Stranger Things is a wild ride. Set in 1980s, it follows a crew of friends digging into strange happenings in their town. One of their pals goes missing. Supernatural stuff, government secrets and tons of nostalgia make this show a blast. It’s a pop culture hit, loved by fans of all ages.

Meet the characters from Stranger Things

Eleven

Eleven is this impossibly fierce, quiet storm — part lost kid, part walking superpower, with a serious soft spot for Eggo waffles (seriously, the waffles are basically a character). She speaks in little bursts but her stare says novels, and she can throw a bad guy across a room while also being terrible at small talk. There’s something endlessly hopeful and painfully vulnerable about her, like a light bulb that’s been through a thunderstorm and still refuses to stop glowing. Also she hoards hoodies and occasionally forgets basic social cues, which is adorable and kind of tragic all at once.

Martin Brenner

Dr. Brenner is the textbook creepy genius — calm, clinical, always in control (or at least pretending to be), and yes he calls Eleven “Jane” with this weird paternal cadence that is equal parts disturbing and oddly tender. He organizes people like lab rats and believes outcomes justify almost any method, yet you catch glimpses of someone who really does love his work in a terrifying, obsessive way. He drinks his coffee too precisely (I swear he measures the grounds) and has a habit of tilting his head like he’s always calculating. There’s a polish to him that masks a moral vacuum — and yet, sometimes he looks genuinely tired, which is confusing and makes him worse, not better.

Nancy Wheeler

Nancy is stubborn, brave, and secretly a little dramatic — the sort of person who will lead a stakeout at midnight and then go home to alphabetize her notes, possibly crying softly about injustice. She starts neat and “normal” but keeps surprising you with this fierce investigative streak that isn’t flashy, just utterly dogged. She can be self-righteous (oh yes) but it’s because she cares too much and has very strong opinions about truth, and also about jeans that actually fit. She sometimes acts like the responsible older sister but will throw down when the situation demands it, which is honestly my favorite thing about her.

Will Byers

Will is this painfully empathetic little artist who feels everything twice and remembers the exact sound a storm makes — he notices the small details other people walk past, which makes him both fragile and incredibly durable in a weird way. He draws to survive and hides tiny maps in his sketchbook like treasures, and he has an air of someone who’s seen too much but still believes in the good stuff (friendship, pizza, quiet afternoons). He can be shy in a way that reads as old-soul, and then he’ll surprise you by being stubbornly brave about the things that matter. Also he probably collects weird stickers and is suspiciously good at board games when he wants to be.

Joyce Byers

Joyce is a raw wire of energy — loud, frantic, and absolutely ferocious when it comes to her kids; she will punch reality until reality gives her answers (or at least blinking Christmas lights will). She is part conspiracy-theorist mom and part tender wreck, which is messy but real, and she makes you believe in miracles and also in paying your electricity bill on time. She hoards every scrap of evidence, sticks photos in magazines, and will apologize for zero things because she doesn’t have time for that. She can be scatterbrained and hyper-focused in the same breath, and honestly her chaotic bravery is kind of the glue of everything.

Steve Harrington

Steve was the classic high-school prettyboy who somehow became everyone’s favorite soft, exhausted babysitter — stylish hair, protective instincts, and a surprising talent for comic timing. He’s got that “I have a baseball bat and also I love kids” vibe, which is oddly soothing, and he’s better at being kind than he gives himself credit for. He likes food that is slightly messy (burgers? fries?) and will talk you through your emotional meltdown like it’s a team sport, maybe with a hairspray tip thrown in. Under that bravado is a guy who’s learned humility the hard way, and he shows up again and again, which is what makes him stick in your head.

Dustin Henderson

Dustin is pure, chaotic charm — goofy, brilliant in a nerdy way, and the kind of friend who will invent a plan with a grin and somehow make it work. He talks fast, laughs loud, and loves science-y nonsense and snackable junk food, and he names things (animals, gadgets, probably an unsentimental cactus) with ridiculous confidence. He’s loyal to the bone, a conspiracy-smarter-than-you type who also cuddles plushies, and he says “guys” like it’s a punctuation mark. He can be surprisingly wise when it matters, but mostly he’s the friend you want on a late-night stakeout and also on the karaoke stage.

Jonathan Byers

Jonathan is the quiet, watchful type — photographic eye, grouchy sarcasm, and this layered tenderness that peeks out only once you’ve earned it, which takes patience but is worth it. He prefers dark rooms and camera lenses and will defend his family like it’s the most natural thing in the world, even if he’s awkward about hugs. He’s moody and sweet in strange combinations (grumpy but brings you soup), and he has that “I listen” vibe that feels rare and comforting. Also he probably writes tiny poems on receipts and forgets where he put his keys — classic Jonathan contradictions.

Jim Hopper

Hopper is a gruff, half-melted marshmallow of a man — cop, dad, and human thundercloud who softens in the best possible way when you least expect it. He drinks coffee like it’s a lifeline and swears like a pirate, but will also sit through 3 AM heart-to-heart talks and pretend he didn’t cry (he did). He’s suspicious, protective, and has this whole messy backstory that makes him scowl at the world and then quietly fix things no one asked him to. Sometimes he’s overbearing, sometimes he’s goofy (the dad jokes sneak out), and somehow it all adds up to someone painfully, undeniably human.

Mike Wheeler

Mike is the earnest, loyal leader who takes his friendships very seriously and treats everything like it’s the plot of a very important book — which, okay, sometimes it is. He’s romantic and a bit old-fashioned about feelings (in a cute way), will argue passionately about rules and fairness, and can be annoyingly persistent when he thinks he’s right. He organizes the group like a miniature general but also gets flustered by emotional stuff, which makes him both reliable and endearingly awkward. He loves board games, hates bad manners, and will defend his friends with a surprising ferocity when push comes to shove.

Lucas Sinclair

Lucas is the pragmatic skeptic with a heart — someone who asks questions out loud, keeps it real, and is way more devoted than his eye-rolls let on. He can be stubborn to the point of adorable contrarianism, always ready with a practical plan (and a cheeky one-liner) and slightly suspicious of anything that smells like drama. He’s competitive, fierce in loyalty, and has a surprising soft spot for the ridiculous (hello: weird ice-cream habits? maybe). He balances the group’s wild ideas with a steadying dose of “wait, actually,” which is both infuriating and necessary.