#post-starcourt

[devondespresso]

(found this bad boy in my drafts and honestly i loved reading it again so we're gonna post it. wahoo)

my personal canon for post-starcourt stobin is that they're actually inseparable for the first month or so

im talking steve taken to the hospital for his injuries and the staff having to force them apart and call security. im talking they have to drag robin kicking and screaming to a different room because last time Steve left her sight he was dragged back lifeless and presumably dead (i firmly believe they intentionally used physical torture for steve and to use his condition for psychological torture for robin)

and steve waking up half-present in a cold plain room alone? might as well be back in the bunker. and if theres doctors trying to run tests and examine his wounds? might as well be Russian soldiers standing over him and touching his injuries. hurting him again. possibly planning to hurt Robin next.

and now hospital staff are trying to deal with two screaming desperate teenagers who keep begging for the other in between rambles of nonsense and they can't run tests or do their jobs or even get answers from them because all these two seem to care about is the other teen

so they don't really have any practical choices other than moving them to a combined room. and they still freak out every now and then but having the other in the room keeps these outbursts much shorter and doctors are able to actually run tests and help these kids as long as they're close together. And when Robins blood tests and everything come back ok and shes able to be discharged, shes given special permission to stay in the room at all times

and the two little kids that came in with them? they're not exactly freaking out quite like the teens but they're certainly not making things easy either. Ericas testing the willpower of any doctor or nurse she can speak to and both kids stay as close as they can at all times and refuse to leave the hospital. visiting hours over? they're in the waiting room, even convinced a couple to move so they can have seats closest to the hall that teens room is in. try to call their parents? good luck getting a full name or number out of them. once their parents do come get them they're showing back up in an hour, bikes lodged in the bike rack and back in their seats. they've been stopped for sneaking in several times and caught hiding under one of the teens beds even more often. eventually staff just gets tired of spending half their shift wrangling two middle schoolers and it becomes an unspoken agreement to just ignore them hiding in the room.

And once Steve is discharged its the same thing all over again. Robins parents were worried about her spending all her time in the hospital with the boy from her summer job, but given the cover story about the fire and the pair getting trapped inside they convinced themselves its reasonable to want to stay by your friends side while they recover

but now that hes out, shes asking if she can spend the night at his house? and his parents won't be there? absolutely not. except robins in no mindset to accept leaving him alone for this long let alone overnight so she tried sneaking out to bike over to his before he can get the dumb idea to drive over in the middle of the night post-concussion. but the buckleys notice shes gone either because she makes too much noise sneaking out or they notice the severe lack of Robin-trying-to-be-quiet noises into the night (robin my tism queen definitely has bump-into-shit syndrome in the middle of the night but she also doesn't make any noise sneaking around the base with scoops troop so i think it's a 50/50 weather she can use the adrenaline to sneak out to see steve quietly)

so they put two and two together and drive over to the Harrington house. steve answers the door and calls robin over, both of them looking sheepish but not exactly guilty. they talk on steves couch (yes Steves there too) and stobin does their best to explain their separation anxiety that gets the severity across without getting them sent to a mental hospital all while making sure not to break any ndas (which ends up being a long conversation with stobin trying to translate their experience in the bunker to fit the cover story well enough, which is very different when the real story is kidnapping and the fake one is a building fire)

eventually they reach an understanding of "we're worried this is kinda unhealthy but its clearly more stressful to try and separate you right now and we're definitely not going to be able to stop you" so they compromise to let steve stay at the buckleys for a little bit so they can at least keep an eye on them. at first they try just letting steve sleep on the couch (which they agree to because steve worried about overstepping as the guest in their house) but one or both of them have nightmares the first night and robin ends up on the couch with him anyway.

after a few nights they get the gist of the stobin dynamic: attached so strongly its concerning but nothing... flirty. anything they do is always completely innocent. hand holding with no heart eyes, banter with no tension, hell even sharing a bed they resemble little kids in a sleepover pile more than lovers. and especially after nightmares they'll find robin holding steve like hes just one of her old teddy bears.

of course theyre still cautious and have their suspicions that theyre secretly dating and just really good at hiding it, they're paranoid parents after all and robins never shown this much attention to a boy ever. but they do relax a bit with it as they're more confident theres no... funny business.. going on. or at the very least nothing thats going to leave robin hurt. they'll have their talks and robin will promise its "nothing like that", but they've grown to like steve so they're sure robin will come to them when shes ready.

now if only there was a reasonable explanation for the middle schoolers that keep showing up. apparently they were also trapped in the fire with robin and steve which helps make some sense of it, but they also sat with them in the hospital. surely if they're having nightmares about the fire they'd go to their parents? they hadn't really talked much with the sinclairs but they seemed like very loving parents and robin follows steve to his little dinners with mrs Henderson pretty often so its not likely that they can't go to their parents about nightmares, but they seem to prefer going to steve specifically. like ringing the Buckley's doorbell at 1 in the morning asking if steves there. and of course they'll let them in and show them to robins room (after calling their parents first, do they even know their childs run off?) where steve was sleeping in a pallet on the floor but is now a glorified blanket pile robins hugging. on her bed, of course. because god forbid theres 2 feet of space between them.

and the kid just joins them in their sleepover pile, dustin usually clinging to steves other side like a baby koala and erica usually finding a spot leaning against robin or occasionally making room in between them

and so more often than not the Buckley's have not one, not two, but three extra children in their house that isn't their daughter, all of them sleeping in a pile on robins bed like theres nowhere else they'd rather be

[elowmojo]

Billy Hargrove 1986 VENICE BEACH CALIFORNIA Photo ref

[metalhoops]

Steve’s party trick was appearing sober long past the point of inebriation. 

It was an act he’d perfected through observation. He’d watched his mother down wine like water and waltz into a garden party looking sober as a saint. So when everything went down at the Starcourt Mall, with the drugs and the appearance of another burgeoning concussion-induced migraine fogging the edges of his vision, he’d pushed through with professional tact. 

Steve couldn’t explain how it happened. One moment he was sitting on the kitchen counter, cradling a bag of frozen peas to his bare face, freezer burn nipping at the edges of his consciousness, and the next he was sprawled out on the carpet of a stranger’s house. 

What happened in between, he’d never know. 

Maybe it was for the best. Ignorance was bliss, in Steve’s opinion. His life was so much easier before the Upside Down. He would’ve been a worse person and lived a worse life. Yet his life would’ve been close to normal, not the mercurial mess it’d become.  He wouldn’t have spent the night locked in a secret underground soviet bunker, his face doubling as a punching bag for a man he didn’t know, while monsters roamed about the town. 

The mall had burned down, Steve remembered. After all was said and done, Mrs Byers dropped him and Robin off at their respective homes. Steve insisted he didn’t need to go to the hospital, that he was fine and, more importantly, that his parents were home. When Robin sobered up, she’d realise Steve had lied.

He’d told Robin a lot of things, and after the night in the mall, so had she. She knew Steve’s parents had been out of town for months, but she’d been flying too high to use any of her admittedly brilliant brain to put two and two together. Steve loved Robin. He loved her differently after that night, but he still loved her. He was human. He needed time to lick his wounds and some space. The quiet of the Harrington house had seemed like a blessing, so where the hell was he now?

“Hey, what did you take?” A vaguely familiar voice shook Steve from his stupor. 

He rolled away from the sound, burying his face in the carpet. He cringed as a  spark of pain shot through the veiled numbness that’d inhabited his body since the Russian drugs had hijacked his system. 

“Ouch,” Steve grumbled miserably. 

His head throbbed. One eye was entirely swollen shut. Even if Steve was sober, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to place the boy through his hazy vision. All he could make out were colours, pale skin, dark hair, and darker clothes. 

“I know. I know. You’ve got a real shiner, Harrington. Come on, up,” the boy instructed. 

Steve felt cool skin graze against the nape of his neck, pulling him up into a sitting position. Steve remained boneless, not making the task easy. 

He felt separate from his body, not sure where he ended and the rest of the world began. Once pulled up, he kept falling forward, his face making contact with the dark fabric of the boy’s shirt. The boy was more comfortable than the floor, with less carpet burn and more smooth leather. He smelled of smoke, sweat and an earthy kind of cologne that hadn’t been refreshed in hours.

“Elevator up,” Steve chuckled, laughing too hard for his own good. 

His ribs ached. He felt a laugh shudder through the boy’s body as he pulled Steve back, trying to get a better look at him. He held a finger in front of Steve’s face. 

“Not sure what this is meant to do but I’ve seen it in movies,” the boy commented as he moved his finger right to left, inspecting Steve’s face for something, neither boy was quite sure of. 

“Alright. You’ve gotta know I’m the least likely person to narc on you, Harrington. What did you take? Special K? Some Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds? Were you Chasing the Dragon? Gotta be something stronger than weed, man,” the boy insisted. 

Steve screwed up his nose and moved away from the man. 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Steve complained, trying to untangle the string of words the guy had thrown his way. 

Steve staggered to his feet, swaying before propping himself up, leaning against the wall, and feeling the whole thing tilt under his weight. 

“Dude, your walls are broken,” Steve muttered, as his legs gave out and he slid down to the floor. 

“We’re in a trailer, Steve,” the boy pointed out. Steve looked around the place, trying to make shapes from the blurs of colour and light. 

“Oh yeah,” He noted before resting his chin on his knee. 

The boy sat down in front of him, mirroring Steve’s posture, his chin resting on the bare knees of his ripped jeans. 

“Do you know what you took?” He pushed on, this time taking a different approach. 

“No,” Steve admitted, at last, sliding forward. 

The boy’s rings had caught his attention. They were little halos of light. He curiously tugged at his hand, pulling him close to examine the shine. He ran his fingers over the rise and fall of the rings. 

“Okay,” the dark-haired boy breathed, seemingly to himself. 

“I think you need to go to the hospital, dude.” 

“No hospitals,” Steve remarked eloquently as he returned to his previous position, face down on the carpet, taking the boy's hand with him. 

“Yeah well, I’m not so sure I like the idea of you sleeping either, Stevie,” He reasoned, his voice sounding strangled.   

“I’m tired,” Steve rebutted, his eyes sliding shut. 

There the boy was again, taking Steve’s face into his palm and pulling him up. For a moment, the vision in his good eye cleared enough to make out brown eyes painted with concern. 

“Look, I know we hated each other’s guts in high school but I don’t want you to O.D. on my carpet. It’s not good for the ambience,” the boy continued. 

Steve squinted, trying to place the face. Sure, he’d been a jerk in high school, particularly before his senior year, but he didn’t remember hating anyone. Not really. Maybe Jonathan, for a time, but that had passed. 

Munson. Steve’s brain supplied at last. The boy was Eddie Munson. He sold drugs and hung out on the fringes of Steve’s bigger parties back in the peak of his ‘King Steve’ era. 

“You hated me?” Steve asked, hearing the hurt in his voice before he realised what he was feeling. Eddie’s eyes widened in alarm, Steve’s face still in his palm. 

“What? No. I thought you hated me. I mean, you were a jock and I’ve got my whole ‘fuck the man shtick’, so it wasn’t like we ran in the same circles,” Eddie elaborated. 

“Jocks are ‘the man’?” Steve questioned. He’d like to blame the drugs, but he’d probably ask the question sober. 

“No. Yes. Kind of. Jocks are like... the grease for a cog in the wheel of the machine. All mass compliance to societal norms... or whatever.” 

Steve blinked owlishly at Eddie, trying to make a lick of sense out of what he’d said before resigning himself to the fact that he was completely lost. 

“I like Grease. It’s a cool movie,” he settled on, startling another laugh out of Eddie. He gently lowered Steve’s face onto the carpet and sighed. 

“Yeah, it’s a cool movie,” he muttered, leaving Steve for a moment, tossing sheets and a pillow from the sofa to the floor beside him. 

“Look, I’m going to stay up and make sure you don’t choke on your own tongue. You can stay here for the night, but I’m not letting you crash until my uncle gives you the thumbs up, weirdo.” 

Eddie slid a cushion beneath Steve’s head and draped the sheet over him. Steve was bone tired. He wanted nothing more than to sleep, but the pain in his body was growing by the moment and less favourable memories were leaking back into the forefront of his mind. He watched as Eddie placed a tape into the VCR and sat down beside Steve. It took him too long to realise the film was Grease. 

“Who’d you get into a fight with this time?” Eddie asked, seemingly aware of Steve’s sudden restlessness. 

Steve didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to. 

“Were the drugs before or after?” He pushed, searching for something Steve couldn’t work out.

Again, Steve didn’t know how to answer. Once more, Eddie let it slide. 

“You want me to call anyone? A girlfriend... or?” He doesn’t mention Steve’s parents. 

Maybe he was at more parties than Steve remembered, enough to know that the Harringtons being in Hawkins was rarer than a blue moon, less frequent than even Steve would admit to. 

“No,” Steve grumbled, starting to feel the swelling in his lip. 

Eddie nodded and let Steve have his silence. He half paid attention to the flashing lights on the screen, fading in and out of consciousness. Eddie would gently elbow his side each time Steve almost reached sleep. It was a long night, broken only by the opening of a door come sunrise. 

The light was too bright, too sudden. Steve shrunk from it curling into the closest point of dark comfort. Steve realised too late he’d curled himself into a small ball, tucking his face into the familiar darkness provided by Eddie’s crossed legs. 

“What in the Sam Hill have you gotten into, kid?” Steve heard a gruff voice ask in the doorway. Despite his words, the man didn’t sound angry, more amused. 

Steve felt Eddie pull the sheets up to hide his broken face from the light. 

“You know when I was fourteen, and I brought home that stray cat?” Eddie asked. 

Steve heard a door shutting and the scrape of a dining chair sliding against the linoleum. 

“The one that was sick as a dog?” The gruff voice replied. Probably Eddie’s uncle. 

“Same situation,” Eddie spoke.

“You’re telling me you found a kid wanderin’ round the trailer park at night and thought you’d bring him home? You remember what happened to that cat, right?” His uncle asked. 

“He went missing after a week. Then we found him half-kickin’ curled up in the back seat of the Johnsons’ cinder-blocked Austin,” Eddie muttered, stating the words as though it were a conversation Eddie and his uncle had before.  

“And you didn’t leave your room for a week.” 

“Your point, old man?” Eddie remarked.

“My point is, I love you, kid. But sometimes your bleeding heart is more trouble than it’s worth.” 

To Steve’s surprise, the sheet was pulled off his head. The next thing he knew he was face to face with Eddie’s uncle. The man shone a torch in Steve’s eyes, echoing Eddie’s movements, placing a finger in front of his eyes. Eddie watched in silence at Steve’s side. 

“He’s got a pretty bad concussion,” Eddie’s uncle supplied after a beat. 

“He was on something when I found him,” Eddie said. 

Steve was getting sick of people talking about him like he wasn’t there but in the same vein, he wanted to convalesce in peace. Eddie’s uncle shot him a sceptical look.

“Nothing I gave him, promise. He’s not letting me take him to the hospital.” 

“He’s right here,” Steve interjected.

He watched as Eddie’s uncle levelled him under his intense gaze. For the first time since he’d entered the room, he wasn’t seeing symptoms, or a problem Eddie had dropped in his lap but a boy. A kid, in Wayne’s eyes, one that looked worse for wear. It was the goddamn cat all over again. 

“I’m going to get you water and some aspirin. Eds, get some rest. No buts, kid you look like you haven’t slept a wink. Should also be safe enough for you to try to get some shut-eye, boy. I’m not Eddie, you can’t bat your eyes at me and get your way. I’m taking you to the hospital if anything happens, right?” 

Steve looked at the man with narrowly masked surprise before giving him a weak nod. He couldn’t imagine his parents doing the same, not even for one of Steve’s friends, let alone a stranger. 

“Come on, you can sleep in my room,” Eddie uttered, springing to his feet with a joviality that someone who’d gone twenty-four hours without sleep shouldn’t be able to muster. 

Steve blinked, slowly standing and gathering the sheets around himself, acutely aware of how ridiculous he looked. 

“Keep the door open,” Wayne called at their retreating backs. 

That was how Steve spent the summer of ‘85 hauled up and healing at the Munsons’ trailer. A few months later, he’d return the favour. When Eddie went missing, Wayne knew where to look. 

[bylrlve]

So…

A host for Starcourt Study Hall posted on r/byler a couple of weeks ago, asking for information about Byler for a ship episode she and her co-host are planning. This podcast not only does breakdowns of each episode of the show, but does episodes digging into themes, theories, MBTI testing of particular pairings, and, you guessed it, ships.

They’ve done episodes on Jancy, Lumax, Stancy, Jopper (an MBTI and a ship one), and Mileven. I reached out through reddit DM and have been communicating with her since. I’ve sent posts by @emblazons, @queerxqueen, @kidovna, @givehimthemedicine, @chirpsythismorning @gayofthefae @snacksizedgates @tryingonametaphor @doriandrifting @starbylers @conflictofthemind @aemiron-main @byler-alarmist @mikesbasementbeets @sennqu and @theninaproject - yep, this is an exhaustive list. I also linked her to my blog archive so she can see my reblogs and posts.

The first episode script is 1 hour 8 mins. Yes, I said first, because the second episode will be out next Wednesday 16/9.

The host I’ve been communicating with, Marina, has told me that she’s now fully on-board with byler, ‘hook, line, and sinker’, that she’s excited, and that she thinks it makes more sense of a lot of things re: Mike. She also concluded that it ties into broader themes and makes the show richer. Bylers? Are not crazy.

ETA; this week’s ep covers s1 and 2, and next week’s covers s3 and 4.

[italiansteebie]

The first time Steve is exposed to subculture, it changes his life. The sneer his mother gives ins't surprising, but Steve can't help but be entranced by the glinting silver on this random man's body.

They're everywhere, in his nose, lips, and when he flicks his tongue out, Steve even catches sight of the shining jewelry in his tongue. And maybe Steve was already 13, practically grown up at this point, but he sees this man and thinks, that's who he wants to be when he grows up.

Unfortunately, that is not how things go.

His mother sees him studying the style of the delinquent in front of them and smacks his lightly on the head. "You have a reputation to uphold, Steven," She mutters through gritted teeth. So Steve hangs his head, and his dreams of looking like the colored haired boy he saw in the grocery store.

So years later, he's still adorned in polo shirts and light washed jeans. He's snuck in some goofy hair, but it's no where near what he'd want it to be ideally.

And here's the thing, he knew his family's reputation was important, but now that he's been denied from every college he applied to, including tech, and he's been lowered to serving ice cream in a sailor uniform, he wonders just how important the reputation was.

--

He can't help but wonder if he's going to die like this.

Covered in vomit and blood, in a sailor outfit on a dirty bathroom floor curled up to a lesbian, who he thinks maybe his soulmate. Platonically, of course.

"I've always wanted, like- colored hair. 'Nd piercings 'nd stuff. Y'know." Steve said, letting his head fall against Robin's shoulder. "Why haven't you?" Robin asked, resting her head on his. Steve shrugged, "Reputation, I guess. I think my parents would commit homicide."

Robin snorted, "If only they could see you now," she giggles. Steve shifts to retaliate, but can only laugh along with her. Steve nods, laughing harder when an angry looking Dustin and Erica barge into the bathroom.

--

They make it out alive.

Somehow. But they do.

And that's how they ended up here.

"Rob, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Of course it is! Look, Eddie is probably the only punk adjacent guy for miles, and he probably knows about all those records you think you hide in your closet."

"You've seen those?"

Robin shrugs, "When there's a box labeled 'do not open' in King Steve's closet, you take a look. It doesn't matter! I'm sure he knows who Iron Maiden is!"

The door swings open, "Of course I do."

Eddie Munson stands in front of them in all his glory.

"Told ya." Robin says, a light sneer on her face. Steve shoves her over, before looking back at Eddie, about to speak before he cuts him off. "I know Iron Maiden, what I don't know, is why King Steve is on my front porch with Robin from band. And why he's asking about Iron Maiden of all things." Eddie looks a bit like he want's to turn them away, but he steps back and opens the door wider, motioning for them to come in.

Once they're all milling about Eddie's tiny living room, Steve starts. "I know you've got this whole," Steve gestures at Eddie, "Metal head look going on and, well. I need some advice. Guidance, if you will." Robin nods along with him. "Yeah, a lot of guidance. He want's to get his nose pierced, but he only has polos."

Steve scoffs at this. "I have band shirts, Buckley. I'm just not allowed to wear them. But no more! I'm fully embracing this side of me."

Eddie watches, slightly amused, "So what do you need my help for?" He asks, eyebrow arching. "I need you to pierce my nose. Or at least tall me where to go," Steve rambles, shifting from foot to foot.

He watches as the metal head mulls this over. Eddie sighs, and shakes his head, Steve's shoulders dropping. "C'mon, Rob. He's not gonna do it, let's just go." He says quietly. "Woah, hey! I never said I wouldn't do it. I just don't uh- Why me?"

"You're the only person I thought could be helpful." Steve admits, watching as a smirk spreads across Eddie's face. "Alright then, big boy. Step into my office."

Steve follows Eddie into the bathroom, Robin hot on his heels, watching in some combination of awe and fear as Eddie pulls out. needle from the medicine cabinet. "Oh shit," Steve breathes. Eddie raises an eyebrow, but moves on. "Stay here while I get the jewelry."

"You okay, Steve? Oh my god, you're shaking." Robin frets, "Do you wanna back out? We don't have to do this." She says, grabbing Steve's hand. Steve swallows thickly, "I- I want to. I just. The needle is really freaking me out. I keep seeing that fucking syringe." Robin nods, rubbing Steve's shoulder, laying her head on his shoulder.

Eddie comes bounding back into the bathroom, "Hey- woah. Am I interrupting? No PDA in the trailer, please." He laughs. Steve and Robin jump away from each other, "Oh ew. He is so not my type," Robin groans.

"Whatever, let's do this Stevie. We're doing your septum, right?"

Steve tilts his head, and Eddie sighs "The one right here," Eddie places his hands on his own septum. "Oh, yeah. That one." Eddie nods, getting to work.

Eddie lies the needle up with Steve's nose, "Okay, breath in," Steve follows, "And breath out," Eddie instructs, and slides the needle through. In a fluid motion, Eddie slides the jewelry in, screwing on the ball and checking his work.

"Alright, we're all done, Steve-o." Eddie says, patting his cheek, before looking up at the boy. He looked a bit pale. "Steve?" He asked, before Steve promptly passed out, flopping to the floor in a boneless heap. "Oh, shit. Steve!" Robin cries, bending down. Eddie freezes for a second, "Oh shit. Okay. He probably just fainted, it happens sometimes. Lemme get him some water." He practically leaps through the trailer to grab some water.

He's back in the bathroom right as Steve comes to, "Scoops! I work for scoops, please!" He's shouting, there's tearing streaming down his face and Robin is there next to him, holding him close. "Shh, Steve. We're in the trailer, remember? Eddie's trailer? He pierced your nose." Robin soothes.

Eddie moves in closer, "yeah, I uh. I got you some water," he says, handing him the water. Steve grabs it with a shakey hand, "Thanks, Munson." He breathes, tears slowing. "Uh. Sorry. I had a long month. Y'know," Steve shrugs, and it leaves Eddie reeling. Was he just going to pretend this didn't just happen? The guy was still sitting on his bathroom floor. "Steve, seriously? Look, just sit here, I'm gonna go call someone to pick us up." Robin sighs, before making her way out of the small space.

"Are you okay," Eddie asks, sincerely, "No." Steve answers, voice cracking as he does so. "I was in that mall fire last month, and the hospital trip involved a lot of needles. I guess I didn't realize they still kind of freak me out." Eddie nodded in understanding. "I get that. I couldn't look at a blue chevy for the longest time cause it reminded me of my dad."

Steve sighed, "Thanks for doing this, Eddie. Hey, uh. How much do I owe you?" Eddie waved his hand, "It's all good, Harrington." He dismissed. Steve shook his head, "No way man, I gotta pay you back somehow." He insisted.

Eddie mulled it over, "take me to dinner?" He asked, before realizing what the fuck he just said, "I mean- fuck. Not- I didn't" He scrambled to his feet. Steve grabbed his hand, "Eddie, wait. It's fine."

"Fine? I asked you on a date. If you hadn't just passed out in my bathroom, I'm positive you would've decked me by now!" Eddie squealed. Steve shook his head, "I- I like both, Eddie. Y'know, boys and girls. And honestly. I'd love to go on a date with you," Steve said, smiling up at him.

"Steve! Joyce's here to pick us up since you died!" Robin called from the living room. Eddie helped Steve stand, and walked him to the living room. Steve leaned a little heavier into his side, "I'll call you when I'm a little less weak in the knees, okay?" Steve said softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek before following Robin outside.

"Thanks again, Eds!" Steve called once he was in the car.

Eddie couldn't wait for that phone call.

[badboysteve]

Steve and Robin, post-confession:

[obsessedbyneon]

Gwinett Place mall in Duluth, Georgia is from around 1984 and was featured as the "Starcourt Mall" in Stranger Things.

My post

[unfinishedslurs]

prank gone wrong (viral!) (steddie)

Eddie’s been someone’s dirty little secret before.

He’s got a type, okay? Unfortunately hot jocks are often the type of asshole to get sucked off behind the bleacher and then turn around and spit in his face about it. Going right back to their friends to talk shit about what a freak Eddie is, never mind the fact that his mouth still tastes like their nasty fucking jizz. He’s used to it by now. Used to people who pretend they barely know each other. He’s not asking they parade their relationship for the whole town to see, just someone who doesn’t pretend they’re strangers. Is that too much to ask? 

He’s so fucking stupid. He really thought this time would be different.

Steve Harrington barreled into his life like a goddamn train and Eddie’s been derailed ever since.

The first time he met Steve he was six. Eddie still lived with his mom, and she took him to the park, where he met a little boy who wrinkled his nose and told him he smelled bad. Steve does not remember this, and turned red with mortification the first time Eddie told him

After that incredible hit to baby Eddie’s self-esteem, they didn’t interact much, existing on the periphery of each others lives. He figured it didn’t matter. Harrington was a year under him, and a douche besides. Was ready to leave town from the moment he learned to walk. As soon as he graduated, he could finally get the hell out of this place and never think about the assholes he went to school with again.

His mom leaves. His dad gets arrested. He moves in with his Uncle Wayne, who only has one bedroom in his trailer and won’t take no for an answer when he gives it to Eddie. 

Eddie doesn’t graduate.

(Harrington comes back to school different after Byers beats him up. Eddie doesn’t notice. He’s got bigger things to worry about.)

They don’t talk in Eddie’s second run of senior year either. He hears the gossip, sees him come to school with stitches in his forehead and no girlfriend. Still, it’s none of his damn business. He rolls his eyes at the rumors and stays far away from Billy Hargrove.

Steve Harrington graduates. Eddie doesn’t.

And this is where his careful distance falls apart.

It’s the mall’s fault of course. What isn’t? Businesses closing down, rent going up, his resolve crumbling. All over some fucking ice cream. God, Eddie should have just turned around. Left the store and the mall and the entire damn town behind. 

He’s aware he’s being melodramatic, but in his defense he’s queer in Indiana. He has a right to be. 

Anyways, the point is that Eddie saw Harrington’s little blue shorts and red lips and cannot be held responsible for what happened after. 

(They fucked. That’s what happened. They fucked, and kept fucking, and then after the mall burned down Steve showed up on his doorstep with suspiciously placed bruises and his coworker and looked at Eddie with pleading eyes. He didn’t even bring Robin home to her parents like a sensible person, just insisted on having her there because they were a package deal now and couldn’t be separated. Like puppies, Robin said when he looked at her. Last he checked, she wanted to bite Steve’s head off, and now they were attached at the hip?

He got used to it quickly. He had to. She comes on half their dates. Steve’s lucky he’s so cute.)

Now, nearly five months after Steve served him ice cream for the first time, he feels his heart shatter in the Hawkins High parking lot. 

“Harrington,” Dustin shouts, and it carries across the empty lot. Steve’s head jerks up and he waves, Robin standing beside him. “Steve, c’mere!”

Steve tilts his head. “What?”

“Come. Here.” Dustin repeats, enunciating clearly. Mike and Lucas look at him like he’s insane. So do Gareth, Jeff, and Chuck. 

Steve, who is standing a mere 20 feet away, turns to Robin and says something that makes her snort. Eddie can practically hear his bitchy murmur. 

“Is that Harrington’s girlfriend?” He hears Gareth ask. He has to swallow his laughter. 

“Yes,” Dustin says.

“No,” Mike corrects. 

“He won’t admit anything, but he always has a bunch of hickies and stuff after hanging out with her,” Lucas clarifies, because half the time when Steve says he’s hanging out with Robin he's actually with Eddie. The fact that Robin is usually still there is irrelevant. Marking up his boyfriend is one of his favorite pastimes. He refuses to let his boyfriend’s “soulmate” get in the way just because she refuses to sleep in one of the Harrington’s fancy guest rooms like a normal person unless he kicks her out. The way they both pout at him for it is fucking ridiculous. He ends up giving in half the time, and then lies awake and cold on the very edge of the bed because Robin starfishes her way across the rest and Steve is a blanket hog. 

The first time he tried giving Steve a hickey as some kind of dominance move for privacy, Robin stared him dead in the eye and didn’t back down. 

“I can do that too,” she said, and promptly bit Steve on the shoulder. Steve, who was shirtless and already slightly dazed from Eddie’s ministrations, let out an honest to God squeak. Like a dog toy. Eddie and Robin both stared at him before breaking into loud cackles that had a blushing Steve yelling at them before finally burrowing under the covers and refusing to come out. Needless to say, Eddie didn’t get laid that night. 

“Harring-ton,” Dustin whines. 

“I’m literally right here. You come here.”

He did, if only to grab Steve by the wrist and drag him to where everyone else was standing. Steve squawks. “When we’re late for dinner with Ma, I’m telling her it was your fault—“

“I want you to meet everyone!”

“I went to school with them!”

“Yeah, but they think you’re still a dick,” he says, as if they’re not standing right there. Steve is similarly engrossed in their conversation, not even noticing that Dustin’s stopped walking. 

“They can think whatever—“ he walks right into Eddie and lets out a startled oof. Eddie, who let it happen, catches him as he flails. 

“Well hello to you too,” he says, not bothering to hide his amusement. 

Steve looks at him with wide eyes, gaze dropping down to his lips before whirling around and snapping, “Henderson!”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lucas mimics under his breath, ducking behind Steve when Dustin turns around with the fury of a thousand suns in his eyes. 

He just stands there, hands on his hips as the kids bicker around him. 

“Oh, so now we can talk?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, brow furrowed like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about. 

Eddie can’t help but laugh, a sharp sound that makes Steve jump. “What do you think it means, Harrington? You never want to talk to me in front of the kids! Don’t want to dirty your hands with the Freak in public, I guess.”

“I…what are you talking about?”

[no talkie henderosn]

“What?” His eyes get wide, panicked, as he reaches for Eddie. “Eddie, that’s not—you have to know that’s not what I meant by that. I never meant it like that!”

“Then how did you mean it?”

Steve mumbles something he can’t make out. 

“Speak up, sweetheart.” It comes out mean, he knows it does, but he’s feeling a little mean right now. Lashing out like a wounded animal just because his boyfriend didn’t want to talk to him in public. 

Actually, when he puts it that way, he remembers he’s justified. 

Steve says something again, still incomprehensible. Eddie rolls his eyes. “If you can’t stop mumbling, I’ll just leave.”

That does the trick. “I thought we were playing a prank on Henderson together!” 

Eddie gapes at him. “What?”

“I thought,” he repeats, running an anxious hand through his hair, “we were pretending not to know each other to mess with the kid. Eddie, baby, you’ve gotta know I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known you were hurting. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t I…” This can’t be real. He’s been agonizing for months, and for what? A prank? Just some stupid, shitty prank Steve thought he was in on? He’s going to jump off the quarry. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have had so much fun with that!”

“I thought you knew!”

“How would I have known? I can’t read your mind!”

“You can sometimes,” he says, pouting. Eddie wishes they weren’t in the middle of an argument, he wants to kiss those lips so bad. 

He groans into his hands. “It’s significantly easier to tell when your boyfriend wants to fuck than it is to read ‘Hey, let’s play a prank on this twelve year old,’ on someone’s face, sweetheart.”

“I guess,” Steve huffs. Then his face softens. Eddie lets himself be drawn in by the wrist, helpless in the face of his sweet smile. “We can stop,” he promises, swaying in close enough for his breath to ghost across Eddie’s lips. “We could walk into Hellfire tomorrow holding hands, if you wanted to. Anything you want, just say the word.”

“How would we walk into Hellfire? It’s at your house.”

Steve pinches him for that. 

[half-oz-eddie]

Billy couldn't be discharged from the hospital unless he had somewhere to stay and someone to care for him.

He could hardly move on his own, needed medication and was haunted by nightmares. Simply put, he couldn't do this on his own even if tried.

The Byers moved to California, he learned, wishing he could have gone with them.

Joyce said he was more than welcome to join them when he didn't require as much medical care. Traveling in his condition was dangerous anyway.

Steve's parents ranted and raved about how incompetent Steve was and he wasn't capable of being a full-time nurse for anyone when he could hardly take care of himself. Steve just believed it was an excuse for them to say no. While Billy was in the hospital recovering, Steve was constantly by his side. The rumors spread, and everyone knew there was something between them, but Steve didn't care. He loved Billy and promised he'd check on him everyday, no matter where he was.

Mike offered up his basement, and Billy told him he would rather get flayed again than stay in his house. He'd never explain why, though.

The obvious option would be for Billy to go home, but Neil didn't want to be bothered. He called Billy a "burden" and told him to check himself into an adult care home. As much as Max hated it, she had no say in the matter.

That left Mrs. Henderson, who, upon learning Billy had nowhere else to go, offered him the spare bedroom in their house. She was recently laid off, and took a job from home stuffing envelopes.

Billy received a generous amount of hush money from the government, and was willing to pay for the room.

The first night was a little awkward. Billy had never spoken to Mrs. Henderson before, and he hadn't spoken to Dustin very much, aside from some small talk when he visited him at the hospital.

He was in too much pain to sit upright at the dinner table, so Claudia propped him up on his bed and convinced dustin to join her in keeping Billy company.

They ate together and watched Shadowlands, which Dustin and Billy found dreadfully boring.

As Claudia had her back to them, Dustin turned to Billy, mouthing about how boring the movie was.

They tried to hide their laughter, pretending to enjoy the movie when Claudia turned back to look at them.

"Wanna see something cool?" Dustin whispered.

Billy nodded. He doubted anything Dustin would show him would be cool, but he was wrong.

Dustin was working on some figurines for D&D and Billy thought they looked pretty badass.

Claudia turned to them again, smiling. "So I was watching the movie all by myself, hm?" "Sorry, mom. I thought Billy would want to see some of the stuff I was working on and—"

"It's alright, Dusty. You boys have fun playing with your toys, I'll clean the dishes."

"They're not toys mom, they're..." Dustin sighed. "She doesn't get it."

"At least she's here."

Dustin nodded. "Yeah, she's a great mom! Hey, d'you like comic books?"

"Max used to leave them lying around and I'd look at them. They're okay, I guess."

"Wait here—I mean...sorry. I forgot you...couldn't move." Dustin winced.

Billy sighed, brushing off Dustin's awkward comment. "Bring me a drink while you're up."

"You got it!"

Billy watched Dustin run out of the room, then glanced down at Dustin's figurines.

"Steve will get a kick out of knowing his best friend likes me."

[crayonboxcolors607]

in honor of Part 1 getting 100 likes and like 15 reblogs! (a lot for tiny stupid me lol) i decided to suck it up and write another part bc ppl have asked for it

IF YOU HAVEN'T READ PART ONE, PLEASE DO SO!

After Robin found out, things were a bit better for Steve. The two of them practiced their signs during slow shifts at the Family Video. Robin showed him a new sign every day and helped him improve his lip reading. It benefited his daily life too. Gone were the days when he had to walk all the way across the store to talk to Robin, now the two of them could have conversations from opposite sides of the store, their hands flying fast as they spoke.

Robin was a fucking godsend, bullying Keith into giving Steve more time off in case of migraines and providing excuses when he couldn't drive the kids around. She begged Steve to wear his hearing aids, eventually telling him that if he played his cards right he could cover them up with his hair, which ultimately convinced him. She'd helped him find a new hairstyle that almost eliminated them completely, clapping her hands excitedly as the shock on his face was evident when he turned them on and could differentiate sounds again.

Of course, there were still things that were hard, even with the hearing aids. Steve needed to be directly facing someone in order to have a basic understanding of what they were saying, and there couldn't be anything obstructing their mouth. This proved especially difficult when Steve interacted with the younger Party members, although they continued to chalk it up to Steve's usual airheadedness. For once, he was grateful to be stereotyped as a dumb jock.

One random day in October, however, things began to change.

Dustin had somehow roped Steve into driving him, Mike, and Lucas to some fancy-ass comic store in Indianapolis, claiming that "the one in Hawkins is not nearly comprehensive enough, Steve". He'd rolled his eyes and responded with what they referred to as his "Mom Pose", his hands on his hips and his eyebrow cocked as he stared at them judgementally. Eventually, though, he'd relented, letting them fight over who got shotgun and who had to sit in the back.

Somehow, although he himself didn't quite seem to know how, Lucas managed to snag the front seat. He'd slid in quietly as Dustin and Mike threw themselves into the backseat, yelling obnoxiously about unfairness and favoritism. Steve refrained from pointing out that he'd had no part in the tussle for shotgun, instead allowing it to play out.

He and Lucas had been engaging in conversation about sports when Lucas had quietly mentioned that he was thinking of trying out for the school's basketball team, tentatively asking Steve if they could meet up the next weekend so he could give him some pointers. Steve had agreed without even thinking, but he began to panic once he got home later that afternoon. How was he supposed to go over skills in basketball when he couldn't even hear out of his left ear?

But in typical Steve fashion, he procrastinated until the last minute, eventually deciding that he simply wouldn't wear the hearing aids. He'd be fine for one basketball practice, right?

And so, Steve drove to the basketball courts that Saturday, removing his hearing aids as he arrived, and thus reintroducing a fuzzy ringing in his ears that he hadn't experienced in a long time. It felt alien, but he shook his head around a bit and started to shoot baskets. He'd forgotten how good sports made him feel, and was pleasantly surprised at the adrenaline that began pumping through his veins. In fact, his new lack of hearing made it easier for him to practice, as it allowed him to tune out the rest of the world and focus solely on himself and his own fluid motions.

This did prove to be a slight problem, however, as he didn't hear Lucas dropping his stuff on the bench, nor did he notice him walking up to Steve. So the tapping on his shoulder startled him far more than it should have.

"Jesus Sinclair!" Steve exclaimed. "You scared the shit outta me, man!" Lucas seemed confused at Steve's reaction, and he silently reminded himself that none of the kids knew about his hearing.

"Uhh, sorry Steve," Lucas said slowly. "Are um, are you okay?" The concern on his face melted Steve's heart just a little bit.

"I'm fine buddy," he reassured the young teen. "Was just in my own world a bit, you know, focusing and stuff." His explanation seemed to comfort Lucas enough, and he grinned.

"You ready to get started?" he asked, tossing the younger boy the ball. Lucas caught it with a practiced ease and began dribbling, feinting left and right. Steve dropped down into his defensive position, mirroring Lucas's every movement, tracking his feet to predict which direction he would go next.

He felt himself slipping back into that headspace that he loved so much, the one that drew him into sports in the first place. Because he didn’t need to think about it, the strategies were always in his brain. He just needed to rely on muscle memory, all his former skills coming back to him as he and Lucas scrimmaged.

They played for about thirty minutes before taking a quick break to grab water and snacks, both of them struggling to catch their breath. Lucas opened his Gatorade™ and said something Steve, causing him to look over in surprise as he struggled to figure out what the younger boy was saying.

"Pardon?" he said, pretending he just hadn't been paying attention. Lucas repeated himself, or at least Steve had to assume that he did, because again, he couldn't understand a single word that left the younger boy's mouth.

There was a heavy feeling in his stomach as he debated asking Lucas to repeat himself a third time.

Someone tapped his leg, pulling him out of his own spiraling headspace. Steve looked up, feeling even worse as he registered the fear on Lucas' face.

"Steve," Lucas began slowly, seeming struggling with what to say next. "Can you, uh, can you not hear me?"

Of course, that sentence Steve was able to comprehend.

With a heavy sigh, he shook his head.

"Not really," he replied, looking anywhere but at Lucas. "My hearing started to go after Billy smashed my head with a plate. And it got worse after Starcourt." He looked up then, a grim smile on his face. "Turns out multiple concussions aren't exactly good for a person."

Lucas' eyes widened at the confession. "So, are you deaf?" he asked. Or at least, Steve assumed that's what he said.

"Partially," Steve replied. "I can't hear at all out of my left ear, that's where I got the most damage. My right ear can function, but not normally. I mostly rely on reading lips and context clues."

"Oh my god," Lucas said slowly, the gears visibly turning in his head. "Oh my god! W-we kept teasing you! We kept calling you stupid a-and laughing at you! You couldn't even hear us! And you-" The boy suddenly slumped over and placed his head in his hands. He said something, Steve was sure of it, but it was additionally muffled by him covering his face.

"Uh, Lucas, buddy," Steve said hesitantly. "I can't understand you if I can't see your face." Lucas looked up at him then, tears pooling in his eyes.

"It's my fault," he said. Steve felt his mouth drop open in shock, and began to protest, but Lucas stopped him.

"Billy was coming after me," he insisted, talking clearer so Steve could understand. "He was attacking me! You stepped in and tried to defend me -- now you're deaf and it's all my fault!"

Steve felt his heart drop.

He'd been so scared to tell anyone because he was worried they wouldn't view him the same way as before, that he hadn't even considered how the kids might feel if they knew he was like this because of his attempts to protect them.

"Oh Lucas," Steve said softly, gathering the crying teen into his arms. "It's not your fault. There isn't a world where I wouldn't have done the same. You're my kid. I'm always gonna protect you. That's just how it works." He felt Lucas try to push away, to protest, but he just held him tighter. "You and your little gaggle of idiots are worth everything. I'd go deaf a thousand times if it meant keeping you all safe."

With a sniffle, Lucas detached himself from the older boy.

"Really?" he said, eyes shiny with tears.

"Of course," Steve responded, without missing a beat. He gave the younger boy a final squeeze, before wiping away the few tears that had escaped while he and Lucas were talking. "I'd better get you home anyway. Your mom will have my head on a stick if you miss dinner." He kept his hand on Lucas' back as he wiped his tears and sniffed a final time.

"Okay," he said. "But you're staying for dinner."

HOLY SHIT I FINALLY FINISHED! ONLY TOOK ME 9 MONTHS LOL

okay okay so i did talk about the older members of the party finding out next as well as dustin but i just had to make a liar out of myself bc when i started writing this my brain was just like "but what if we did a wholesome reveal with Lucas instead??" and now here we are and i regret nothing

except the lack of sleep. i regret that a lot.

also, i am not an athlete. i am a depressed and introverted high school theater kid who has never played basketball in my entire life bc i am a measly 5ft 1in (roughly 155cm). so dont come at me if the sportsball lingo is incorrect bc i have no fucking clue what im doing.

also THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING AND ALL THE LIKES AND REBLOGS ON MY LAST POST!!

[fag4dykestobin]

i kind of sat down and thought about steve and robin cooking together, and then i entered a fugue state and came out of it with a little over 1.7k words written about them being domestic besties (domesties?). so um. enjoy :)

-

Robin has destroyed one of her mom’s pans again, so she’s been banished to Steve’s house.

Well, okay, let’s back up.

Robin, waking up and feeling especially productive, had taken it upon herself to make some scrambled eggs. Nice and simple, right? So she had grabbed the first spatula and pan she could find, and… scrambled those eggs! She even remembered the salt and pepper! Unfortunately, as Robin had remembered after she oh-so-lovingly scraped off the nonstick coating, metal utensils and nonstick pans didn’t really get along. Oops. Panicking, she had scraped her mess into the trash and called Steve to pick her up. So, really, she had banished herself, preemptively.

“How the hell did you even do this much damage?” Steve asks, holding up the pan. The look of befuddlement on his face is picture perfect; you could teach children how to identify emotions with that face. Robin would pinch his cheek if she wasn’t so embarrassed.

“I don’t know! I just tried to make some eggs!”

“Rob, there’s like, a solid cube of—”

“A cube is a 3D object, dingus.”

“This is a 3D object!”

“Not in that way! It’s not a cube! You mean a square!”

Steve throws up his hands, one of them brandishing the pan and waving it around. “Fine! There’s a solid square…” Steve gives Robin a look. She nods her head at him in acquiescence. “... Of coating rubbed off of this thing. Why were you punishing your eggs like that?”

Robin leans back on the counter she’s been sitting on, legs swinging. Her heel hits the cabinet once, and Steve’s eye twitches, but he says nothing. Because he loves her. But she tries to avoid doing it again, for his sake. “I had to get that yolk distributed! I was working fast, Evie, the burner was on and I wanted it evenly mixed—!”

“So why didn’t you mix it in a bowl before that?!” Steve looks so stressed. It's kind of funny, given how unimportant the subject matter is. Robin suppresses a grin.

“I forgot! I was groggy!”

Steve groans, setting the ruined pan down and rubbing a hand over his face. “... When we move in together,” he says, pointing an accusatory finger at Robin, “I am keeping my metal utensils in a locked safe.”

The warm, fuzzy feeling that always appears when Robin is reminded of their future together, their permanence in each other’s lives, it fizzes and pops in her chest like a sparkler. It’s still such a comforting feeling, even after all these months.

It doesn’t stop her from antagonizing him a little. “Like I don’t know what combination you’ll set it to,” she scoffs.  “I could just break in. To spite you.”

Steve sits with that for a moment. “You’re breaking my heart, Robbie, you know that? You break my heart.” Not a real comeback. She’s won their battle of the bits, this time around.

“Well, anyway,” Steve continues, “I am really hoping you didn’t eat those eggs after seasoning them with metal filings.”

“It wasn’t— I don’t think the coating is metal. I don’t know what it is, actually, but I don’t think it falls under metal filings.”

Steve hmms. “Well, it’s not, like, plastic, right? Or silicone? That would just melt.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Well, it can’t be metal, because it loses a fight with metal spatulas.”

Steve thinks for a second. “Is… God, I mean, I guess there are other, other uh… what’s the word? For, like, not from plants?” Robin scrunches her brow in thought. “Synthetic? Inorganic?”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Yeah, both of those work. There’s probably things that aren’t plastic or metal that can be used to cook with, but it feels weird. That there’s another category out there.”

Robin nods in agreement, and they sit in companionable silence for a moment, contemplating on the nature of cookware.

“Anyway, no, I still haven’t eaten.”

Steve curses, gets up from leaning on his kitchen island, and steps over to the cabinets where he keeps his pots and pans. “Yes, God, okay, let me feed you. Still want eggs?”

“You know it!” Robin says, and Steve gets to cooking, bustling around the kitchen with practiced motions. It’s nice to watch him cook. He gets very focused, in a way that doesn’t usually come naturally to him. Steve doesn’t usually like talking while he’s cooking, but he hums bits of songs, bobs his head to the beat.

In no time at all he has a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of Robin, and she hops off the counter to sit at a stool at the kitchen island. She grabs the plate from Steve and smacks a wet kiss on his cheek, making him roll his eyes with a smile and subtly wipe her spit off.

Steve takes a seat across from her, and she notices that he doesn’t have anything. Did he already eat? “Did you already eat?” Robin asks.

Steve blinks. “Oh. No, I forgot.” He has a tendency to do that; when he cooks for someone, he can get so caught up in it that he forgets to make some for himself, and is left to scramble afterwards. “I’ll make myself some eggs after you’re done.”

An idea comes to mind. An attempt at redemption, maybe. “Let me?” Robin asks.

“And let you ruin my pans? No thanks.”

A flash of genuine hurt passes through Robin, and she lets it show on her face in the form of a pout. The comment isn’t unfounded, but… “No, please! I know what I did wrong, I’ll do better this time. I’m not sleepy anymore, either.” She just wants to take care of Steve like he takes care of her. She wants to feed him eggs, goddamnit! When was the last time anyone fed him eggs? Actually, if she thinks about that one, she’ll get sad, so she stops thinking about it.

Steve can obviously see her earnestness, and he softens. And rolls his eyes. But that’s just him being Steve, so Robin loves it. “Whatever you want, Birdie. Just don’t burn them. Oh, and use garlic powder.”

So Robin practically inhales the rest of her eggs and toast (very tasty, as always) and gets to work. Steve sits at his stool at the island, trying and failing not to watch Robin like a hawk as she bumbles around his kitchen (“That’s not enough garlic powder, Rob, put some more in there, it won’t bite!”  and “Use the small pan on the top shelf— no, the other small pan. No, the other—”), but she does eventually get a plate of eggs and toast in front of him. Not as good looking as the one Steve presented her, but it smelled good, and didn’t have weird inorganic pan flecks in them. Steve gives her a sloppy kiss on her cheek this time, over-exaggerating and putting way too much saliva in it, seriously, was he a dog or something? Robin BLECH’d and rubbed at her cheek, but he looked happy at his plate of food, so. Overall success, even if sacrifices had to be made.

Robin leaned on the island on her elbows, face a foot away from Steve’s as he picked up a forkful of egg. He side-eyed her.

“Do you… want some…?”

Robin waved a hand at him. “No, dingus. Eat it! Do you like it?”

“Okay, okay!” Steve rolled his eyes and ate his forkful. Robin stared at him as he chewed, looking out for emotions such as delight and wonder, but also disgust and revulsion.

She found nothing. Steve looked normal. He ate another forkful, eyeing her.

“So?” Robin prods.

“They’re eggs?” Steve says, mouth still half full.

“Swallow!” Steve rolls his eyes and does as she asks. “Nothing else? They’re just eggs?”

Steve nods, shrugging a little. Robin feels a little let-down. The first time Steve had made her eggs, it was life-changing. He put heavy cream in them. Robin doesn’t think her parents had ever bought heavy cream in their lives.

Robin guesses that it makes sense, though. This is just how he makes eggs, duh. Still, it makes her feel kind of bad, that she couldn’t give Steve the same feeling he gave her.

Steve seems to sense her inner turmoil. “They’re— it’s good, though! You did a good job. I do like it.” He seems kind of… embarrassed, but grateful. “You didn’t have to make them for me. Thanks.”

Robin bumps his shoulder with her own, and then retreats to her seat, allowing him a bit more personal space. But not too much! She kicks at his shins, and he kicks back, a smile on his face.

Cleanup is easy as Steve washes the dishes and Robin dries. It’s the small, domestic things, like this, that make her so excited to eventually live together. It’s so easy and companionable, full of chatter about band practice and Dustin’s latest science experiment. She can’t wait to graduate.

After the dishes, though, they’re both at the kitchen island again, silently staring at the pan Robin had ruined at her house earlier.

“... It seems like a waste to throw away,” Robin complains.

“I know, right? But it’s, like, useless now.”

Robin hums. “I mean, no, it’s still like… metal. I feel like we should be melting it down.”

Steve stares at her. “In what world would it be more useful melted down?”

Robin squawks, indignant at her idea being challenged. “You know what I mean!”

“No I don’t! Do you just want a, a… what’s the word? A bar of metal.”

“Ingot.”

“Do you just want an ingot hanging out on our mantelpiece?!”

“Well, I didn’t before, but now I do!”

They look at each other for only a moment before dissolving into simultaneous giggles, shared joy crackling and leaping between them.

Steve settles down first. Still grinning, he turns to put the pan at the very top of a relatively bare cupboard. “Fine, we’ll just… keep this to be melted down later.”

Robin can’t do anything to stop the twin grin on her face, not that she would ever want to. “I love you, Evie.” The words come easy, and the delight and surprise on Steve’s face is as wonderful as always. He pulls her into a hug.

“I love you too, Rob.”

[beep-beep-robin]

eddie taking steve on a date to an ice cream parlor and steve can‘t explain to him why the smell is suddenly making him feel like he can‘t breathe. why the clinking of the ice cream scooper in the glasses is making him flinch.

[memes-saved-me]

El slamming her door in Billy's face with her mind while they're arguing and Hopper is just sitting in his chair like:

[stranger-rants]

Billy would probably feel abandoned by everyone had he survived Starcourt, but what hurts the most about it would be the way people avoid talking about it. They don’t acknowledge what they did or didn’t do before Billy nearly died. They act like it was all necessary to stop The Mindflayer, and Billy can’t be around them when they feel like talking about it. When they talk about the Upside Down and it’s creatures and the crazy, scary shit they’ve fought off or Vecna or whatever… he just has to leave the room, because no one ever ever considers what it felt like the whole time. Like, they realize he’s pretty messed up from it all but they don’t consider how messed up he is emotionally just from not having a single person on his side. Again.

Yeah, he stood up to The Mindflayer which was “badass” and they use his heroism as a way into their circle, but that doesn’t change the fact that they were going to find any way they could to put him down and as guilty as he feels about all the death and destruction (that wasn’t his fault) it still hurts. It hurts like when his mother left. It hurts like when he called and she stopped answering. None of them understand how alone he feels, and how much help he needs. They take his fierce independence and unwillingness to ask for help to be just Billy’s stubbornness but the reality is that he doesn’t trust anyone to help him and they prove that to him by not being there when he does need help. He just feels angry and alone and internalizes that no one will ever protect him.

It’s not intentional on anyone’s part. They just don’t get it, and Billy fears that if he advocates for himself then all his past misdeeds will be used against him which is what happens when you’re surviving abuse. Maybe Billy goes silent when people joke around him, or hides away in his room when people come over, or slams the door when he’s overwhelmed, and people will say “what’s his problem?” or “what did I do?” or “some things never change” but they don’t understand that on the other side of the door he’s reliving every single moment of those few days he was possessed and he just needs someone to care. He just needs someone to acknowledge his pain, and stop acting like everything’s okay now. He just needs someone to say he didn’t deserve it - he deserved to be helped, and he was let down.

[bylrlve]

Here’s the second Starcourt Study Hall Theoretically… Byler episode, as promised. This episode, which analyses s3 and 4 clocks in at 1 hour 50 minutes. Combined with the 1hr 10 minute episode 1, this adds up to a full three hours spent on byler!!! 💙💛

Shout outs to those whose posts I sent to Marina: @emblazons , @queerxqueen , @kidovna , @givehimthemedicine , @chirpsythismorning @gayofthefae @snacksizedgates @tryingonametaphor @doriandrifting @starbylers @conflictofthemind @aemiron-main @byler-alarmist @mikesbasementbeets @sennqu and @theninaproject

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[feral-jackdaw]

Just Stay

Day 4 of #steddieweek2023 - hurt/comfort

Eddie couldn't care less that the Starcourt mall burned down. Sure, he most likely just lost his summer job, but he was never a fan of it anyway.

There was just one thing bothering him. The only positive of his job was that he finally got to know THE Steve Harrington, who worked in an ice cream parlor right across the bookstore where Eddie worked. And his silly crush on the boy got even bigger after he saw him in the ridiculous sailor uniform.

The two eventually became friends since they kept meeting outside during their breaks, when Eddie was going out to smoke and Steve just wanted a moment of peace and quiet.

And now Eddie had no idea if Steve was okay. He anxiously tried to keep up with the news, relieved not to see Steve and Robin's names among the victims of the fire, but they just kept adding more and more names with each report. And Eddie couldn't take it anymore.

....

Hearing someone knock on the door, Steve got roused from his half-asleep state. He tried to sit up as slowly as possible, but the dizzines hit him anyway, making him want to lay back down and stay there forever. But the knocking continued, so he eventually managed to drag himself to the hall to open the door.

As soon as he opened it, he got blinded by the bright light outside. Inside the house, he had all the blinds pulled to block out the light that was making his headache worse. And right now, he felt as if someone set his brain on fire.

“Steve?” he heard someone call in a concerned tone. He couldn't see the person but he recognized their voice. Eddie.

“What happened to you? Holy shit. Who did this?” Eddie questioned.

Steve just stood there, trying to come up with some story, but his head refused to cooperate.

“I- I just- it's nothing, I just-” he stuttered

“Yeah, it's totally nothing,” Eddie mocked. “Come on, let me... Let me help you.”

Before Steve knew, he got grabbed by the shoulder and led back to the living room.

“Sit down,” Eddie instructed in a soft tone. “Just tell me where you keep your... medical stuff,” he requested.

“Oh, it's in the...”

Wait, where? What was even the question?

“Okay, nevermind, I'll handle this,” Eddie decided. “Just stay here. I'll be right back,” he assured.

For the next ten minutes, Steve could hear him bustling about. Wait, why was he here again? What was he doing?

But Steve couldn't really be bothered to worry about it right now because his head started to feel heavy again and he had to lay down.

Next thing he knew, there was something cold on his face. It was a sudden sensation, but it felt good. It eased the pain a bit.

“Hey there,” someone spoke. Ah, right, it's Eddie, Steve realized, he's here for some reason. “Can you hear me?”

“Mhm,” Steve mumbled in response.

“Good,” Eddie whispered. “Look, I brought you paracetamol, but you need to sit up for a moment, okay? I'll help you,” he offered.

Before Steve could say anything, he felt a hand slide under his back and slowly lift him into a seated position.

“Here,” Eddie spoke, handing Steve a pill.

Steve looked up at him in confusion.

“It will help your pain,” Eddie explained.

Oh, yeah, right, Steve remembered. Eddie gave him the pill and then helped him drink some water, holding the glass for him.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” Eddie asked, helping Steve lay back down.

“Just... stay,” Steve replied.

“Of course,” Eddie replied. He grabbed Steve's hand and started rubbing it gently with his thumb. “I'll be right here.”