterly, shaking your head. “And here I was giving you the benefit of the doubt!”
He stays silent.
“If we weren’t going to die… would you have said anything?”
“…I… I don’t know.”
You don’t respond, staring into your lap. You didn’t know what to feel. Sad? Mad? Scared that you were about to die? Did you really want your last emotion before dying to be anger? What do you do?
“Y/N…”
You sigh, rolling your eyes. “What now, Steve?”
He doesn’t say anything. Your head snaps up to his, following his line of sight. The goo, it’s not moving anymore. There’s no goo leaking in or anything. You watch as he moves his leg to dip it in the goo but he can’t because it’s now solid.
He can’t help it, his shoulders shake with laughter and relief. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Holy fuck!”
You touch the goo as well, all that anger and sadness you just felt disappearing. The two of you jump up, walking over the goo. “Oh my god!!”
Steve spins you around without even thinking, throwing his arms around you in a tight and messy hug. You squeal, wrapping your arms around him too, holding on impossibly tight.
Then reality creeps back in. Steve Harrington was purposely playing with you. You pull away, clearing your throat awkwardly.
BANG.
A small part of the wall crumbles, dust and debris showering down. A familiar figure bursts through the broken wall, Jonathan’s face coming into view. He looks relieved, letting out a breath of air.
Not enough noise about Lucas’ pleading to keep Kate Bush playing despite the demos coming in. Not enough noise about his little anguished face in that moment. Not enough noise about them all deciding okay. for Max.
you turned into your worst fears and you're tossing out blame, drunk on this pain, crossing out the good years!
summary: steve harrington used to be the person you'd go to for anything but after the events of 86', the invisible string between you has been severed beyond repair. after vecna cursed you and max, perhaps luck was on your side as she lay still in hawkins hospital; but was it really luck if you're stuck between dustin and steve at each others throats in the upside down, voicing opinions you thought you could repress for the rest of your life?
warnings: set in s5 but briefly covers previous seasons, angst, loneliness, cursing, mentions of death, steve's a little mean but we cover why in the next part, generally sad reader, angsty-ish ending (for now!), slight change in plot, we love nancy wheeler in this house, 1K word intro / exposure whaaaattt
(this is pure angst i'm sorry (not really) but there will be a part two! ...and maybe part three idk i'm improvising / also i'm pro-yapper so everything is super extended it's becoming an issue lol)
word count: 4.7K
part two,, part three,,
steve harrington x fem!reader
(STRANGER THINGS S5 VOLUME 2 SPOILERS)
𝐑𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 'good times' simply solidify the ideology that they’re never coming back. What was once the life you lived freely, unaware of the sheer jealousy your future self would feel, was now only a memory, something you wished you could live vicariously through.
But who could blame a girl for wanting the days where she wasn’t tormented by another being that she had failed, let down everyone she loved and the mere existence of her was at the expense of someone else, someone more innocent and had life behind her eyes.
You’d prefer to say that Hawkins was like living in hell than go down the wormhole of suppressed feelings. And the fact that you couldn’t leave this mess of a town due to the military quarantining you and everyone you wished to avoid, validates your statement that Hawkins had it out for you.
Everyone suffered in the spring of 1986, the group was severed and discovered that everything they thought they knew about the Upside Down was wrong; everything they had already fought was just the beginning.
Over time, everyone moved on. Distanced themselves from the reality they lived out 18 months ago and focused on the now, how they could save Hawkins after Vecna had fulfilled his promise.
But it’s harder to move on when it should’ve been you lying in Hawkins Hospital, heart monitor steady and face pale, your body still as the doctor insisted you were in a coma. You should’ve been sick of the stench of the hospital, annoying everyone that came to visit you as you showed no signs of waking up anytime soon.
It should’ve been your walkman resting on the bedside table, headphones draped loosely around your neck after everyone got fed up of hearing the same song on repeat, binning out the boombox and preferring to have the music reserved for your ears only.
But it wasn’t you. In some twisted reality you called normality, Max Mayfield was the one who suffered the fate that was designed for you.
You visited her often, not only because you babysitted her throughout her childhood and made it known to everyone that she was your favourite of the group, but because your endless guilt forced you to sit in the chair beside her bed, staring at the reminder that you had failed; and everyone around you was too nice to say it to your face.
In the time that you had held Max’s hand with your own clammy palm, you had grown accustomed to seeing Lucas almost every day and muttering the same mantra to his hopeless face: “I’m sorry. I did everything I could.”
And Lucas would interrupt you every time, “Don’t ever be sorry. I’m glad you’re here.”
At least someone could put a soft smile on your face as Hawkins crumbles around you.
You wished you could confide in him but he was still a kid battling with his own issues, high school still relevant as he tried to keep the town from falling apart, the love of his life was unconscious and his best friend had changed severely within the 18 months, much like the rest of you.
One name rang around your mind as you searched for an output, someone you wished you could let in and not feel so alone. But whatever friendship or connection you had with Steve Harrington was in the past, and it seemed adamant to stay there.
Oh, Steve Harrington. The man you would go to for anything, whether that was fighting inter-dimensional creatures or dragging someone along to the movie you had been dying to watch and knew you could convince him with the promise of paying for him; although he would never let you, he preferred to enjoy your company.
You remembered the way he refused to let go of your hand as you ventured below Starcourt Mall and how he promised he would keep you safe as you sat back to back, mind running a million thoughts as you dreaded what the Russians would do to you.
How could you forget when you sat on the bathroom floor, sandwiched in the stalls between Steve and Robin as their words were prompted by the ‘truth serum’. And how Steve admitted that he had fallen in love with someone else after Nancy Wheeler.
Of course, his admission was cut short by Dustin barging into the bathrooms, his posture reeking of stress and urgency, enough to get the three of you on your feet and any further words trapped behind the burning walls of Starcourt Mall.
Then as Vecna forced his way into your lives and targeted you and Max, you felt your sanity snatched out from under your feet and Steve’s hands to support you as you convinced yourself you were losing your mind.
He used to have your walkman and favourite song tucked into the backpack Dustin carried everywhere, refusing to let you leave the house or out of his sight without it in touching distance. You’d tell him that it was manifesting a bad outcome, but he’d scoff and say, “I don’t care. As long as you’re safe.”
To say you were fond of Steve Harrington was an understatement. You had been harbouring a crush on him for a while now, but who didn’t?
How could you not fall for Steve “The Hair” Harrington?
Steve with his perfect hair and handsome face, with a laugh you could recognise anywhere. Perhaps it was the way he looked at you that made it easy to become enamoured with him, how his eyes would soften whenever you spoke up and how even in the darkest times, he would cup your face and make sure the only thing you saw was him.
You could feel the ghost of his hand brush against the small of your back whenever you stood alone in the group as they discussed the crawls, reminding you of the man that now stood on the opposite side of the room to you and how he used to be your anchor back to reality.
You were told good things never last, but you never put Steve Harrington into the category of things you could lose.
You found yourself pushing him away the second Max closed her eyes and they never reopened. The last words Steve spoke directly to you were reassurances whispered into your hair, his arms wrapped around your frame as your body shook from hearing the final chime of the clock, confirming your fears that Max had been cursed one final time.
You shut yourself out from everyone. It was expected, but no one made the effort to drag your past self back to the surface, leaving her drowning in the sorrow that the spring of 86’ provided.
You understood that it shouldn’t be you standing here listening to the group relay ideas for the crawl, it should’ve been a redhead tucked under Lucas’ arm who mocked any stupid ideas that Mike would throw out.
To remove yourself from the equation was easier than accepting that the past cannot be changed.
If your lack of inclusion in the group was the closest you could reach to the fate that was written under your name, then it was what you would conform to. No matter how much it hurts to feel pitying eyes on your form.
"𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋, 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 really promising.” Steve sighed as his flashlight scaled the walls of the lab, falling behind Dustin’s hurried steps.
How you found yourself in the Upside Down’s version of Hawkins Lab with Steve, Nancy, Jonathan and Dustin and tensions high was a question you wished you could say was unanswered. But after driving Steve’s precious beamer into a wall and following Dustin’s throw-in-the-dark idea, your day had already decided to suck.
“We’re in the lobby.” Dustin huffed. If you thought you were outward with your uncomfortable situation with Steve, Dustin made sure he won that argument.
You walked beside Nancy as she furrowed her brows at the surroundings, “And… where are we going exactly?” She tilted her head.
“Right. Like, what is it we’re looking for?” Jonathan asked as he looked at Dustin. “You’ve all seen Return of the Jedi?” Dustin said.
You stumbled to a stop as your heart clenched uncomfortably. You were the one who introduced the franchise to Steve. When he secured his job at Family Video beside you and Robin, you made sure he knew some recent films and found yourselves brushing shoulders on movie nights and watching his brows screw up as he tried to understand the plot.
You felt a pair of eyes burning into the side of your face. “The one with the teddy bears?” Steve mumbled.
“Ewoks.” You and Dustin said in unison, “Yeah, it’s the best one.” Steve responded.
Nancy raised her eyebrows, “Is it?” Dustin scoffed, “No, but every child loves it, so tracks.” You pressed your lips together to prevent a small smile from appearing on your face. Nancy’s eyes flickered to you and noticed, her eyes softening as she watched a glimpse of your past self slip out.
“In the film, if you recall,” Dustin stepped forwards, “the rebels need to destroy a second Death Star, but it’s surrounded by a protective energy shield, which is created by a shield generator.”
“Yeah, cool. Thanks for the summary of a movie we’ve all seen.” Steve’s voice echoed around the lifeless lobby. Of course he remembered the film, despite watching it to satisfy you only, he understood the context to some extent.
“It could be relevant, Steve.” You cleared your throat, eyes glancing his way as he turned around to face you, his expression unreadable.
Dustin nodded in your direction, “Thank you!” He gestured to you before continuing his analogy, “Look, I think this circular flesh wall is Vecna’s version of an energy shield, except it’s not sci-fi.”
“It’s supernatural, created by Vecna’s dark magic. And this dark magic shield is what’s preventing us from reaching him and saving Holly.” You crossed your arms over your chest as the group huddled around Dustin. “But if my math is correct, the generator for the shield has to be in this lab.” He finished.
Jonathan stood between you and Steve, “So if we find this dark magic shield generator…” Even hearing the words come out of someone else’s mouth felt strange, you couldn’t believe you had been roped into this again.
Dustin nodded, “We destroy the wall.” You fiddled with your flashlight, “Find Vecna.”
“Save Holly.” Nancy finished your sentence, her sister being at the forefront of her mind.
“Medals for all.” You offered Dustin a tight smile as his sarcastic enthusiasm had you wanting to find this shield generator as soon as possible, needing to breathe after being suffocated in the uncomfortable tension.
Steve placed his hands on his hips, “And it looks like what?”
“How would you expect me to know that?” Dustin rolled his eyes and turned his back on the group. You let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed your face with your hands, squeezing your eyes shut and hoping that when they reopen, it’ll all be some sick illusion.
Steve scoffed as he watched the tension build in your shoulders, “If you’re gonna complain then you should just leave now. This wasn’t exactly our ideal location.”
You lifted your head and realised Steve’s annoyance was directed at you. Your face screwed up with confusion and your eyes darted between Nancy and Jonathan, “I’m not complaining. Where’d you get that from?”
Steve opened his mouth to retort but Nancy took a step forward to follow in Dustin’s trail, “We don’t have time for this.” She ordered and nodded for you to follow, not seeing her shoot Steve a disappointed gaze.
Jonathan cleared his throat to diffuse the tension, leaving Steve behind the pack and eyes trained on the back of the person he used to call his best friend.
Dustin shouldered the door open and you suppressed a groan when you made eye contact with two flights of stairs. “Up or down?” You asked.
“I say both. Search in two teams. Cover more ground.” Nancy concluded, keeping a tight grip on her bag thrown over her shoulder.
Steve nodded beside you, ignoring the way your shoulders touched in the tight space, “Yeah, that’s cool with me, but can we just switch the teams up?”
Your jaw clenched as you remembered all the times everyone would assume you and Steve were paired together in these situations. You suspected that he would want distance from you but to hear it out loud and under unfortunate circumstances made you want to bash your head into the wall.
“Nance, you and me to go up?” Nancy’s head snapped towards the brunette, her eyes wide, “Oh, I mean…” She shook her head.
“Are you serious?” Jonathan scoffed. You almost laughed at being situated in the middle of Steve and Jonathan as they battled it out for who could be more ‘macho’, as you and Nancy liked to call it.
“Us three,” Steve gestured at you and Dustin, “We need some space.”
Jonathan shrugged, “Fine. How about me and you? Then her and Nance?” You raised your brows, suddenly on board with the pairing options.
“I think we need some space too.” Steve shut down your ideal groups rather quickly.
“So everyone but Nancy. That’s just… It’s convenient.” Jonathan’s voice dropped as he glanced over at you staring at the floor, “I don’t get it. What are you trying to prove to her?” He jutted his thumb out in your direction.
You widened your eyes, “Me?” Steve closed his eyes and shook his head, “This has nothing to do with her.”
“How about this?” You raised your voice, hand rubbing your temple as their bickering started to give you a headache, “I’ll go alone. Three groups will be more beneficial.”
You lifted your flashlight and went to take a step in the other direction, but Nancy’s hand tugging you on the back of your shirt sent you stumbling back and crashing into Steve’s chest.
“You’re not going alone.” Nancy said firmly, refusing to let you out of anyone's sight.
You readjusted your footing and brushed your clothing as you leaned out of Steve’s touch, “Of course you wanted to go alone.” You heard him mutter under his breath.
Before you could respond, Nancy cut you off. “Hey, we don’t have time for this. Let’s just keep it simple, stick to the usual teams.” She shot you an apologetic look.
“Nance, please--” You groaned as Steve and Dustin offered her the same pleas, “I can’t--”
“End of discussion.” She raised her voice, her feet taking her up the stairs and avoiding the three frustrated looks directed at her. Jonathan patted you on the shoulder and whispered an apology under his breath as he brushed past you and followed Nancy, leaving Steve and Dustin to sigh in the wake.
Steve sighed and looked over at Dustin, “Awesome.” He said sarcastically. Dustin raised his brows and dragged his feet down the extensive amount of steps.
Steve turned to you and you looked up at him. You could recall the days when his eyes would soften when they met your own, a smile gracing his flushed face and hands raised to fix his hair, desperate to constantly look his best whenever you saw him.
Now those eyes felt like a void, you couldn’t decipher what he was feeling. “Just awesome.” He repeated and barged your shoulder slightly as he passed you.
You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, easing the tension and headache that was brewing. You reminded yourself that this was for the greater of Hawkins because if it was up to you, you would have sprinted out of the lab at the first chance than explore with your ex-best friend and the kid that hates his guts.
With each step you took, you felt the throbbing pain in your head get worse. It wasn’t unusual to get migraines with the stress you found yourself under constantly, but this one felt different.
It felt familiar.
The pain caused you to feel lightheaded, tripping on the last step and forcing a hand out on the wall to catch your fall. You clenched your teeth together and pressed the heel of your hand against your temple.
Steve heard heavy footsteps behind him and turned around, the beam of his flashlight shining right in your face, “You alright?” He asked, voice teetering on edge of concern.
You nodded and stuck a hand out to block the light shining at you, “Yeah, I’m good.” You lied through your teeth, pushing through the ache to follow Dustin who led the pair of you.
Steve nodded slowly and retracted his flashlight, “Okay, that was too many stairs.” He joked weakly, trying to diffuse the worry that flooded his body.
Dustin, unaware of the torment you were experiencing behind him, quoted, “Treasures are always hidden in the deepest depths of the dungeon.”
“What is it, a treasure or a magic shield generator? Keep your metaphors straight, dude.” Steve said as he turned his back on you.
You sighed, “Analogy.” You whispered to yourself, correcting his statement but lacking the care to fight with him once again.
Steve and Dustin strode forward, pushing on the double doors to reveal a room designed for kids. Rainbows were painted on the floors and walls and games were scattered all over the floor.
“Did not expect to find a daycare in this hellhole.” Steve felt his heart rate pick up at the dystopian room, “That’s a perk.”
You entered the room and leaned your back against the wall, eyes squeezing shut as it felt like someone was toying with your brain, prodding at it until you cracked. You didn’t even notice begin to leave the room until his frustration boiled over.
“While I search the rest of the basement, why don’t you stay here and play with your balls?” He chucked the object back at Steve, “Perfect, yeah.” Steve clenched his jaw.
The pair bickered back and forth before Dustin left with a scowl on his face. You leaned over to watch his figure retreating and turned to Steve who hoisted himself up to sit on one of the desks.
You interrupted the silence, “So I take it you two don’t get along anymore.” You crossed your arms over your chest and pushed yourself to stand upright.
Steve scoffed, “What would you know? You haven’t been here.”
Your movement halted, “I’ve been here.” You squinted at him as he rested his elbows on his knees.
“You’ve been here,” Steve gestured to your figure, “But here,” He tapped the side of his head, tongue wedged between his teeth in frustration, “You’re somewhere else. And you have been for the last 18 months.”
Your breathing shallowed, “That’s called grief, Steve. We all go through it.”
“But what are you grieving? That’s what I don’t get.” He snapped, eyes meeting your own as you shrunk under his hard gaze.
“Max.” Her name felt wrong on the tip of her tongue. You refused to say it for months after she was admitted into hospital, the reminder of the redhead had you wanting to hurl on the floor of the lab.
Steve let out a loud laugh, “You’re grieving someone that’s not even dead! What are the chances that Max wakes up during all of this? Pretty damn high if you ask me.” He ran his hand through his hair and watched your face screw up in sheer disgust at his words.
Steve licked his lips, “You know, I think you secretly wanted this.”
You felt your heart stop in your chest, “What?”
You watched the brunette nod, “I think you’ve been spiralling for a while now and used this whole Max and Vecna situation as an excuse. You were barely affected during the curse and now you’ve decided to make it everyone else’s problem.”
The difference is, you were affected. And Steve knew it.
Who was the one who held you as you recalled your first vision, hands shaking and kisses peppered along your hairline. The same man who basically told you that you had it easy that spring, that you’re living off the thrill of being cursed a handful of times.
You turned your back on him, “I’m not doing this right now.” You heard him shout as you pushed the double doors open, “Shutting me out once again!”
You hurried out the room, not baring to stand the sight of his face again. You feel a bile rise in the back of your throat, the noises of the dormant lab suffocate you, and the throbbing pain between your skull intensifies.
You hadn’t noticed anything was wrong until you saw a drop of red stain your sweater. Your head snapped down and tugged at the material to gain a closer look.
Your eyes widened and you lifted your hand to touch under your nose. Retracting your hand, you saw that the tips of your fingers were painted red.
“Shit.” You cursed and tugged the sleeves of your sweater over your hands, wiping the blood that streamed from your nose onto the material.
You furrowed your brows as you racked your brain for the last time your nose decided to spontaneously bleed. It was so out of the ordinary that you couldn’t remember.
A light behind a door caught your eye. It looked out of place, like whatever was behind it was not meant to be there. Your feet carried you towards it before your brain comprehend what was going on.
Just as you placed the palm of your hand against the door, inches away from pushing it open, you heard a loud crash from the room you were previously in.
Your mind running a million different worst case scenarios, you sprinted towards the noise. As you got closer, you heard familiar yells and curses, the sound of items cluttering to the floor made your heart pick up.
Skidding around the corner, you stumbled into the room panting. Your eyes locked onto Steve as he sat up, groaning in pain, “You know what, man? I’m done.” He slowly clambered to his feet, ignoring your worried gaze.
“I’m done!” He shouted and barged against your shoulder as you stood in the doorway, eyes flickering between a beaten Dustin on the floor and Steve who had a fresh bruise forming on his cheek.
Putting two and two together, you tugged Steve back by gripping onto his jacket, “What the fuck just happened?” You raised your voice, on the heels of Steve as he tried to shake off your hold.
“None of your business.” His voice broke as he refused to spare Dustin a second glance, hearing his voice echo down the hallways, “You dumb, fake asshole!”
You let out an exasperated sigh and swallowed your nerves, “I think it’s my business when you scare the shit out of me!” You yanked him to a stop and he looked past you, “Is that a bruise?”
Your fingers gently brushed the underside of Steve’s jaw before he slapped your hand away, “No--” “Did you get in a fight?” You furrowed your brows.
Steve placed his hands on your shoulders, “Can you stop?” His eyes locked onto the blood staining the sleeve of your sweater, furrowing his brows as he wondered when you had gotten hurt.
Through your concern, you failed to hear him, “Tell me what the hell happened--”
“God! You’re so ungrateful!” Steve yelled and you flinched slightly at the tone of voice, one he had never used on you before.
You squinted up at him, “Ungrateful?” You voiced your offence as your hands dropped from tending to his recent wounds, and his own dropped off your shoulders, finding home in gripping his jeans.
Steve bit down on his bottom lip as if what was spewing out of his mouth was the filtered half, “You’re standing here and breathing just fine by yourself! But guess who isn’t?”
Your breath hitched as your mind went to Max who lay still, hooked up to anything the hospital could find to classify her condition to be a coma, “Where are you going with this?” Your voice wavered.
“I’m saying that Max would’ve been grateful.” Steve’s response was enough to sever any chance of redeeming what you had. You could barely recognise the man standing in front of you, the one so overcome with anger that he wouldn’t understand the severity of his words until moments later.
You took a deep breath, “And I’m saying that you’re being a dick.”
“You got lucky that spring and you know it.” You took a step back from him, “You’re being mean, Steve.”
Steve looked down and huffed out a laugh, “And we’ve been telling you this whole time, ‘It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have done anything.’” You felt tears prickle at your eyes, “In my opinion, I think you could’ve done more--”
“Shut up!” You shouted and shoved him in the chest. “And if you hadn't left Max alone that night…”
Tears blurred your vision, “Are you saying that it should’ve been me?”
The silence should’ve been your answer. You should’ve left the second Steve didn’t immediately shut down the ludicrous statement. But your heart yearned to know the truth, to know what he had really thought about you since that night; if everything between you was simply a wrinkle in time, something that was never meant to exist but would ultimately be crushed by the harsh reality.
“Your interpretation. Not mine.” Steve mumbled.
You felt like you had been doused with cold water. It turns out Steve Harrington was the same man he was all those years ago. And to confirm your worst fears, to admit that he’d been lying to you the entire time you thought you could be falling in love with him; this was definitely the worst moment in your entire life.
You nodded weakly, a forced smile etched across your face, “And I’m the one who’s changed, right?”
Your words hit Steve like a truck, and if you disappearing out of his sight with tears cascading down your cheeks didn’t hurt enough, then the realisation of his words did.
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘, 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍, 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 and Dustin had all found each other after. They were hunched over the book Dustin had found before he could warn Nancy to not shoot whatever force they located in the sky.
Nancy chewed on the skin around her thumb, “No sign of her?”
Dustin shook his head after peering around a corner, “I haven’t seen her since…” His voice trailed off as he remembered his fight with Steve, regret forming in the pit of his stomach as a bruise formed on his friend’s cheek.
Steve looked like he could throw up any second. His face was pale and his hair was matted. He hadn’t seen you since he had said the words he wished he could forget, the way he had spoken to you and the way your face crumbled.
He didn’t mean any of it. Not one word.
He wishes to never relive the feeling he felt when he watched you walk away from him, and how he rounded the corner to meet Nancy and Jonathan and you weren’t beside them.
You were alone in the lab. And it was all Steve’s fault.
His ever present guilt was cut off but a guttural scream outside the lab. Nancy rose to her feet immediately and gasped, “What was that?”
Jonathan copied her movement, “What was what?”
Silence fell over the group as they listened in, “Holly.” Nancy whispered and dropped the items in her hand, sprinting towards the door with Jonathan hot on her tail.
Dustin made a move to follow them but Steve grabbed him by the arm, “Holly. She’s out of Vecna’s reach.” His chest tightened.
Dustin furrowed his brows, “What do you mean?”
“There’s 12 kids. If Holly’s out…” Steve muttered and Dustin’s eyes widened in realisation.
“Who’s in?” Dustin’s voice wavered and watched Steve’s eyes dart around the room.
Steve knew who Vecna was targeting the second his suspicions were confirmed. He remembered the blood staining the sleeve of your sweater, the headaches that made you feel dizzy and the way you looked uncomfortable the second you found yourself in the Upside Down.
You were Vecna’s next target and Steve Harrington had no idea where you were.
“you should be at the club” i should be by the sea. i should be in the mountains. i should be awestruck and rendered speechless by the majesty of the natural world. if you even care
it's kinda comforting to me when my friends are a little annoying or longwinded or abrasive or tired and inarticulate, or they don't do the exact politest thing in every interaction, and stuff, because I know I'm sometimes annoying, or take up a more than my share of conversational space, or forget to ask them questions, etc etc, and... like, I'm always working to be nice to my friends and to get better and better at friend-ing, but it just makes me feel more human about it :}
anyway I love you friends plz know I'm not counting, in fact I feel great affection toward you even (especially) when conversations go less than Perfectly Ideal
In mine and many other east Asian cultures, the dragon traditionally symbolises things like power, wealth and strength (imperial symbol and all)
I think we often forget that in the story of the Great Race, the dragon came in fifth because it'd stopped to give people rain. Then it'd stopped again to push a rabbit adrift on a log across the wide river so it reached the shore safely (that's why the Rabbit year comes before the Dragon).
Dragons aren't meant to just be powerful - they are meant to do good with such power, and to help those in need.
So in this lunar new year, I hope you gain more power, so that you might be able to help others. I pray you have abundant resources so you may give to yourself and those around you. I wish you courage, endurance, kindness and generosity, for yourself and your people.
I hope you, and I, will be rain givers, life preservers, joy bringers.
no characters have a personality when the plot starts. all of them have backstories, a past, and a mindset that they grew up with!
basically, a misbelief is the wrong mindset that they grew up with, and is also a belief that will be restructured by the end of your novel.
this not only shows character growth and development as their mind is "restructured" or they learn their life lesson, but also drives the internal plot of your story, which differs from the external (or action) plot that most people seem to read.
+ this gives readers a deeper insight to your character!
give them a goal
every character has a goal, or something they want in their lives. having them strive for it would essentially drive your plot, and may also help you dig deeper into your character's motivations!
this goal doesn't always need to be achieved, or may be impossible to (for example, someone wanting to meet a loved one who turns out to be dead; they may have not reached their goal, but it took them on a journey)
this goal should also be concrete if possible! vague ones like "they want to be happy," isn't very helpful. what do they think will make them happy?
(side note: wanting everything to be the way that it is can also be a goal, cause they're striving to make things go back to the way they were!)
more notes / explanations here! most of these notes in this post are taken from story genius by lisa cron, and i thought they might help. please take all this information with a grain of salt, and maybe use it in a way that'll work best for you! <3
