#♔ ⋮ 𝙰𝙻𝚆𝙰𝚈𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝙾𝙳𝙳𝙰𝙼𝙽 𝙱𝙰𝙱𝚈𝚂𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁. ━━ interactions.

[recoveringjock]

@starskatr   𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅:   “ 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭…   𝘺𝘰𝘶   𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸…   𝘐   𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥   𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦   𝘩𝘪𝘮   𝘰𝘶𝘵. ”

           max   is   probably   the   bravest   person   steve   knows   —   and   right   now,   also   one   of   the   stupidest.   forget   the   logistics   of   a   fifteen-year-old   going   mano   a   mano   with   an   interdimensional   freddy   krueger,   there's   no   way   in   hell   steve   would   ever   willingly   let   max   near   that   freak.   he's   spent   the   better   half   of   the   year   trying   to   protect   her   and   the   rest   of   the   twerps   when   he   could've   been   out   romancing   a   pretty   girl   or   taking   up   badminton   or   something,   and   it'll   all   be   for   nothing   if   she   delivers   herself   to   vecna   on   a   silver   platter.   "   yeah,   great   idea.   let's   bench   the   girl   with   the   superpowers   and   send   you   in.   you   can   beat   him   to   death   with   your   skateboard.   "   steve   snorts,   shaking   his   head   and   ensuring   she's   buckled   in   before   the   car   starts   moving.   sometimes   he   thinks   he's   the   only   sensible   one   among   this   group   of   traumatized   pre-adults   and   children.   "   that   was   sarcasm,   by   the   way,   in   case   my   tone   didn't   get   that   across.   if   you   think   i'm   sending   you   to   your   death   just   like   that,   after   all   the   shit   we've   gone   through   to   keep   you   safe,   you're   out   of   your   goddamn   mind.   just   sit   tight   and   enjoy   your   damn   ice   cream.   "

[recoveringjock]

                                  [ @starskatr ]

           how   steve   found   himself   on   permanent   carpool   duty,   he's   not   sure.   he   offered   to   pick   max   up   from   school   once   a   couple   of   months   ago   and   he's   been   doing   it   pretty   much   every   day   since   (   the   other   squirts   asked   to   join   '   for   efficiency   purposes,   '      to   which   steve   let   them   know   that   they'll   be   just   fine   riding   the   damn   bus   ).   "   how   was   school?   ms.   bishop   still   giving   you   trouble?   "   he   eyes   the   redhead   in   the   passenger   seat,   scrutinizing   her   facial   expression   to   see   if   he   can   detect   any   signs   of   discontent.   max's   happiness   is   a   priority   of   steve's   these   days,   and   he's   found   himself   becoming   hyper   vigilant   of   any   abnormalities   in   her   behavior.   "   what'd   you   have   for   lunch?   and   don't   tell   me   you're   eating   any   of   that   cafeteria   gruel.   i   wouldn't   feed   that   shit   to   a   pig's   pig.   "

[recoveringjock]

@munsontm​​   liked   for   a   lyric   one-liner!   (   accepting.   )

            “   so,   where   do   we   stand?   ”

[recoveringjock]

@atehorror​​   liked   for   a   lyric   one-liner!   (   accepting.   )

            “   lately   i’ve   been   thinking   that   i   wanna   buy   a   fast   car.   ”​

[recoveringjock]

@starskatr​   liked   for   a   lyric   one-liner!   (   accepting.   )

           “   it   hurts   for   me   to   think   about   what   life   could   possibly   be   like   without   you.   ”

[recoveringjock]

@murkyhazed​   𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅:   "   𝒉𝒆𝒚   𝒎𝒂𝒏...    𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕   𝒘𝒂𝒔𝒏'𝒕   𝒄𝒐𝒐𝒍   𝒐𝒇   𝒉𝒊𝒎.   𝒅𝒐   𝒚𝒐𝒖...   𝒏𝒆𝒆𝒅   𝒂   𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒈𝒆   𝒐𝒓   𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈   𝒇𝒐𝒓   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒆?   𝒊   𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘   𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕   𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒆𝒔   𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎   𝒕𝒉𝒆   𝒈𝒚𝒎   𝒇𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒓   𝒂𝒓𝒆   𝒏𝒐   𝒇𝒖𝒏.   "

            of   all   the   people   who   could   be   helping   him   right   now,   jonathan   isn't   the   name   he   would've   been   betting   on.   the   pre-nancy   old   steve   would've   denied   his   help,   maybe   even   tossed   in   an   insult   for   good   measure   (   only   to   sit   in   his   room   later   that   night   and   dwell   on   the   guilt   he'd   feel   ).   the   steve   he   is   today   takes   jonathan's   hand   and   thanks   him   for   helping   him   up.   sure,   he's   still   harboring   a   ton   of   unresolved   feelings   for   the   guy's   girlfriend,   but   he's   not   going   to   be   a   dick   to   him   about   it.   not   ever   again.   through   all   of   their   mutual   toil,   steve's   found   a   great   deal   of   respect   for   jonathan   ––   that   part   of   his   brain   that   had   conditioned   him   to   see   the   elder   byers   as   nothing   but   a   freak   has   long   since   been   quieted.   if   he's   not   right   for   nancy,   at   least   he   knows   someone   who   really   cares   about   her   is   around.   maybe   they   can   even   bond   over   the   insurmountable   evidence   that   this   new   kid   is   a   total   fucking   douche   ––   it's   a   goddamn   highschool   scrimmage,   what   kind   of   asshole   actually   gets   violent   during   these?   "   uh,   no.   no,   should   be   fine.   i've   had   worse,   "   a   dry   chuckle   passes   between   the   pair   of   them   as   steve   recalls   the   worse   at   the   hands   of   the   person   helping   him   now.   "   let's   just   ––   this   might   be   weird,   but   can   we   just   get   the   hell   out   of   here?   it   smells   like   sweat   and   i   don't   feel   like   playing   basketball   with   goliath   over   there.   "

[recoveringjock]

                                [ @punkavior ]

           "   i   don't   know   why   people   call   you   a   freak,   munson.   you're   a   goddamn   genius!   "   so   steve   may   be   a   little   drunk   and   eddie's   plan   sounds   a   lot   better   to   him   now   then   when   he   pitched   it   while   he   was   sober.   unbeknownst   to   many,   steve's   a   lightweight.   most   of   the   time   he'd   fake   being   inebriated   while   at   parties,   opting   to   shotgun   one   beer   in   the   public   eye   to   keep   up   his   image.   he's   always   hated   the   taste   of   alcohol,   but   most   of   all   he   can't   stand   the   following   day's   hangover.   today,   he'd   decided   to   say   fuck   it   and   deal   with   the   consequences   later.   future   steve   can   curse   him   out   all   he   wants,   tonight   present   steve   is   gonna   have   a   good   damn   time.   "   let's   do   it.   "

[recoveringjock]

                              [ @munsontm​ ]

            is   it   weird   for   a   grown   man   to   have   training   wheels?   steve's   seriously   considering   investing   in   them   after   his   latest   spill.   his   car's   in   the   shop   so   he's   stuck   with   this   stupid   bike   that   he   never   even   fully   learned   how   to   ride.   the   plan   was   to   stop   by   the   corner   store   and   pick   up   some   snacks;   he   figured   taking   this   piece   of   shit   out   would   be   easier   than   walking   the   three   miles.   after   all,   how   hard   could   riding   a   bike   be?   as   it   turns   out,   very.   all   it   took   was   misjudging   a   sharp   turn   and   bam   —   he's   fucking   eating   shit.   small,   jagged   chunks   of   gravel   fall   from   the   indents   in   his   forehead   as   he   stands   up,   blood   dripping   down   his   chin   onto   his   sweater   —   that   he   just   put   through   the   wash,   by   the   way.   "   well,   that   could've   been   worse.   "   steve   mumbles   —   a   bad   decision   being   that   now   he's   got   the   distinct   taste   of   copper   in   his   mouth.   he   leaves   his   bike   in   a   mess   of   dirt   and   blood   on   the   side   of   the   road,   stumbling   towards   the   closest   familiar   area.   somehow,   he   ends   up   on   eddie   munson's   doorstep   —   delirious   from   pain   and   bleeding   profusely.   if   there's   one   thing   about   steve   harrington,   it's   that   he   knows   how   to   make   a   goddamn   entrance.   "   hey,   man.   you   have   any   bandaids   or   anything?   "

[recoveringjock]

                               [ @slainmetal​​ ]

           paying   attention   has   never   been   steve's   strong   suit.   at   school,   work,   parties   —   his   mind   is   always   going   a   million   miles   a   minute,   covering   a   trillion   different   topics.   there's   just   so   much   to   think   about   —   how   is   he   supposed   to   pay   attention   to   the   quadratic   formula   when   he   just   figured   out   that   monotony   isn't   actually   pronnounced   mono-tony   (   the   confused   looks   on   tony   s.,   tony   m.,   and   tony   f.'s   faces   when   he   addressed   them   as   such   make   so   much   more   sense   now   )?   unfortunately,   his   first   dnd   session   is   no   different.   he's   trying   to   keep   up,   but   goddamn   there   are   so   many   fuckin'   rules!   "   wait   —   so   who's   the   dragon?   and   where's   the   dungeon?   isn't   that   the   whole   point   of   this   thing?   "   his   brow   is   furrowed,   concentration   lines   etched   uselessly   into   his   forehead.   he's   really   trying   not   to   cater   to   the   whole   dumb   jock   stereotype,   but   not   a   single   sentence   of   eddie's   explanations   are   sticking   in   his   head.   up   until   recently,   he'd   assumed   this   was   just   a   game   for   children   —   mainly   because   the   only   people   he   knew   who   played   it   were   dustin   and   the   rest   of   the   sour   patch   kids.   speaking   of   the   bane   of   his   existence,   the   whole   reason   steve's   decided   to   try   to   learn   this   game   is   to   surprise   dustin   for   his   birthday,   but   he's   starting   to   think   he   should   just   get   him   a   card   or   some   decent   hair   products   or   something.   "   shit,   what   are   the   dice   for   again?   they   tell   you   how   many   steps   you   move   forward?   "   steve's   experience   with   board   games   is   limited   to   a   few   monopoly   sessions   at   family   reunions   and   he's   struggling   to   find   any   similarities   with   what   he   sees   on   the   table   in   front   of   him.   no   bright,   colorful   money,   no   get   out   of   jail   free   cards,   no   passing   go,   no   collecting   two-hundred   dollars.   and,   apparently,   no   dungeons   or   dragons.   they   should   really   consider   re-branding.   "   and   you   do   this   every   week?   "

[recoveringjock]

@munsontm​​   𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅:   ❝    𝒉𝒆𝒚—    𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌   𝒂𝒕   𝒎𝒆.    𝒘𝒉𝒚   𝒂𝒓𝒆   𝒚𝒐𝒖   𝒂𝒍𝒍   𝒖𝒑𝒔𝒆𝒕?    ❞

            it's   one   of   those   rare   days   where   steve   lets   it   all   come   down   crashing   around   him.   normally,   he's   partial   to   the   totally   effective   method   of   bottling   up   his   emotions,   but   this   time   he   just   isn't   able   to   hold   it   in.   he   couldn't   have   picked   a   worse   time   to   decide   to   come   undone   —   sitting   with   eddie   munson   in   his   trailer   just   hanging   out.   it   started   this   morning   —   three   fifty-three   a.m.,   to   be   exact   —   when   steve   woke   up   in   a   cold   sweat,   bolting   upright   with   a   scream   that   made   his   throat   sore,   still   feeling   the   effects   of   paranoia   from   his   latest   night   terror.   it   took   him   hours   of   pacing   and   self-soothing   to   calm   down   enough   to   go   downstairs   and   grab   himself   a   cup   of   water.   since   then,   everything's   been   sorta   off.   he   thought   he   could   hold   it   together,   that   being   with   eddie   might   be   a   good   distraction   —   but   he   just   keeps   picturing   that   portal   opening   up   every   time   he   glances   at   the   bare   ceiling.   he   remembers   the   feeling   of   something   not   of   this   world   gnawing   on   his   skin   like   he   was   a   goddamn   piece   of   candy.   and   suddenly   he's   on   the   verge   of   hyperventillating.   steve   follows   eddie's   directions,   trying   to   regulate   his   breathing   as   he   meets   the   other   boy's   eyes.   "   i   just   —   i   can't   stop   thinking   about   it,   man.   about   vecna   and   the   upside-down   and   all   that   shit.   it's   always   there.   "

[recoveringjock]

@starskatr​   𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅:   “   𝒉𝒐𝒘   𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈   𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆   𝒊   𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏   𝒂𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑?   ”   

            steve   wishes   that   he   could   lie   to   max,   that   he   could   in   good   conscience   tell   her   it   was   just   a   day   or   two.   in   comparison,   two   weeks   seems   like   a   lot   of   life   to   miss   when   you're   fifteen.   she's   missed   her   exams,   two   of   lucas'   basketball   games   (   one   of   the   only   reasons   he's   left   the   hospital   since   max   has   been   admitted   ),   and   steve's   half-birthday   (   he   had   a   celebration   planned   and   everything   ).   and   they   missed   her.   two   weeks   is   a   hell   of   a   long   time   when   you   don't   know   if   your   friend   is   going   to   live   or   die.   they've   all   been   sitting   around   just   waiting   to   know   if   max   is   going   to   wake   up   or   not.   for   the   past   two   weeks,   they've   planned   their   lives   around   what   if's.   what   if   she   does   wake   up?   what   if   she   doesn't?   what   if   she   wakes   up   but   she's   different?   what   if   he   took   a   part   of   her?   "   two   weeks.   "   two   words   have   never   been   more   difficult   to   say,   and   so   they're   all   he   says   for   a   moment.   steve   clears   his   throat,   looking   into   max's   filmy   eyes   that   he   hopes   can   still   see   him.   "   you've   been   asleep   for   two   weeks.   but   you're   awake   now   and   that's   what   counts,   alright?   you   got   plenty   of   fight   left   in   you,   kid.   "

[recoveringjock]

@everlightblessing​​   𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅:   “   𝒄𝒂𝒏   𝒊   𝒂𝒔𝒌…   𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕   𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒅?   ”

           what   a   goddamn   loaded   question.   how   in   the   hell   is   steve   supposed   to   explain   to   his   best   friend's   crush   that   she's   crying   in   the   bathroom   because   of   her?   while   robin's   convinced   that   vickie's   straight,   steve's   not   so   sure   —   but   that's   a   delicate   thing   to   ask   someone   and   the   last   thing   he   wants   is   to   out   his   friend   on   the   off-chance   vickie's   strictly-dickly.   he   absently   runs   a   hand   through   his   hair   as   his   brain   tries �� to   formulate   a   convincing   sentence.   "   uh,   yeah.   yeah,   i'm   sure   she   doesn't   mind   me   telling   you   [   ...   ]   "   what's   something   simple,   but   believable?   an   easy   white   lie   that   won't   be   too   difficult   for   robin   to   dodge   later   on?   "   her   dad   died.   "   shit.   he   has   no   idea   why   that   lie,   of   all   things,   came   out   of   his   mouth,   and   now   he   has   no   choice   but   to   roll   with   it.   "   yeah.   totally   kicked   the   bucket.   today,   actually.   super   sad   stuff.   so   i   think   she,   uh,   just   needs   a   minute   or   something.   "

[recoveringjock]

@everlightblessing​​   𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅:   “   𝒘𝒉𝒚   𝒅𝒊𝒅   𝒚𝒐𝒖   𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒑   𝒎𝒆?   ”

           the   question   is   answered   with   a   due   amount   of   soul-searching.   why   did   steve   help   chrissy?   is   it   some   kind   of   unspoken   camaraderie   amongst   two   of   hawkins   high's   finest?   is   it   because   he   sees   jason   in   a   similar   light   to   tommy   (   same   douche,   different   font   )?   or   can   it   all   just   be   summed   up   as   steve   doing   a   nice   thing   for   someone   he   barely   knows?   an   idle   hand   runs   through   his   hair,   a   soft   look   of   contemplation   etched   into   his   features.   steve's   done   his   fair   share   of   self-reflection   as   of   late,   and   simple   questions   like   these   can   very   easily   send   him   straight   back   to   the   age   old   internal   debate   —   is   he   good   because   he's   just   good,   or   is   he   good   because   that's   what   he   thinks   everyone   else   wants   him   to   be?   are   his   actions   driven   by   true   compassion,   or   is   the   purpose   something   more   self-serving?   the   silence   that   has   settled   like   a   cloak   around   the   two   of   them   offers   no   answers   —   no   different   from   the   quietness   of   nights   spent   in   solitude,   yielding   the   exact   same   results.   "   i   don't   know.   he   looked   stupid   drunk   and   you   looked   [   ...   ]   uncomfortable.   figured   you   might   want   to   be   someplace   quiet.   honestly,   i   was   ready   to   get   out   of   there   anyway.   "   it's   about   as   much   truth   as   his   conscious   mind   is   able   to   process   at   the   moment.   "   you   okay?   "

[recoveringjock]

@intersticemortem​   liked   for   a   lyric   one-liner!   (   accepting.   )

            “   don’t   take   this   personal,   but   you’re   the   worst.   ”

[recoveringjock]

@munsontm​ 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅: ❛ 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅, 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒅. ❜

            "   why   do   you   always   have   to   say   dark   shit   like   that   while   i'm   eating?   "   steve   lowers   the   slice   of   pizza   he'd   been   coaxing   into   his   mouth,   much   to   the   chagrin   of   his   gurgling   stomach.   on   top   of   ruining   his   appetite,   steve   disagrees   with   eddie's   statement   wholeheartedly.   if   there's   one   thing   he's   learned   through   all   of   this   shit,   it's   that   love   is   worth   it.   it's   worth   all   the   heartbreak   and   pain   and   uncertainty.   it's   worth   it   if   it   can   bring   you   even   a   glimmer   of   hope   for   a   brief   period   of   time.   steve's   lived   through   his   fair   share   of   nightmare   fuel,   and   the   only   tactic   to   help   him   get   through   it   —   besides   the   innevitable   brute   strength   —   is �� to   fight   fire   with   love.   his   love   for   the   party,   for   robin,   for   nancy,   for   them   all   —   its   what's   guided   all   of   his   actions.   its   what's   kept   them   all   safe.   he   doesn't   blame   eddie   for   his   morbidity,   especially   considering   his   circumstances,   but   that   doesn't   mean   he   won't   try   to   change   his   mind.   "   also,   that's   the   biggest   load   of   bullshit   ever.   and   this   is   coming   from   the   guy   that   got   his   heart   stomped   on,   crushed,   and   pummeled   into   a   million   pieces.   why   do   you   want   people   to   be   scared   of   you,   anyway?   how   well   has   that   been   working   out   for   you?   "

[recoveringjock]

@gareththegreat​   𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅:  ❛   𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕'𝒔   𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓   𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆?  𝒐𝒉,   𝒊   𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕   𝒊𝒕   𝒘𝒂𝒔   𝒂   𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒌.   ❜

            steve's   having   the   dilemma   of   the   century,   to   put   it   lightly.   forget   secret   underground   lairs,   shitty   ice   cream   jobs,   getting   the   crap   kicked   out   of   him   every   other   sunday   and   murderous,   walking   venus   fly   traps   —   it's   already   halloween   and   he's   got   no   idea   which   costume   he   should   wear.   he's   stuck   in   between   going   as   a   greaser   —   suave,   sexy,   sure   to   get   all   the   ladies   —   or   jason   —   classic,   surefire   way   to   scare   the   shit   out   of   henderson   and   the   rest   of   the   twerps.   it's   the   ultimate   halloween   predicament   —   does   he   go   sexy   or   scary?   in   the   end,   he'd   decided   on   scary.   jason's   mask   is   the   perfect   accessory   to   keep   his   hair   immaculate,   and   once   he's   terrified   his   intended   targets,   he   can   just   take   it   off,   and   then   he's   just   a   guy   in   tattered   clothing.   scary   and   sexy.   the   only   thing   steve   hadn't   accounted   for   was   the   corroded   coffin   member   strolling   by   right   near   his   house   —   the   first   person   to   see   his   completed   costume,   minus   the   mask.   "   hilarious,   keefer.   if   that   rockstar   career   or   whatever   doesn't   work   out,   you've   got   a   real   shot   at   comedy.   "   steve's   already   heard   the   same   exact   insult   last   year   from   the   group   of   his   six   biggest   critics   (   mainly   dustin,   max   and   mike,   with   giggling   agreement   from   the   rest   )   —   so   it   only   hurts   a   little   bit.   "   what   the   hell   are   you   supposed   to   be,   anyway?   "