#implied robin buckley

[inthedarknessofnight]

I watched The Holdovers for the first time over the holidays (loved it btw), and for some reason I've also been getting flashbacks to last year when I basically devoured The Secret History and If We Were Villains back to back... And because I have this little devil on my shoulder constantly telling me to Steddie-fy everything, my brain immediately went like, ‘but what if Steve and Eddie both ended up stuck at their college campus over winter break.’ Consider this my pathetic attempt at their little forced-proximity romance story.

So, without further ado, I give you... Part 1

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Steve Harrington leaned out of his dorm room window, filling his lungs with the chilly air of a New Hampshire winter morning. Underneath him, the courtyard was brimming with students scurrying left and right, bags of various shapes and sizes slung over their shoulders, and even an occasional suitcase being dragged through the wet slush that covered the paved pathways, courtesy of last night’s snowstorm. Lively chatter echoed off the walls of the residence halls enclosing the courtyard, as his fellow students tried to squeeze in as many well-wishes, festive greetings, and goodbyes as they could, before their designated rides took them to whichever overpriced holiday destination their families chose this year. Steve tried his best to avoid getting too morose about it all, focusing on fumbling around his jacket pocket for a cigarette and lighter. He knew Patrick, their resident assistant, would have been on his ass before he even drew the first breath, but to everyone’s great surprise, he’d started his holiday a week early, prompting Steve and pretty much every other person in the building to take up smoking out of the window.

As soon as the first plume of smoke hit his lungs, Steve could feel the negative thoughts trickling away. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back, and exhaled, savouring the moment. Unfortunately, his moment of bliss was short-lived, as Tommy Hagan barged into his room in his usual fashion—without so much as a knock.

“Harrington! You trying to get sent home or something?” Tommy asked, an annoying smirk stretching across his face.

“Fuck you, Hagan. I’m not that stupid, okay? RA’s gone, it’s basically a free-for-all over here,” Steve replied nonchalantly and leaned out again, taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Alright, alright, we get it, Henderson Hall’s the coolest. Unless y’all burn it down,” Tommy clicked his tongue, “then, probably not so much,” he delivered what, Steve could only assume, was supposed to be the punchline. When Tommy realised Steve wasn’t going to deign that with a response, he merely scoffed and continued.

“So, hey. I thought I’d check if you’ve changed your mind about that ski trip? I know you said you wanted to stay here, catch up on whatever crap you’ve got going on with that ridiculous degree of yours, but…” Steve glanced over his shoulder just in time to see Tommy quirk an eyebrow at him suggestively. “Well, Carol stayed at that same place with her family last year, and according to her, they have a sauna and, like, a bunch of hot tubs. And, umm… Tammy will be there, if you know what I mean,” Tommy winked at him.

Steve wasn’t entirely sure what kind of reaction Tommy expected from him, especially since he’d never really had a thing for Tammy beyond them hooking up a few times during their first year of college. In fact, he had no intention of going on that trip if Phoebe Cates herself walked in and personally offered him daily blowjobs. But he couldn’t exactly look Tommy in the eye and say, ‘Funny story—I got into a fight with my dad because he’s being an asshole, and now he’s refusing to give me any more money unless I come home and talk it through with him in person’. Instead, it was easier to turn around, face Tommy, and say…

“Nah, man. Already told my parents I can’t come to Cancun with them, because I need to study or I might fail and waste three years’ worth of their precious investments in my education,” which they didn’t even approve of in the first place, Steve finished the sentence in the privacy of his own mind. “They’d probably skin me alive if they found out I blew them off just so I could run off with you guys.” At least he didn’t have to lie about that last part.

“Dude, aren’t you, like, majoring in philosophy, or some shit? I thought you guys just sit around and talk all day,” Tommy scoffed. Philosophy and drama, actually, Steve thought, but knew all too well the addition would do little to help his case, so he didn’t bother correcting him.

“Yeah, well… Apparently, you have to have at least some idea what you’re talking about before you get to ‘just sit and talk,’” Steve countered. “But, hey, for all it’s worth, I really appreciate the offer, man. You enjoy that sauna for the both of us, okay?” He threw Tommy a wink, which immediately caused him to cringe internally. Tommy, resigned to being unable to persuade him, simply shook his head and shrugged.

“I don’t get you man but, uh, suit yourself,” Tommy said after a brief moment of consideration and gave Steve a dismissive wave. “Have a good one. I’ll see you after break, Harrington,” he added before promptly turning his back to Steve and exiting the room.

With Tommy gone, Steve felt like he could finally breathe again. The feeling didn’t last, though. A cold breeze blew through the open window, bringing with it a familiar feeling of loneliness that always settled deep inside his bones. Steve knew all too well the feeling had nothing to do with a little movement of air. Because it felt more like an old wound reopening. Because maybe it’s always been here, Steve admitted quietly. Etched into his skin. Blended into his marrow. Flowing through him like blood through his veins. It was the kind of cold he couldn’t just close a window on, no matter how hard he tried. Instead, he opted to close the one in front of him, making sure to stub out the cigarette he’d left burning on the windowsill before lowering the window pane and twisting the handle. He leaned his forearms on the inner ledge and rested his forehead against the cool glass. It was only a few weeks. He could do this. After all, he was used to empty rooms and haunted halls—these just happened to be slightly bigger empty rooms and haunted halls. Right?

—

Steve Harrington had never been more wrong. By the time day three of his self-imposed exile rolled around, he was fairly certain he was losing his mind. The worst thing was, he couldn’t do anything about it.

The first weekend passed with little fanfare, the campus growing quieter with each passing day. From Monday morning onwards, the whole thing was practically haunted. In fact, Steve was the only occupant left in Henderson Hall, barring some guy in the room down the hall from him. Steve didn’t really know him, but he was pretty sure he was a Music major—a suspicion the asshole happily confirmed by treating the seemingly empty dorm to a full-on concert in the middle of the night. When Steve ran into him in the dorm’s communal kitchen the following morning, the guy looked startled by his presence at first, then simply offered Steve an apologetic smile and mumbled something under his breath before darting out. Great, Steve thought to himself and slumped against and empty chair at the dining table. He was already well on the way to going batshit crazy, and now, his only company was the dorm’s resident weirdo. To be fair, there were at least two other people on campus that he was presently aware of, down the road in Mayfield Hall: a girl from the languages department he knew from Mrs. Click’s first-year rhetoric class, but wasn’t exactly on speaking terms with, and a girl he was pretty sure was in the Dance program, since they’d attended a movement class together the previous year. He’d noticed the former while out on one of his regular morning runs, catching sight of her just as she slipped on a particularly nasty patch of the frozen path, landing gracelessly on her backside. He went off course to help her and make sure she was okay, but she merely levelled him with a deadly stare. That was all the encouragement Steve needed to get the hell out of there.

With no company to save him from boredom and distract him from the gnawing sense of loneliness, Steve kept busy as best as he could. He even came to consider the dining hall being closed for the holidays a small mercy, as he occupied himself with planning his meals and taking the time to prepare them. On Tuesday, he made the short, fifteen-minute drive to the nearest town and bought a week’s worth of groceries, in case the weather prevented him from being able to make that trip again in the coming days. Steve was happy to find the fridge in the communal kitchen nice and empty for once—well, except for a frankly impressive supply of beer, which he could only assume belonged to the other remaining resident. 

Speaking of the rather unusual fellow—they’d started to develop a sort of quiet camaraderie, the two of them. They would usually bump into each other at lunchtime and again at dinnertime, and once Steve had been able to let go of the resentment he held towards his fellow resident, for the little nocturnal performance he put on the first night, they’d even gone as far as greeting each other.

“Hey, man,” the other guy would say, as he leisurely strolled into the kitchen, normally around noon, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

“Hi,” Steve would reply, giving a quick nod and small smile.

And that’s essentially how the entire first week of winter break went by. Slowly, Steve began to find comfort in the little routine they’d established. In a way, it soothed the ache inside him, to know that, without fail, his weird neighbour would always wake up way too late and meet him in the kitchen at mealtime to exchange a greeting or two. The guy had even taken to hovering there while Steve finished whatever dish he was making that day, and Steve was surprised at how quickly he became used to his quiet company (and Steve was applying this term liberally, by the way, since the guy clearly found it impossible to move around without making an array of random sounds). But despite how strange he was, Steve found his presence oddly calming, if not comforting. It also gave Steve a little insight into his habits, which were no less strange than the man himself. Over time, Steve noticed the guy seemingly lived on nothing but Cheerios, beer, and the occasional microwave meal. It made Steve wonder how the hell he was still alive—or how he managed to keep such a slender physique. Not that he’d been paying much attention to said physique, of course. Steve guessed he was just one of those people who lucked out with their metabolism. Still, he couldn’t help but feel the man’s curious gaze on him every time he saw Steve crafting his next meal. It even got to the point where Steve was half-convinced he could hear the guy sniffing the air as soon as he walked into the kitchen at mealtime, but whenever Steve glanced over his shoulder to check for proof, the other man immediately corrected himself, pretending to be occupied with with trivial tasks, like pouring more milk into his already full bowl of cereal. 

Steve found it sort of endearing—and, if he was being totally honest, it filled him with a sense of pride, to see another person react to his cooking that way. He loved cooking. Hell, he loved cooking for other people even more than he did himself, even if that opportunity rarely presented itself. True, he’d gained his cooking skills mainly out of necessity, having to take care of himself from a young age, but he knew not everyone grew up with a fully stocked pantry and the same resources and tools he had at his disposal. Who was he to assume that hadn’t been the case for his mysterious roomie? At the end of the day, even if he turned out to be too lazy to cook, it wouldn’t kill Steve to toss a double portion of spaghetti into the water and add a bit more tomato purée to his sauce—it would still be the most nutritious meal the guy’s had in days. If nothing else, you’ll gain a new friend and maybe you won’t have to do this alone, his brain supplied. Steve pushed the thought to the back of his mind. 

Emboldened by his newfound purpose, Steve put down the book he’d been trying to get through for the past week and made it for the kitchen. If he was lucky, he still had about two hours before his neighbour got up, which should give Steve enough time to have the sauce ready by the time the guy walked into the kitchen. At 12.30 pm, like clockwork, a familiar mop of curly hair peeked through kitchen door.

“Hey, man,” the guy said, his voice still groggy. Steve smiled to himself. He was nothing if not consistent. Not wanting to spook him by being too forthcoming, Steve stirred the sauce a few more times, then turned to face the guy fully and opted for one of his warmer smiles, as he said, “Hi.”

In his sleep-addled state, he didn’t seem to suspect that anything was out of the ordinary. Steve watched him go through his usual routine of dumping a bunch of cereal into a bowl and retrieving the milk from the fridge. He sat down at the opposite side of the dining table, facing Steve, and moved to pour the milk over his cereal. Steve couldn’t, in good conscience, let him ruin a perfectly good bowl of cereal if he decided to accept his offer (he was decidedly not getting ahead of himself just there), so he figured now was as good a time as any to speak up.

“You do realise you can’t keep eating cereal every day for the next three weeks, right?” Steve said, making sure to keep his tone light and playful. The last thing he wanted was for the guy to think he was judging his eating habits. He set the timer for the spaghetti, then leaned against the counter next to the stove and crossed his arms. Across from him, the poor guy seemed to have stopped dead in his tracks, still holding his milk at an angle. Confusion was clearly written all over his face, as he grappled with the fact that Steve had just addressed him directly. He looked up at Steve from beneath his messy fringe, big brown eyes slowly traveling upward until they were level with Steve’s, unsure whether he was allowed to look or not. It crossed Steve’s mind that he looked every bit like a frightened young deer, and he had to mentally stop himself from letting out a laugh.

“Umm… sorry?” His eyes darted confusedly between Steve and the offending bowl of cereal in front of him. “I didn’t realise there were rules about this stuff,” he said, though his tone wasn’t defensive. His voice was soft and shy, almost apologetic, and Steve immediately regretted his choice of words.

“No, shit… Sorry, man, I didn’t mean it like that,” Steve chuckled, desperately trying to salvage the longest conversation he’d had in days. “It’s just that, well, I can see you obviously really enjoy those,” he quickly motioned to the box of Cheerios on the table, “and, I mean, not to yuck your yum, but they really don’t make for the most nutritious meal. Wouldn’t want the rest of this dorm to come back to the smell of a rotting corpse because you, like, dropped dead of malnutrition or something, you know?” Oh god, what was he even saying?! Nice, Harrington, real nice. Idiot.

Too busy chastising himself for the word vomit he’d just unleashed on this random dude, Steve registered somewhat belatedly that the guy was now laughing, his shoulders shaking with mirth. Steve couldn’t help the expression of pleasant surprise creeping onto his face, as he watched the other man come down from his fit of laugher. He was now beaming at Steve, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how he had one of those smiles that light up a person’s entire face.

“Well, it does sound kind of grim when you put it like that, but what can I say?” He plucked a single Cheerio from the bowl and held it up close to his face, as if to examine it. “What you sacrifice on nutrition, you save on money.” Then, with a quick flick of the wrist, he tossed the Cheerio into the air, caught it in his mouth, and flashed Steve a triumphant grin. Steve chuckled, giving him a quick round of applause, to which the guy responded with an exaggerated bow. And if Steve found himself somewhat surprised at how quickly he was warming up to his new roommate, nobody needed to know.

Despite the cheerful nature of the encounter so far, Steve couldn’t help but feel a little guilty after hearing the guy explain his peculiar diet. Here he was with half the grocery store at his disposal, while, across from him, sat a guy forced to live on the same kind of cereal, meal after meal, for the sake of being frugal. He could imagine how difficult it must be to feed yourself on a budget when you don’t have the knowledge or skills to cook in the first place. The sound of his timer jolted Steve out of his thoughts, and he turned back to the stove to check if the spaghetti were cooked. He manoeuvred a single piece of pasta out of the water, blew on it a couple of times, grabbed it with his thumb and index finger, then tipped his head back and lowered it into his open mouth, blissfully unaware of a pair of brown eyes trying their best to look at anything other than Steve. After giving them a few more stirs, he strained the spaghetti in the kitchen sink, then paused for a moment, pretending to deliberate, the guy’s gaze still fixed on him. Before he could overthink it, he turned to face him again.

“Listen, you can totally say no if you want, but I think just made way too much spaghetti for one person. Would you like some?” He heard the guy take a breath, preparing to say something, then remembered. “Oh, and I have this sauce too, by the way,” he quickly added, taking the pot with the sauce off the stove and bringing it towards the other man. Steve tipped the pot slightly, trying to show him what’s inside, nearly causing a bulk of it to spill over the edge. He then realised the contents in the pot were essentially liquid and he probably shouldn’t have been doing that, which prompted him to a curse under his breath and carefully set the pot back on the stove. The guy, clearly amused by the whole display, just giggled and Steve had to take that as a win, even if he ended up rejecting his offer of a warm meal. To his credit, the guy seemed to weigh the idea carefully for a moment. All of a sudden, it looked like something clicked in his brain, and he offered Steve a lopsided smile.

“Well, then, if there really is sauce involved, I don’t see how I could possibly refuse.”

It took Steve a little while to register that he was, in fact, not being rejected, but as soon as he did, he couldn't help the way his face lit up, not caring anymore if he came across as overeager. He snapped his fingers and made finger guns at the guy, clearly high on some kind of playful energy the exchange had incited in him.

“Alrighty then,” he said cheerfully, turning to plate their meal, trying his best to ignore the warmth spreading through his chest as he looked down at the result. Two plates.

Steve carried both plates and some cutlery to the table, setting one plate in front of his guest, who followed the motion with fervent fixation. He thought the guy might actually start drooling if he didn’t get to dig into his meal soon. As Steve plopped into the chair across from him, though, he was struck with the realisation that they were about to have their first meal together, yet didn’t even know each other’s names. He cleared his throat and extended his hand towards the stranger.

“Oh, sorry—I'm Steve, by the way. Steve Harrington.”

His companion broke out of his daze, beaming fondly at Steve as he firmly grasped the offered hand.

“Nice to meet you, Steve. Steve Harrington. I’m Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

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Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it ☺️ Just fyi, I don't have this whole thing written yet, so I'll be posting it in parts here, on Tumblr, until I do, and then once it's been edited a bit and given a title, I'll probably put it up on ao3 as a longer oneshot. I'll make sure to reblog with the first part every time I post a new one, and I'll also link all the previous parts, so don't worry! It's gonna be so so cute and I'm so excited to share this story with you guys. Check in to see what the boys will get up to next!

[morganbritton132]

Eddie comes out to Steve. Kinda just blurts it out and then looks like he’s going to have a panic attack so Steve steps in like, “Hey, now. That’s okay. I’m not, like homophobic. My best friend is gay.”

“Robin is gay?!”

Steve takes a step back because, yeah. You can’t do that. You can’t tell people about other people, right? So, “N-no. A different friend.”

“You only have one friend.”

“I have other friends!”

“Dustin?” He asks. “Dustin’s gay?”

You know, what?

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Yeah, totally. Don’t tell him I told you. Ever.”

[sir3n-s]

Steve knew that one day he wouldn't be able to refuse to play dnd. 

Especially since he was now dating a dragons master or whatever it's called. He can't keep up with all the names. 

And don't get him wrong Eddie is great and dnd sounds sort of interesting but he's been against playing for so long he doesn't want to give up the act. 

But he if was going to give up the act he was going to get something in return. 

The kids were all gathered at Steve's house for a movie night. 

They had 2 different kinds of movie night, one where they all actually watched movies and the other where the movie was just there for background noise while everyone either talked or worked on something.

Tonight Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin were making character sheets for Eddie's new campaign while trying to get Steve to join as well. 

"Just play one campaign" Dustin whined for the 20th time that night. And probably the 100th time in his life. 

"Are you ever going to let this go?" 

"No! You have to play one now that you're dating Eddie. Aren't couples supposed to try out each other's hobbies?" He got him there.

"He's got a point Stevie," Eddie says finally engaging in the conversation after being glued to the TV. Despite the volume being low he was still watching it with intense interest. 

"You're right, couples should try each other's hobbies" Steve agreed. 

"Uh oh," Robin says without looking up from the puzzle she was going with Nancy, knowing what he was going to say next since he ran his plan through her first.

"I will play a campaign but!" He says before the kids could get too excited, "you all have to play basketball with me" 

They all groaned. Except Lucas who was completely fine with this arrangement.

-

It was Saturday and they were all at basketball court in the park. Most of them were wearing their gym clothes. 

Except for Lucas and Steve who actually had basketball jerseys. 

Max and el were also playing since they wanted to join despite the fact they won't play dnd either. 

And who was he to say no to them? The more the merrier.

Robin and Nancy were sitting at the bench in the shade, Robin saying she refuses to play a sport because she's too clumsy and Nancy saying Robin shouldn't have to sit alone. But Steve knows they just want to talk shit about them. 

He wasnt going to stop them, he knew it was a lost cause to try to get them to join as well. 

The only rule they had before playing was that Steve and Lucas couldn't be on the same team, 'it wouldn't be fair' Dustin said and everyone else agreed. Even Robin and Nancy. 

So they ended up being the team captainsin on each team. 

Steve's team was Max, Mike, and El while Lucas had Will, Dustin, and Eddie. 

And it was going well! Better than Steve thought it would. Especially with how unathletic most of them were. 

Steves team was winng, and despite Dustin whinning about how it was because Steve was older and had more experience he hasn't even made all the points. 

He did score the first point but El scored the last 2. 

It's was 3 to 1. The only point they had was from Lucas. Eddie couldn't throw for shit, Dustin kept dropping the ball, and Will was actually doing pretty well but was kinda being ignored because Lucas and Dustin wouldn't stop arguing.

He can tell eddie was getting annoyed with having to constantly break up their fights.

Their team only needed one more point to win and Mike had the ball.

"Pass it to me!" He yells towards Mike and he does pass it to him. Just way too hard. 

Because it goes past his hands and right towardd his face. Smacking him hard in the nose and knocking him over. 

He hears everyone gasp as he groans on the ground.

He heard the tapping of people feet on concrete, and on grass, get close to him. 

"Holy fuck are you okay?" Despite his eyes being closed he can easily tell that's Eddie's voice.

"Damn Mike why did you throw it so hard" he hears max says. He also hears a light punch but doesn't comment on it this time.

"I didnt mean to!" 

"I'm okay" Steve says while getting up, grabbing his nose when he felt something on his lip. Blood, of course.

"That would've been a great throw if I was a little bit farther from you," he says towards Mike as Eddie helps him off the floor and leads him to the bench despite saying he was okay to keep playing.

Everyone gather arounds him as El hands him some of the napkins she keeps in her pocket.

"If this is how you all act everytime someone gets hurt it's going to get extremely annoying as we keep playing" Everyone makes weird faces, except for Robin who was grinning.

And Nancy because Robin definitely told her. 

He smiles. "You guys are going to want me to play more than one campaign, so you will all be playing more games of basketball."

While Lucas smiled, everyone else groaned.

[wheneverfeasible]

A Birthday Miracle

wc: 2.3k || rating: T || cw: child neglect, period typical misogyny and homophobia || tags: Steve Harrington has bad parents, platonic Stobin, implied future Steddie || brief summary: Steve’s birthday is December 25th and is always ignored, until Robin gets him a birthday present. || ao3

Steve, much to the disappointment of everyone, was born on Christmas Day.

Over the years, Steve learned to ignore his birthday. Despite what others may believe, he never received double the presents any year, and in fact by the time he was thirteen was just given a lump of cash and told to buy his own present. The Harringtons were far too busy planning their annual Christmas party, something that Steve’s birth had put a delay in that first year and which had never been forgiven.

It wasn’t that his birthday was ignored completely of course. At least not always. It just never was acknowledged on his actual birthday. As he got older, he might have done something with Tommy and Carol during the winter break, but they always had plans with their families on Christmas Day for obvious reasons. Even when he started dating Nancy, family took precedence over a boyfriend’s birthday.

Steve’s Christmas was always very simple. Wake up and get dressed in an outfit that his mother approved of, take posed photos in front of the wrapped but empty boxes before the tree, be handed his envelope of cash, and then make himself scarce as the caterers began arriving.

It was the winter of ‘85 when something different happened.

Steve was in his room, outfit for the Christmas party (different from the outfit he wore for the morning pictures) hanging from his bedroom door, something he would have to change into soon actually. Instead, he was laid starfished on his bed, staring up at his ceiling with that familiar sense of apathy regarding the day.

A few days previously the group had had their own little Christmas party, something where they wore casual clothes or even just their pajamas, crowding into the Sinclair basement to exchange gifts and share (kid friendly) eggnog and cider.

Steve had even managed to get Jonathan to take a special picture of the Scoops Troop, feeling more at ease with his arms around the people he rode an elevator to hell with than he knew he would in a few days in his own home. Erica had protested, but her grin was a little too genuine to make it anything more than a token attempt to remain aloof. Steve knew that feeling well.

So really, Steve had been expecting much the same as every previous year. He would attend his parents’ party just long enough to be the proper, well-behaved son, then he would escape with whatever leftovers he could pilfer from the caterers (they usually made him a plate) and sneak back into his bedroom to wait things out. Tomorrow, he might try to see if anyone wants to hang.

At least, that was the expectation.

Plink!

A small furrow etched into Steve’s brow at the soft noise, turning his head towards the shuttered blinds of his window. It had been a sound he was familiar with, just never on this end of things. When a soft thud came next, Steve let out a small snort and rolled off his bed, moving towards the window to pull open the blinds and look outside.

Robin Buckley had her arm arched back, a look of concentration on her face as she stood on the back patio, and even from this distance Steve could tell she had her tongue poking out slightly as she squinted one eye to make her shot. It explained why the previous one missed the mark and hit the siding by the sound of it.

Robin’s face lit up when she saw Steve, causing a flare of warmth to spread through Steve’s chest. He’d known the strange girl for half of a year and he’d be lying if he didn’t say it was the best six months of his life. Sure, the start of their genuine friendship had come about because of some crazy Russian scientists, an alternate dimension full of monsters, and a bit of physical and psychological torture, but all of that was worth it to be best friends with one Robin Buckley.

Still, he huffed faux annoyance at her, pointing at her through the window pane until she shrugged unrepentantly but dropped the small rock she’d been about to throw all the same. He hesitated only a brief moment before he mimed at her to head towards the basement garage, causing her to grin again and flash him two thumbs up.

A small bit of hushed bickering, sneaking around the caterers and decorators getting the place ready, and avoiding his parents ended with the two of them stumbling through the doorway of his bedroom with muffled giggles. Steve quickly shut and locked his door, turning to give Robin a fondly exasperated look as she began perusing his bedroom.

She’d been there before, of course, but less than a handful of times. He could see the way her gaze paused as it took it in the swimsuit model poster, grinning at her when she suddenly hurriedly looked away with a blush. She scowled at him, but he was glad that she no longer looked hesitant when he was reminded of the fact that she liked boobies.

Of course, it wasn’t really something he ever forgot, but he was glad that she felt safe with him. Felt like she could be herself without fear of retaliation. Sure, he could acknowledge that he still had a bit of a crush on her, but that was his problem, not hers. And he loved her more like a platonic best friend than he did as a silly crush.

“What are you even doing here? Don’t you have family visiting from out of town?” he asked with a shake of his head. They had already exchanged Christmas presents at the Sinclairs’, and they were more than likely going to meet up tomorrow after whatever family shit Robin had.

Robin rolled her eyes. “I told them I had somewhere important to be but that I’d be back in time for dinner.” She slid off her backpack she was wearing to rifle around until she pulled out…a lumpy package wrapped in white wrapping paper designed with balloons in rainbow colors. A big yellow bow was taped to the top.

“Happy birthday!” Robin exclaimed with a grin, dropping the backpack to thrust the package—the gift out towards Steve.

Steve physically startled at the exclamation, his mouth dropping into an ‘o’ of surprise as he took in the present that looked nothing like a Christmas present. No, he could see in between the balloons small script that repeated happy birthday! amidst tiny confetti bursts.

“Wh-what?” he gaped, certain he had misheard in some way.

Rolling her eyes again, Robin closed the distance and pushed the gift into Steve’s hands. “I said, ‘Happy birthday,’ dingus,” she laughed.

“But…you already got me a present,” Steve pointed out, because she’d just bought him Freddie Mercury’s new solo album Mr. Bad Guy for Christmas, which was perhaps one of the best if not the best presents he had ever received.

“I got you a Christmas present. This is your birthday present,” Robin stated like that should have been obvious.

Oh.

Steve’s fingers tightened on the present, the wrapping paper crinkling under his grip. There was a suspicious burning behind his eyes, but his father had told him only girls and queers cried, so he blinked rapidly for a moment to rein it all back in. It was just…

He couldn’t really remember ever receiving just a regular birthday present. Even by his friends. Tommy and Carol had always said their gift was a little bigger because it was for both, and even Nancy hadn’t really done separate gifts the one Christmas they were together. It was just never something he ever expected.

Yet here was Robin, his best friend, leaving her family on Christmas just to wish him a happy birthday and give him an honest to god birthday present. He swallowed thickly, more than just incredibly touched.

Before, he might not have said anything. Before, he might have just laughed it off and opened the present and been secretly grateful that someone had thought of him. But this was Robin.

Robin.

His best friend. God, he loved her. It didn’t matter if it was only platonic (with a capital P at that); it didn’t make it any less profound or true. He loved her. He didn’t think he had ever loved anyone as much as he loved her. Even back when they had bickered all the time at Scoops, there had been something there. He had just confused it for something else at first.

But they had clicked immediately, even back then. Even back when Robin had still thought him the same asshole he’d been back in high school, and potentially homophobic. Even she couldn’t deny that. Like they were meant to find each other. He just wished they had found each other a lot sooner.

But then, he hadn’t been that great of a person back then too. Maybe they found each other exactly when they meant to, like the universe just knew.

“No one…no one’s ever gotten me a birthday present before,” he softly admitted. “Not just a birthday present, I mean. Not one that wasn’t also a Christmas present.”

Robin’s gaze softened, and almost like they were reading each other’s mind, they reached out at the same time to grasp each other by the elbow in a gentle cradle. She didn’t look at him with pity, however. She knew that wasn’t what he needed.

“Well, of course I would be the one to do it first, dingus,” she lightly teased, squeezing his elbow briefly before letting him grasp his present with both hands again. “You’re my dingus. I love you,” she softly added, and the words helped heal that crack inside him that wondered if maybe he was still unworthy of love, just like it did every time she uttered those words.

“I love you too,” he replied, just like he always did. They didn’t say the words often, but they never let them go unanswered.

Robin grinned at him then, and it was that same grin as in the bathroom, when they suddenly knew that they had found their other half after all. “Open your birthday gift, Stevie,” she chided, spinning around to find the edge of the bed before plopping down with a clap of her hands.

“Dork,” he scoffed, but it was full of affection. He knew he was just as much of a dork. They both knew it, truly. He grinned down at the birthday gift in his hands, taking a deep breath before ripping the paper away.

“Bucky, you didn’t,” he gasped, his grin growing as he looked up at his best friend who was grinning back.

“It took ages to find the right one,” she confessed. “I made my mom take me all over for it.”

Steve hurriedly pulled the red puffer vest from the rest of the wrapping paper, careful not to drop the small toy figure resting on top. This? This right here? Christ, he had thought the album Robin had gotten him for Christmas had been the best present ever, but this certainly took the cake.

“Oh!” Robin exclaimed, and then like she could read Steve’s mind again, she was once more diving for her backpack. She pulled out a small cardboard box from the bakery downtown, followed by a blue candle.

“I don’t have a lighter,” she said apologetically as she opened the lid of the box to reveal a cupcake that was a little worse for wear from being in her bag, but still noticeably a cupcake. That she stuck the candle in. “But I know that you do, so hand it over and let’s light it up.”

Steve felt that burn behind his eyes again. A birthday present, one that symbolized something so important to them, and a birthday cake. On his actual birthday. He had never loved Robin as much as he did in that moment.

Huffing a small laugh that was only slightly wet, Steve carefully moved to set the little packed figure on his desk, propped up against his bowling pin he’d stolen with Tommy one year, and found his lighter to hand off to Robin.

“Happy birthday to you,” Robin started singing as soon as she had the candle lit, holding the box up with both hands. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear dingus. Happy birthday to you. And many mooooore…” Robin’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Make a wish, Stevie.”

What more could he possibly wish for when he had the best friend he could ever hope for giving him the one thing he’d never had before?

I wish for Robin to get all the happiness and love that she deserves, he decided, wishing for that with all his heart, and then he leaned forward and blew out the candle.

Next year, after the earthquakes, his parents canceled their Christmas party for the first time in two decades. They were done with Hawkins, they decided. And Hawkins, or at least the people in it important to Steve, were done with them too.

Steve’s friends convinced their parents to celebrate Christmas the day before, allowing them to throw Steve his first ever actual birthday party whose sole focus was just him.

But if Steve used the opportunity of a stray piece of mistletoe still hanging from the Munsons’ new house to kiss the boy he had a crush on, well, he just considered that his birthday present to himself.

After that, Steve never had to spend a birthday alone again, or have it ignored, even when they celebrated Christmas that day too. With one arm wrapped around his Platonic soulmate and one arm wrapped around the man of his dreams, Steve knew that he had somehow found the happiness and love he deserved too.

And it was the best birthday present he could have ever wished for.

~

Hostage Hotties (open):

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes @lawrencebshoggoth

[imfinereallyy]

hummingbirds

Steve’s crying on the porch of his parents' house, with a duffel bag and baseball bat, when Eddie pulls into the driveway.

“Jesus, Steve, what happened?” Eddie crouches down to get eye level with Steve. Despite being dark out, the sun set long ago, and the outdoor lights weren’t on. Steve turns to look at his parents' car in the driveway and thinks back to when the lock had distinctly turned shut on the front door. They were around to switch the lights on; they just didn’t care anymore to do so.

Steve is grateful for the moonlight, as he can see the pretty lines on Eddie’s face. Even if they currently curve into a frown.

“Hey Eds.” Steve’s voice cracks.

“Stevie…what happened?” Eddie asks again, this time it’s gently. It cradles Steve and holds him softly. He wishes Eddie’s hands would do the same.

“Did you know hummingbirds are the only birds that can fly backward?” Steve sniffles.

Eddie’s face scrunches in confusion, “What? Birds? You lost me.”

Steve pushes past Eddie’s confused face. “They are the only birds to fly backward. Surprisingly, it wasn’t Dustin to teach me that out of the munchkins. It was actually El. She’s apparently going through a bird phase. And I don’t think the others are very interested. So I try to pay attention when she talks about it. And she taught me about hummingbirds.”

Eddie settles on his knees, “That’s great, man and those little shits should listen to her more, but I’m not sure what that has to do with what’s wrong. You called me to come pick you up and hung up before I could even answer.”

Steve bites his lip, “Sorry, my dad clicked the phone off.” Eddie’s face shows surprise, but Steve keeps talking before he can interrupt. “And well, I guess hummingbirds have nothing to do with anything. It’s stupid, really.”

“No, no. It’s not stupid. Tell me about the birds, Stevie.” Eddie’s hand finally reaches out to Steve. He brushes the fallen hair out of his face, and something in Steve just sets him off.

“You see, they can fly backward. And well, no, I’m getting ahead of myself. You see, my cousin Tucker is here to visit. And let me tell you, he is the worst. Like Eddie, you would hate him. Conservative, capitalist enthusiast, real bootlicker kind of guy.”

“Sounds like the worst. Especially if he made you use the big words.” Eddie’s hand falls away, and Steve mourns the loss. Normally, when people make jokes about his intelligence, it stings. It makes him feel small. But when Eddie does it, it isn’t mean or a poke at how stupid Steve is. With Eddie, it’s almost like he’s reminding Steve that he is smart. That maybe Steve is the one making himself small.

He is.

“Anyway, he’s visiting, right? So my parents come home. And I haven’t seen them in months, since before spring break. It’s nearly October, and I haven’t seen them, and I can’t tell if I’m excited or dreading their arrival. It’s always a fight when they are around, how I’m not good enough, how I should be more. Their visits always end up being cut short, and me feeling like shit. But this stupid, stupid part of me was hoping it would be different this time. They haven’t seen me since the “earthquakes.” Surely they’ll be happy to see I’m okay, right?”

Eddie stays silent, his face revealing nothing.

“Of course, it’s not. They only came home because my cousin Tucker was in town. All the way from Indy cause it’s so far. And my mom ‘made’ dinner, as in she ordered it and pretended she made it. It wasn’t even that good, but we all pretended it was the best thing ever made. Cause that’s what they do, pretend. And the dinner is fine, boring. Most of it is just me staying silent while my dad and Tucker talk about the business. Tucker runs the Indy office while my dad is in New York. Ya see, Tucker has been gunning to take over for my dad when he retires, which is another word for dies—“ Steve let’s put a bitter laugh; he wonders if his parents are listening. He doubts it.

“—and they are going on for the whole meal, and I’m almost through the home stretch when my dad brings up me, coming to work for him.”

Eddie reacts finally, “You’re going to New York?” His voice is strained, like he is trying very hard not to yell, not at Steve, but at anyone who will listen. Steve is quick to correct.

“No, no, I’m not. This was news to me to Eds. I have no interest in my dad's business, and as far as I was concerned, he didn’t want me a part of it either. Guess that has changed. Has? Had? I don’t know…” Steve trails off.

“Harrington.”

“Don’t call me that. It makes me think you’re mad at me. Besides, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” Steve bites.

“Sorry, Steve. I’m not mad. I promise. Just, what do you mean?” Eddie’s head tilts to the side, his curls cascading down his shoulder. It reminds Steve of a river, dark water rippling in the moonlight.

“I was so shocked, Eds. When he said that. That I was quiet, I should have corrected him, maybe. Maybe I could have fixed it. But Tucker was so quick to act. He was pissed. He knows my working for my dad means me being set up to take over. And Tucker, he’s worked too hard to make sure he does get the business. But instead of yelling, he just gets this concerned look on his face. And he…”

“He what?”

Steve wrenches his eyes shut as he recalls the rest. As he recalls the way Tucker’s face faked worry as he struck. Like he has been waiting for the right moment to ruin Steve. He manages to open his eyes eventually, only to see Eddie’s face once again. The honest look on his face is enough to push Steve on.

“In the summer, Robin was feeling sad. This was before you guys knew about each other, and I was the only one who knew about her. And she was sad cause nothing had happened with Vicky and she felt so alone. And I hated seeing her like that. And so, so I took her to Indy. And, and—“ Steve starts to hyperventilate.

Eddie takes him by the shoulders. “Breathe for me, Steve. Come on, baby, match my breaths. It’s okay. It’s okay.”

Steve matches Eddie’s breath. Ignores how the word baby calms him down instantly. “Tucker told my dad that he saw me in Indy. That he saw me come out of a gay club, Eddie. And he went on about how they should focus more on getting me help, than putting me in a power position, again Eds, which I don’t even want! And how I would be a bad look for the company. How would it look if a company whose whole image is family values, only successor, turned out to be gay.”

Eddie flinches a bit, but doesn’t let go of him. Steve feels instant regret. “That isn’t what I meant, Eddie.”

Eddie shushes him, “I know, sweetheart. You’re just upset. I know. Did you tell him that you weren’t there for you? Or maybe that Rick was mistaken; it was a regular club?”

Steve rubs a hand down his face, “And what? Tell him that my two best friends in the entire world are gay? So that I can be shipped off to New York and never see them again? Yeah right. I’d rather face the bats again than be removed from you two. And I’m not going to out you guys like that.”

Something warm crosses Eddie’s face, “So, you lied then?”

“Before I could say anything my dad reacted.”

Eddie freezes, a darkness swims in his eyes. “He put his hands on you?”

“No, no!” Steve panics, and he purposely leaves out the ‘not this time.’ Eddie isn’t necessarily a violent person. But he does have a protective streak. As admirable as it is, Steve doesn’t want him to get hurt.

Eddie relaxes but only slightly.

“He was actually pretty calm, which is even more terrifying. I expected him to yell, throw things. But instead he just turns and says, ‘Is this true, Steven?’. And what gets me is they didn’t even question why my cousin was anywhere near that club in the first place. Why did he see me there? Instead, he just asks me if it’s true. And it’s the first time in a long time, if ever, that my dad asks me this. He always just assumes I’ve fucked up. And this time, he really asked me about the truth. And I couldn’t, I couldn’t lie. I don’t know why, but it felt wrong to. So I didn’t. I just told him, ‘Yes. It’s true.’”

“Stevie…”

Steve throws out a bitter laugh, “And you know what? He still doesn’t freak out. He just tells me I have five minutes to get my shit and get out. That I needed to call a ride because the car was under the name Steve Harrington, and I was no longer a Harrington. And he was so calm. And my mom just sat there, and I just listened. I didn’t fight. I am so tired of fighting.”

“Steve, why not just tell them the truth? Tell them you were there for a friend?” Eddie’s tone isn’t scolding, only curious.

“See, that’s because I started thinking about hummingbirds, Eddie. I started thinking about how they fly forwards and backward and how they are the only ones that can do that. Isn’t that fascinating? These small birds are so strong and interesting, and can do something no one else can do. But no other birds understand; the rest of them just fly forwards Eds. And I—I feel like that sometimes. That I’m not flying in one direction, ya know?”

Steve feels like he isn’t making much sense, but then Eddie nods and looks at Steve. Like really looks at Steve, and sees him. And Steve feels raw, stripped of his skin, exposed, and it should hurt, but it feels so fucking good. And Eddie stares deep into Steve’s eyes and says, “Yea, I know.”

“I didn’t want to lie. Because even though Tucker was wrong, he was also right. I wasn’t there for me, but I think I needed to be there. To get it. And I think that I’m flying backward, Eds. And I’m worried it’s wrong of me, that it shouldn’t be allowed. And that there is no purpose to me flying backward if I can just go forwards. If I can just fly with the rest of them. But I don’t think, I don’t think I’ve ever really taken flight before. Not before I understood I could also go backward.”

It’s in this moment, where Steve is covered in tears and snot that Eddie finally takes his hands and cradles Steve’s face. Steve’s never felt safer.

“Listen to me, sweetheart; there is nothing wrong with you. Okay? Nothing wrong with you. Just because you can fly forwards doesn’t mean you have to, doesn’t mean you should. Sometimes you’re going to have to fly backward; you’re not going to have a choice. It’s just the direction you’re fast, huge, hummingbird heart takes you. And it might take you a bit to learn that. To understand that, but I will make sure that you do. Because you, Steve Harrington, are fucking fearless and fucking beautiful, and I am so goddamn proud of you.”

Steve finally reaches his breaking point and collapses in Eddie’s arms. Full body, ugly sobs wreck Steve. He is sure that he is soaking Eddie’s favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt to the bone, but he can’t find it himself to care. His fingers dig into Eddie’s back as he clutches tighter as his breathing picks up.

“Breathe, baby, breathe. Remember that. I got you. I got you.” Eddie whispers into Steve’s ear.

Steve picks his head up when he finally calms down, and looks at Eddie. “You.”

“What’s that?” Eddie says softly, rubbing circles through Steve’s polo.

“I called you. Because, I think—no, I know, that I’ve been flying backward, to you. For a while now. And I knew that, even if you weren’t too, you’d still show up. And I just—just need you to know that. I am so grateful you showed up.”

Steve knows he should feel nervous telling Eddie all this, but he isn’t. He strangely feels like his dad at this moment, calm and unmoving. Steve doesn’t understand many things in this world, but he understands that even if Eddie doesn’t love him like that, Eddie still loves Steve in plenty of other ways.

It’s still nice, though, when Eddie leans forward and kisses Steve’s forehead. Steve closes his eyes and releases a breath.

Eddie slides his head down slightly so their foreheads are pushed together affectionately. “Stevie, I’ll always fly backward to you.”

Although it’s awful how they got here, Steve can’t help but feel happy at this moment. He also can’t help the silly giggle that comes out of him, “I think we have just lost all meaning to this metaphor at this point.”

Eddie snorts, “Oh, have we? And here I thought we were having a nice moment, a poetic one at that, telling each other ‘I love you.’”

Steve blinks at him, “You love me?”

Eddie frown lines finally turn upwards, “Yea baby, I love you.”

“I—“

Eddie cuts Steve off. “Tell me in the morning. When your tears have dried, and I’ve woken up with you in my arms. I want to hear it in the daylight. Okay? Let’s go home.” Eddie stands, offering a hand to Steve.

“Home?”

“Yea home, got to fly back to our nest.”

Steve can’t help the snort he releases, “Dork.”

Eddie just smiles, “Thought I told you to save the ‘I love you’ til the morning.”

Steve smiles back as he takes Eddie’s hand, “I didn’t…”

Eddie squeezes Steve’s fingers, “Yea, ya did.”

****

I’m back, not dead, and in my feelings. Thinking about expanding on this one. I hope you guys like it. 🧡🧡

[deadgirlhawkins]

Ed & Rob play dress up!

thank you @unsettlingg for the suggestion 💋⭐️

[stevie-petey]

dibs

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors.  “One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another.  They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

Summary: do the laws of dibs still apply if steve and robin see you at the same time ???

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n

Words: 1.4k

Before you swing in: this is for my beloved val (@southelroy), and i was so excited to try my hand at writing robin and steve together <3 this is a very silly fic, not at all meant to be realistic or serious, and it isnt proofread so pls enjoy n beware !

-

According to the ancient rules of “dibs”, the first person who sees the desired one has the rightful claim of dibs. Anyone else present during this time must obey this sacred rule, respecting the fact that the other has laid claim first. It’s an old, ancient tradition, held up for centuries through faithful friendships. 

It’s a solid system, really.

Except Steve and Robin see you walk into Family Video on the same day, at the same time, together. 

You walk in, hair slightly wet from the rain and your eyes bright, and smile at the two of them shyly. Setting down your umbrella, you unbutton your raincoat and look around the store. “Sorry, is it okay if I hide out in here for a bit? My umbrella broke and I really don’t feel like catching a cold.”

Steve and Robin stare at you, wide eyed and in shock. They’ve never seen you before, they surely would’ve remembered your face if they had, and their brains short circuit simultaneously. 

When they don’t say anything, you cautiously walk up to the counter and laugh nervously. “Uh, hello? I can leave, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”

“No!” Steve shouts, panicked that the word “leave” has left your very pretty and pink mouth. When you flinch at his raised voice, he quickly clears his throat and lowers his voice. “I–uh, I mean… No, no. You can stay–please! I mean, if you don’t mind, ‘cause, ya know, it’s raining–”

“What my coworker here is trying to say is that you can definitely stay.” Robin interrupts, admiring the way the raindrops in your hair seem to form a halo. “In fact, why don’t you have a look around? We have plenty of movies.”

You smile at Robin, which she practically melts seeing. “Thanks, you guys are lifesavers. I’m here visiting my cousin, and he said I should stop by anyways.”

“What, do we know him?” Steve asks, finally finding his voice again. 

“His name is Dustin Henderson, if that helps. He’s a freshman at Hawkins, said he stops here sometimes–”

“Dustin Henderson is your cousin?” Steve and Robin say at the same time, completely taken aback. 

You laugh. “Ya know, I’ve gotten that a lot since being in Hawkins. I take it he’s well known?”

“Oh, he’s definitely well known.” Robin snorts, thinking about how many people would scream at the idea of more Hendersons running around the world. 

But if they’re anything like you, then Robin thinks she’d love to be invited to a Henderson family reunion. Immediately. 

“Well,” you smile again at the two teens, amused by their weird dynamic. You can see why Dustin likes them so much. “Since I’m stuck here for a while and I promised Dustin I’d get a movie, I’m gonna take a look around as suggested.”

You pause, now realizing you haven’t asked for their names, and you gasp. “I’m so sorry! What are your names? I feel horrible for not even asking.”

“You could never do any wrong,” Steve sighs dreamily, leaning against the counter in what he hopes is a cool looking pose. “I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

He sticks his hand out for you to shake, which you accept with a slight giggle. He’s odd, but incredibly endearing even if he’s currently standing against the counter like a middle-aged man. “I’m Y/N Henderson.” 

Robin, sensing what Steve is trying to do, hip checks the boy so that he falls onto the ground. “And I’m Robin Buckley, the better half of this duo.”

Like hell she’s going to allow him to flirt with you. 

Her declaration makes you laugh, even as poor Steve groans on the floor in pain. You wink at her, amused by her charm, and start to walk towards the movie aisles. “Oh, I believe that.”

Steve scrambles back up, and the second you’re out of earshot, he and Robin immediately shout at the same time, “Dibs!”

“Jinx!” Again, they say this at the same time. They both groan, and without any other words, they jump into an intense game of rock, paper, scissors. 

“One, two, three!” Steve holds out a rock, Robin does as well, and the two teens almost strangle one another. 

They try again, this time they both land on paper, and Robin throws her head back in frustration. “I’m not good at math, but this cannot be statistically possible.”

“Okay, let’s think about this.” Steve holds a finger up to indicate that he’s speaking, which Robin scoffs at. “I saw her first, so–”

“Uh, news flash, dingus: I saw her first.”

“Were you dropped as a child? I clearly saw her first–”

“Actually,” your voice causes both Robin and Steve to turn in horror, realizing too late that you’ve been standing behind them, listening in. “You both saw me at the same time, so I’m not sure how the rule of dibs applies here.”

“We…” Steve gapes at you, speechless. 

Robin is no better, her face burns horribly. “We think… You’re pretty?”

“Well, I gathered that much.” You laugh again, and the sound is enough for both Steve and Robin to forget all their worries and admire how delicate it is. Then, holding up two dvd’s, you place them on the counter. “I’ll take these, please.”

Robin looks down at your movie selection, seeing The Breakfast Club and The Outsiders, and her heart drops. “Just… Just these?”

“Mhm,” you nod, unsure why her demeanor has suddenly changed. “Is there something wrong with my movie selection?”

Steve looks at Robin and he knows immediately what’s wrong. She absolutely hates your taste in movies, which he’s ecstatic over. He lets out a whoop and first bumps the air. “Yes! She’s mine!”

“Shut up, you moron!” Robin screeches, embarrassed and infuriated. She cannot believe that this is happening to her right now, in front of a very pretty girl, no less. Closing her eyes, Robin takes a deep breath and turns to you. “Please excuse my friend, he’s allergic to pretty girls.”

“Hey, that’s not true–”

You cross your arms at Robin, an amused smile on your face. “What’s so wrong with my taste in movies?”

“Nothing!” When you raise your eyebrow at her, Robin accepts her fate and gives in. She knows she’s done for now. “It’s just… It’s incredibly bland.”

“I happen to think your taste is impeccable, Y/N.” Steve butts in, batting his eyelashes at you for added effect.

Robin watches, with pure disgust, as it works. Steve’s charm gets you to laugh once more, and you even lean closer to his side of the counter. You place a hand on his arm. “I’m honored to have you on my side, then.”

Stupid Harrington and his stupid male species. 

While you and Steve exchange gross lovey-dovey glances, Robin rings up your movie rentals with disdain. 

“That will be $5.25, please.” She mumbles, crestfallen. 

You tear your eyes away from Steve’s and notice the jealousy and hurt on Robin’s face. You frown, feeling bad for being the cause of this. She seems like a sweet girl, and Dustin spoke highly of her, so you know she’s someone special. Taking some cash out of your purse, you hand it to Robin and catch her eye. 

“Hey, listen to me real quick.” Robin looks up, despite not wanting to, but your eyes are too pretty not to look into. When you have her attention, you turn to Steve. “Can you give us a second?”

He looks bewildered. “What? Why?”

“If you leave now, I’ll give you my number.”

“Yes ma’am!” Steve hops over the counter and goes to sort some movies, leaving you alone with Robin. 

Once he’s gone, you lean in close to her. “I understand what you’re going through.”

Her eyes widen, terrified she’s been caught. “W–what? No, I think you’ve gotten this all wrong–”

“It’s okay,” you grab her hand, gently take it between yours. “We’re more alike than you may think, and while I’m flattered, you’re too young.”

Robin knows she should be devastated by this, but all she hears is, “So… Let’s say ten years from now, if you happen to visit Dustin again…”

You laugh, she’s got such a spark to her. “You’ll have to figure out the whole ‘dibs’ thing by then with Steve.”

“I saw you first!” Steve shouts from somewhere in the aisles, before a giant crash follows. A few seconds pass, and then, much quieter this time, he shouts, “I’m fine!”

-

⌑ writing masterlist

[eddiethebrave]

🩷 part six

one two three four five

466 words

Stevie wraps her arms around herself to fend off the cold as she walks up to her front door. She feels the loss of Eddie’s arms like the loss of a limb. 

Only after she’s getting out of the shower does she get the text she’d been waiting on from Robin.

everyone got home ok im spending the night at nancy’s  #slumberparty wait is it still a slumber party if there’s only two of us or is that just a sleepover stevie answer me it’s important

Stevie smiles down at her phone and shakes her head in amusement as she replies.

two ppl does not a slumber party make buckley #sleepover

She climbs into bed and her phone pings with another message. This one has a photo attached. It’s a photo of Robin in Nancy’s bed with the girl in question tucked snugly under her chin. Robin’s wearing a goofy smile and Stevie rolls her eyes in fondness at the caption. 

#sleepover

Stevie hearts the image and plugs her phone in for the night. She assumes that’ll be the last of the messages and settles herself into bed. She’s just about to slip her glasses off and cut the light when her phone lights up again.

She considers leaving it for the morning but decides against it. She’s never been good about not responding to messages right away. 

oh my god i almost forgot look at this loser this is approximately ten seconds after you got out of the car btw

The photo attachment takes a moment to pop up and Stevie curiously waits. When it’s finally revealed, she feels her face heat up. She’s alone in her room so she doesn’t bother trying to tamp down a goofy smile of her own. 

The photo is from Robin’s vantage point in the front passenger seat. She has her phone pointed toward the back, where Eddie sits with his arms crossed and his plump lips pulled down at the corners in a pout with his eyes trained at his lap. Stevie clicks on the image to get a closer look and that’s when she realizes it’s a live photo. 

She holds her thumb down and the image comes to life. She watches in amusement as Eddie’s head snaps up when the flash goes off. He has this deer in the headlights look on his face and his cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink almost alarmingly fast. Just as he opens his mouth to presumably scold Robin, the moment freezes. 

Stevie watches it six more times before shamelessly saving it to her camera roll and swiping back to her and Robin’s messages. 

aw leave him alone :(( …also ty for the pic 🩷

Robin responds immediately.

yeah yeah we all know i’m the best best friend ever

seven

taglist

@jaytriesstrangerthings @wheneverfeasible @chameleonhair @yesdangerpls @sadisticaltarts

@sofadofax @yearningagain @ollyxar @tinyplanet95 @theseaofdespair

@croatoan-like-its-hot @estrellami-1 @anaibis @crayonboxcolors607 @noahdeawesome

@themoonagainstmers @quevadilla @lil-gremlin-things

sorry if i missed anyone!

[fandoms-in-law]

Lips

Summary: Steve asks Robin her opinion after getting distracted by his reflection at work. It leads to her being the supportive best friend over his crush.

Author's note: My brain is tired, the prompt I had for today was a bunch of words from loveheart sweets. It happened is all I can say.

~

“Do I have hot lips?” Steve asked one quiet afternoon at Family Video. He’d been looking at his reflection in the window instead of hoping to see customers coming in.

Robin gave him an odd look, “I don’t know what that means.”

“Are my lips hot?” He repeated, “Attractive? Sexy? The alluring pout boys go crazy for?”

She shook her head, “Lips aren’t hot. Smiles are cute and actions made with a mouth can be hot but I refuse to believe hot lips exist unless burnt or covered with like chilli or hot sauce to make them feel like they’re burning.”

“So my lips aren’t hot?” He pouted at her.

Robin nodded resolutely, “Nobody’s are.”

Steve crossed his arms, huffing a little, “I think Eddie’s are when he’s quiet.”

She threw up her arms, moving to tidy the shelves. “I give in. Go and ask him!”

“You’re letting me leave work early?” He smirked at her, turning around.

“No! You’re on till until the end of the day.” Robin clicked towards it, laughing at his groan.

~

Robin had noticed the comment earlier on, but decided not to question it while they were in the shop. It wasn’t a good place to bring up the subject when too many people could overhear. Now they were at his home she had to ask, “So Eddie’s lips? You’ve noticed them before?”

“Haven’t you? They’re hot and gorgeous.” Steve agreed. “Why is that interesting?”

“Pretty sure we could ask everyone we know and they wouldn’t agree.” She stated, “Also because it’s nice to hear you talking about one person you like rather than vague attributes. It’s got to be my turn to tease you over a crush now.”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Really? Can’t I just be happy to have something that stands half a chance of happening for a while?”

“You entirely can be happy, but best friend rights say I can tease.” She agreed cheerfully, “Cause that’s what real love is.”

Playfully frustrated, he nodded, “Fine.”

~

“Maybe I should try playing DnD with them,” Steve muttered, waving the party out of Family Video. “Casually spend more time with Eddie that way.”

Robin scoffed, “Casually play DnD? You? Dream on Steve, none of them would be casual about that, and only Henderson knows you’ve even tried playing. It’d be major drama and all of Eddie’s friends would be suspicious of it.”

“What do you suggest then? I can’t hope for another town disaster to casually fold clothes next to my crush like you and Vickie.” He complained.

She thought for a moment, before gesturing, “Use that empty house of yours to advantage. Let them play there. You heard the brats say they’re having trouble arranging it since the school isn’t letting any clubs run while rebuilding work is happening.”

“Now who’s dreaming? If my parents get wind of that then I’ll be looking for somewhere new to live, not just a place to play a game.”

“And you’ll live with me. Besides, that’d require them actually coming back to the town they barely set foot in even before the ‘natural disasters’.” Robin pointed out easily.

~

The Corroded Coffin boys looked at Robin in confusion when she opened the door, getting shoved aside a moment later by Dustin who rolled his eyes when seeing the cause for the delay. “Come on, I want to get set up.” He called vanishing into Steve’s house.

“What’re you doing here, Buckley?” Gareth asked cautiously, taking slow steps as he entered the house, looking around as if expecting someone to attack him.

“It’s my besties home so I’m gonna be here whoever he’s got hanging out.” She simply explained. “Steve’ll be your waitress today. You know the rest of your roles. Anyone need a tour?”

The men shared a glance before following her through a little less cautiously.

~

They had a sleepover after the DnD had ended and everyone had gone home, collapsing together onto Steve’s bed, Robin curling into his side.

“Are you still teasing me about the new crush or can I ask you to be kind now?” Steve spoke quietly into the dark.

Robin had insisted they could talk better without lights on and it had actually become truth from the amount of times they’d done it. She didn’t try to turn and look at him, just made a quiet affirming noise.

He took a deep breath, “Do you think I actually could ask Eddie out? That he might agree if I do it right?”

“I think that if you just be you, he’ll be leaping at any chance to date you offer.” She answered slowly. “He’s always been pretty open about being queer and definitely flirts with you. Don’t change though. That’s one of the things people back off from when you do it. Just be you.”

“I can try that. What’d I do without you?” He sounded thoughtful, and horribly sentimental.

Robin nudged him gently, “Same answer, you’d just be you, lonely, stressed, babysitter you.”

“Hey!” He tickled her side in a short burst in retaliation for the tease. “I’m glad I’m not lonely when I’m just me with you.”

“Me too.”

[dreamsteddie]

Who Will Catch Me When You're Gone?

Content Tags: Platonic Sobin, major character death, grief, depression, major character undeath

Inspired by this beautiful art by @tarraing

------

When they found Steve, broken and bloody and scraped raw from the bats, all Robin could think about was that Steve's favorite sweatpants were ruined. She'd never understood those things or how someone so obsessed with fashion could wear them, but he'd always loved how comfortable they were. She razzes him about it every time he wears them.

Now they're ruined. Dirty and ripped.

She can hear Nancy ordering them to help her and Eddie freaking out but it's all just white noise to her right up until the moment everything comes flooding back in and the world has never been louder. Her breathing is deafening like she's trying to breathe for both of them.

Steve isn't breathing.

Steve isn't breathing but somehow she still is.

One moment she's stuck watching Nancy Wheeler try to patch her soulmate back together the next she's doing it for her so Nancy can start CPR. Eddie has stopped freaking out, she is dimly aware of him standing behind her, hovering because he doesn't know how to help. Doesn't know if there's any way to help.

Robin knows she's talking but it doesn't matter what she's saying. She doesn't think Steve can hear her. How could anything she says matter when her best friend isn't there to hear it? But she can't make herself stop, just in case.

But Steve never hears her. Nancy pushes on his chest and forces air into his lungs until her arms are shaking and she doesn't have enough strength to move his chest anymore. Then Robin takes over even though she has no idea what she's doing. Even though Nancy and Eddie are trying to tell her it's no use, that they need to go.

Like she could leave him here.

Then she's kicking and screaming because they're trying to pull her away. She's biting down on Eddie's ringed hand and kicking out into Nancy's ribs. She's not leaving, she's not. She can't do that to Steve, would rather lie down next to him, take his hand, and let the bats find her than leave him behind.

The last thing she sees before someone knocks her in the head is Steve's eyes, open and empty and staring right at her.

------

When Robin wakes up she's surrounded by people, but no one says a thing. She sees Dustin, red-eyed and empty standing in a corner across from the couch she's been placed on. Max won't look at her, Erica is glued to her side, Eddie looks lost, Lucas is trying to keep a siff upper lip for his sister, and Nancy looks like a block of steel. Steve isn't anywhere to be found.

But then again, Robin knew that. She'd know if Steve was her because their hearts beat as one, but now her chest feels empty. It's Max, brave, scared Max, who breaks the silence. Robin doesn't hear it. Doesn't listen as people start explaining plans around them. Can't channel the righteous fury she sees in Nancy and Max, or the barely concealed fear in Eddie and Erica, or the building weight of responsibility growing in Lucas and Dustin's too old eyes. All she feels is empty.

She's going to do whatever they want her to do because she knows it's what Steve would do. Knows without a shadow of a doubt that if she was the one lying dead in the Upside Down he would be on a war path in her name, so she needs to do the same.

When she launches that last fire bomb into Vecna's ugly head, it's a hollow victory.

Everyone else survives. The Byers move back to Hawkins. The town starts to rebuild. The big bad is gone for good.

But it doesn't mean anything to her. She lies in bed most days without saying a word. She lets her parents dote on her, listens passively as they try to remind her of the college acceptance letters waiting for her on the kitchen counter. Manages to sit up and smile just a little when Eddie brings Dustin and Erica by to see her. Cries with the two of them tucked under her arms, all three of them aware of how vulnerable they feel without a strong pair of arms wrapped around their other side.

Robin asks Eddie to hang back one day and makes a request. The next day he comes by with a clean needle and a pot of ink and Robin sits motionless as he engraves a sunflower inner her wrist, somewhere she'll always be able to see it.

She always swore to Steve that she would never get a tattoo, too freaked out by the possibility of an infection, but those fears feel so distant now that the worst thing that could happen has come to pass.

She catches Eddie with one of his own to match the next week.

------

A month goes by. She doesn't leave the house, even when Dustin comes by to beg her.

Then two. She can tell her parents are starting to really worry. They've given up trying to get her to think about college and started trying to get her to think about therapy.

Then Five. She started going to work again. She puts on her Family Video vest and thinks about Steve. She walks through the door and imagines Steve leaning over the counter. Keith turns on Back to the Future and she goes home with a panic attack. She doesn't speak unless it's necessary, but she's trying to move forward. She knows it's what Steve would want for her, even on the days when it's not what she wants for herself.

And then Six months pass.

There's a tap at her window.

She ignores it, at first. She refuses to go to a shrink, there are too many things she can't say to the ones her parents recommend, and she won't accept anything from those government goons who turned her best friend into a soldier. Into cannon fodder. Instead, she writes letters.

She sits down at her desk once a day and pours her heart out to Steve. She lets herself pretend for a few moments every day that he's just been dragged away by his parents for a few months. He's out there somewhere in the world, relying on her to keep her updated on the kids and the drama at work and herself until she can go out and join him, wherever he is. Some days she writes about nothing at all, some days she rages at him for leaving her behind, sometimes she speculates about their future, where she goes to college wherever he is, and they get an apartment and two dogs. She seals every one in an envelope, tucks them in a drawer, and lets herself breathe in that perfect fantasy for just a moment. It's the best part of her day, and nothing can tear her away from it.

Except the tapping doesn't stop.

And Robin lives on the second floor.

And everyone she knows would just come through the front door.

She turns, so slowly, toward the window. The glare from her bedside lamp makes it impossible to see anything through it, but she doesn't need to.

There are fingers, claws, forcing their way under the sill. She sucks in a sharp breath as they curl upward, crashes to the ground as they start to pull.

She's scrambling back, getting ready to scream and make a run for the walkie she leaves on silent on her desk to call for help. To warn the others that their monsters are back before it mows her down.

But then the window gives way and she stops. Stops everything.

Because the thing in her window is wearing her best friend's face. It's wearing his hair and his moles and his stupid fucking sweatpants.

And at the end of the day it doesn't actually matter what he looks like. It doesn't matter if there are new hinges in his jaw to show off new, shark-like teeth. It doesn't matter mater if he can't say anything besides a hissed, garbled rendition of her name. It doesn't even matter when he latches onto her wrist, right above that little sunflower, and sucks, taking just enough blood to make her light-headed.

Because she can feel his heartbeat pounding along with her own, perfectly in sync.

Because she's not alone, anymore.

[amidnightjen]

“What’s wrong with him?” Robin asked, the second she was in the car because the glare from the backseat burned.

Steve, who had become accustomed to the way Dustin was trying to set him on fire with eyes burning into the back of his head said, “He walked in on me and Eddie - ”

“He what?!”

“ - making breakfast,” Steve finished, ignoring Robin’s shrieked interruption.

“He what?” Her question was in a much more level (and confused) tone this time, as she twisted in her seat, first to look at Steve and then into the backseat where Dustin had his arms crossed and was glaring at Steve as though he’d done something world-ending and not just been in his kitchen making eggs.

“It’s not about the breakfast!” Dustin snapped from the backseat. “It’s what the breakfast implied!”

Robin looked to Steve, eyebrows raised but Steve looked just as confused as she felt. Steve made breakfast all the time, he made breakfast for her all the time. Well, when she could get away with staying at his place without her parents making a thing of it. Hell, she knew he’d made Dustin breakfast before, made Max and Lucas and Erica breakfast before. There was nothing weird about Steve making breakfast, they’d all crashed at his house before.

“How does breakfast imply anything?” She mused.

“It’s not about the breakfast!” Dustin screeched.

“Henderson,” Steve snapped, annoyed that he was yelling at Robin now too.

“You told me you were busy last night because you had a date,” Dustin snapped.

“I did have a date,” Steve confirmed.

“With Eddie!” Dustin shrieked.

“What?!” Now it was Robin’s turn to shriek - the betrayal! How could Steve go on a date with Eddie and not tell her? “You had a date with Eddie?”

“No!” Steve yelled. Then, more calmly, because he wasn’t sure why they were all yelling - or why Robin would believe he’d go on a date with Eddie in the first place, “I did not go on a date with Eddie, he came over after.”

“Oh.” Dustin deflated. “Sorry.” Then under his breath he muttered, “Thank god.”

And now Robin was glaring at Dustin, “What’s that supposed to mean?” She shot him a sharp look. “Dustin Henderson, are you being homophobic?”

“What?” Dustin sounded confused. “No.”

“So you just have a problem with Steve dating men?”

“What? Steve doesn’t even like men!” Dustin complained.

“You don’t know that,” Robbin snapped, just - apparently - to be contrary because Dustin did know that and so did Robin but she’d been thrown by Dustin’s horror at the very idea that Steve had gone on a date with Eddie.

(Steve was getting a headache.)

“Steve does not like men,” Steve informed them both.

“Ew, he just talked about himself in third person.”

“Steve does like a man,” he carried on as though he hadn’t been interrupted - again.

“What?!”

Steve shrugged. “Have you met Eddie?”

“What?!”

“I mean, Dustin wasn’t exactly wrong?”

“WHAT?!”

[morganbritton132]

Dustin posts a Tiktok of the party as they wait for everybody to show up for a Hellfire campaign but focuses in on a conversation happening in the kitchen. You can hear Steve say, “-believe it because Erica said it. She’s never wrong.”

Robin, picking the m&ms out of trail mix: I don’t know, she did want to drink that green sludge that dissolved concrete

Steve: That was before we knew it could do that and later that same day she called Murray a bald bastard. He was bald and he was a bastard. It cancels itself out.

Eddie: The first time I met her, she called me a long haired freak.

Steve: That’s the description I’d give the police if you ever went missing

Lucas: She calls me the family disappointment

Steve:

Steve, with that smile where he’s going to say something mean and is sorry about it: There’s only two of you, Lucas.

[little-bumblebeeee]

oh you write Steve and Robin as friends who only kinda tolerate each other and Robin has no interest in Steve's hobbies and they're only friends because they're traumabonded? Oh... that's cool... anyways MY Steve sends Robin his noods so she can rate them on a scale of 1-10 before he sends them to Eddie

[wheneverfeasible]

link to prompt

~

Jim rubbed at his eyes which were pained in exhaustion, a headache blooming behind them. He released a heavy sigh before dropping his hand to stare at the nervous and embarrassed adventurer before him. He’d been advised against using the disgraced knight for the job, but Jim hadn’t been able to look past the man’s success rate.

Or the fact that he’d been the only volunteer to go up against the infamous demon lord who had been snatching up their virginal young women for whatever nefarious hell he was submitting them to in his lair.

“I sent you to slay the demon, not—”

“I brought Miss Buckley back!” Steve protested, hooking a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the most recent victim who looked just as put out as Jim did. Though she snorted when Steve hastily covered the gold on his hand with his other palm, while Jim just let out an aggravated sigh.

“To be fair, dingus, he was getting ready to toss me out anyways,” the young Buckley maiden pointed out. “Apparently he was getting tired of my ‘prattling,’” she scoffed at Jim, lifting her fingers in air quotes.

Steve shot her a dirty look. “Well I did convince him to let Lady Chrissy go, but she didn’t want to leave,” he huffed, as though offended at having his talents besmirched. As though the ring on his finger wasn’t mocking enough.

Jim let out another heavy sigh.

Steve turned back towards the warden of the realm with a small grimace. “Turns out Miss Holloway was taken by someone else too, Eddie said he didn’t tou—”

“Eddie?!”

Steve’s smile turned dopily fond, and Jim’s annoyance turned sharper when he heard three sets of giggles come from behind a nearby grate. He’d had to have another talk with the triplets (they weren’t really triplets, one being biologically his, one being from his wife’s first marriage, and one being adopted, but they certainly acted like it enough times) about eavesdropping on important business matters again.

“Yeah, Eddie,” Steve sighed like the lovesick. “He said he didn’t touch Miss Holloway, but he said he’d find her for you if you call off any more manhunts against him.”

“And I’m supposed to trust the word of a demon?” Jim scoffed.

“Hey! That’s my husband you’re talking about! I mean…oops,” Steve said with another embarrassed little smile.

Right. Jim had too much of a headache to continue these talks. He needed a stiff drink. Hopefully Benny didn’t mind opening the tavern’s bar a little earlier than normal today. He waved a dismissive hand, causing the man before him to grin.

“So I can go back to my honeymoon now?”

Jesus Christ. “Return with Lady Chrissy to collaborate your story, and your whatever has a deal,” Jim grumbled.

“Chrissy isn’t going to be too happy about that,” Robin muttered, but she walked up to Steve and gave him a grin. “Let’s go.”

“Robin, you can’t come with me,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah? Well who’s gonna keep Chrissy company while you let that drowned rat of a demon lord ravish your body?”

Steve’s face pinked up as the giggles in the grating turned to full fledged snickers. Yup. Jim was done and needed that drink immediately.

“OUT!” he bellowed, which his somehow successful hired hero and the demon’s latest victim seemed happy to do.

He was going to make Benny make that drink a double.

~

Hostage Hotties (open):

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @honeii-puff @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-wierdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes

[morganski-19]

The One with the Stolen Clothes

 Eddie walks into Steve and Robin’s apartment to bother them, because he’s bored, and Robin dramatically gasps. Then throws a ball of paper at Steve when he walks out of his bedroom.

“What the fuck was that for?” he asks, thoroughly confused.

Robin gestures over to Eddie with wide eyes. Steve raises an eyebrow, still confused. Eddie just looked between the two of them, trying to decipher what they are silently communicating. Robin rolls her eyes.

“Eddie, where did you get that shirt?”

Eddie glances down at his shirt, having just pulled it out of the laundry basket before walking over here. “The laundry basket on the couch. Why?”

“No, like what place?”

He shrugs. “Thrift store probably, I don’t listen to this bad, but the logo’s cool.”

Robin dramatically stands up. “I knew it. That’s my shirt.”

Eddie makes a confused face. “How would your shirt end up in my apartment?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “I think I know. Remember when you stayed over here a few nights ago, and you borrowed some of my clothes. You said that you would wash them and then return them, but never did. I’m pretty sure that was the shirt you borrowed.”

“Huh, guess so. Sorry Buck, I’ll have to wash it again before giving it back to you.”

“Yeah fine, whatever,” Robin groans.

Steve snaps, like he just made a big realization. “That’s why you threw the paper at me.”

“It always come back to you stealing shit out of my closet.”

“Not my fault you like to wear baggy shirts.”

“You still wear it even if it’s not baggy,” Robin raises her voice. “Half my closet is stuff that you stretched out.”

Steve huffs. “That is so not true. And you steal my shit all the time, it’s like our thing.”

“Not when you lend someone else my clothes,” she points to Eddie, bringing him back into this conversation. “And I don’t care if it’s not washed, I’d like it back.”

Eddie shrugs. “I’ll go change then.”

He leaves the apartment and returns to his own. Nancy giving him an odd look when he walks through the door.

“Is that you’re shirt?” Nancy asks, sitting at the kitchen table with her laptop.

“Apparently not. It’s Robin’s.” Eddie goes to his room to change, double checking that this shirt is actually his.

“How’d you end up with Robin’s shirt?” Nancy asks, turning her head to the hall when a loud scream is heard from the other apartment.

Eddie matches her expression, thinking it’s probably not a good idea to go over there again. “Steve accidentally lent it to me. Apparently, he steals her clothes a lot.”

Nancy hums. “Yeah, it’s been a problem for years. But she does it to. When I roomed with her in college, she would steal my sweatshirts all the time.”

“I’m still surprised you guys didn’t date back then. You practically were from the sound of it.” There’s another scream from the across the hall. “Should we intervene?”

“Nah, they’ll be fine. We probably would have dated in college if I knew I was bi back then. But I didn’t, so we sort of missed it.”

Eddie faces Nancy. “And now?”

“Now,” Nancy says, still facing the door. “Whatever we might have had back then is gone. Robin and I are just friends. All we’ll ever be.”

“Are you saying that because you believe it, or because you think Robin doesn’t like you back.”

“Because I believe it. What we have,” Nancy takes a deep breath. “I’d rather be her friend forever than risk losing her to some shitty breakup. I almost lost Steve when we broke up in college, and then Jonthan when we broke up two years ago. I got lucky twice, I’m not risking being lucky again.”

Eddie sits down next to Nancy at the table. “But are you really going to stop yourself from trying. Maybe this time, you won’t have to be lucky. Everything could work out.”

“Are you still holding yourself back after your dick head of an ex-boyfriend broke up on you?” Nancy asks already knowing the answer.

“Got me there. When did life get so complicated?”

Nancy huffs. “Life was so much easier when we were in high school. The biggest thing we had to worry about were classes and shitty after school jobs. Not this.”

“Remember that hiding spot we found in the library?”

“Yeah,” Nancy smiles. “Right behind the non-fiction isle by the teachers lounge. Everything felt better there.”

“Do you ever wish you could go back in time, just for life to feel simpler again? Or to change something in hopes it would make your future better.”

“Sometimes. I think if I did, the one thing I would change is us falling out of touch. Everything else, I think was just fine enough.”

Eddie plays with his rings. “I’m sorry that I stopped reaching out when you went off to school. Just felt like you didn’t need me anymore, with all your new college friends and classes and shit. You didn’t need me dragging you back to that town. You were so much better than them.”

“I’m sorry I let you. Wasn’t just you’re doing. I wanted to separate as much from home as possible, you just happened to be in the crossfire.”

Robin bursts through the apartment door, finding Eddie with a glare. “My shirt,” she demands.

“Right, here,” he tosses her the shirt and she leaves. “We really need to start locking that door.”

Nancy winces. “Yeah. Why’d Steve lend you the shirt anyway?”

“Not the reason you think. We were too high and tired to stand up fully, so he just let me stay over.”

“Damn, thought you two were done being stupid.”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, that’s not going to happen until you and Robin stop being stupid.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug

[psychotic-nonsense]

|| >

There's not much Steve remembers.

There's a group of people walking through the woods, some older, some teens. He's amongst them. The sky is too dark and the trees are too dead. His hands are tight, holding something close. There's an air of panic, stress, hurry, caution. A mistake was made, and they need to escape.

Then instincts flare and the trees descend on them. Sharp rushes of wind, the shrill shrieking of something otherworldly. There's teeth and sharp whips and screaming and gunshots.

Then the swirling mass parts and the shrieks turn human, and Steve remembers the visceral fear of seeing the mass separate. One half rises, carrying a flailing, manic figure, and no no no Robin please no not Robin please no me take me instead you bastards not Robin please no Robin Robin-

Then the other half descends, whips circle his wrists, and the ground falls beneath him. There's screaming behind and before him as the earth fades away, and it's a cruel parallel, floating when all he wants to do is sink.

Robin's thrashing, Steve's thrashing. Their weapons have no use here, where teeth and whips maul them. Amid the pain, all Steve can do is plead to Robin, to forgive, to hope, to fight.

Robin finds the weak spot first. A quick succession of blind swings, a fierce thrash of flailing limbs. The bats scare, release her. But they're too high. Steve feels his throat go coarse as he watches Robin crash into the dead forest below, unable to differentiate the snapping between bark and bone.

Steve finds it in him to copy the act, do the same. And somehow, it works. Somehow, he's weightless.

There's a fierce pressure and the first snap he remembers feeling both on and within his skin-

And Steve wakes up.

It's not sudden, it's gradual. He feels the pains within him slowly throb to life, rousing him from sleep like an anchor rising from the sea. His left hand feels thick, and there's a burning poker laying across his forehead. His jaw feels wrong, and his eye stings and throbs.

His other senses slowly begin to return as well. He's laying down, his head tilted to his left, a bit cramped in the space as something presses around his shoulders. The material he's on isn't very comfortable either, some parts stabbing into his back, and there's a crinkling sound every time he breathes. He hears the faint rippling of water, and somewhere out there, it rushes fast and hard.

It's hell to even think of doing it, but as Steve returns to reality, his instincts rise to the surface, and he knows he has to get up soon. So he opens his eyes. He fights the involuntary tears, wincing as the stinging worsens, then wincing further when his face crumbles in the looping pain.

Finally, he can see a little. Where he is, it's thankfully pretty dark, with only a faint golden glow illuminating the area around him. His eyes strain to see through the darkness past the range of the light-

And then Steve notices where he is. A boathouse. The boathouse. The same one from a night that feels like a lifetime ago, rather than a few weeks. The start of their worst journey, the beginning of a friendship that would grow just to rot into a sour mess of guilt and loneliness.

He's laying within the same boat too...

His eyes focus on some motion across from him. A table covered in a lump of tarps and ratty cloths, and atop it sleeps a figure. Her face is scrunched up in pain, a patch of bloody fabric covering her cheek. One leg has been removed of all clothes, the ankle wrapped and foot elevated. Steve knows her, and instinct briefly overpowers everything else.

"Robs?-" Steve cracks out, his voice sore and rough. His body tries to rise, moving habitually, and he barely rises onto his elbows before the world pounces on him again. It's so strong and he's so weak that he can't move more than the closing of his eyes and the falling of his chin to his chest, can't make a sound louder than a whimper.

Suddenly there's a noise, there's movement beside him. The light glows just a tough brighter, and there's a base warmth suddenly pulsing through his chest.

It's a person, shushing him. Their hand is resting softly on his back, simultaneously supporting him and urging him down.

"Please, stay. It is better for you to rest."

The voice speaks softer than Steve can remember, but he still knows it. It's monotone, sounds ghostly, faint, quiet in a way that has nothing to do with volume, but it's still familiar. Still brings the memories around Steve right into the present, takes him back to that corpse, makes the presence around him feel more melancholic than scary.

Which is funnily enough, even more terrifying.

Steve can't move, can't pull his sight up to face what can't be reality.

"Apologies for the location. We cannot stray too far from the Gates."

The monotone changes to sound almost apologetic, more real, more like what Steve has been craving. It's what finally makes him cave, to turn his eyes to face the impossible.

Who he sees, what he sees, both crushes and rises his hope. Because past everything before him - the inhuman glow, the calm, plain expression - he finds exactly what he's been fighting for.

"Eddie...?" Steve pleads.

The blank face falls, just slightly. Like it's guilty.

"I'm sorry. No. Not quite."

(cleaner version below)