seen from Spain
seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from Canada

seen from Austria
seen from United States
seen from Türkiye

seen from Brazil

seen from Brazil
seen from France
seen from China
seen from Germany
seen from Yemen
seen from China

seen from United States
seen from Macao SAR China
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from Macao SAR China
seen from Yemen
when he carried the entire season
Mr Sandman (bring me a dream)
Pairing: I’m actually not sure, Henry creel/ Steve Harrington x fem!reader but also neither?
Summary: Henry took you to be his perfect little wife or ‘Mrs whatsit’ but Holly realises pretty quick that you’re not Mrs whatsit you’re Steve Harrington’s girlfriend who ‘died’ tragically
warnings: kidnapping? nothing shocking just like stranger things, things
a/n: this has been on my mind since volume one dropped
part 2:
part 3
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Holly first noticed there was another person in the house when Mr. Whatsit first “saved” her, as he put it so kindly.
It was before she even stepped inside.
She’d been standing at the edge of the garden path, her sneakers soaked from the dew-covered grass, staring up at the looming house with its too-clean windows and too-perfect roses. The sky above was a soft, syrupy gold, like the world had been dipped in honey and left to harden.
And then she saw her.
A woman in the upstairs window. Pale, still, framed by gauzy curtains. She didn’t wave. Didn’t smile. Just stood there, watching.
Holly blinked. The woman was gone.
“Come along,” Henry said, his hand warm and firm on her shoulder. “You’ll be safe here.”
my favorite tweet of all time
VERY MINOR SPOILER FOR ST5 (nothing plot-related)
you were used to running.
running from things that you didn’t understand—emotions you weren’t used to, concepts you couldn’t apply, situations you had no control over—and it worked.
you escaped brenner and his inhumane experiments, you conquered the demogorgons that followed you through thick and thin, you survived the rift that tore hawkins in half.
but running could only get you so far.
heavy pants ripped from your mouth, sweat beading on your brow. twigs and branches snapped beneath your feet, the crunches of leaves behind you eliciting a wave of fear. mud, tar, and blood caked to your clothes, uncomfortably forcing the fabrics to cling to your clammy skin. the black tendrils that seemingly stuck and winded around everything squished and churned, as if alerting him of your location.
you knew he was chasing you, he had been for years.
you were stuck confined to the onyx hellscape, your only comfort the crimson spikes of lightning in the skies. the loud screech of a demogorgon made you freeze, yanking the grapple you’d crafted from scrap metal from your belt and scaling a nearby tree. stopping, when you knew he was so close, was incredibly risky, but you’d prefer to not be tore open by a bloodthirsty demogorgon.
as if he’d ever let them touch you.
you were exhausted, cold, and so hungry. you couldn’t remember the last time you had a proper meal (yes, you could. it was with him, remember?) and you knew it wouldn’t be long before your body collapsed. the soft chitters of the fleshy being neared, and you saw it creeping through the trees. it lifted its petaled face, as if sniffing you out. the demogorgon approached the tree you’d chosen, massive claws digging into the bark.
it snarled, baring its countless rows of teeth dripping with saliva.
it lurched forward, and stopped. you stared, breathing heavy and limbs wracked with static. its inhuman ligaments trembled as it fell to the ground with a thud, and you tilted your head as it stalked away.
“barbaric creatures, yes?”
you flinched, the chill of the upside down seemingly warm compared to the ice flooding your veins. you launched from the tree without a second thought, but it was too late.
henry had you.
you hovered mid-air, that suffocating grip of his powers coating your body. your pack—stuffed with things you’ve made and lived on—was stripped from you and tossed aside. your eyes fell to the ground when his arms circled you. he was warm, his chest pressed against your back.
“you’re freezing, dear. have you been down here all this time?”
you didn’t answer.
your throat closed slowly, and you instantly dug your fingers into his hand. he kept it clasped around your neck, eyes narrowed in displeasure. “answer me.” you nodded as best you could, and he loosened his hold. he hummed, unreadable. henry rested his chin on your shoulder, tracing the imprint of his fingertips left in your skin.
“you were right in front of me for so long,” he whispered, “hiding, waiting—watching.”
he traced a finger down your arm, slipping his hand into yours. the inky abyss surrounding you bled into daylight, and you saw his home before you. it looked flawless, bright, and beautiful. henry gently ushered you forward, guiding you inside. “where…”
“my mind, darling. an oasis for you to rest in.”
tears welled in your eyes as you tried to pull away. he shushed you softly, coaxing you back into his embrace, “it’s alright, you’re safe here. i promise. nobody can reach you but me.”
that made you cry, trying to push him away.
your nose bled, mind straining from the effort of using your powers. “ah, that lovely gift of yours doesn’t work in here, i’m afraid,” he smiled serenely, cradling your face in one hand, “there’s no reason for you to need it.”
you’d realize that eventually, he thought. right now, you’re vulnerable. tired from years of surviving in a wasteland of sludge and bloodthirsty creatures, mind worn from escape plans and nightmares.
he had you right where he wanted you.
“let’s get you inside and warmed up, hm?”
you nodded, accepting defeat.
henry was possessive, obsessive of you in all the wrong ways—but he took care of you. he stalked you when you snuck out, unleashed demogorgons to scare you back into his arms, but then he’d prepare you a five star meal. he would get angry when you ignored his voice in your head, refusing to join him in the mindscape for those precious moments he wanted so badly.
you held his hand as he walked you inside, him smiling at your poorly-disguised relief of a warm home.
he already felt much better. you were where you belonged:
with him, in a sanctuary he controlled.
“i will begin dinner while you get cleaned up,” he muttered, glancing at your filthy clothes, “i’ll make your favorite. how does that sound?”
“sounds nice,” you resigned to your fate, a kind one despite the cruel nature of the world he was creating. henry kissed your temple, moving past you to the kitchen.
after your shower, you quietly went back downstairs. you peeked around the corner, spotting him at the stove. soft hums of your favorite song made a chill run down your spine, and henry simply smiled, “no need to hide, dear. i know you’re there.”
you moved to stand next to him, your senses flooded with aromatics and spices. “i’m glad you’re home,” he laid the wooden spoon to the side, turning to you, “i’ve missed you terribly.”
he held your face in his hands, eyes shifting briefly to your lips. you lifted your hands to rest atop his, and you barely nodded.
why did you ever leave? his voice echoed, this is where you belong.
your mind couldn’t conjure any reasonable explanation, no logical argument even though you’d had several planned points to make. it was like they were vanishing, erased and painted over with the happiest of memories with him.
only me, he thought spitefully, fingertips casting memories of your friends on the surface aside in favor of filling the void with his affections.
“i’m sorry,” you murmured against his lips, voice wavering and pitched with sadness. henry let out a content sigh, as if grateful you’d come to your senses. he was worried he would have to overload your pretty little head, but it didn’t take much for you to relax in his embrace. his eyes sparkled with insanity, love swirling around his pupils.
“i know you are, darling. i forgive you.”
any semblance of logic and denial left in your mind shattered, blurred by the taste of his lips and the warmth of his body.
I love these jerks