#tw implied child abuse | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

unclewaynemunson · 1 year

Text

'No no no Steve wait, don't throw that a...way.' The end of the sentence died on Eddie's tongue as the leftover lasagna, basically in slow-motion, tumbled out of the dish and into the bin. Eddie could almost hear a funeral march start to play over the dull thud and the sound of crushing eggshells.

'Fuck,' he said, emphatically.

'That was barely half a portion,' Steve remarked with a careless shrug while putting the empty dish back on the kitchen counter.

And Eddie groaned, tried to count to ten in his head but didn't even make it to two.

'I was gonna have that for lunch, man, add a slice of bread and an apple and I'd have a decent meal!'

There must have been something in his voice that told Steve that he wasn't just being overly dramatic but genuinely annoyed, because his face dropped and he shot a quick glance at the dish, as if that would magically summon the lasagna back into it, untouched by gross eggshells and coffee dregs.

'Seriously, that was perfectly good food, why would you throw that away?!'

'I can buy you lunch tomorrow?' Steve suggested sheepishly.

And, well, that hit a sore spot.

'That's not the fucking point!' Eddie exclaimed in frustration. 'I'm not your charity case or some shit, I can take care of my own meals – as long as you don't throw my food away!'

And again, it was like Eddie saw it happen in slow-motion: Steve flinched, took a stumbling step backwards, created as much distance between himself and Eddie as possible in the trailer’s tiny kitchen by bumping his back against the counter; something crossed his face that Eddie had never seen there before. And... shit.

All his frustration dissolved right on the spot and he immediately took another step away from Steve, even though everything inside of him wanted to cross that distance and hold him. He raised his hands in the air, cautious not to move too sudden.

'Steve, I'm not mad at you,' he said, forcing himself to sound as calm as possible despite his heart beating like crazy. 'I got annoyed, sure, but – it's okay. We're okay. You're okay. I didn't wanna hurt you, I promise.'

Steve swallowed, let his eyes dart everywhere except at Eddie's face while he tightly crossed his arms in front of his chest. The fear seemed to have disappeared from his face, replaced by something else; something expertly concealed within seconds. Anyone less well-versed than Eddie in the craft of noticing every little detail about Steve Harrington wouldn't notice; but Eddie did.

'You wanna talk about what happened there?' he asked, hesitant.

Steve didn't answer right away, his eyes still frantically darting around the trailer and his lower lip sucked between his teeth.

'What do you mean?' he finally said.

'Can I come closer?' Eddie asked. He felt like it would be so much easier to have this conversation if he could touch Steve; if he could smell him and have him in his orbit.

Steve nodded; Eddie sighed a breath of a relief and crossed the distance between them to rest his hands against Steve's sides; not quite an embrace, but something grounding for both of them nonetheless.

'I kinda recognized that look in your eyes, I guess,' Eddie quietly admitted. 'And the way you flinched. Like you were scared I was gonna do something bad.'

'I know you wouldn't –'

'I know,' Eddie was quick to reassure him. There was a beat of silence and Eddie wondered how much he should push. But he knew that he needed this conversation to happen, that it would keep gnawing at both of them if they didn't talk about it now.

'It's because of your dad, isn't it?'

Steve nodded, still looking slightly past Eddie.

'I'm sorry.' Eddie exhaled sharply, trying to keep his emotions under control; he knew that aimless anger at Steve's father wouldn't get them anywhere; not here, not right now. 'I mean, I knew he was bad, but I had no idea that it was... like that.'

He could hear Steve breathe out while he stared at some point just above Eddie's head.

'Sometimes I think all that crap is behind me now,' Steve quietly started to explain. 'But then something like this happens and it – it just catches me by surprise, is all. Like I'll never completely be free of the fear.'

Eddie nodded. 'Uncle Wayne, he... He looks a lot like my father - even though he's nothing like him. Took me years to fully trust him. He makes sure to never raise his voice, but still, sometimes when I see him make a sudden movement from the corner of my eyes, I just... freeze. Like it's some kind of instinct that’ll always stay with me.'

Steve finally looked Eddie in his eyes again, stunned and a little bit shocked.

'Your dad, too?'

Eddie nodded. 'Mhm.'

And wordlessly, Steve pulled him closer, until Eddie was enveloped in his warm arms and their chests were pressed against each other. Eddie let his eyes fall shut, breathed in Steve's familiar scent while he nestled his face in the crook of his neck and tightened his own grip around Steve's back.

They stayed like that for minutes, maybe even a whole eternity.

'Should we make rules?' Steve finally asked, in a hesitant voice and without pulling away from their embrace.

'What kind of rules?'

'Like, things to make sure that this doesn't – that we won't get scared. I know we can't promise not to fight, but...' He trailed off; Eddie could feel him shrug his shoulders.

He started slowly stroking one hand up and down over Steve's back. 'What was the thing that got you afraid, earlier?'

'Your loud voice – and the way you stepped into my space, I guess.'

'Okay.' Eddie nodded. 'So no yelling, and we try to keep our distance when shit goes sour. Sound good?'

Steve hummed against Eddie’s neck. 'Yeah. And for you? You mentioned the sudden movements, with Wayne?'

'Yeah, no sudden movements would help,' Eddie admitted.

'Okay, I can do that.'

Eddie squeezed Steve tighter. 'Thank you.'

Steve huffed. 'You're the one who started this conversation; I should be thanking you.'

Eddie lifted his face to press a gentle kiss against Steve's cheek, and another one at the corner of his lips.

'I'm sorry for startling you.'

'That's okay, you couldn't know.'

'Can you stop doing that, please?’ Eddie said with a chuckle. ‘Let me say thank you, let me apologize. Let me take care of you.'

Steve chuckled too; never before had Eddie been so grateful to hear that sound. 'I'll try.'

'You wanna stay the night?'

Steve shuffled, pulled back a little bit so that Eddie could see his face; there was a frown between his eyebrows.

'I'm not sure if I'm in the mood, after, you know...'

'Hey,' Eddie said, softly. 'You can stay the night for other reasons, too, you know. To have some comfort. To fall asleep together. To let me make sure that you're doing alright.'

'You sure?'

'Hell yes.'

Steve's head dropped down to Eddie's shoulder again, and Eddie lifted his hand to comb through his hair.

'Yeah, I'll stay.'

#don't mind me rambling about stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #not sure if / how i should tw this so please lemme know if i should!#stranger things #fruity ficlet #tw implied abuse #tw implied child abuse

2K notes · View notes

qcoded · 1 month

Text

Redrew a panel of Makima and Denji w/ these two :P aghhh the blood on their clothes looks a bit weird 😭

197 notes · View notes

fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

Text

thinking about Max and the Munson's living across the way from each other post s3 again, but maybe specifically Max living across the way from Wayne post s3.

Wayne Munson knows what a kid looks like when they hide behind well practiced and carefully crafted defense mechanisms, after all, and he recognizes a kid with too much responsibility on their shoulders.

He sees this teenage girl with the pigtails and the hard eyes who doesn't answer the door when her friends come to call even though Wayne saw her sitting on the porch twenty minutes ago; who is always the one bringing groceries home on foot even when her mom's car is there; whose bedroom light is too frequently on when Wayne gets home before the sun even has the chance to think about rising.

And he's not gonna overstep about it, he has no intention of making this girl uncomfortable because he is a stranger to her and he knows how both he and Eddie look on a first glance, wouldn't blame her for not being entirely trusting, but he keeps an eye out for her anyway.

Tells Eddie too-- "She's home alone a lot, you make sure no one tries takin' advantage, hear?"-- even if Eddie is mostly preoccupied with his own shit most of the time, because if Wayne can recognize a kid hiding, a kid carrying too much around on that skateboard of hers, then Eddie certainly can too.

"You adopting another stray, old man?" is Eddie's response, but he glances out through the blinds at the trailer across the way with a heaviness to his shoulders in understanding at the sight of that girl sitting on the porch with her headphones on and a school book in her lap that she's decidedly not paying any attention.

"Something like that," Wayne claps him on the shoulder, squeezes as he passes by, but he doesn't think anything will really come of it.

There's not much they can do except keep an eye out, carry the Mayfields' paper up to the porch on rainy days so it won't get soggy and unreadable, offer a wave and a kind word and a reminder that "if your Mama ain't home and you need something, you just give us a knock," despite the brush off he gets every time.

And then one night-- one morning really, before the sun is about to rise-- Wayne pulls up at home after his shift to find Eddie standing out in the snow, odd enough in and of itself made odder by the fact he isn't alone.

"--don't know what you think you're gonna accomplish here at four in the goddamned morning, Harrington, but--"

"I mean, that doesn't feel like any of your business."

"You're parked outside my home, yeah it's my business," Eddie gestures broadly at the unfamiliar BMW the two of them are standing next to as Wayne clambers out of his own truck on tired legs and overworked shoulders.

He needs a hot shower, a good, long sleep.

But Eddie is getting in this other kid's face and it's--

"I'm parked outside that home," Harrington, big coat and gloves but thin pajama pants poking out underneath it all, points at the Mayfield trailer with exhausted exasperation and something tinged with a bit more urgency too, "and I don't know you, man, nothing I do is any of your business--"

"Steve come in-- do you have visual yet, over?"

"Jesus Christ," Harrington reaches into the front seat of his car, yanks out a radio that has Wayne's eyebrows shooting up even as he approaches them, the impatient and anxious shift of Eddie's untied sneakers in the December slush. "Gimme a minute," he says into the walkie-talkie, "I told you I'd call when I did."

"Yeah, but it only takes you ten minutes to drive to her place and--"

Harrington shoves the antenna down and shuts the thing off, just as Wayne finally stops beside his nephew with a hand at his elbow.

"Everything alright here, boys?"

Wayne knows his kid, is the thing, so he knows the protective tension in the cross of those arms, the furrow of his brow, knows that Eddie is maybe seeing himself in Max Mayfield a little too fully on this night, dragged out of his bed by god only knows what to argue with a Harrington in the brisk wind of winter.

And Wayne knows his kid, so he recognizes the work of his jaw when he's about to burst out into a spiel to make himself the target instead of whoever he's put behind him this time around, but he doesn't get the chance to start before he's being interrupted.

"Steve, why are you harassing my neighbors."

Flat and unimpressed but shaky around the edges like she's not quite getting enough air, the orange glow of the light inside her trailer spilling out past her into the blue of night as Steve Harrington's legs all but give out with a breath of--

"Oh, thank god," he shuts the door to his car behind him as he takes a few steps closer to him, Eddie trailing like he's ready to literally put his body between them instead of just figuratively, "are you okay?"

"I'm not the one driving around town in the middle of the night, what are you doing here?" she crosses her arms, doesn't leave the cracked doorway at the top of the steps and Harrington doesn't try to climb them either.

And then it's a quick, well-punctuated punch of a conversation in which Wayne feels like he's missing about half the facts, standing by nonetheless.

"Lucas walkied."

"I told him I was fine."

"You called him at three A.M. and hung up on him without explanation," Steve points out surprisingly levelly.

"Yeah. After I told him I was fine."

"Max."

"I thought I wanted to talk about it and changed my mind."

"You know he'd listen."

"I can't-- you know I can't--"

"Yes you can."

"Not about him. Not to Lucas."

"To me, then," Steve throws his hands up in exasperation, and Wayne can feel something crackling in the air.

It's the same thing that had been there the first handful of times Eddie had picked a fight with Wayne after he first moved to Hawkins, looking for the line, looking for how far he could go before it all went to shit again.

Wayne knows this girl, even if he doesn't know her, because years ago he'd brought a boy with a buzzcut for a visit and he'd never left.

Which is maybe why he speaks up even though he knows how that boy would've reacted.

"If you need something, kiddo..."

"I need everyone to leave me alone," she snaps, striding out all the way onto the porch, only the bravado of it falters when the door slams shut behind her and she all but jumps out of her skin. "Fuck. God, shit, that door--"

She opens it again, yanks it nearly off its hinges just to slam it once more like she's trying to break the thing.

And now she's definitely not getting enough air. Now she's--

"Max, hey, alright--"

"Buddy, I dunno--"

"Back off, Munson, this is really not your business," Harrington shoves past Eddie and strides up the steps as Max slumps down onto the top one, arms wrapped around herself and Eddie looks ready to fight but Wayne just.

He doesn't know Steve Harrington, doesn't even really know his family beyond the way of small towns and knowing names and the neighborhoods in which they reside, but he knows a kid in distress leaning towards safety even if they don't believe they deserve it and Max Mayfield is leaning towards him.

Not Wayne, not Eddie, but this kid with the walkie-talkie and-- is he wearing two different shoes?

Wayne waits the compulsory moment to see Max really fall apart, right there into the fabric of Steve's coat as she keeps her hands tucked under her arms but catches her breath with that one point of contact-- forehead to shoulder-- as Steve speaks gently, words getting caught in the wind. As she stutters out rattling feelings right back.

"The door slammed when she left for work and I-- thought he was-- back again-- I thought-- and I shouldn't've-- not Lucas-- not for, for this--"

Wayne crosses the distance between him and Eddie, hand on his shoulder dragging him out of his own head, wherever it is he goes when his gaze goes glassy and tired like it does now in the gray glow of this place as the snow starts up again.

"You did good," Wayne murmurs, tugging Eddie back towards their own home, just across the way. "Good job, Ed, she's gonna be okay."

"She's..." Eddie clears his throat, looks so much younger than he is for a moment.

"Being looked after," Wayne says with a certainty he wouldn't have felt about the matter a day ago, Eddie following him listlessly back up the steps to the unlocked front door. "You did good."

"I didn't do anything," Eddie frowns, the pink of his cheeks and his nose practically glowing once they're inside.

"You showed her you've got her back," Wayne tells him without room for argument, pulling off his winter coat and moving to heat up water on the stove even as Eddie peeks through the curtains again, seemingly unable to accept that nothing bad is going to happen tonight.

Wayne can't be sure what put him in this state of mind, how he even got alerted to Harrington's arrival in the first place, but he knows he'll find his way back to solid ground soon enough.

Hot tea and warm clothes, when Wayne pulls Eddie away from the window, he catches sight of Steve speaking into the walkie with one hand and holding Max to rest against his shoulder with the other.

He'll make sure they get out of the cold before he goes to bed, but for now he has his own kid to sit with in the ghosts of past hauntings brought back to life for the night.

"We gotta keep an eye out for her," Eddie mutters as he accepts the mug Wayne hands him, feet tucked up under a blanket on the couch.

Wayne sits down next to him and props his tired feet up on the coffee table with a heavy breath.

"We will," he says, because he knows there's no discouraging Eddie now.

The kid learned his habit for picking up strays from somewhere, after all.

#dot post #dot fic #this was a three sentence thought that turned into 'oh wait I have feelings to share' so whoops #eddie munson #wayne munson #max mayfield #steve harrington #tw implied child abuse #I entered this fandom having feelings about max and eddie bonding and here I remain

1K notes · View notes

a-hobit · 1 year

Text

"Unwelcome"! Pages 5/6/7

Thank you all for your patience😭💖!! I know it's been...ugh multiple months but I think that extra time has improved the story a lot so please enjoy! I promise the next update won't be too far off😅

(Also please do give some love to my amazing editor @grimrosearts they've helped me work through so much and I hope you can go over and give them a follow! They've got amazing work on their Twitter and Tumblr 😉)

Last pages!

#toh #the owl house #the owl house fanart #toh fancomic #toh fanart #unwelcome comic #huntlow #huntlow fanart #luz and hunter being siblings makes me want to eat recycled cardboard #luz and hunter are siblings #luz noceda #hunter noceda #willow park #amity blight #gus porter #lumity #TW blood #tw implied child abuse

783 notes · View notes

pinkypastal · 1 year

Text

Why does baby Jay look exactly like Danny phantom to me here??

#like what lol #the fanfics lied to me. it was actually jason who was Danny's secret twin #jason todd #Danny phantom #danny fenton #red hood #robin #batman #dc #batfam #dc comics #dp x dc #dc x dp #robin ii #tw implied child abuse

2K notes · View notes

skillzissue · 8 months

Text

TW///VENT ART

That’s pretty sad, isn’t it?

projectingwhatsthat-

246 notes · View notes

clevercatchphrase · 7 months

Text

Page 266

(Links coming in afternoon reblog!)

#Undertale #Undertale Comic #Undertale AU #Ghost switch #gs comic #asriel #chara #my art #tw implied child abuse #tw suicidal ideation

189 notes · View notes

phykoha · 4 months

Note

who was Bad Dog before they became bad dog?

they don't really... remember

#phy's sketchbook #inbox answer #art #bad dog series #original ocs #original character #original work #tw implied child abuse

131 notes · View notes

strawberryspence · 11 months

Text

disclaimer: this is the most personal work i have yet. please be kind. trigger warnings: alcoholism, attempted suicide, and implied child abuse. please heed the warnings.

Eddie flips the coin in his hand.

As a child, Eddie used to drink orange juice from the carton. He likes the pulp, the tanginess, the comfort.

When he gets sick, his mother buys it for him, and like magic, it heals him. It could be the flu or the cold, but with orange juice, it heals everything.

(It's not. It's his mother and her healing magic. Her soft hands holding him through the night, her gentle humming as he sleep in discomfort, her love in the chicken soup.)

Eddie hates alcohol. He hates the burn on his lungs. The way it slides down, all grimy and hot. He hates the bitter taste in his mouth, something you can't wash even with brandname mouthwash.

Eddie hates the smell. The strong smell that stays on you for days, it sticks on your clothes, on your beddings, on your couch.

Eddie hates it. Hates it when he hears the click of a can opening, reminds him of his father coming home. Hates it when he smells it, reminds him of his father's harsh words and harsher actions.

Eddie hates the comfort he finds in it.

(He doesn't, really. Because deep down, he thinks it's the only escape. It's what he was born into. It's what he deserves.)

(It's not.)

There's broken bottles littering his room. He hides it good enough, he thinks. He thinks he does, until Wayne comes crashing into his room, the third bottle of whisky in his hand. Wayne breaks it against his wall and Eddie cries. It was so expensive.

He promises he'll get better.

He does. He does for a while.

Steve helps. Robin helps. The kids help.

And then—

Well.

It breaks.

It breaks the same way Dick Harrington's wine closet breaks, and Eddie feels dirty and useless as he uses his boyfriend's baseball bat— the same one that has saved their lives time and time again— to get him alcohol.

He doesn't really care. One sip and it'll all be gone.

(He cares.)

Eddie's not sure what pushes him back, if it's the writings on the walls, littered all over town or the heaviness of the truth. The truth that he was nothing but a burden. That he should've died that night in Dustin's arms and into nothingness.

Steve finds him like that, and Eddie hates himself for doing it to him twice. Hates that he made Steve go through it twice. Hates that Steve used the same rhythm twice to give him chest compressions. Hates that Steve has cried over almost losing him twice.

Eddie wakes up in the hospital and he's nothing but bones and meat.

Steve forgives him. But his eyes are sunken and his lips are bleeding.

Dustin doesn't visit him. At least he doesn't get to see Eddie like this.

(It doesn't give him any comfort.)

Steve and Wayne talk to him.

Eddie goes to some kind of facility.

It's not working. It's some kind of fucking bullshit.

(It doesn't work that way. Healing is like building blocks. One block at a time.)

Eddie gets out six months later.

He doesn't go back to Hawkins.

The whole Party picks him up.

(It's okay. It's not home. It was never home. It has always been the people.)

"Hey, you going to bed?" Eddie looks up at the voice. Some sitcom is playing in the background. The only light in the room is the light the TV emits.

Eddie yawns, "Yeah, I'll be right behind you, sweetheart."

Steve smiles at him, and it's like being showered with sunlight in the dark. He moves forward to kiss the crown of Eddie's head and it makes him feel like royalty, "Alright. I'll see you there, love."

Without Steve in the room, it's dark. It's only him and himself. Eddie shuts the TV off, walking slowly to the kitchen.

The coin digs into his palm, the familiar inscription sharp and throbbing. A constant daily reminder.

Eddie opens the fridge.

There's orange juice.

There's always orange juice on the fridge.

He takes the orange juice, drinking it out of the carton. Letting the magical juice heal him once again.

(It doesn't work that way.)

He closes the fridge, and a polaroid taped on the fridge catches his eyes.

It was taken on Eddie's 23rd birthday. Everybody was smiling around him, all toothy smiles and laughs as he blows the cake.

(There's orange juice. There's always orange juice in the other room and in Hawkins and in Boston and in Chicago and in California and in Indianapolis.)

(Maybe it doesn't work that way, but having orange juice does help.)

Eddie flips the coin and slaps it on the back of his hand.

(1 year.)

(One day at a time. Like building blocks.)

#steddie #tw drinking #tw alcohol #tw attempted suicide #tw implied child abuse #tw #dae writes #steve harrington x eddie munson

175 notes · View notes

juliakeyoto · 6 months

Text

You ever think about how Edelgard is just objectively right.

Like, cut out all the war stuff, cut out all the war crime debates, let’s cut to the heart of it: nobility and the crest system. Units that are affected by their crest/being a noble/not being a noble/church stuff:

Ingrid (being passed around to get married due to her crest/her being a woman)

Sylvain (automatically assumes people will only love him for his crest, so he acts like a flirt and hates women)

Leonie (is unironically in debt so she could get a higher education)

Dorothea (I made a rant about this earlier, but she was kicked cast away by her noble dad, and had to do unsavory acts for a chance at her own future)

Felix (is an asshole cause his dad basically slapped him in the face when his brother died over his “knightly and noble” views of how Glenn died)

Bernadetta (is abused by her dad to “become the perfect wife)

Lysithia (is literally dying because of her second crest, which she has due to being used as a test dummy to see if it would even work, leading to all her sibling dying)

Edelgard ( same as above, but worse cause she’s being used as a weapon with barely any way out)

Ashe (his adopted older brother was scapegoated by the church, and when his adopted father looked for Justice he was killed)

Marianne (is literally SUICIDAL because her crest simply has rumors, is harassed by people when they find out)

Caspar (basically has nothing waiting for him at home unless he makes a name out for himself)

Mercedes (has to leave her house due to her dad wanting to make crest babies with her)

Jeritza (went insane or some form of insanity due to the above situation)

Yuri (was used by nobles due to his looks)

Constance (house fell apart since they supported House Hresvelg during the insurrection, so no help came during the Brigid offensive)

Hanneman (his sister was basically made into a baby machine for a cruel, uncaring noble, which lead Hanneman to leave his position)

Mikklan (was cast aside for no crest)

And these are just named characters. How many nameless faces met these same fates? How many died due to some noble scuffle? How many women were used and abused for children? How many died homeless while Nobles counted stacks of gold? When does it end?

And what does the church do? It makes a falling apart, underground “haven” called Abyss. I know any port in a storm, but if the church can afford 5000g a month for teachers that are doing well, they can cough up more money for Abyss. Or is that money better spent on Rhea’s private army, that can execute innocent people like Christophe? Is it better spent on the golden statues of the saints, in the already pristine church that is in the monastery? Is it better spent spreading Rhea’s lies about crests being given from the goddess, leading to people believing they need them to be successful in life? Rhea herself has twisted history and split nations, so she is obviously not corrupt at all. Regardless of her reasons why, her systems and regulations have caused thousands, if not millions to suffer.

So while you’re eating ice cream in Garreg Mach, the church preaches the goddess’s love, while thousands probably die daily due to the system the church supports.

#fe3h #edelgard positive #fe3h edelgard #tw implied abuse #tw implied violence #tw implied death #tw implied child abuse #tw implied sa

107 notes · View notes

wisteriasymphony · 4 months

Text

awww ☺️ mother son bonding... so normal and not traumatizing for a seven year old...

#everything has implications!! i love adding in implications!!! RAAAHHHHHH #except the jagged stone reference that's just filler lol #dark miraculous content #tw implied csa #tw implied child abuse #cupid and psyche #emilie salt #miraculous fandom #miraculous lb #miraculous fanart #mlb adrien #adrien agreste #adrien agreste headcanons #miraculous adrien #miraculous ladybug adrien #miraculous lb emilie agreste #mlb emilie agreste #emilie agreste #cw grooming

46 notes · View notes

morganski-19 · 5 months

Text

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 2: Figuring Things Out

ao3 link, Part 1

cw: implied child abuse and grief

October 1986, One week prior

Julie wakes up to a loud bang followed by some crying. Followed by some yelling about being too loud from crying. She rolls over in the bed that isn’t hers and tries to fall back asleep, but when the blankets are yanked off of her, she’s forced to face reality.

“Get up you lazy shit,” Janice Radburn, her foster parent, mutters at her. She isn’t much of a parent, probably why she never had her own kids. But it was a fast placement and an empty bed, so she’s stuck with her.

Molly, one of the other foster kids, is sitting quietly on her bed, just looking at Julie when she sits up.

“What?” Julie grumbles.

“We’re supposed to be up by eight, they didn’t tell you that, but we are.”

Julie gives her an annoyed look. “It’s a Saturday.”

Molly just shrugs. “Just how it is.”

She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to bite back the words she really wants to say. Instead, she gets up, the old bed creaking with her weight loss, and heads to the bathroom. Already preparing to fight for it when she does.

Oliver runs into her, the other foster kid. He has a fresh bandaid across his knee, but that doesn’t stop him from running around like a lunatic. He apologizes softly before running down the hall again, another thump ricocheting from his bedroom.

The past few days have been, eventful, to say the least. If she wanted to be more realistic, fucking terrible would be the words she’d choose. She looks in the mirror, seeing the massive dark circles surrounding her still red-rimmed eyes.

A shower would be nice, scrubbing off all the weirdness of this house in the hopes that she’ll feel ok again. Crying in a place where she can do it and not be afraid of getting yelled at for being too loud. But she’ll still probably be yelled at for hogging the bathroom. She does it anyway, though, making sure to lock the door behind her.

When the stream of water hits her, everything breaks. Half-silent sobs rip from her throat as the tears stream down her face. She hates her life, she hates this home. She hates that tomorrow she’ll have to say goodbye to her mom forever, even though she’s already long gone.

Once she towels herself off, she slips on one of her mom’s old sweatshirts. It’s been glued to her body since that night, unable to take it off. If she closes her eyes and tries just enough, she can imagine it as her mom’s arms, her perfume still woven through the fabric. Faded from a little overuse, but still there. It mixes with the hurt to form a sense of comfort, that her mom is still there.

Someone bangs on the door. “Get out, you prick,” Mark Radburn yells from the other side, his grumpy personality seeping through the barrier. When she opens the door, she can’t even get the whole way out before he’s bounding past her, shoving her out with the door, muttering, “Bathroom hog.”

She shakes off the side that touched him and heads downstairs. The kitchen is a mess in what she assumes to be their normal. Beer bottles litter the countertops and stubbed-out cigarettes are thrown across the floor. The milk left out on the counter and a spilled bowl of cereal in a puddle on the floor. She’ll have to clean it up, she’s sure of it.

Grabbing an apple that’s surprisingly not mushy and a granola bar, she heads for the back door. When the coast is clear, she opens it as quietly as the squeaky hinges let her, and runs.

. . .

Present Day, October 1986

When Steve wakes up, he almost forgets the events of the previous night has happened. That it was all some weird dream breaking up his nightmare streak. But as he walks into the hallway and sees the guestroom door he normally leaves open shut, it all comes crashing back. Realization sinks through his body as he stares at the door.

He has a sister, a half-sister. His dick head of a dad knocked one of the many secretaries that he slept with and hid it. From him and his mom.

Betrayal fills his body as he walks down the stairs. How could he do this to him, to his mom? To Julie? Cheating was already unforgivable in his mind, but his mom put up with it for some reason. But to have a child with someone else. That might be the final straw to break.

He picks up the phone in his living room, letting the sleep fill his voice enough to feign sickness so he can get out of work. Keith puts up a bit of a fight but Steve wins, he always does. Robin will just hate him slightly because she’ll be left alone in the store on a Saturday with Keith who is incredibly unhelpful.

Heading to the kitchen, he starts a pot of coffee. He’s not quite sure what Julie likes to eat, but he’s never met a kid who doesn’t like pancakes. So he grabs the mix and makes the batter, preheating the pan and plopping the batter into it when it’s ready. He makes some plain and sprinkles chocolate chips in other ones. For options. And because Robin likes them.

Steve pours himself a cup of coffee when it stops dripping, adding in some creamer. He turns around to grab a plate to put the pancakes on when Julie walks into the room.

“I think those are burning,” she states, suspiciously eying the stove behind him.

“Shit,” he says when he turns around, quickly using the spatula to get them off of the pan. He takes a breath, letting out his slight frustration before pouring more batter into the pan. “There’s coffee if you want any, mugs are in that cabinet. Or there’s tea or hot chocolate in the pantry. And there’s orange juice in the fridge.”

“That’s a lot of options.”

Steve shrugs. “I know a lot of picky people.”

Julie walks over to the cabinet he pointed at, uncertainty in her movements. Not like he blames her, she’s been in this house for twelve hours and talked to him less than that. It’d be unrealistic of him to think that one conversation would be enough to make this not awkward, but he’s trying. She pours some coffee from the pot, following Steve’s direction of where the sugar and creamer are.

“I thought you were still asleep,” Julie admits, sitting on one of the chairs at the island. “Thought a heard snoring.”

He snorts. “That would be Robin.”

They sit in silence while he makes the rest of the pancakes, successfully not burning another one. He sets the plate on the center of the island, taking the seat farthest from Julie so he doesn’t crowd her.

Thankfully the silence is cut by Robin entering the room, still half asleep and tripping over her own feet.

“Morning,” she mutters, immediately making her way to the coffee pot. She steals a pancake on her way, eating it with her hands.

“There’s something called a plate, you know?” he snides as she gives him the finger.

“This one’s burnt,” she says with a slight gag. Steve hears Julie snicker and decides to let it go.

“I called out of work.”

Robin groans. “You’re leaving me alone with Keith, Steven. Keith. He is going to stand there and watch a movie that is not appropriate for the children coming in today while eating a bag of neverending Cheetos, getting his dust all over himself and the movies, while trying to hit on me as much as he can.”

“I told you if he’s given you a problem I’ll talk to him.”

She rolls her eyes. “And get both of us fired, no thanks.”

“Or finally annoy him enough to quit.”

Robin snorts while grabbing another pancake. “Like he’ll give up his neverending movie powers.”

The front door rattles before it slams into the wall and then shuts again. “Steve,” Eddie yells into the hallway, finding his way to the kitchen. “Oh good, you’re not dead.”

“The hell did you tell him last night?”

“That you had a migraine so we canceled movie night. I said you didn’t have to come over, dumbass.”

Eddie walks up to Steve and grabs his head. “I had to make sure that this pretty little head was ok,” he says mockingly while squishing his cheeks. “Lord knows he’s hit it enough to be concerning. Ooh, pancakes.”

He reaches over and grabs a pancake, eating it with his hands like Robin. “You both know where the plates are.”

“Why dirty a dish when I have two perfectly good hands?” It’s at this moment when Eddie finally sees Julie sitting at the island, looking way too interested in this whole interaction. “Lawson?”

“Hey, Eddie,” Julie says, slightly confused. “How’ve you been?”

Steve can see Eddie visibly trying to connect the dots. “Pretty good considering … everything. I’m sorry, what are you doing here?��

“You know Julie?” Robin asks, eating the last pancake.

“Yeah lived down the street from me back when I lived in the trailer. How do you two know her?”

Steve glances over at Julie and sees her tense up at the question. He would feel wrong about telling someone about this without her permission, even if it is his secret now too. She looks at him and he tries to motion with his head over to Eddie as some form of a question. But when she gives him a confused glare that makes him feel like an idiot, he gives up.

He decides it’s probably better to tell him. Eddie is someone who knows how to keep a secret, and Steve trusts him. So he can know. But he definitely needs to have a conversation with Julie about how and who they want to tell about this in the future.

If they decide to try and become some sort of friends, maybe family, that is.

“Can I talk to you?” Steve asks standing up and ushering Eddie out of the room.

“What the hell man? It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I just wanted to know why she’s here.”

Steve shuts the door to the side room behind them. “Yeah, that’s what I’m about to tell you.”

Eddie looks at him confused. “Is this something serious? I thought you just adopted another high schooler.”

“Not upside down serious, but yeah kinda.” Steve takes a breath, trying not to feel weird about the way Eddie’s looking at him right now. He doesn’t have time to feel weird about two things at once. “Full disclosure, I didn’t know who Julie was until yesterday. She came to the house and told me that her mom knew my dad. She used to be his secretary, they had an affair, and then came Julie.”

Eddie’s eyes are blown as wide as they can possibly be. “Holy shit. What the fuck? I need a second. Jesus Christ. How are you not freaking out more about this right now?”

“Who says I’m not?”

Eddie goes to sit on one of the chairs, Steve goes to take the one next to him. “You have a sister.”

“I have a sister.” Each time he says those words it becomes more of a fact than a surprise. “I have no idea what I’m doing, or how to do it. I’m trying to stay calm about everything but,” Steve takes another deep breath, still feeling like it isn’t quite enough. “My dad was a cheater, I’ve known that for a long time but this. This is a whole new angle of shit that I don’t know how to deal with.”

“How can you? Siblings don’t just come popping up out of nowhere, especially not as old as she is.” Eddie turns to look at him, tucking one of his legs underneath him. “Wayne heard about her mom from one of our old neighbors. Is that why she knows?”

Steve shakes his head. “Her mom told her sometime before the accident. She’s been in foster care ever since.”

“You have that look on your face,” Eddie says with a soft gaze.

“What look?”

“The look that you get when you want to help people. You want to help her.”

Steve leans back in the chair. “I do. She looked so scared when I offered to drive her back to her foster home last night. Said she didn’t like it there.”

“I was placed in foster care once before Wayne officially took me in,” Eddie admits, playing with a loose thread on his jeans. “It wasn’t the greatest. From what I’ve heard, most of the placements are pretty good, but there are some people out there who are just in it for the money and can be giant pieces of shit. I’m not saying that she’s in one of those homes, but I’m not saying she isn’t either. What I can say, is that she’s probably missing her mom a hell of a lot right now. They were really close from what I could tell, and losing someone like that hurts, a lot.”

Steve remembers Eddie mentioning once that his mom died when he was little. He never brought it up again and neither did Steve, not wanting to linger on tough topics. But even though it was so long ago, the pain is still there in his voice, just slightly. But Steve still notices it.

He reaches across, placing his hand on top of Eddie’s. In a comforting way, not to mean anything. But Eddie still sighs a bit at the touch and turns his hand to hold Steve’s.

“Just be patient with her, ok. She’s a good kid. Be patient with yourself too. This might not be some big alternate dimension life-changing shit, but it’s still real. You’re allowed to let yourself feel whatever you’re feeling about this.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.”

“No, I’ve been spending too much time with you. Only way to know that you think about everyone else except for yourself. Promise me you’ll take a moment to think of yourself.”

Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand. “I’ll try.”

“Not a promise, but I’ll take it.”

He figures it’s probably been long enough that they’ve left Julie alone with Robin. Not like leaving her alone with him would be better, he still knows nothing about her. But when he reenters the kitchen, Eddie follows behind him, Robin’s not there.”

“Where’d Robin go?”

“To change,” Julie says with a shrug, picking at the last of her food.

Robin comes barreling down the stairs with her backpack, which she throws at Eddie while heading to the sink to fill her water bottle. “The fuck was that for?” Eddie asks with a wince.

“You two took too long talking, I’m late.” She downs the rest of her coffee and places her mug in the sink. “Come on, you’re taking me to work,” she shoves Eddie towards the door, not bothering to do it again when he doesn’t move that much.

“See ya, Julie.” Eddie heads for the door, throwing Robin’s backpack over his shoulder. Steve follows him. “She looks like you. I didn’t notice that before, but she does,” he whispers to Steve while Robin puts her shoes on.

Robin gasps. “Oh my god, she does.” She stands up and grabs her bag from Eddie. “Good luck, don’t scare her off, don’t be too awkward, and just talk to her like a normal person.”

“Thanks for the advice,” he deadpans.

“Love you, dingus. Bye.” She leaves the door open for Eddie on her way out.

Eddie stands with his hand on the doorknob before looking back at Steve. “Not to sound pushy or anything but, are we still on for later or not?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve shrugs. “Maybe, just not what we planned it to be.”

“Munson, move your ass,” Robin yells, hanging out of the passenger side car of the door.

“I’m coming, Jesus. Call me later ok. I don’t care if we have to cancel, you have other things going on right now.”

Steve nods. “I will, promise.”

Eddie smiles at him, making Steve’s stomach do a flip he’s still not quite used to. “That you promise to, huh? Talk to you later, Steve.”

. . .

Julie sits at the island, not quite sure why she’s still here. She’s still not exactly sure why she came here yesterday, not even fully believing the excuse she gave Steve. Sure he had a right to know that his dad had another kid. But maybe it would have been better to do it in a letter. That way he could decide if he wanted to find her, instead of her finding him.

It’s still weird to her, that Steve Harrington was her brother. She didn’t know much about him other than school rumors. By the time she got to high school, he had already stepped out of the popularity spotlight. She remembers hearing about the King who fell, but after seeing him in person around the people he seems to be friends with, that doesn’t look like it.

To be honest, everything she could have possibly known about him was shattered the moment Eddie Munson walked through the door. He was in her circle, not his. They would have never interacted in school. But now that she thinks about it, she remembers seeing Steve a few times at the trailer park visiting the Mayfeilds, especially around spring break. Maybe they got to know each other then.

A part of her wants to leave, get the burden of her off of his plate. He didn’t have to know her just because they were related, neither did she. That wasn’t her plan. The plan, no matter how little she actually thought about it, was to find him, tell him, and leave. But then he had to offer to let her stay the night.

Normally, she wouldn’t have taken it, but it was too good to give up. There was someone else in the house so it wasn’t just the two of them, and it gave her an excuse to stay away from that hell house as long as possible. And he seemed like a good person, he was nothing but nice to her so far. But nice was sometimes a facade, so she kept her guard up.

But if Eddie Munson was his friend, maybe Julie could afford to let her guard down a little. Just a little bit.

Steve walks back into the kitchen after walking Robin and Eddie out. “Are you done with that?” he asks, pointing to the plate in front of her. There’s a half-eaten pancake on it, even though she only grabbed two. He doesn’t say anything about it, though.

“Oh, yeah, thanks.” She slides the plate forward and he takes it away, putting it with his own in the sink.

How is she even going to go about this, getting to know him? She hates getting to know new people. Just stating the same five facts over and over again until maybe there was a similarity between them and that’s it. Is she just going to share her favorite color and leave?

Something about her doesn’t want to. Something wants to stay and try to find some sort of connection with Steve. Whether that be acquaintances or otherwise. He’s the only family she has left, and something about that fact makes her never want to leave.

“So,” Steve starts slowly, leaning on the island. “I’m going to be honest, I’m not exactly sure where to start.”

“Me neither,” She admits, anxiously picking at her thumb. It’s a nervous habit she’s never seemed to break, sometimes picking at it enough for them to bleed. Her mom always tried to stop her but it never worked.

Uncomfortable silence hangs in the air for what feels like forever, but is probably just a minute, maybe two. “Eddie said you lived down the street from him,” Steve says, breaking their silence.

“Yeah, across the street and two doors down.” She tries to think of what to say, as if it has to have any meaning behind it. But maybe if they just get talking, that’s all that matters. “We didn’t talk much, just a few times at potlucks and things. But when I first got to high school, he showed me around, drove me when I missed the bus and didn’t want to walk home.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah that sounds like him. Surprised he didn’t try to ‘bring you into his flock’ or whatever he calls them.”

“He might have, but DND isn’t really my thing. I like writing my own stories, not playing in someone else’s.”

“You like to write,” Steve asks, walking around to sit on one of the chairs, turning to face her.

Julie nods, bringing one of her legs up so she can sit on it to face him better. “Short stories, sometimes poetry, but I’m not great at making things rhyme. It’s fun.”

“That’s cool, I’ve never been good at writing like that. Or at all.”

“What were you good at? Or are, I guess.”

Slight shock quickly covers his face, like he’s surprised that she asked him a question about himself. “I used to play basketball in high school, and I was on the swim team. I was decent at best, but I liked it. One of the kids I babysit started playing basketball last year, so I’ve been playing with him sometimes. Kinda forgot how much I liked it until then.”

“You babysit, like look over other people’s kids?” She didn’t pin him as the babysitting type.

“Well, I say babysit but it’s not really babysitting. Like, they’re old enough to take care of themselves and everything, but we’ve been through some stuff together so I like to keep an eye on them. They’re kinda like the family I wished I had.”

The family he wishes he had, said like he barely had a family at all. She thinks back to the lack of family pictures in the house. With all of this wall space, it’s weird for them to be left blank when they could be filled. Poster families are supposed to have posters showing off how good they are. But the walls, the house, stay vacant. And the way Steve talks about these kids, it seems to have been like that for a long time.

Giant houses are nice, but empty all they do is sit there and show off the wrong type of wealth. Loneliness almost seeps through the walls when she notices the lack of life. Nothing to give it character, the only person leaving traces behind is Steve.

Last night she was jealous that Steve could live in such a big house when she lived in a trailer. But she’d take that over and over again if it meant she wouldn’t be alone.

“You must love them,” Julie finally says.

Steve smiles, it’s probably the first time she’s seen it and it wasn’t fake. “As much as they annoy the hell out of me, I do.”

“Robin seemed nice.” He seems to talk more when it’s about other people, so she changes the topic to her. “You guys seem close.”

“We are. And before you ask if we’re dating, we’re not.”

“I was questioning that a little, but I thought it would be rude to ask.”

He shrugs. “People ask me it pretty much every day. One particular person specifically. You can ask me anything though, I’m pretty much an open book.”

Before she gets the chance to think of something else, someone knocks on the front door. Steve looks both confused and annoyed before he gets up to go see who it is. She hears them talking for a minute or two before Steve walks back into the room with a sorry expression, a man in a police uniform behind him.

“Julie, this is Chief Hopper.”

“I’m here to take you back, kid,” Hopper interrupts.

Coldness fills Julie up as she thinks about that place. Loud noises through thin walls, insults being thrown around, two kids she doesn’t know that she has to take care of. Just so Janice and Mark can get drunk off their asses from the pay and never lift a finger for anything about them. It’s only a matter of time before things get worse, she can tell. It’s the same behavior she’s seen with every boyfriend her mom has ever had.

“I-I don’t want to.”

Hopper steps toward her and takes off his hat, placing it on the island. “I’m sure you don’t. But they are your guardians for the time being and called you in as a missing kid, so you have to go back.”

She looks over at Steve but is met with just a silent apology. That he’s giving up. She really shouldn’t be mad but she is. He let her stay because she said she didn’t like it there, and now he’s just willing to let her go back. Without a word to try and stop it.

Getting up from the chair, making it squeak against the floor that is probably way too fucking expensive, she heads upstairs to grab her things. Feet stomping on the stairs like they have a mind of their own. She’s not even sure where the anger she feels is directed. But she can’t help to think it’s at herself for thinking she might actually be able to have some sort of family again.

. . .

When Julie leaves the room, Steve is just left there defeated. He tried to say something, but Hopper said there was no way out of it. She spent the night away from her foster house and they called it in, she had to go back.

“Can you explain to me why she’s here?” Hopper asks acusingly.

“They’d have to have told you if you knew to find her here.”

Hopper looks at the ceiling with a deep sigh. “Just told me she’d probably be here, not why. You’re not in any trouble, I know you wouldn’t try anything. So can you just please tell me why you have a random sixteen-year-old girl in your house.”

“She’s my sister,” Steve sighs. “My dad had an affair with her mom and then he paid her to keep it quiet. Julie told me everything last night.”

“Well, shit. That’s, something.”

Steve scoffs. “Yeah. Is there really no way she can stay here, even if it’s just for the rest of the day.”

“Look kid,” Hopper sighs. “I know you like to help the kids, but this is a lot different than that. Those parents trust you to look after them because they know you, these people don’t. And I’m not so sure they ever will. The fact is that you just learned about all of this yesterday and jumped into everything headfirst. Take some time, think about it.”

“I can’t just go around and pretend that none of this happened. I want to get to know her, Hop.”

“And I never said that you couldn’t. Just no more overnight stays and make sure she gets back by curfew. Don’t make me have to come back here again.”

Julie slams the door of the guest room before she comes back downstairs. Hopper gives Steve a sympathetic look before picking his hat back up and heading to the front door, Steve following after.

“Julie, I’m sorry, I tried-,” Steve tries to explain.

“Just save it, I know.” She looks at him with a cold glare that only fills him with shame. “Nice meeting you, Steve.”

Hopper opens the door, letting Julie go out first. “Good luck with that,” he says before shutting the door behind him.

. . .

October 1986, Two Weeks Prior

When Julie wakes up, her mom’s not there. Not like that’s unusual, sometimes she works early morning shifts at the diner before heading to her secretary job. She normally tells her about that, but last night she said nothing. Or maybe she did in her rush out the door to her late-night shift.

Why would she work a late night and an early morning though? She’s never done it before. And considering the tips are shit and the pay is worse, she wouldn’t put herself through that. So where is she?

Julie checked around the trailer again, making sure the cot was still in the living room and that no one was in the bathroom. Checks outside to see if her mom’s car was there, and around back to make sure it wasn’t there either. Not a trace of her mother to be found anywhere.

Going back into the house, she dials the number of the diner to check if her mom’s there. One waiter answers, saying he hasn’t seen her all morning.

Worry fills Julie, this isn’t like her mom. Not anymore. She doesn’t go out at night anymore. Promising Julie that she wouldn’t. Her mom had broken a few promises in the past, but this was not one that she would.

At least that’s what Julie hopes.

An hour later, her mom is still nowhere to be seen. She calls the office she works at to see if she showed up for her shift, nothing. As she’s dialing 911 to see if they can go around different bars to try and find her, she hears a car pulling up in front of her trailer. Followed by two doors slamming shut.

Her heart is beating out of her chest as she goes to answer the door when they knock, opening to find two police officers waiting there with solemn looks on their faces.

“Hello, miss. My name is Officer Powell and this is Officer Callahan. Are you Julie Lawson, Rebecca Lawson’s daughter.?”

“Yes,” she responds with a shaky voice.

Powell and Callahan share a glance before turning back to her. “Could we come in, we have some unfortunate news about your mom.”

Her heart drops as she lets them in, already planning to hear the worst.

“You might want to sit down for this,” Callahan says, pulling over one of the kitchen chairs to sit in, making himself at home.

“Last night, police were called to a motor vehicle accident scene over on Oak Street. A driver ran off the road and hit a tree. They identified her as your mom. She was rushed to the hospital, but as of this morning, we are sorry to say she passed.”

Tears flood Julie’s eyes as she tries to blink them back, but can’t. They fall down her face as her mind races to catch up to reality. The room blurs and she can’t hear anything over the beating of her own heart. She feels as if her soul has left her body, watching her from the outside instead of in.

“We are so sorry, Julie,” Powell continues. “We have no idea how you must be feeling right now, but if you would like to talk to a counselor about this, we can help arrange that for you.”

Julie gapes, trying to say something but nothing will come out. She shuts her mouth and swallows, trying to calm herself down enough to say something. “What, what will happen to me?” she asks with a trembling voice.

“You’ll be placed in child protective services, they’ll try and find some family for you to stay with or find you a foster home,” Callahan explains.

“We know that this is a lot for you to take in right now. But we need you to go and pack a bag. You can come back in a few days to get the rest of your things, but you need to come with us. We’ll give you some space while you pack, take as long as you need.”

“Just not too long,” Callahan interrupts.

“Phil,” Powell sighs, glaring at him. “Don’t listen to him, take as long as you need and meet us outside when you're ready.”

Powell stands, pulling Callahan up and ushering him out of the door. He shuts it gently behind him and Julie can hear him chastizing Callahan behind it.

Julie leans back on the couch, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, attempting not to break just there. But she does. Tears stream down her face as her breaths become labored and shaky. Her hand comes to cover her mouth as she sobs, covering up her pain.

Her mom is gone. The only family, the only life she’s ever known. The person who was there for her no matter what. The person who knows her better than anyone else in the entire world. Taken from her without warning.

And now Julie is left alone.

Part 3

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17, @i-amthepizzaman

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #julie lawson #original female character #secret sibling au #fic #steddie fic #stranger things fic #steve harrington and julie lawson are siblings #steve's dad is a raging piece of shit #cw implied child abuse #tw implied child abuse #minor character death #tw grief #cw grief

42 notes · View notes