#dammit STEVE

[sp0o0kylights]

Part One / Part Two (You are Here) / Part Three 

A03

Hopper had undersold Harrington's condition. 

Wayne hadn't expected anything pretty, but the face that turned to them as they walked through the door almost had him freezing in place. 

Black eye, bruised chin, split lip. 

More and more bruises, some faded and some very new, trailing down the kids neck. 

 The rest was hidden by his preppy little polo shirt, but Wayne didn't doubt that there were more.

Harrington tried to stand when they entered the room and the way he moved--entirely unbalanced, clearly in a lot of pain--made Wayne think the only thing the kid really needed was a hospital. 

Because Steve Harrington hadn't just been beaten. 

He'd been tortured--and very recently strangled. 

(Abruptly, Wayne realized that Hopper had implied the boy had been in the mall fire--just as much as he implied the mall fire was anything but. 

He also hadn't stated how Harrington had escaped the Suites trying to break into his house.) 

"Sit down." Hopper commanded, and Wayne expected Harrington to do anything but listen. 

Say something cocky, or act the part of a demanding little shit maybe, despite the condition he was in.

Instead the kid just sighed in relief and dropped like a stone, right back into the chair. 

Hopper came around his desk, talking all the while. "Steve, this is Wayne. Wayne, Steve."

"Hello Sir." Steve croaked politely. His voice was wrecked, no doubt from the necklace of finger shaped bruises around his neck.

"You're going to stay with him for a while, and you're gonna pay him for the privilege." Hopper informed him, as he began digging around his desk. "Money, chores, whatever Wayne wants." 

Wayne held his gaze as Steve turned to appraise him. 

Would Harrington pitch a fit? 

Would he look at Wayne's work clothes, streaked with dirt and sweat, with the name of the warehouse embroidered in the corner and crinkle up his nose, just like his daddy did? 

Hopper didn't lie, but a part of Wayne wanted to see just how different this Harrington was. If the respectful demeanor was an act done for Hopper. 

Or perhaps, Hopper had mentioned Steve's father for a reason, instead of his mother. Did he adopt her ice-like approach to life? 

Micro managing and long-held grudges were Stella Harrington’s game, and she excelled at it. 

Steve however, did nothing of the sort, instead settling with the situation in a way that reminded Wayne far too strongly of the men and women who'd come home from war.

"Okay." The kid said simply, after a long moment of consideration. He turned back to Hopper. "But we need to tell the rest of the Par--" 

Here he cut a look back to Wayne, correcting himself. "the kids. I don't want them showing up at my house trying to find me and freaking out." 

"They wouldn't--" Jim paused, fingers freezing from the rummaging they'd been doing. "they absolutely would, goddammit." He muttered darkly.  

"I'll tell the kids. The only thing I want you doing right now is laying low. I need to get a hold of Owens, but it's gonna take time to do that, and more time to fix this, so as of right now, Harrington? You're on vacation." He pointed sternly, as if Steve might argue.

The kid looked too tired and messed up to bother trying. 

"I mean it. You're out of the country, where is anybody's guess. No one's seen you and no one better be seeing you, got it?" His voice held firm, and Wayne had to blink because the tone here wasn't one of a police chief warning a teenager--but of a father talking to his son.

He knew, because his own voice did that now. Took on a worried tone that masqueraded as something more like annoyance and seriousness. 

"Yes, Sir." Harrington said, remaining weirdly compliant. "Consider me gone." 

A hand came up to briefly press above one eye, and Wayne wondered if the kid had been looked over, or if they had just crammed him into Hopper's office without offering so much as a tissue box. 

How many painkillers did they have back at the house? Wayne usually kept a good bottle around, but Steve was going to need more than that…

He found himself once again cataloging Steve's wounds, this time comparing them to the medicine cabinet he had at home. 

"I expect you to be a damn good house guest, you hear me?" Hopper continued, trying to cut a menacing figure. He finally found what he was looking for; pulling out a large, padded envelope. 

He handed it over to Harrington, who took it without looking, shoving it into the duffle bag he'd had sitting at his feet. 

There was a smudge of red on the handle of said bag, that matched perfectly up to a shittily done wrap on Steve's right hand. 

Wayne mentally added 'buy more bandages' to his list. 

Steve nodded at Hopper again. "Yes, Sir."

Jim’s eyes narrowed. "Quite that, you know I hate that." 

The briefest glimmer of mischief crossed Harrington's face. "Sorry, Sir. Won't happen again, Sir."

'Ahh.' Wayne thought. 'So there's a teenager in there after all.'

Jim rolled his eyes. "Get out of my office."

"Thanks Hop." Harrington said, finally dropping that odd obedience, a hint of a smile on his battered face. 

He stood, and Wayne had to stop himself from offering an arm out as Steve reached for his bag and limped towards him. 

He paused right before he left Hopper's office, hand on the doorframe.

 "You'll check up on Robin too, right?"  He asked, and for the first time his tone took on something more alive--and filled with worry. "And Dustin? Erica?" 

"Dustin and his mom are finally taking me up on my suggestion to see their family in Florida for a while, and the Sinclairs are taking a sabbatical from Hawkins. I'm working on the Buckley's." Hopper drummed his fingers on the desk. "So far, no one else besides you and El have been targeted, and we're going to keep it that way."

Steve let out a breath, and while Wayne could tell the worry hadn't left him, he could almost physically see Steve force himself to put it away.

Another act that was far beyond the kid's years. 

A different officer popped up as they walked down the hall towards the exit, waving his hand madly. "Harrington! Chief says you forgot this!" He barked.

(Or tried to anyway. Callahan wasn’t the most aggressive of officers and frankly, never would be.)

A slim sports bag was held in his hands, and Steve nearly tripped over his own feet when he tried to turn and claim it.

"I'll get it." Wayne said, knowing his tone sounded gruff.

No use for it. He could either sound gruff or sound sad, and Wayne knew better than to start off the relationship with yet another hurt young man by acting sad.

Pity wasn't gonna win him any favors here. 

He took the bag, slinging it over his shoulder, uncaring of the wince on Harrington's face until something sharp poked at his shoulder. 

Several somethings, in fact. 

"What the hell do you got in this thing?" He asked once they hit the parking lot, voice low as he escorted Steve to his truck. 

"Just a baseball bat, sir." Steve said, in the exact same tone Eddie used every time he thought he was bein’ slick. 

Considering the thing in the bag could have passed for a baseball bat if not for the sharp pokey bits, it wasn’t a bad attempt. Steve just hadn’t accounted for the fact that Wayne lived with Eddie. 

An unfair advantage, really. 

‘Least there can’t be any baby racoons in the damn bag.’ Wayne thought idly. 

Went on to gently put the bat in the backseat, watching as the kid struggled to lift himself into the truck.

"You can drop that, I take too being called Sir about as well as Hop does." He said, keeping his tone nice and calm, hoping to ease into calling Steve out on his lie. 

Fussed with a few dials on the stereo, giving Steve an excuse to take his time before starting the engine and taking the long way home.

Wayne wanted to talk a little-- without the chance of Ed’s interrupting. 

"Son,” He started off. “I was born in the morning, but not this morning. I'm hoping to make the next few weeks as easy as I can for both of us, and I can't do that if you're starting off with a lie." 

Steve blinked, turning to face him in a matter that was too fast for his injuries. He didn't bother hiding the hurt it caused him, but his voice stayed even as he spoke.

 "What do you mean Si--Wayne." 

"Nice catch.”  Wayne said. “We’ll get you there yet.” 

It was a trick he'd learned with Eddie--little tidbits of praise went a long way when it came to gaining trust.

Especially with kids who hadn't ever been given much. 

Harrington seemed smart to it, or perhaps was just hesitant to speak in general because he remained quiet, not offering up any info. No further lies, but nothing towards the truth, neither. 

Which was fine. Wayne didn’t think a little pushing would hurt.

"That bat of yours was digging into my shoulder like a bee swarm." Wayne continued, when it became clear Steve wasn't talking. "I'm more a fan of football than baseball, but last I checked they hadn't changed the design of a bat." 

"What teams?" Steve asked, perking up a touch. "Of football. Which ones are yours?"

Wayne could ignore it of course, or demand Steve give him an answer to the question he asked. 

He did neither. "I’m liking the Colts since they got moved here. You?" 

"Green Bay Packers, though I like the Colts too--that trade in 84’ was crazy." Steve said. After a second he proved that answering instead of pushing was the right move because he added; "What did Hopper tell you? About…" He trailed off, making a gesture Wayne didn't bother trying to interpret. 

"He said some things. I've guessed a few others." Wayne admitted. Cut a little look out of the corner of his eye as he came to a stop sign. "I know the feds are real interested in you after Starcourt." 

Steve took that in, hands tightening on the handle. 

"It really is a baseball bat." He said, a little fast and with the tiniest hint of that challenge Wayne had been looking for. "It just also has nails hammered into one end." 

Wayne took that in with one nice, slow blink. 

"A bat with nails in it." He said, and it made a hell of a lot of sense compared to the sensation he'd felt carrying the case. "You use it against anyone?" 

"Some of the feds." Steve admitted, and even with his eyes on the road Wayne could tell he was being stared at.

Judged.

Not in the way one expected a rich kid to judge, but in the way Eddie had, those first few months he'd lived here. The times when  he'd push, just a little, to see what Wayne's reaction would be. 

Eddie hadn't done it in a damn long time, but Wayne recognized the behavior nonetheless. 

"Anybody else?" He asked. 

"Nobody human." Steve replied. 

"Alright." Wayne said, and made a mental note to drop all questions related to that. 

He didn't need to know, definitely didn't want to know, and had a feeling if he did know he'd find himself being watched by the same spooks after Steve.

"I've got a few deck boxes that lock on my porch. Think you'd be agreeable to leaving the bat in one?" 

Steve paused, hand clenching tighter around the strap of his duffel bag. "If you gave me a key so I could get it in an emergency,  I'd be happy to." 

He tried to sound calm, even a little charming in that sort of upper-class businessman sort of way, but the fear bled through. 

The kid wasn't happy separating from the bat, and given it sounded like it might have saved his life recently, Wayne understood the hesitation. 

With an internal apology to Eddie, he promptly threw his nephew under the proverbial bus.  "I've got my nephew at home and he'd be far too interested in it, is all. Blades and weapons and such tend to attract him, and I don't need to be rushing anyone to the ER." 

All of which were very true facts (one Wayne learned the time he'd allowed Eddie to bring a sword  home, only for him to nearly cut his own nose off winging the thing around) but he figured it might make Steve more amenable to separating from it. 

Sure enough, some of the tenseness bled out of Steve's shoulders. "Yeah that's fair." 

The truck hit a few potholes as they finally turned into the trailer park, and the kid hissed, a quiet sound. 

Judging by the uncomfortable wince, and hands clenched into his jeans something painwise was giving him trouble. 

"When was the last time you took a pain pill?" Wayne asked, doing his best to weave around the other holes that dotted the gravel roads.

Steve blinked. "Uh…" 

"You take any today son?" 

Steve his head. 

"Didn't have time to grab it." He said, offering a sad look to his pack. 

Course he hadn't. 

"Let's get you inside then and get you some." Wayne said with a sigh. Thankfully Eddie's van wasn't here--Wayne was fairly certain he had band practice today but knowing him it could be a million other things.

Just meant he had to acclimate Steve as fast as he could, to try and get the poor guy settled before Ed’s came in. 

He just hoped life and lady luck would work with him, for once. 

#hands on knees #this is gonna have more than three parts fffffff #FAIR WARNING I do jump between Wayne and Eddie’s pov in this. #Everything Ive written so far while in parts for tumblr would basically be chapter 1 on A03 #Eddies POV change would be chapter two #Ugh Im gonna have to put this on A03. Dammit brain. #also I updated this very fast for me #no one get excited Idk the brain is doing #steddie #beat to shit Steve Harrington #wayne pov #outsider pov #wayne as a BAMF #I tried to get to the part where Eddie shows up but it just got too long for a tumblr post #pre steddie #wayne and Hopper both as psuedo parents to Steve #tw injuries #0o0 fanfics #stranger things

[missjashin]

I think the kids from the party wouldn’t connect the dots that there’s something more than friendship going on between Steve and Eddie very fast. Because they’ve now listened for about a year that no Steve and Robin are not together and they don’t want to be either and the two are just weirdly close . Not lovey-dovey affectionate obviously but still super close and rather inseparable. Not to mention the kids also assume that Steve is straight as an arrow. So when Eddie and Steve seem to get closer and closer they just assume they’re good friends now. That it’s the upside down effect or something. Surprised they even get along in the first place.

But who would start suspecting something? Corroded Coffin guys. They know something happened during the spring but not the whole truth so they don’t have the same perspective as the kids. But they see the lingering looks, the lingering hands and touches. They notice when you walk in on them and it looks like they were just holding hands, something that’s easy to miss if you don’t pay attention but they are. They notice how the two gravitate towards each other, sit next to each other when there’s enough room not to be glued together but they choose to be. How they look and smile at each other across the room. See them sharing cigarettes, whispering into each others ears and hear them honest to god giggle at each others’ jokes.

And even when Steve and Eddie are not together and Corroded Coffin have their band practice/ hang outs, when they’re not playing and practicing the songs they usually do, they can catch Eddie strumming his guitar something that undeniably sounds like a love song.

And sure they might know Eddie’s uhm, preferences when it comes to a partner (read: he is gay af) but Steve Harrington? Well it wouldn’t be the first time the guy surprises them. They also didn’t think he was such a nice guy until they got to know him better after he let them have DnD sessions at his house.

Steve’s friendship with Buckley throws them off a little bit at times because those two are tight but then again she is way too unbothered by the fact that Steve and Eddie seem to be making heart eyes at each other every time they’re in the room together. So yeah. They’ll figure this out, they’re on a quest now.

#found this from my notes and if it had some other point or ending #I don’t know it I have forgotten #thought to share anyway ✌️ #steddie #platonic stobin #steve harrington #eddie munson #corroded coffin #gareth stranger things #gareth emerson #I know that’s not his canon name but it’s common one so we using it #jeff stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things #<- give him a name already dammit :( #he deserves better #robin buckley #the party stranger things

[flowercrowngods]

based on this post, because at this point i think it's safe to say @unclewaynemunson is actually my muse or something (hi anna i hope this is okay even though it’s, like, way angsty and way too long huh)

🤍 also on ao3

Two days after Starcourt, concussed and beaten, Steve has a seizure.

His ears are still ringing when the doctor gives him a stern glance over the rim of his glasses and pronounces him unfit to drive. No, in fact, he claims Steve poses a real danger to himself and others if he sat behind a wheel again.

Immediately, Dustin and Robin jump to promising that they won't let him do that, and in another life Steve is sure he would be grateful, or at least reasonable about it, but in this one he has a horrible second where the floor falls out from under him and he wishes, for just one second, that his head had been shaken a bit more, just enough to–

It makes him nauseous even thinking that. Everything does, lately. He closes his eyes against the offensive brightness of the hospital room and lets the sound of Dustin's and Robin's voices wash over him as he takes a moment to really take in what the doctor's orders entail.

He can't drive anymore. No more late night drives to watch the street lights pass and lull him into a safer state of mind than his bedroom walls could. No more driving the kids to their DnD sessions, no more taking Robin anywhere at the drop of a hat, no more bickering, no more reign over the music, no more stern glances through the rearview mirror, no more "Shut up, Wheeler, or you're leaving the car."

No more "Thanks, Steve!", no more "I'll bring some of mom's cookies if you drive us to the arcade", no more "You're the best" or "You're a lifesaver" or "I owe you one".

No more place for him in the group, no more use for him, no more...

No more. Nothing. Now he's just Steve, would-be lifesaver, 'has-been babysitter', 'could-have-been somebody until he lost his license to drive because he wasn't quick enough, wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough'. Just Steve.

He doesn't know how to be that. Who is Steve Harrington without his car, without the one thing he was good for anymore?

The pit in his chest is deep enough, dark enough to pull him in, and for a moment the very thing he is good for is misery.

He waits until a nurse makes everyone leave for the night, and then he cries. It makes his head hurt, pressure building behind his eyes, but he's used to being in more pain than any teenager should be in, so he curls in on himself and hides underneath the blanket.

Here's to hoping the others won't notice just how useless he is now. Not too soon, anyway. He wants another month. A painless month filled with laughter and hugs, and then they're free to leave, to pull back slowly. Calls unanswered, radio channels changed so he won't reach them, sheepish apologies and rain checks, because now Nancy will drive them. Or Jonathan. Hell, maybe Max will take the risk just to avoid him.

---

He gets a week of daily visits in the hospital, the doctors and nurses insisting on keeping him here, a watchful eye on his vitals, scanning his head three times during his stay, insisting he has head trauma of a severely worrying degree.

Nancy picks him up from the hospital and it's awkward, tense, too much left unsaid between them but there's no one else to do it. Steve's hands are shaking, gripping the seatbelt the whole way home – and then his heart falls when he sees his Beemer in the driveway. The glorious, trusty, wonderful, best fucking car anyone could wish for. His baby. His.

He throw up into the brushes when he realises that he won't get to take it on one last ride. Maybe he shouldn't be so attached to a car. Maybe he's being pathetic about it. At least he can explain away the fat tears in his eyes now, and Nancy doesn't press.

The first thing he does when Nancy is gone is calling Robin, and she's excited when she says, "I'll come right over!" and Steve wants to ask, how, but he keeps his mouth shut, biting his lip. It's stupid, but the thought of someone else driving Robin over makes his skin crawl.

"Alright," he says instead, his voice raspy, and he hangs up before she can detect something in his voice.

After that, he goes outside again and runs his hand along his Beemer. It's shining in the sun; he had it cleaned the other week, the full program, every step in the book to celebrate four years since he got her.

"Four years, huh," Steve says, his nail catching on a minor scratch that isn't even visible but might be more familiar to him than even his home. "Damn good four years."

He's talking to his car. God, it's so stupid, it's so stupid, it's so stupid–

Steve's knees give out and he gives in to the desire that's burning under his skin sometimes, the desire to just sit down and ignore the world. Because everything is less real when you're sitting down somewhere you're not meant to be, and the ground is warm, and Steve just wants the world to go. His head is leaning back against the warm metal of the driver's door, and he closes his eyes for a while, his head still spinning, his ears still ringing, everything still awful.

After a while, there’s a shadow followed by a weight settling down between him, a head landing on his shoulder, a hand taking his.

"I'm so sorry, Stevie," Robin says. The lack of dingus makes it more real, somehow. More tragic. More pathetic.

"I'll live." And it feels a bit like a lie.

---

He gets his month. A month filled with barbecues in his backyard, the kids coming by after school to check on him, and Robin has practically moved in. Joyce picks him up on Friday nights for dinner at their house for a change of scenery.

It’s a good month, though Steve feels trapped. Caged. A bird without his wings, a boy without his car. Steve without his one purpose, the one thing he was good for. He has to be picked up because they don’t trust him walking, or they have to come to his place. And soon the worried glances that are thrown his way are too much, caging him further, reminding him of what this is. A pity party — quite literally. No one trusts him anymore, there’s always someone jumping to help him, not caring or listening to his protests.

And he can’t leave, because “What if you have a seizure in your room?”

It makes him want to scream.

Maybe it shows, or maybe everyone’s just fed up with him now that he can’t provide his taxi services anymore, but after summer the Byers dinners stop and the kids pull away.

“Told you that’s all I’m good for,” Steve says with a mean, pained huff as he hangs up the phone. Claudia said Dustin isn’t home, but he could hear the kids in the background. It hurts more than it should.

“What is?” Robin asks from her place on the floor with her back against the wall.

“Nothing.”

She frowns. “Come on, dingus, you can’t start and then—“

“No, I mean it. Nothing. That’s what I’m good for now that I can’t drive them anymore.”

“Bullshit!” she says, and it comes out so harsh that it makes Steve flinch. He swallows. Right. Robin isn’t hear to listen to him whine about how he feels like he has no place in this town, in this group, in this life anymore now that his head is so fucked up he can’t even be trusted to live alone.

That’s why Robin is here, right?

The babysitter becomes the babysitted… or something.

She doesn’t care, not really. She doesn’t listen. She doesn’t ask.

“Steve, they’re kids.”

“Yeah, well. So am I.”

He turns away from her and ignores the tears threatening to fall. The door to his room falls shut and he would love to lock it just to make a point to the world at large, a point that it can’t shut him out if he shuts himself in, but he knows it’s too risky. If he has a seizure, Robin needs to get in.

He can’t even stay in his room alone without supervision anymore. What kind of a fuck-up is he becoming, where does it end? He’s already managed to chase away the kids, even Dustin only checks on him sporadically anymore, and it hurts. He wants to know why, wants to know what he did, how to take it back, how to get them back.

But then he remembers how it all started. Dustin needed a ride and someone to take a beating. Both of which he can’t do anymore without risking life and death of himself and others. He’s a safety hazard. He’s useless. He’s Steve fucking Harrington, which doesn’t mean anything anymore.

---

And then it’s spring, and Chrissy Cunningham is found dead in Eddie Munson’s trailer. The group is back together again, the Party assembled once more. And Steve, for a just one second, hopes that he can get it right this time, that he can do this again. One last time. Because Vecna slash Henry slash One surely is it.

But then they turn on him — even Eddie looks confused, which is a rather adorable look on him — the moment Steve tries to get a word in.

“You’re not coming with us, Steve.” That’s Dustin, and Steve just rolls his eyes, but then Robin joins in.

“Yeah, no, I’m with the gremlin on this, dingus.”

“Hey!”

“Oh shut it, Henderson.” She turns to him, her eyes softer but no less burning another hole inside Steve. “We can’t risk it, Steve.”

“Risk what?” It’s a challenge. His shoulders squared, his jaw clenched, he’s challenging her, and it’s cruel.

She holds his eyes, her expression icy, like he’s stupid. “We can’t risk you dying. We can’t risk you getting a seizure mid-fight or just by being in the Upside Down.”

“Hey, woah,” Eddie tries to get a word in, but Steve won’t hear him as the desperation, the loneliness, the feeling of being caged like a bird and still the only human left on a desolate planet, all that breaks free.

“We all know that dying in a fight is the only thing I’m good for anyway.”

The silence among their war council, as Max dubbed it, is deafening.

“What?” Lucas sounds small when he asks that, and Steve closes his eyes. He hadn’t meant for him to hear that. Any of them, actually. They weren’t supposed to know.

“Steve, that’s not true.” Dustin’s words are filled with disbelief and worry, and Steve hates the worry, it makes his skin crawl, it makes his heart race, it makes his fists clenched and it makes him want to scream again.

“What else then, huh?” he asks weakly. “What else is there? None of you even talk to me anymore since Starcourt. Since summer.”

“Because you were pulling away,” Nancy explains, though her words are weak and her mouth clicks shut when Steve looks at her.

“Because we’re scared.” Max this time, and Steve doesn’t want to look at her, doesn’t want to tell a child that she’s not allowed to be scared for him— not more than he is, anyway. It doesn’t make sense for him to be hurt. They don’t want him to die. That’s a good thing, right? They didn’t want to see him hurt, so they looked away. It makes sense.

But it also hurts.

Steve shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose before all but running from the trailer. He doesn’t make it far (“Stay close so we won’t have to worry”), just needs some fresh air and to sit down somewhere the world will become a bit less real again.

The stairs it is. He tries to breathe through the lump in his throat, clenching and unclenching his hands to get rid of the anger and the hurt and all that excess energy.

He doesn’t want to die, is the thing. The very thought makes him nauseous and panicky. He wants his life back. His car. The freedom to just jump in there and get away. He doesn’t want the cage or the worry or the hovering or the loneliness when he isolates himself from all that.

Face buried in his hands, Steve almost misses it when someone comes to sit beside him. The thick smell of leather and cigarettes tells him who it is without looking up.

Eddie doesn’t speak for a while, just sits with him as Steve calms down.

And then, after a while, he lights a cigarette and asks, “You get seizures, Harrington?”

Steve nods. “Sometimes.”

Eddie hums. “That sucks.”

He nods again, and then that’s that. But even though it was a rhetorical question and Eddie didn’t even need an answer, it feels pathetically good to be asked about something. About himself. It only makes the pit inside his chest deeper, cutting into his soul with a sharp edge, this tiny little moment of normalcy. He wants to cling to it. He wants to talk to Eddie. God, he hasn’t really talked to anyone in so long.

“Before Starcourt — remember, the mall? The fire? Yeah that was, uhm. More monster shit. And Russians who thought I was a spy and then… yeah. Anyway. Uh. We used to be friends, I think. The kids and I. They used to care — or I like to think that they did. And then I got one too many head injuries, and the seizures started, and then they… It became too much. For them, for me. And the caring stopped. And, like, it’s fine or whatever, but I still care, and I can’t let them do all that alone. I know that all I was good for was taking them somewhere with my car, but I can’t drive anymore, so now I’m just… I’m just Steve. No titles attached, no use or function or point.”

Eddie just stares at him, puzzled and intrigued and even a little sad, and Steve wants to laugh it off when the silence stretches.

“Sorry, that’s kind of a sob story, you—“

“Wait here,” Eddie says, stubbing out his cigarette before disappearing back into the trailer. Steve watches him with a confused frown but stays put. A minute later, the door flies open and a scandalised looking Max appears, followed by the rest of the crew.

“You what?!”

“Uh,” Steve blinks. “I what?”

“Eddie told us you think you’re useless and that we don’t like you and that all you were ever good for is driving us from A to B with, like, no personal value whatsoever,” Dustin fills in, sounding no less bewildered. “Is that true, Steve?”

And God, the kid is so good at making all his questions sound like dares that Steve instinctively wants to swallow and negate it, tell them that Eddie misheard, that he’s fine, that everything fine.

But then Robin’s whispered little, “Steve” stops him from doing that. In fact, the sadness and confusion on their faces makes the dams break once more, confronted with months of spiralling and no one to drag him out, no one to listen.

Tears spring to his eyes and he gets up from the stairs to properly face them. He shrugs. It’s as much of a confirmation as anything.

And then Dustin sprints forward and tackle-hugs him, burying his face in Steve’s chest with no intention to let go anytime soon.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles into Steve’s shirt and Steve runs a hand through his hair immediately.

“It’s okay, Dustin.”

“No! It’s fucking not okay, Steve, stop saying that. You’re my big brother, you’re my best friend, you’re my hero! You’re the coolest guy I know and nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”

“Then why’d you leave?” His voice is so small, but Dustin only hugs him tighter.

“Because you were hurting and I was… I feel like all of that is my fault.”

“Why would it be your fault, Dustin?”

He shrugs, and it breaks Steve’s heart. Dustin thinks everything is his fault just like Steve thinks it’s his.

“It’s me who got you into the thing with the Russians. I insisted. And you were tortured for it, Steve! You… You told us to go, and we did, and then we came back and you were— you-“

“Hey,” Steve whispers, curling himself around and over Dustin. “Hey, no, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. None of that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry I pulled away, Steve,” Dustin sniffles and looks up at him. “I swear it’s not because I think you’re useless. It’s just… I’m so scared.”

And it makes sense, somehow. The anger leaves Steve when he whispers, “Me too. And I don’t like it when you’re all scared and worried. I hate it.”

“I know. Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Shut up.”

And then they’re both laughing with tears in their eyes. Lucas and Max join them with their own promises that Steve isn’t worthless to them.

“Did you read my letter? You know, the one if…”

“No,” Steve says. “You told me not to.”

“Right. Anyway, read it. Whatever happens, I want you to read it. Because you’re my brother and you mean too much for me to, like, never let you know. But, uh. Billy died. And I hated him, but it fucked me up. And then you almost died, and then you almost died again; and then you just… collapsed. And I thought, I cant do this again, not with someone I actually like. Not with you. And I didn’t wanna watch. I watched Billy. I… I can’t watch you die, Steve.”

She’s crying by the end of it, and Steve pulls her against his chest. Shit, he hadn’t meant to make anyone cry like that.

“It’s okay, Max, I get it.”

“Not okay,” she shakes her head again. “I know it’s not. But—“

“I know.” He’s stroking through her hair. “I know.”

“Uh, guys? I hate to break up the heartfelt confession time,” Eddie chimes in. “But I think our window is closing.”

Right. The end of the world.

With one last squeeze to Max’s shoulders, he lets her go and they gather their things. Discussions about Steve’s joining their mission have been put on hold while their window is still open. They can continue this later.

Nancy drives while Max holds Steve’s hand in the back. They don’t talk and she has her headphones on, letting Kate Bush work her magic, but it’s fine. It feels a bit like healing.

He catches Eddie’s eyes on the other side and holds them for a while. Eddie smiles before looking away, and Steve does the same.

---

In the end, Steve doesn't climb the rope with them. He stays behind in Eddie's trailer even though every fibre of his being screams at him to join. But Nancy has a point when she explains to him that she and Robin got this. It's the first time he stays behind, and he hopes it will be the last.

They hug him before leaving, all of them. Promises are made to talk about this later, after, and he nods.

"Go save the world for me," he tells Robin, holding her tight, unwilling to let go.

"Only for you," she promises, and kisses his cheek before pulling away. "You better be right here when we come back."

He shrugs and gives her an encouraging smile. "I've got nowhere else to be, Buckley. Now go." The last words are whispered and it feels like goodbye. Steve should join them, he should be there! But his head is pulsing and he knows that one wrong move could leave him half blind with a migraine, and they don't need one more handicap.

The one thing he can do, though, is helping them climb the rope, and it makes him feel ridiculously proud, seeing them land safely on the other side, smiling up (or down?) at him. Robin and Nancy wave one last time before heading off.

That leaves him alone with Eddie and Dustin. The latter is already climbing the rope, itching to finally do something, preparing the trailer for their plan.

Only Eddie is left, and Steve looks over at him.

"Will you be okay, Steve?"

"Sure."

Eddie sighs and looks up at the gate, disbelief and resignation and even a hint of fascination in his eyes.

"It should be you," he says, and Steve frowns, confused. "You're the hero here."

"No," Steve huffs, smiling at the metalhead. "No, I'm no hero. The real heroes are already up there, and in California. The real hero died after Starcourt. I'm just the driver who lost his license, the boy with the bat. The protector who needs to be protected."

Eddie looks at him again, that kind of intense stare, the one that shows Steve that Eddie sees something in him. He wonders what it is, but isn't sure he wants to know.

"I think you're wrong, Steve." He says it with such gentle conviction that it takes Steve's breath away for a second, and something passes between them as they hold each other's eyes.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something, but then–

"Eddie!" Dustin is calling for him from the other side, and the boys snap out of their daze.

Steve steps into Eddie's personal space and pulls him to his chest. "Make him pay," he says. "But stay safe. Come back, okay? First sign of danger, you abort mission. Come back, Eddie. I'll be right here."

"Yeah," Eddie rasps, and he squeezes Steve once more. "Catch me when I fall through that gate in two hours?"

Steve laughs, a sad little thing, and he pushes Eddie away from him, hands steady on his shoulders. "Sure, big boy."

"Hey, that's my part."

"Say it when you come back, then."

This thing passes between them again, and then Eddie goes to climb the rope. Steve's hands find their way to his hips, steadying him, but Eddie is strong enough to pull himself up without problem. Huh.

"In the meantime, wrap your head around the fact that you're the one I'm coming back for, pretty boy."

And then Eddie is gone. Steve watches as he falls through the gate, landing on the mattress with more elegance this time, and then he, too, grins down (or up?) at Steve.

He gives a little wave, and then he is alone.

Plenty of room to think when your friends have gone on a suicide mission and you're the one who has to stay behind. The one who will have to do the explaining when things go south. The one who will have to watch and listen, helpless.

It makes him regret the past few months, the self isolation, all the times he pulled back, all the times he didn't push for an explanation or a conversation, all the times he hadn't asked the kids if they're alright because he was too caught up in all the ways that he wasn't.

God, he wants them to be okay. He wants to talk about this, wants them to tell him he's more than the driver without a license, more than the protector who needs protecting. He wants Eddie to come back and explain what he meant, say what he wanted to say. He wants...

He wants his old life back. But more than that, he wants them in his new life just as much. He wants to be brave enough for this new life and find a new purpose. Create one if he can't find it.

But he can't do it alone. He refuses to do it alone even one day more.

"Come back to me," he whispers, looking up at the gate from where he's sitting on the floor, back against the wall. "Come on guys, you've got this. Please work. Please, make the plan work."

And then, miraculously, it does. Eddie falls into his arms with an undignified squeal and the rest of the Party soon follow. They're unscathed, miraculously, and Steve cries as he holds them, all of them, in a group hug that makes the trailer smell like relief and grief and a new life ahead of them. Slowly, with an unnatural sound, the gate above them closes, and then silence reigns.

They cling to him now. Refuse to let go. Good thing he has nowhere to go as Lucas gasps and sobs into his chest, explaining what happened, that Jason almost destroyed the walkman, that Max could have died. And Steve runs shaky hands through his hair, pulling in Max, too, so the three of them can just hold each other for a second.

Dustin and Eddie are hugging beside them, and Nancy and Robin hold hands, a different kind of horror in their eyes, but they smile wetly at Steve as their eyes meet.

It's over. It's done.

They did it. They really did it.

Steve closes his eyes and holds Lucas and Max tighter. They don't complain.

---

Three days later, Steve's house is brimming with life again like it hasn't in months. Turns out, Hopper survived, and he hugged Steve for a whole five minutes, telling him he did good, he did great, he's a hero. Again with that shit that Steve doesn't believe, but he doesn't have the heart to tell Hop, so he just buries deeper into their embrace.

"It's good you're alive," he tells him, and the Chief sobs out a laugh.

"You too, kid. This town would be lost without you."

"Yeah, right," Steve laughs back, and then that is that.

Except, it isn't, because when he returns to the living room with Hop, Joyce and El in tow, everyone's standing, looking at him with timid expressions. Robin and Eddie are holding hands this time, and so are all the kids. They all look like they have something to say, and the only thing missing is a large banner that says INTERVENTION.

"Uh, what's going on?"

Dustin is the first to clear his throat, but only after Erica kicks him. "We wanted to apologise. For leaving you when you needed us the most."

Oh. Steve's shaking his head, placating words already on the tip of his tongue, ready to explain to them how that's not their fault, how that was all him, he could have said something, he could have asked, he could have–

"Steve," Nancy says, effectively cutting off any protest he could have voiced. "Just listen, okay? Don't say anything."

He looks at Joyce, who nods, and Hopper who looks about as lost as he feels.

Dustin continues then. "You deserved better, Steve, you really, really did. We all did, I think, but you... You put yourself in harm's way from the get-go."

"Yeah, you came to protect me when you didn't even like me." Jonathan this time. "No thoughts, just protection. I owe my life to you. Every single one in this room does, y'know."

"And what you got for it is severe head trauma and... us abandoning you." Nancy.

"You're not just the driver, Steve. You never were just a driver to us." Hell, even Mike is in on this? "You're annoying, you suck, and you don't even try not to act like you're everyone's big brother."

"You're family, Steve." Oh, baby Byers. That's what gets his eyes stinging and his lip trembling, so he bites down on it so they won't have to see. It's futile with the way they're smiling.

"Yeah. You're so much more than our babysitter," Lucas explains. "You're the best basketball coach."

"You actually listen to my music and read comics with me," Max continues with a smile. "You suck just a little less than everyone else in this town."

"Hey!"

"No, she has a point."

Steve's not keeping up with the who's who anymore, he's trying too hard to keep it together.

"You teach me new words," El says, smiling. "You give me your clothes, you take me shopping, you teach me how to deal with meanies."

And the list goes on. Everyone has something to say to him, something beyond the ways he can be useful. Something that he is to them, something meaningful, something that sounds a lot like purpose and family.

"And we were so scared, because you were hurt. Because of us. You were protecting us, and look where it got you. You're a hero, Steve. As real as they get, you are one."

"More than Wonder Woman," Max agrees. "More than Superman. You're Steve! And that's... He’s our hero."

"He’s our brother," Dustin says.

"He’s my son," Joyce adds, taking his hand.

"He’s our friend," Erica, Mike and El say in unison.

“He’s the one we stay for.” Robin’s eyes shine as she smiles.

“And the one we come back for.” Eddie’s smile is gentle, confident, and captivating. Steve can’t look away, even through his own tears.

---

In the following months, Robin gets her license and Eddie develops a sixth sense for whenever Steve needs to just sit in a car and ride around town, watching the street lamps pass and letting them lull him to sleep. There’s an upside to being a passenger, he finds, because he falls asleep like this a few times, always waking when Eddie kills the engine. He drives for hours sometimes, admitting with a blush high on his cheeks that he didn’t want to wake Steve.

Somewhere on the highway to Indianapolis, between three and four in the morning, Steve looks at Eddie in the soft glow of the night, and finds that he’s fallen in love.

And in the weeks and months and years that follow, he realises that that’s something new he’s good at.

#stranger things #steve & the party #steddie #steddie fic #but also not really. steddie is just something that happens along the way #this was meant to be short but uh. uh. whoops? #hi anna i am sorry feel free to ignore this i could have made this easier in everyone but they’re teenagers with trauma dammit #dio words #actually i just wanted an excuse to make steve sad. if you know me you know

[strangersatellites]

AU where steve and eddie are neighbors and pet parents to furry friends who are near replicas of themselves.

eddie is a dog dad to a massive doberman named zeus who wears a chain for a collar and has a permanently angry face. despite his appearance and general demeanor, zeus is a scaredy cat when it comes to other animals. eddie is always worried leaving him behind with his friends. scared that their own pets are going to make zeus nervous the whole time he’s gone and that he’s going to get even more shy as a result.

steve is the proud owner of a beautiful white persian cat with the prettiest blue eyes named charlotte. she’s picky with her food and very selective with who she decides she likes. so far, steve and robin are her favorites and every pet sitter steve has ever chosen was quickly on her shit list. every other animal she’s even met is too. even down to robin’s fish. that lives in a tank. and can’t bother her.

one day steve asks eddie if he could pet sit while steve’s gone back home for the weekend. tells him he has a cat who is too prissy for her own good and will probably be so dramatic if she doesn’t like something that he does. eddie laughs and he agrees but warns him he has a dog that’s kind of shy, but says he can keep them separated for a couple of days. steve drops charlotte off with her pink floor pillow and her food and his fingers crossed that he doesn’t get a call that she’s not eating within the hour.

when steve returns, having heard nothing from eddie all weekend, he’s beyond surprised when eddie answers the door with a smile and a “you’re not gonna believe this.”

he walks into eddie’s apartment and finds zeus curled up in his bed asleep and charlotte curled against his side peeking at steve and eddie with her head tilted.

against all odds, zeus and charlotte quickly become inseparable and steve and eddie do too.

au august day 5: pet sitters

#au august #steddie #might not be my best installment as i’m battling the hangover shakes and heat exhaustion #but god dammit i’m going to post one of these every day if it kills me #i’m on my ‘eddie has a scary dog’ bullshit recently #but that + #steve has a prissy cat is just so #mwah #delicious

[bcyhoods]

hi miss cece babe! love the new blog, very cutie! i do come to you with a request if you like <3 shy!reader getting steve harrington flowers on a bad day of his <3 been obsessed with shy!reader, just too soft <3

u are so cute and u sent this a while ago SORRAY. this is just a short little thing to help get out of a writing rut!

talks about migraines (brief allusion to vomiting but nothing more than a sentence)

Steve could be extremely prideful at times.

He’d jump into action headfirst even if it meant a swift blow to his temple or a demobat bite to the abdomen. More often than not, he’d reap the consequences days later in the form of a dull headache or a singing pain in his bones, in addition to the scars and bruises painted on his freckled skin. Whenever you’d ask about it though, he’d give you a charming smile with a quick, “I’m fine. You should see the other guy.”

It was usually enough to quell anybody’s concerns, safe for your own ever-worrying mind, but even then, it would soothe you just enough. He never did it out of spite or malice, he just didn’t want to worry you. Plus, he wasn’t weak. He could handle it.

Today just wasn’t his best effort, he supposes.

The pair of you were supposed to go out today, but this morning he woke up with a particularly nasty migraine that wasn’t letting up any time soon. And no witty remark was able to save him from your doting presence (which he was quite grateful for).

You’re sat beside him on his bed, pushing away the strands of hair that stick to his forehead.

“‘M sorry,” he says meekly. His complexion is pale, face screwed up in discomfort, and a sheen layer of sweat coats his skin. Any food that he was able to get down would just fight it’s way back up.

The apology makes you frown. Your hand hovers over his stomach, a featherlight touch out of fear that it’d make matters worse. “Don’t be, it’s not your fault,” you reply softly.

He reaches for your hand with his own, gently bringing it down to fully rest on the swell of his stomach and sighs in relief. The gesture gives you goosebumps. You remain this way for awhile, your other hand combing through his hair, until he’s able to drift off.

The first time he wakes up, you’re laying a warm, damp rag on his forehead and placing a delicate kiss to his cheek. You’re telling him something, but he’s not awake enough to understand. Though his headache seems to have dulled.

When he awakes again, the throbbing sensation in his head is thankfully nothing but a memory. Faint hums and the whistling of a kettle motivate him to get out of bed when he sees new items sitting on his bedside table.

You’d gone to the store to get some aspirin, which now sits on the wood beside a cup of water. But it’s not that he’s interested in, not really. Beside the medicine, with a blue ribbon around its neck, sat a vase filled with daisies. A flimsy piece of paper rested against the glass that read For Stevie :) in your handwriting.

With a gooey smile on his face, he pads into the kitchen to find you. Your back faces him as you pour liquid from the kettle into a small mug. He calls out your name, and the second you turn around, he feels his insides turn to mush at the way your face brightens.

“Oh, you’re awake!” You recoil at the momentary loudness in your voice. “Are you feeling okay?”

Steve nods and pulls you into his arms. His thumbs dip under the hem of your shirt to caress the skin of your waist. “Better, now. Thank you for taking care of me.”

You hum in response as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“And thank you for the flowers.”

Suddenly, you feel heat rush to every swell and curve of your face. You didn’t expect him to explicitly mention a few flowers. And now you’re embarrassed.

“They’re feverfew. They’re supposed to help with migraines,” you reply into the cloth of his t-shirt in an effort to hide your nervous, lovesick grin. But the silence that follows makes you queasy.

That is, until he moves to cradle your face in his hands to deliver a firm kiss to your lips. The kind that makes you feel lightheaded, the kind that makes you grasp tightly onto his biceps to prevent you from floating away. You sigh once his soft lips move away from yours and you feel his breath fan your skin as he breathes out a laugh.

“Oh no, you’re running hot. Do you have a fever?” He teases.

#i got more detailed than i wanted to AGAIN dammit #but i want to care for him. #i also didn’t know how to end it so this is what this monstrosity is #ᝰ cece’s scribbles #✮ gf soph #✿ convos with cece #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x gender neutral reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #steve harrington thots!

[kennahjune]

Fuck the Trauma Bond

A Lucas and the Party version of this

…

Lucas was bouncing the ball on the pavement of the basketball court at the playground. It was surrounded by high chain-link fences and the hoops on either end were worn and rusted and the pavement itself was cracked worse than the Upside Down ground.

He had never looked happier.

Dustin and Will looked on from where they sat at the top of the slide on the playground. Lucas was tossing the ball around with a couple of other kids from school that neither of them knew.

But Lucas knew them, and that was all that mattered, apparently.

Max, El and Mike were a little farther back from Lucas, past the lame excuse of a basketball court and in the street, where Max was showing Mike how to skateboard while El loitered and watched.

It was absolutely sweltering. Ranging from 92 degrees to the Devils fucking asscrack, in Dustin totally correct opinion.

He was bored out of his mind but didn’t mind watching Lucas bounce the ball. He looked happier bouncing an orange sphere than he did playing DnD, which unsettled Dustin in a way that made him lightheaded.

“Hey, Will.”

Will hummed in acknowledgment but didn’t look up from his sketchpad.

“Does Lucas look happier?”

Will looked at Dustin with a raised eyebrow before focusing in on Lucas.

“Huh. I mean sure.” He shrugged. “But it’s cause it’s basketball. Lucas really likes basketball. And if he really likes it then why not be happy while doing it?”

Dustin flipped the thought a few times in his head.

It wasn’t that he was mad about Lucas playing basketball. He got over that a while ago after Lucas and Mike had a full-blown argument/mental breakdown that included Mike’s abandonment issues and Lucas’ FOMO (fear of missing out).

But Dustin also wasn’t outright vocally supportive. He didn’t go to the games, he didn’t hang around for Lucas’ practices. He would (probably), but even after Eddie’s name was cleared and he was painted a hero but the government goons, Mike and himself were still targeted heavily in school alongside the rest of Hellfire.

“I don’t really see the appeal, I guess.” He told Will, instead of voicing his inner thoughts.

Will shrugged. “You don’t have to. It’s Lucas’ interest. But simply showing you’re willing to listen to him about said interest can go a lot farther than you’d think.”

“Are you saying I don’t listen to him?”

“I’m saying you guys dismiss him.”

“Dismiss him?” Dustin watched Lucas more intently.

Will hummed. “Literally yesterday. He was talking about his encounter with Steve and how they’d made a really cool new play and you guys all so obviously tuned him out that when he stopped you guys just kept nodding because you hadn’t noticed.”

Huh.

That was really shitty.

“Did we really?”

“Yep.”

“Damn.”

“Damn indeed, Dusty-buns.”

Mike, Max and El joined them a couple minutes later.

“What’re you nerds talking about?” Max asked, sitting at the bottom of the slide with El while Mike climbed up to sit behind the boys and lean on Will’s back.

“How we’re apparently really shitty friends,” answered Dustin with his chin in his hand. He was still watching Lucas. One of the guys playing— a curly blond kid a head shorter than Lucas— pulled him into a weird hug thing where they slapped each other’s backs and immediately went back to playing.

“What?” asked Mike, muffled from where his head was shoved into Will’s shoulder.

“Lucas likes basketball.” Dustin confirmed.

Mike and Max looked at him.

“Yeah? We know that, Henderson.” Max snarked.

“And we know nothing about anything including him and basketball.”

They both seemed to pause.

“What do you mean?”

“Will says we’ve been dismissing him every time he brings it up.”

They both looked at Will, Mike peeling himself off of his back to do so.

Will shrugged and harshly erased something on his paper. “You do.”

“Which is why it’s stopping now.” Declared Dustin.

Mike blinked at him owlishly. “Um, dude? We can’t really go to him games or practices. You know we’ll both get mauled,” he muttered quietly.

The other three looked between Mike and Dustin.

“You’re both having problems still?” Will asked, looking stricken.

“I thought Jason dying would mean they’d fuck off.” Muttered Max.

Mike scoffed. “Just cause Carver’s dead doesn’t mean shit. They still think Eddie’s the Devil and that we’re his fucking worshipers or whatever. They chased me all the way to the back of the school on Wednesday.”

Will winced and Max glowered. Dustin felt the slide shake a little.

“El, relax. It’s not that bad.” Dustin watched El’s gaze soften slightly and the slide stopped rumbling. She looked at him sadly. They’d all heard about the bullying in Cali at some point. Dustin smiled back but it didn’t reach his eyes.

He turned back to address the whole group.

“Sure we can’t go to every game, but maybe we can get Steve to go with us to some. You guys know he wouldn’t let anything happen. And besides— Steve likes sports to.”

That struck a thought in his mind: how many times had he dismissed Steve?

He pushed it back for now.

“And even without going to games—“ he pressed on, “—we can still try and listen to him more.”

Mike and Max nodded slowly. Dustin takes it they hadn’t realized they hadn’t been listening before.

“And speaking of,” Will said, placing his sketch pad and pencils into his bag. “Here comes the man of the hour.”

Sure enough, Lucas was walking backward to them while waving to the guys who were leaving the park altogether. They were all waving back and laughing.

“Hey, guys!” Lucas jogged up to the slide.

“Hey, stalker,” Max greeted cheekily when Lucas bent to give her a kiss.

“Hi, Lucas!” El cheerily added. “Did you have fun?”

Lucas smiled. “Yeah! Daniel— the dude who was wearing the red hoodie like a damn maniac— was stupid fast and really cool! He showed me how he pushes off his feet for speed and when I—… never mind.” He tried for a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes.

Dustin frowned.

“Why’d you stop? Keep going, dimwit. When you what?” Mike prompted.

Dustin snickered when Will slapped his arm lightly.

Lucas looked stricken for a split second before his face broke out in a grin.

“Well—“

And the rest is history.

.

Bonus:

When the first game came up, only 3 months later, Steve took the whole Party— older teens included.

They took Eddie’s van, the kids piled in the back while the teens took the actual seats.

When they got to school it was hectic chaos of Steve taking a headcount and leading everyone in. They struggled to find seats where their whole group would fit and in the end they sat on the bottom line of the bleachers with half of the them on the floor.

It was actually fun, much to Dustin’s and Mike’s surprise. Even if the looks shot at them and Eddie from some of the players were downright hostile.

Steve went with them every time they got up to do anything. No one left without someone else there— so Mike wasn’t alone when Adrian Gonzales tried to corner him by the concessions. And Dustin wasn’t in as much trouble when Treyton Klink pulled him by the shirt into the bathrooms.

So yeah— it wasn’t the best. But that was ok, because the hug Lucas gave them afterwards was worth it. Dustin would go through hell (again) to get another hug like that.

Mike looked about ready to agree with the flush that now littered his face and shoulders.

Will laughed at him and poked fun at him about the blush the entire ride home. Max and Lucas himself eventually played in with it as well, only worsening the blush and making the teasing better.

Lucas was over the moon for the rest of the night.

They slept over at Casa Harrington (as the Party so lovingly called it), piling blankets and pillows and dragged mattresses and discarded cushions on the living room floor while Lucas went on and on and on with Steve for what felt like forever.

Dustin wouldn’t have it any other way.

Especially with the matching smiles on their faces.

Dustin’s never seen them so happy, and he caught Eddie staring at Steve the same way Max was staring at Lucas, so Dustin figured he agreed.

He’d endured literal hell for his friends; what’s so wrong about one interest?

Dustin’s dreams were filled with buzzers and cheering and scoreboards. But that was a problem to complain about tomorrow.

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #will byers #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #el hopper #lucas and steve having a bro bond over sports and doing the weird side hug things #lucas also getting some comfort and support in his new interests #cause he fucking deserves it dammit #and I’m in a soft mood #lumax #listen— henclair is amazing wether platonic or romantic #mike wheeler is a good friend and I will die on this hill #bullies suck ass #but steve will protect them #steve and dustin are brothers #will byers being extraordinary as always

[marriedtobigfoot]

Hammer To Fall did not play in Steve Harrington's car for yall to insist his favorite songs are ABBA or Tears for Fears. Don't get me wrong, those are both excellent, but Steven Motherfuckibg Harrington is a QUEEN STAN!!! I am sick and tired of the Queen erasure when it's the only song we've canonically heard being played by Steve

#steve harrington analysis #stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things 4 #Queen #Im back on my Steve loves Queen bullshit #HE LOVES QUEEN DAMMIT #his favorite album is Day At The Races #He frequently belts out Somebody to Love with all the passion in his heart

[estrellami-1]

(Push Away the) Lonely Times

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Just this, please,” Steven says politely the next time he rolls through Melvald’s.

Jim stops, looks for a second, then sighs. “Y’know how Jim wann’ed me t’look after ya?”

“Yes, sir?”

“I’s a-thinkin’ there’s a conversation we best be havin’. Nuthin’ bad, not t’you, but we gotta get all the duckies in a row, huh?”

“Okay,” Steven agrees, slightly nervously. “Um. Now?”

Jim shrugs a shoulder. “Now. Or you’s could come over after work. Or I could come by yers.”

Steven considers it. “Now?”

“If you wanna,” Jim agrees. “‘Ere’s the whole of it. Yer folks ain’t lookin’ out for ya the way they’s supposed ta. Could mean lotsa trouble for ‘em. Could mean you get taken ‘way, put inna fos’er er summin’.”

“Oh,” Steven says quietly. He looks vaguely nauseous.

“Or you could stay wi’ me,” Jim continues. “No trouble. O’course, there might be when yer folks come back inna town, but Hop’s got ‘em.”

“Oh,” Steven says. “And… I can’t just keep living in my house?”

Jim shrugs. “Not the way we figure.”

“Oh.” He sighs. “I don’t want to be an inconvenience.”

“You ain’t,” Jim says, a tad harshly for the situation, but the kid needs to know. “I’unnow who tol’ you yer an inconvenience, kid, but it ain’t true. You needa place t’stay. I gotta empty house, jus’ me rattlin’ ‘round in there.”

“Just you?” Steven parrots, in awe, like he can’t believe someone else would befall the same fate he did. Jim wants to hug Steven, punch a wall about it. He does neither, takes a slow, deep breath. Lets it out.

“Yeah, kiddo. Y’wanna keep me comp’ny?”

Steven thinks about it. Fidgets with his fingers, looks down, back up. “Y-yeah. Um. When?”

“Soon ‘s yer ready. I c’n pick up you ‘n yer stuff after m’ shift.”

“Okay,” Steven agrees, then looks at the groceries between them. “Should I buy this?”

Jim leans down to smile at Steve. “Long as yer in m’ house, y’don’t gotta buy nuthin’ y’don’t wanna. I’ll get groceries. You be a kid.”

Steven blinks. “But I’m not, sir. I’m ten. Practically an adult.”

The way he says that is metered, stilted, and Jim grits his teeth. “Yer father tell y’that, boy?”

“Yes, sir, he did.”

“Yer father’s wrong. Yer a kid ‘till y’ c’n get a job. By my math, y’got six years still.”

“Oh,” Steven says, eyes wide. “Okay. Um. I’m gonna go pack.” He hesitates. “Should I put these back?” He motions to the groceries.

Jim laughs. “‘S m’ job, kiddo, not yers. Y’ go pack.”

“Okay,” Steven agrees, running out of the store after another small smile directed at Jim.

Jim sighs, rubs a hand over his face, and starts to put away the groceries Steven had brought up. He pauses mid-reach and considers the brownie mix in his hand before changing course, stashing it behind his register and resolving to get a tub of ice cream after his shift. He’s a kid, after all, and kids deserve brownies and ice cream.

So do adults, Jim reminds himself, smiling a little. Not without humor, thinks, especially adults who take in ten-year-olds who are too young to be living on their own.

Jim Bronsaw doesn’t pretend to be a saint, but he knows he’s a decent person. Maybe even more than decent, sometimes.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme

#stranger things #steve harrington #Jim bronsaw #did I intentionally make his last name similar-ish to Munson? #maybe so #is it foreshadowing? #maybe so. #mostly just in the way Jim and Wayne are Good Dads Dammit #y’all I fucked up with his accent #it’s taking everything in me to keep it as strong as it is #I may live in the south but I am NOT southern dammit #(I do say y’all though) #starambles

[justknoxville]

major heart eyes

#viva la bam #bam margera #god dammit #dave england #johnny knoxville #mtv jackass #steve o #im literally just sitting here #mtv #jackass the movie #jackassedit #jackass

[sp0o0kylights]

Part Two

Gareth Emerson had no clue what the hell Eddie was thinking. 

There was “adopting lost sheep” as he called it, and “being the nest baby birds needed before they fly” for some of the other poor, mid-year transfers, and all of Hellfire was used to both these adoptees. 

People showed up, always looking a little hesitant, always a little careful, and all of them were welcomed until they found their place in Hawkin’s High. 

This though? This was neither of those things.

No, what Eddie had done was taken a wolf, or a--fucking tiger, that had gotten hurt fighting other fucking tigers, and decided to keep it as a pet. 

Even if said pet was looking very pathetic, with a face full of bruises that apparently, Billy Hargrove caused.

That did not make sitting across from the fallen King and current senior, Steve Harrington, any easier. 

Judging by the rest of Hellfire’s constant uneasy glances and uncomfortable, awkward joking, no one else was comfortable with it either. 

Except of course, for Eddie. 

“Dude can we like, talk for a minute?” Gareth asked, motioning at Jeff and Grant to distract Harrington. Not that it was hard, the jock was too busy staring at his pathetic packed lunch to notice much. 

(The guy brought soup to school and was drinking it cold. What the fuck.) 

“Ga~ary.” Eddie sing-songed, but it was in warning. 

A warning very much ignored, as Gareth stood, and moved to tug Eddie up with him. 

“Now, Eddie.” He said, his own tone a manic, if suppressed version of his own warning.

Gareth was not known for keeping his temper, but he also wasn’t keen on getting his ass kicked this early in the day if Harrington took offense. 

And considering they had all finally caught a look at Hargrove, and the way he fucking stopped and turned on his heel the second he saw Harrington, there was no doubt in Gareth’s mind that Harrington could kick his ass. 

Even in his current, beaten to shit state. 

Eddie huffed a dramatic breath, making sure at least some of his hair moved with it, but stood nonetheless. 

“I’ll return shortly, friends!” He called jovially, before letting himself be dragged backwards several feet. 

Just fair enough away where they could still see the table, but not be heard. 

Particularly not by any invading jocks. 

“What were you thinking!?”  Gareth started, hands crossed over his chest tightly.  “You didn’t even talk to us first!”

“Garebear, look at him.” Eddie said, placing both hands on his friend's face, turning it to look at Steve’s hunched form. 

“Those big, sad, puppy-dog eyes.” Eddie continued, leaning in to whisper in Gareth’s ear. “The pathetic way he slouches.”

 Eddie leaned even closer, lips tickling Gareth’s ear and making the latter swat at him. 

He dropped his hands to Gareth’s shoulders, shaking him lightly. 

“His giant empty house we can use for Hellfire meetings.”

“Is that seriously why you dragged him over here?” Gareth demanded, a little louder than he’d meant too, if Eddie’s abruptly tight grip was anything to go by. 

“Of course not.” Eddie scoffed. “Rumor has it the guy throws money around for his friends and if we play our cards right, we can be the receiving end of that gravy train.” 

Eddie grinned theatrically while he said it, staring into Gareth’s eyes like his smile alone would convince him to play along. 

It was the fakest thing Gareth had ever seen on his best friends face. 

“Don’t bullshit me man.” He said quietly, eyes narrowed. “What’s the actual reason you decided to go against your own doctrine and adopt Steve Harrington, of all people?” 

Eddie’s eyes flicked to Harrington and back. “There’s no other--”

“Eddie.” Gareth snapped, a flash of his temper breaking through. “You’re my best friend. Don’t fucking lie to me like that.” 

“Has anyone told you you’ve been using the word ‘fuck’ a lot, Gare?” Eddie muttered, but it was more subdued, the playful mask falling from his face. 

As a matter of fact, Ms. Click had called him out on it that very morning, but Gareth knew better than to admit that and derail this conversation. 

“Edwin Dale Munson.” Gareth growled, enjoying the way Eddie flinched from his full, government name. 

“Sssh!” Eddie dropped his hands from Gareth’s shoulder to wave them in his face. “Fine, fine, look. Rumor has it he got cheated on, blew up his friendship with Hateful Hagan and Cocky Carol, and then took a beating from Hargrove. All in the same like, week.” 

Eddie tugged at his hair, the movement harsh. 

“I found him walking home in the dark the other day. Said something was wrong with his car, but Gareth.” Eddie paused, gnawing on his lower lip, before he stopped close once again, voice barely above a whisper. 

“I had to coax him in my car and when he got in he kept flinching.” 

“Flinching.” Gareth repeated. 

“Like I was gonna hit him or something.” Eddie explained. “Worse Harrington’s house was dark when I got home. I mentioned to Wayne it didn’t look like anybody lived there and he said he was surprised anyone did. He thought the Harrington’s moved.” 

“Okay.” Gareth said, not quiet following this part of the conversation. 

“He thought they moved because some coworker of his wife worked for them as a house keeper or some shit. Said they bought a place in Chicago. She helped them pack.” 

Another look, but this time Gareth had picked up on what was happening. 

The flinching. 

Not going with his parents.

Staying in Hawkins, when Harrington had a chance to get the hell out. 

It didn’t paint a pretty picture. 

“Shit.” Gareth said finally.

Eddie nodded. “Exactly.” 

Together, they turned to stare at Harrington, who had hunched further into himself now that Eddie was gone from the table. 

“If he turns on us I’m blaming you.” Gareth grumbled finally, and tried not to let the smile that broke out on Eddie’s face effect him. 

“Glad to hear you’re on board, Garebear.” Eddie said, patting his shoulder hard. 

“You’re a fucking teddy bear, you know that right?” Gareth continued as they turned to walk back to the table.

“Shut your mouth.” Eddie fired back. 

“I don't think I will. In fact, Harrington!” Gareth spoke the jock’s name loudly, making the dude jerk and spill some of his soup. 

Bruised eyes looked up at him and Gareth fired a smug right into Harrington’s face. “Wouldn’t you agree that Eddie here is a giant teddy bear?”

“Don’t answer that.” Eddie cut in, as Harrington blinked slowly, a puzzled look overtaking his face. “Gareth here has a big imagination.”

“Let the man give his own opinions. I’m sure he has some!” 

Steve looked between them. 

“I think I’ll plead the fifth.” He decided on. 

“Smart man.” Jeff muttered, causing the rest of the table to snicker.

For the first time since he sat down, Gareth witnessed a small smile appear on Harrington’s face. 

#hellfire adopts Steve #i just love the idea of steve being hellfires mean girl his senior year #like you cant look me in the eyes and tell me Eddie Munson wouldnt be argueing with himself constantly about #Sad Boy Hours Steve #steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #stranger things #0o0 fanfics #steve x eddie #pre relationship #i just wanna see them in school together dammit #gareth emerson #i love him so much

[honesttoglob]

#bigtop burger #btb cesare #btb steve #steve x cesare #stevexcesare #HE JUST WANTS TO EAT ROCKS #DAMMIT #artbylaino

[ftmsteveraglan]

me: "i haven't been into fnaf as much lately, maybe my fixation has passed, i should-"

me: *sees fanart of william with thick thighs and man tiddies*

also me:

#yeah i'm never gonna be normal about him am. i #i don't care what gender you are #thighs are thighs and tiddies are tiddies #dammit this is making me feral again #william afton #steve raglan #shitpost #ftmsr

[devondespresso]

hi today we're thinking about Dustins parental (figures) trauma (because i love him)

like Dustin now has experienced 4 different instances of an older brother figure running into danger to protect him and every time said older brother figure got more and more injured

the first day Dustin meets Steve, Steve leaves the bus with the demodogs to be bait and comes back a bit shaken and with a couple scratches but basically unharmed. hes doing this to protect all the kids but at this point he's known Dustin the longest (maybe an hour or so more but still they had actual conversations in that hour)

then they're at the Byers and Steve fights B*lly for Lucas (and Max i think because he was officially there to take her home) and we hear the kids screaming at B*lly, specifically we hear Dustin scream "you're gonna kill him" and Steve very obviously has a concussion afterwards

then theres season 3. Steve and Robin hold the door while Dustin and Erica escape through vents and when they meet up again both teenagers are drugged and Steve has a black eye, bloody nose, and a split lip and is covered in blood and sweat and thats just what you can see (he mentions ears ringing, difficulty breathing and feeling like his eye is going to fall out, all of which probably comes up later off-screen because hes doing a lot of strenuous activity for someone in his condition)

and then Eddie. Eddie who was asked by Steve to look out for him and Eddie who made sure Dustin got through the portal safely before risking his own safety to help the team. Eddie who so far in canon (duffers please bring him back) died in Dustins arms and kept a smile on his face in his excruciating death to try and ease the blow it'd have on him

and even if you write aus where Eddie does live he's frequently in the hospital for several months or in a coma

now Dustins a child, he's in middle school during all of steves sacrifices and in his freshman year of highschool for Eddie's. He doesn't have a present father and while his mother is very loving she's not the most emotionally stable

and when you think about it, Dustin doesn't really have any parental figure that is 100% stable for him to rely on

His mother gets very stressed and panics a lot (which is fair because shes a presumably single working mom and joyce is in a similar situation but regardless it does put stress on their kids), and we see Dustin immediately stepping up to comfort his mom when their cat Mews is "missing" despite having to see and clean up his cats dead body alone from out of his bedroom

Steve is a relatively emotionally stable figure for him with lots of confident advice and its confirmed that Steves a very safe person for him to go to with both upside down and normal problems

but Steve has gotten hurt A Lot and often times the responsibility of taking care of him falls on Dustin (and I'd go as far as to say Dustin takes on this role himself based on how hes used to taking care of his mom). Dustins the one holding an ice pack to Steve's head when he wakes up in B*llys car and he's mostly the one looking after Steve and Robin while they're drugged. Steve is emotionally safe, but Dustin does have to worry about his safety pretty often (he so easily could've died in season 3 just from repeated head injuries alone)

Then with Eddie its clear Dustin looks up to him as a role model of this cool guy who doesn't care what others think of him, but then Eddie gets involved with the upside down. they meet in the boathouse we see Dustin immediately stepping up to calm him down and help him work through the upside down trauma (and to protect Steve who's once again in physical danger) (and then Eddie dies later so hes not really stable in either aspect rip)

So aside from the upside down trauma having the kids have to grow up too fast and having their childhoods taken away (and this definitely applies to all the kids and teens but we're talking about dusty today), Dustins a character that is consistently looking for a stable parental figure and consistently loosing the stability he finds in them. Which leads him to have to step up, shelf his own emotions, and be a source of stability for his parental figures instead.

i know its wishful thinking at best to hope for a comedic character to have their trauma properly addressed in this show, but id really like to see Dustin struggling with some of this

he probably feels responsible for a lot of shit that happened especially to Steve and Eddie because he was there to witness their injuries and they both got injured to protect him

maybe he struggles talking about certain things with steve despite him remaining emotionally safe because his experiences with comforting his mom and Eddie makes him assume thats normal. maybe hes afraid hes going to wake up one day and Steve will be dead.

maybe he puts himself down the same path steves on now, not his highschool jock path but the self-sacrificing hero path. maybe the party will be in some sort of trouble with no adults around and he'll put himself between the party and the danger because he feels responsible for making sure they're ok.

we've already seen he feels the need to mediate conflict with his friends (mike and lucas's fight in season 1 and asking eddie to postpone hellfire on lucas's behalf) and that he admires Steve's hero stunts (fighting the demodogs in season 2 Dustin says hes awesome when max comments hes insane)

i just want to see people talk about Dustins relationship with responsibility and the lack of stability in his life. i also grew up being The Responsible Friend in my friend group and its fucking exhausting. I just want my guy to get a break, maybe some assurance that Steves not going to fucking die and maybe a moment where he can just let go of tge stress hes holding onto (i don't know tbh if i knew how to fix this feeling i wouldn't need therapy lol)

#dustin henderson #stranger things dustin #steve and dustin #henderfam #claudia henderson #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #steve harrington has trauma but so does dustin dammit #eddie stranger things #the party stranger things #dustin is such a little guy and deserves the world and i will fight to tge death for his honor #join my dustin fan club were we just sit around and talk about how lovely he is #stranger things thoughts #stranger things tumblr #devon thinks sometimes

[afewproblems]

This feels like such a Steve song, you know? (Granted Groundhog Day did not come out until 1993 but let's just ignore that for now)

Like maybe piano player Steve based on my other post here, poured all his feeling and worries about being left behind by everyone he knows and loves into this song.

The kids will be finishing highschool soon and definitely don't need him to babysit anymore, his car was totalled in the earthquakes that nearly decimated Hawkins so he's no longer the party chauffeur, and Robin and Nancy are heading to college in the fall and Eddie has been talking about getting out of Hawkins since he woke up from the hospital and Steve?

Steve feels stuck.

So maybe he writes, he's never been a big writer before, it's always been difficult to connect ideas or find the words he wants, but something takes over on a random Saturday. He gets it all out in a matter of minutes and sits down at the lonely piano in his parents' living room.

They've left for good, his parents, the house is paid off and in his name, they won't be back for it.

He plays around, yelling out the brand new lyrics. Like it's a joke, like his voice doesn't echo around the empty halls and rooms, like it doesn't crack eventually.

He plays around until he has something resembling a little song.

He feels a little better.

He leaves the notebook on the closed piano lid and forgets about it.

Until Eddie picks it up on another random Saturday.

It's just the two of them, they talk and smoke in the yard, and bake a frozen pizza for the two of them. It's nice, quiet and calm. Something neither of them have had a lot of recently.

"Is this a poem Stevie?" Eddie asks with wide eyes, he's grinning but there is a flicker of surprise on his face, Steve scrambles to snatch the scribbler out of his hands but Eddie jumps onto the couch and holds his arms above his head while throwing a hand out to push at Steve's face.

"Give it back Eds it's not--"

"Its good, it's cool if it is a poem man, I didn't know you could write".

Steve steps back allowing Eddie's hand to fall away, "It's uh," he chews his lip and wills the blush that coats his ears and cheeks away, "it's actually a song".

Eddie stares at him as if he's never seen him before.

"Be still my beating heart, Harrington, you never fail to surprise the shit outta me!"

Eddie grabs his arm and leads Steve back to the piano, flipping up the lid with an excited snap.

"Can I hear it?" He asks, voice suddenly soft, as though he knows how big this is for Steve.

He hesitates, this is new territory for the two of them since they have been dancing around each other recently, and he's not entirely sure exactly how Eddie feels about him, and what if this---

"You don't have to, Steve, I don't want you to be all freaked out, about this. I won't say anything if this is like, a secret or something," Eddie backpeddles, flicking the lid shut and putting the scribbler back where he found it.

That cements it for him.

"Its not really a secret," Steve mumbles as he steps forward slowly and takes a seat at the piano bench. He slides over to the far side and looks at Eddie pointedly until the metal-head takes a seat beside him, "but I've only ever played for Dustin, he wanted to learn piano awhile back".

Steve takes the notebook once again and places it in front of him on the stand before shaking out his hands once.

And he plays. His voice is soft as he sings, matching the soft press of the keys, unsure of himself, how he sounds, how it all sounds.

Eddie is quiet until he's done, he's quiet even after Steve is finished.

"That's only the second time I've played it like, the whole way through," Steve mumbles as he reaches up to grab the scribbler. Eddie still hasn't said anything.

Fuck.

"Its stupid, I was just goofing around with something-"

He stops speaking at two arms wrap around him and he gets a face full of wild curls.

"Shut up Harrington, that was great, that was, fuck, you wrote that?" Eddie whispers into Steve's chest, it's muffled slightly but Steve catches every word.

He slowly raises his own arms to wrap around the other man and leans his head down to rest on Eddies, "yeah Eds," he says with a smile.

Eddie tips his head away slowly, giving Steve a chance to move his own out of the way, he holds Steve's gaze, arms still wraps around him loosely.

"You know you've got me Steve," Eddie says slowly, his brown eyes flick back and forth between Steve's own, "you're not alone, I mean".

Steve opens his mouth to agree, to nod and placate and sweep it away, under the rug again.

"And l know that just saying that doesn't mean anything," Eddie continues interrupting Steve's train of thought, "so I'll do my best to show you every damn day, if you'll let me".

It's a charged, this thing hanging between them, and Steve isn't quite sure what to do about it.

Luckily Eddie's never been one for fully thinking before doing.

He leans forward, his face so close that Steve can count his eyelashes and see the flecks of honey in his warm brown eyes. Eddie nudges Steve's nose with his own and kisses him.

Its soft, warm, Eddie tastes like pizza and weed and his lips are chapped but its perfect.

Eddie pulls away slowly, leaving himself in Steve's space, though his eyes are wide, nervous.

"Every, every day huh?" Steve manages after a beat, his heart racing in his chest, his hands itching to reach into Eddie's hair as this unamable thing between them barrels into something more.

"Yeah Stevie, and maybe I'll have to pick your brain for our next Corroden Coffen hit," Eddie whispers with a grin on his lips.

He meets Steve in the middle this time and swallows his laughs with another kiss.

#Youtube #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve plays piano #first kiss #let steve harrington have hobbies dammit #this is so soft #em beihold #groundhog day #listen #i know that the movie came out in 93 but lets just agree that it came out in 83 #all in favour say aye #stranger things season 4 #eddie lives #eddie munson is very soft in this #piano player steve harrington

[kennahjune]

OOOOO

Hello Hi Yes

I’ve only seen this done once before but I seriously wanna put my own twist on it.

Steve, Tommy, Eddie and Billy who all get stuck in the school post s3 pre s4 after being cornered by a demogorgan and not having anywhere else to go.

But like— the twist; there’s no Billy (he’s dead, sorry) and it’s Corroded Coffin instead. Yes Tommy’s still there because I crave Stommy friendship.

So they’re all caught up at the high school after school for one thing or another, and they all end up meeting in front of the front office while trying to leave but then Tommy and Eddie get into an argument over something dumb and then a demogorgan hits and Steve’s like in charge and shit idk.

And there’s a part where Eddie’s like “THATS NOT WHAT A DEMOGORGAN IS!” and Steve is like “I DONT FUCKING CARE BCAUSE EITHER WAY ITS GONNA BITE YOUR FUCKING FAVE OFF”

And there’s another part I really wanna write where Tommy is panicking really bad to the point of a full blown panic attack and Steve is like “I’ve got this” and calms him down as easy as spelling his name.

And another part where Steve gets a really bad cut or smth on his leg and Eddie and Tommy have to physically hold his ass down to get him to cooperate.

There’s much gay tension, obviously.

And Eddie and Tommy bickering. Lots of that.

And then there’s this one part where Steve finally gets his walkie to work (cause it wasn’t before for some reason) and he calls role call and Eddie and CC are like “HENDERSON? WHEELER?? SINCLAIR???”

Idk man, I just need Stommy redemption, Eddie and Tommy bickering, and Steddie getting together under fucked up circumstances. Also CC interacting with Tommy and Steve in a positive light is such a funny thought to me idk why.

But yeah that’s it. Might write it, might not. Idk yet but it’s def out there now.

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #eddie munson #lucas sinclair #tommy hagan #corroded coffin #cc #steddie #stommy #but platonic #the upside down strikes again #tommy and steve being actual friends #cause I crave it #and i can't stop thinking about it #and I deserve nice things dammit #so does steve #so he gets a bf and new friends #my boys 🫶 #my babies 🫶 #gareth x will eventually 👀 #maybe #still dunno how I feel abt it #robin buckley #will byers #max mayfield #el hopper #having a lot of thoughts #gay steddie thoughts

[enigmatist17]

This is 100% pandering for probably me :')

I am absolutely feral for Simon, and Steve is 100% the kinda guy to have friends (well he doesn't think of them as friends because Steve doesn't have friends, but Danny is working on that with him) all over the world, and if they need help? He's got your back :)

---------------

They all drive on the wrong side of the road here.

It's the first thing Simon thinks when he steps out of the airport, duffel bag readjusted as he scans the cars coming in and out of the pick up zone. The heat isn't as suffocating as it was back home, the Australian almost wondering if he was going to need some sort of sweater when a silver camaro pulls up just in front of him. 

"Always on time eh?" The taller man who piles out of the car just chuckles, moving to help scoop up the other bags piled behind where Simon had been standing up and into the luggage rack attached on top.

"Pretty sure my commanding officer would appear from thin air if I wasn't."

"Probably not, but thanks all the same, McGarrett."

"Don't mention it. Come on, my place isn't far and you look like you need a day to just blackout." 

"Tell me about it mate." Simon climbed into the passenger seat, sinking back with a relieved groan. "Forgot how much I hate flying."

"Well, you're not going anywhere anytime soon, so no more worries for now." The SEAL slipped back into the driver's seat after making sure everything was secured, and soon the duo were driving out and into the island after some minor traffic.

"Mate, the pictures you've sent don't do this place justice." Simon whistled, taking in the area while digging out his phone to take a short video. Steve just smiled to himself while turning on the radio, the occasional crow from the Aussie beside him breaking the amicable silence between them.

"Do you mind if I swing by work to grab something real quick?" Finally distracted with taking videos and pictures, Simon glanced over with a shrug.

“I’m not bitin’ to go anywhere, s’long as we can get some brekkie afterwards.” 

“It’s 14:00, but I know a few people who can hook you up, my treat.”

“That’ll work.” Simon’s back popped a little bit as he stretched, eyeing some of the older buildings with an interested hum. The police department they pull up to is no different, Steve pausing for a moment when Simon got out alongside him. “Need to stretch is all.”

“C’mon, you can meet the gang.”

“Is your Danno bloke there?” Simon grinned, catching the way Steve’s head jerked in surprise. “What?”

“He’s not my Danno…” The SEAL grumbled as they headed up and into the building, the Aussie eyeing the station up and amused to find it wasn’t too different from his own once you stepped inside. Desks from 1975, coffee machines that barely ran as such, and desk chairs that probably needed to have been thrown out ages ago, Simon shakes his head in amusement as Steve takes him into an area that was finally part of modern times. He can see a small group huddled around some sort of central monitor station, a shorter blonde man waving his arms around while he explains something Simon can’t quite catch until they’re within range.

“Did I miss something?” Steve interrupted the blonde, who shot him an annoyed look before catching sight of Simon.

“Yes you did, and who is this?” The accent made Simon smile a bit, and he stepped forward with a wave.

“You’re Danno right?” The look Danno shot Steve would have sent just about anyone running, but the other just smiles a bit before heading for his office while pulling out his phone.

“Detective Danny Williams. So, c’mon, name.” Danny waved for Simon to speak, clearly sizing the Aussie up. Simon doesn’t get a chance to open his mouth before the woman beside Danny nudged his side hard enough to make the Jersey detective grunt.

"Before he hogs all the attention, I'm Officer Kono Kalakaua." Kono grinned, offering a hand to give Simon a firm handshake. "And that's my cuz Chin."

"Lieutenant Chin Ho Kelly." The men across the table gave a small wave, and Simon clocked him as probably one of the calmer team members. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise, I've heard only good things about you lot." Simon waved back, aware that Danny was still staring at him. "Detective Senior Constable Simon Joyner, nice to meet ya.” Simon flashes his biggest smile, and the grumpy blonde softens just a fraction.

For a moment blonde hair turns black, pale skin sunkissed, and Simon can let himself be selfish for a moment before the familiar image fades in the blink of an eye.

“Fancy title, but nice to see another cop ‘round here. Four of us might finally outrank the super SEAL, which I’m curious to know exactly how you know him?” Danny crossed his arms as he leaned back against the monitor, the movement more relaxed rather than cautionary.

“Uh, well I nearly ran over ‘im when he and some of his buddies were celebratin’ something.” Simon let out a slightly embarrassed laugh, noting quite a few eyes looking over at Steve in his office, the man looking slightly confused at all the looks as he spoke on the phone. “Stevie remembered me, tracked me down somehow, and treated me to drinks as thanks for making sure he and his lot got back to their hotel.”

“Stevie? Since when can anyone call him Stevie, because I sure as hell can’t call him Stevie.” Danny complained, earning a few chuckles from the other two who had been watching most of this in amusement. 

"Didn't know he was one of them fancy American soldiers, and we just kept in touch after that." Simon hummed, stretching a little bit with a slight wince. 

"So are you visiting then?" 

“Uh, sorta?” Simon shrugged, “Always been meanin’ to catch up with Stevie, and nows a time as any.”

“In the middle of the holiday season?” Chin asked, and luckily Steve exited his office before Simon could squirm in discomfort.

“Simon, I’m ready to head out if you are.” The Aussie nodded, noting some files tucked under Steve’s arm. “Call if you guys need me.”

“Will do, now off with you.” Danny made a shooing motion. “Poor kid looks like he’s about to drop.”

“‘M not a kid…” Simon groused, but gave a cheerful wave as he and Steve headed back to the car, fighting back a few yawns. The island state was beautiful enough to keep the Australian alert enough as they eventually pulled to the stop outside a modest little home, Simon pilling out and glancing around with a low whistle.

“You’re set up here mate.”

“It’s nothing special.” Steve shrugged, grabbing the carry-on luggage. “I’ve got the guest bed set up, room has an attached shower.”

“Don’t mind if I do.” Simon grabbed whatever was left before following Steve inside, figuring he’d get the rest of his stuff later. “You lot need to worry about spiders here?”

“Uh a little bit, not as bad as what you’re used to.” Steve watched as Simon set his shoes upside down by the door before scanning the floor, quietly glad they didn’t have as much deadly wildlife here at home. The guest room was a decent size, the queen bed dressed with fresh sheets and a newly assembled set of dressers tucked in the corner. “If we need more let me know, and I’ll go pick up an extra set.”

“Nah I can make it work, this is too much already mate.” Simon dumped his backpack on the bed, clearly blown away by the generosity. 

“Hey, I get it.” The meaning hung heavy in the air as Simon kept his eyes on the floor, and was glad that Steve was not one to press. “Need a drink or anything?”

“No, I’m fine.” He manages to scrounge up a strangled thing of a smile, and Steve places the two suitcases he’d carried in by the door before vanishing without a sound, the door closing with a soft click. Simon wastes no time pulling out a fresh set out lounge clothes and his travel bag before retreating to the bathroom.

The warm water did it’s job washing away the weariness of travel, and for a good minute Simon looks out the window that slowly fogs up, the crashing waves a small comfort. It’s not like back home, not the same sounds of Bondi that had filled many a happy afternoon, not what he heard with a certain kis-

Simon curses and flicks the water so it’s cold, and the sea vanishes behind the condensation as he finishes his shower and shuts the water off. He’s trembling a little when he dries off and slips on his comfort clothes, throwing his phone to charge on the bedside table before crawling under the sheets.

The waves are the last thing he hears before exhaustion finally takes hold, a blinding smile flashing in his mind's eye before Simon drifts into a dreamless sleep.

#hawaii five 0 #danny williams #steve mcgarrett #mcdanno #chin ho kelly #kono kalakaua #city homicide #duncan freeman #simon joyner #duncan x simon #absolutely feral #it's a random older Australian show but dammit I love it #personal