#there is nothing more important than platonic stobin

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

steve having a cat that refuses to be touched by anyone but him (it tolerates robin by extension ofc bc it has accepted the reality that they’re a package deal), and eddie gets warned by the entire party that steve’s cat hates people who aren’t steve or robin. eddie’s fully prepared to get scratched the fuck up, but the cat’s almost as friendly with him as it is with steve. huh. weird.

meanwhile, steve’s poor cat is trying to figure out a way to get its owner to stop being so sad all the time, and when one of the strange people he spends time with makes steve smile, the cat is determined to keep him around at all costs.

[dreamofbecoming]

listen i know we all love steve “completely ignorant of queer culture to the point that bisexuality is a surprise” harrington being roasted and educated in turns by robin and eddie, yadda yadda, good stuff. i read “they made a horror version of rocky?” in a fic recently and cackled. also a big fan of “he knew he was bi from the start and just never talked about it” as a trope, love it excellent well done

but what about steve who realizes after starcourt that the most important person in his life now has this thing that’s a major part of her life that he knows nothing about, and what if he fucks it up? what if he says something ignorant or rude by accident, and hurts her? what if he loses her because he didn’t know the right thing to say? what if he can’t keep her safe because he doesn’t know what to look out for? absolutely fucking not, this steve says

and listen she’d never say anything, because she can tell that he can tell how much she likes teasing him and teaching him things, so he plays dumb, and she thinks it’s very sweet. but she notices when the zines she keeps under her bed that she buys at that one secret bookshop in indy when she can sneak away on family trips start going missing, always one at a time, and replaced in a few days with another disappearing. and she finds the new ones he must have gone to buy the weekend she was at her aunt’s house hidden in the back of his closet when she goes to steal one of his sweaters. and she notices when he slips more of her queerer movie recommendations into his personal take home pile rather than the movie night stack when he thinks she’s not looking.

she doesn’t notice when he drives to indianapolis after she tries to explain to him why she can’t just ask out a cute girl, tries to impress on him the fear attached to every moment of attraction that he simply has never had to feel, but later she finds a crumpled receipt from a diner in one of his jacket pockets when she’s looking for his keys, and the address is across the street from the bar the gorgeous woman at the bookstore told her about, the one she memorized the address of but hasn’t worked up the guts to think about visiting, and she knows he must have gone looking for a place like that, must have been trying to understand, must have been scoping it out to make sure it was somewhere she could feel safe, after she told him she never had.

so when eddie nearly pops a blood vessel when they clock each other and she mentions that steve is the only person she’s ever come out to before, her hackles come up. because she gets it, she does, he’s only known king steve until recently, so it makes sense that he would be afraid, be concerned for her safety.

but steve is her person, and no one- no one- has ever made her feel as protected or as cared for as he does. no one has ever tried as hard to understand her, no one has ever put so much work into making her feel safe and seen and loved. and she thinks maybe even if no one else ever does, that’s ok. because she has steve, and more importantly steve has her, and that means no one gets to question his ally credentials in her presence without a dressing down to remember, no matter how well they mean or how recently they helped save the world.

(and maybe she’s not as surprised as she could be when he figures out bisexuality all on his own, because she’s been reading all the same pamphlets he has, after all. and she’s seen the way he looks at eddie, i mean come on. maybe no one else has noticed, but then, nobody knows steve harrington like she does.)

[findafight]

QPR stobin in their forties, married since, like, '87, finding out about qpr language. They see someone mention it or just stuble upon it on the internet and go oh!! That's us! That's what we have! :) Because they're still involved with lgbtq activism, and are like oh!! These young people have words for what we are isn't that amazing!

I think Robin would find out that sometimes people call their queerplatonic partner "zucchinis" absolutely hilarious and never refer to Steve as anything else. He's her zucchini. Her sweet yam. Her pumpkin pie. Steve giggles at it and says "because we're fruity!"

They don't get divorced to get married to their romantic partners because that's a hassle and also they don't want to. What would happen to the children. To the cats. To the fish the cats long to eat that they are expressly forbidden from eating because their mother and father are cruel and deserve jail for a thousand years. They are each other's PERSON, no romantic relationship will change that. This causes some stir when it's revealed Steve is Eddie's partner and also Steve has a wife. Eddie Munson, beloved queer metalhead/rocker is a homewrecker?? They try to explain! They do!

Steve is like 'okay well we were best friends and soulmates and very queer in the 80's it was just easier to get married especially seeing as I wanted my parents to have nothing to do with anything incase I died, so no brainer. We already lived together, it didn't really change anything except we were able to adopt!" "But don't you want to marry someone you actually love?" "I love Robin more than anything else besides our children??" "Not...what about Eddie?" "Yeah I love him he's my partner. But I don't want to marry him I'm already married to Robin." "But you aren't in love with her" "not romantically no. We're what the kids call 'zucchinis'" "I'm sorry what" "zucchinis! It's what some people call a queerplatonic partner! Like, a life partner that isn't romantic but is still the most important person! Rob thinks it's a very funny name and I gotta say, with the unconventional nature of this type of relationship I agree it fits."

Steve gets on twitter and is like "sorry to everyone who doesn't understand platonically spending your whole life with someone but I'm different" and then logs tf off and lets people freak the hell out in the replies.

And Eddie is like yes my partner is married. No he's not cheating. Yes we were together when he got married. No I'm not jealous. Yes I knew he was getting married I know you know this I was the best man. No he's not getting a divorce to marry me now same sex marriage is legal. Yes I'm fine with it. No it's not a problem. Yes I understand ya'll don't get it. No I don't actually care you don't get it. Yes Robin and Steve are the most important person in each other's lives. No I'm not hurt by that they were like that when I met them. Yes I love him. No I'm not worried they're actually in a secret heterosexual relationship that's ridiculous and stupid this interview is over.

[steviewashere]

Nineteen and Learning How to Live

(also on ao3, rated M for below content warnings)

CW: Depression, Suicidal Thoughts, Referenced Suicide Attempt, Please Read With Caution (Nothing Graphic, But Still)

wc: 1,996, Steddie and Platonic Stobin Tags: Post Vecna, Post Canon, Post Season 4, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, A bit Dialogue Heavy, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, and so are Eddie and Robin, Steve Harrington-Centric

(This is entirely indulgent for myself. Based on a real experience, so please be kind. But I wanted to share this anyway because it feels important, y'know?)

-------- It’s the week before the 23rd of December, 1986. And both Robin and Eddie have noticed an odd shift in Steve’s demeanor. He’s gone from happy-go-lucky to sort of shut-in and quiet. Hushed behind his own hands. Dimmer and more tired in the eyes. Pallor, now that the winter weather has finally reached Indiana. Snowed in and bundled up. Barely answering the phone. Picking at his food or overeating, there’s no good in between for him. 

And, the real kicker, there’s no way for them to truly understand what’s happening.

They aren’t sure if this is all some everlasting effect from the Upside Down. From venturing into Vecna’s lair. Or the residuals of his high school days. There’s no rhyme or reason to it at all. And he won’t talk. Dodges questions. Sighing or huffing or—sometimes—growling. Like the words get stuck in his throat, begrudging his conversation, all together silencing whatever he wanted to say.

So they’ve learned to stop asking about it. They’ve learned to let him have his space. To let him shroud himself in the darkness of his bedroom, underneath a blanket that hasn’t been washed in a couple months, with a rat’s nest on his head, and cold to the touch skin that is always dotted in meticulous goosebumps—but he refuses to grow warmer.

They thought it was seasonal. At first, they thought it was seasonal.

Because people grow withdrawn when the sun disappears. Or when the sun sets earlier than you’re anticipating. That’s just a reasonable response. Robin and Eddie are able to understand that.

But they grow to realize that it’s not. It’s in waves. It’s during the summer and under a pollen filled spring sky and under the browning leaves of oak trees. It happens when they make jokes about touching death, intimately and cautiously. Or if they suggest hanging out at the quarry, sitting at the edge, looking out across the water, watching as the stars twinkle above them. Or when they look down at the water…Steve instinctively reaches out to stop them from bending forward. And he never lets them use his car to take them out there.

And he refuses to talk about it.

And so a week passes. And they’re two days away from Christmas. And he is getting stir crazy. Becoming restless. Growing uncomfortable.

He asks to go on multiple drives. He asks for the window to be rolled down so that the cold breeze brushes back his hair and tickles his face. He asks for them to be honest with him, “Am I a better person? I’m okay, right?”

They think it’s silly and it’s foolish and off putting. But they answer, truthfully, down to the very core of their souls as beings, “Yes, Steve. Yes, you are.” And he breathes out something like relief, growing lighter, brighter, easier.

But he keeps asking. And it’s every hour. And they’re all growing restless.

However, right before 11PM on the 23rd, Steve asks that they go out to the quarry. With no alcohol or weed or cigarettes. With a couple baggies of pretzel sticks and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. To look at the stars and see what the water is doing.

Eddie drives because Robin hasn’t learned yet and Steve is still hesitant about taking his own car. They wear big puffer jackets and mittens and heavy-duty snow boots and beanies that threaten to swallow their face. He’s the first one out. The last one to sit. And the first to break the silence.

Steve dangles his legs over the edge. His hands pressed tightly together between his thighs. Heaves a breath. And darts his eyes over the horizon line. Quietly, “Tonight’s important.” He’s sitting between Eddie and Robin. Looks at them for a mere second. “An anniversary, I guess.”

They hum.

Eddie chuckles. “I didn’t forget our anniversary, did I? Is it six months already?”

He shakes his head. “No,” he breathes, “but it’s important.”

“What’s important about tonight?” Robin asks.

“Just wait a bit,” Steve ominously says. “I don’t want to talk for a while.”

So they go back to silence. Not comfortable. Not uncomfortable. Somewhere between stagnant and anxious. With the weight of patient waiting and impatient questions. A taste of something solemn, yet something lively and meaningful.

They hold hands now. Robin’s mittens are blue with snowflakes dotted across the wool, tightened at her wrist. Eddie’s are black with red stripes, a hole at the tip of his left thumb. And Steve’s are a neutral grey—they’re still starchy and stiff, apparently new and never worn. His thumbs rub circles over the backs of Eddie and Robin’s hands. And he sighs reverently amongst them. And he’s smiling softly, almost proud, not far away, but rather present in the moment.

It’s silent. Though, the water ripples below them like a leaky faucet dripping into the still fill of a bathtub. Trees rustling around and overhead. Wind clipping at their cheeks, tinting their noses a dull and subtle pink. 

Eventually, Steve lets go. He lays his left hand over his thigh. The other hand digging around for something in one of the deep pockets of his jacket. And what he does produce is a small pocket knife. It glints in the minuscule amount of light surrounding them. The handle worn down from being held so many times. He’s looking down at it. Bouncing it in his grip, testing the weight, they assume. And his eyes dim the slightest, but not fading completely. His teeth chew at his bottom lip.

Robin wants to ask why he has that. Eddie wants to reach out and take it from him. They both move to do so, their hands creeping hesitantly towards Steve’s. But he shakes his head, minutely and trembling. His breath leaves him in a small, quaking huff. He swallows as if consuming a baseball.

“I used to—“ His voice cracks. Clears his throat. “I used to use this when I shotgunned beers back in high school,” he admits quietly. “When life was normal. And my parents constantly argued and I needed something to help me silence it all.”

Steve pulls his legs up, bending them so that his chin rests on his knees. Arms wrapping around them, the knife still in his grip, but not unfolded. “And then, 1983 happened. 1984. And I graduated in 1985.” His lips rub against his jeans. Closes his eyes. “Met you, Robin.” He turns his head towards her, but doesn’t stare. Doesn’t look. Doesn’t let her own eyes acknowledge him. “Thought that maybe my life was just going to be food service and people who couldn’t stand me. Which, I’d get, y’know?

“But the bad shit kept happening. And then we were working at Family Video. And I was losing my parents approval at an even faster rate, especially since college season was finally starting up. I was getting sidelined. Couldn’t find anybody to date me. I shouldn’t have felt so dejected about that, since I had just turned nineteen and the world doesn’t end when you’re nineteen, but.” His next sigh is forlorn. “But my world was small. And nothing was changing. And I was just…I was just the same person I’d always been.”

They scoot closer to him. The air is heavier. This is it, Robin thinks. The answer, Eddie knows.

“I wanted to be different. I wanted to be better. Good. Whatever,” Steve says. “But it just wasn’t happening. I couldn’t figure out why. I couldn’t understand why I was bothersome to my own family or why I was getting shoved off by Dustin or why nobody wanted me, romantically, platonically. It just didn’t make sense. And the confusion kept growing. Until I was—Until I could only be bitter and hateful and…sad about it.

“I just grew sad.”

He opens his eyes and looks out at the water again. His legs falling away so that he’s sitting criss-cross. And both of his hands hold the knife. Still folded.

“December of 1985 came. My parents weren’t coming home for Christmas. Everybody was busy. I was alone.” Steve sniffs. “I was alone in my house. With nowhere to go or anybody to really talk to. And I was alone with my thoughts. And I was going crazy with the need to do something. So I grabbed some essentials.

“Wallet. Keys. Light jacket. Beanie. This knife.” He holds it up. Staring. “Drove until I grew tired of being on the road. Led me out here.” He exhales a large breath. “I was alone. So I—I began to think about doing stupid things. Stupid selfish things, that’s what it felt like. One moment I was sitting in the driver’s seat of my car. The next, I was standing right where I’m sitting, knife unfolded, no mittens on my hands. Praying. Hoping that it would be quick and I wouldn’t be found.”

Robin knows she gasps something. Not a word. Not a breath. Some wrecked, terrible sound. Something like surprise and complete understanding. Something like hideous sympathy. Eddie holds his breath.

“But when I had it angled to…y’know…I just couldn’t do it. I didn’t know why. I still barely know. Yet, when I listened in on the silence around me, I realized it wasn’t quiet. There was a weird sound coming from my car. Like a—a static? I thought it was my radio. It began to annoy me,” he iterates. “I stomped over, bent down, and leaned my head into the driver’s side. And that’s when I saw it. One of the walkie-talkies. It was…It was Max asking for somebody to listen to her talk, she had a nightmare, she was scared, she was alone. 

“And…I may not be a good person. I may not be a better person. But I know I’m some weird fucking babysitter. And I knew that I would do anything for any of them. That’s when I thought, too, what if it had been Robin? What if it was Dustin or Nancy or even Jonathan that I was speaking to? I couldn’t…There’s no way I’d be settled leaving everybody the way I wanted to, knowing what I know and hearing what I heard in Max’s terrified voice.” He shakes his head, swallows again, and looks over at Eddie.

“And what if I couldn’t be there during Vecna? Who would’ve gone under the water? Who would’ve pulled you out of the mess of dead bats? Who would’ve held Dustin during the hours of surgery you had to go through? Who would’ve been there to tell Max she did a good job or that you did a good job? To listen to your music and your campaigns? Who would've agreed with you when Dustin is being a little shit?” He looks back at Robin now. “Who would’ve been there to hear about your crushes and your terrible double VHS tapes and your rambles about god knows what day to day? Who would’ve loved the both of you the way I love you?”

He tightens his grip on that tiny knife. Gazes at the water.

“I know that I don’t make a lot of good choices. I know that I say things that sound too bitchy to be teasing sometimes. I know that there’s still a lot inside of me that I need to make up for. But I’m alive and I’ve survived and I have some of the best people in my corner. I’d be a fool to give all of this up. So…that’s why tonight is special.

“Because I’m alive.”

Steve raises his arm, the knife over his shoulder, and chucks it down over the side of the quarry. He fills his palms with Eddie’s and Robin’s. And he relaxes.

“And you’ve got so much life to live,” Eddie says.

And Robin can’t help but think that he’s right because, The world didn’t end when you were nineteen.

-------- <3

[stobinesque]

Hi! 36 for platonic stobin? Ty! -@steddierthings

hello, this broke me 🥲 prompt: things you said but didn’t mean | rating: T (for language) wc: 616 | cw: hurt/comfort, arguments & misunderstandings

Robin storms inside, door slamming behind her. “God, you can be such an idiot sometimes!” The second the words are out she wants to yank them back. “Fuck.”

Steve’s face is frozen like a wax figurine. He’s never looked at her like that. He’s not looking at her. No, that’s not right. He’s not looking at her. It’s some plastic version of him, wearing Steve’s face like a mask. He huffs out a hollow laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, I’m— I’m aware, Robin.”

“Fuck. No. Steve, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that. I just—”

“You just finally got sick of me?” His voice is only barely quavering, and he waves a dismissive hand, as though to brush away objections she hasn’t even made yet. “No, that’s fine, I get it. No one sticks around, you know?”

“Steve.”

“You don’t have to keep stringing me along like, like some kind of lapdog, you know? I don’t need your pity, Robin.”

Her face is wet, her feet blocks of concrete, and there’s a knife lodged in her chest. “Is that what you think? You think I pity you?”

The mask flickers, and that’s all the fuel she needs to launch herself across the space she carved between them to jab a finger into his chest. “You think I threw myself against a door with you, you think I walked into battle with you, y-you think I came out to you, because I pity you? Do you think that little of me? Do you think that little of yourself?”

Steve’s eyes are round as saucers and he has both hands wrapped around her forearm. “No— no, Robs, I— ” His voice cracks around a sob and suddenly he’s collapsing into her arms.

Robin startles back with the shock, but not enough to lose him. Her arms tighten around him hesitantly.

She doesn’t know what to do. She’s seen Steve in every state imaginable. But she’s never seen him break—not like this. Not because of her.

She drops down to her knees, pulling him with her, and he burrows himself deeper in her embrace. “I love you, Steve.” She whispers it into his ear, tears streaming down her face. “You’re my best friend. More than, you’re— there isn’t a word for what you are to me, okay? You’re the most important person in my life, and nothing you say, or-or do, or fuck up is ever going to change that, you hear me? You…” she laughs, reaching up to wipe some of the tears from her face. “God, in spite of all of the fucking horror that came with it: you make my life better. You make me happy. And I’m sorry if I’ve ever done anything to make you doubt that.”

“’M sorry too,” Steve mumbles against her chest. He pulls back just enough to look up into her face. “And you haven’t, okay? Don’t put that on yourself, it’s… You were right. I don’t… I’m still not used to it. People wanting all of me.” Steve shakes his head. “I have a hard enough time understanding why Henderson keeps me around. But you? I’ve never met anyone better, and I spend every day wondering what I did to deserve you, and terrified of when I’ll ruin it.”

Robin sandwiches Steve’s face between her hands and makes him look at her, even though the intense stare makes her want to flinch. “You don’t have to do anything to deserve my love, okay? You already have it, and you always will.” She closes her eyes and leans up to press a kiss to his forehead. “I love you, Fen. For forever.”

“Love you too, Birdie.”

send me a pairing and a prompt!

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

dragon [part-time matchmaker, full-time cat]

by bigskyandthecoldgun

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & The Party Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Dustin Henderson, The Party (Stranger Things) Additional Tags: Matchmaker Pet, Cat Dad Steve Harrington, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Oblivious Steve Harrington, Sharing a Bed, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, There is nothing more important than Platonic Stobin, even the cat knows this, Cat POV in chapter 2, Getting Together, First Kiss Words: 7,097 Chapters: 2/2

Summary

“You are killing me, you little menace,” Steve tells Dragon one night while Eddie’s using the bathroom. “Why do you like Eddie so much, huh? I mean, sure, he’s funny and he’s nice, but it’s not like you can understand what he says, you don’t speak English.” Dragon meows indignantly at him from her place on Steve’s lap, slow-blinking at him. “Yeah, yeah, I see your point. Eddie is pretty great,” Steve mutters. Dragon yawns and starts making biscuits on his thighs, then purrs. or: steve's cat gets along with no one but steve—that is, until she meets eddie for the first time.

[thestobingirlie]

THANK YOU. Robin and Nancy’s incompatibility aside, Robin and Steve’s soulmatism is one of the unshakable dynamics in the show and Robin Buckley would just never. I read fanfics for most ships, and the story you linked is the first r//nance story I’ve seen that doesn’t have a Steve with zero issues just giggling while his best friend in the universe gets with the person who canonically hurt him the most/he’s still in love with. R//nance usually goes hand in hand with having to ignore how significant Nancy and Steve are to each other, which reminds me of the…

The Vickie erasure. The fanon of bi Nancy while fandom totally ignores Vickie is not surprising considering there’s so much automatic hatred of canon. Robin calls Vickie the girl of her dreams! I also hoped for more Vickie in season 4, but Vickie as the embodiment of Robin’s peace at home is perfect. Rosie! That Vickie is too much of a side-character to ship with Robin is ridiculous when I’ve accidentally seen so many fics including Gareth. For real, who the fuck is Gareth.

Nancy still needing to learn how to process her emotions is why I think any Stancy endgame would be a denouement situation. The execution of the matchmaker trope was unnecessary. Three whole characters weighing in on that relationship? One of which was a stranger? Why.

maybe it’s just because i love stobin so much, but it is literally one of the best and strongest dynamics in the show, and i just can’t fathom needing characters to be in a romantic relationship so badly, that people just cast aside how important robin and steve are to each other.

and yeah, i avoid all r//nance fics, like even if they’re just a background ship. because i know that that background ship will be a throwaway line, and still manage to destroy stobin. like, you can’t just have causal r//nance in the background because by it’s very nature, it would tear the characters apart.

in canon, steve still has feelings for nancy. now you can decide if that’s just because he’s clinging to this ideal of life that he isn’t ready to let go of, or because he actually is in love with her, but to disregard their relationship entirely is dumb. like, in their first s4 scene together, nancy spots steve’s car and just instantly calms. like, whether they’re romantic or platonic, steve and nancy are really important to each other.

i honestly just cannot see nancy being queer at all, but i know that’s just my personal opinion. but the fact that people will totally erase vickie, and then get annoyed at the duffers for having minimal gay characters, or for not making r//nance canon. like, there is a bi women right there! stop ignoring her! and yeah, i think the excuse that vickie is just a side character is such bullshit, because she is spoken about a lot, we see her in multiple scenes. she’s more important than gareth, but somehow he pops up everywhere? and a lot of people who hate vickie will then ship buckingham (which i have nothing against!) but it’s like, how are you gonna pretend chrissy has more personality then vickie?

yeah, i hate matchmaking, but the duffers seem incapable of writing a romance without using it. honestly, the reason why i hated murray so much is because of that. like, some random middle aged man got two teens drunk and told them to fuck in his house, and i’m supposed to think that’s the height of romance?! ew. and yeah, i can see robin talking to steve about nancy, because they obviously talk about their loves lives to each other. and dustin is incapable of not inserting himself into steve’s life, but eddie? what does he know about the situation? it’s just so weird.

also, i actually find stancy interesting, at least, i’ve always enjoyed watching their scenes more than nancy and jonathan, but i just don’t think that nancy will be able to get enough development in time for her to end the show in a healthy relationship. though, i do kinda want stancy to be endgame just because i know how much steve antis will hate it. and i think that’s funny.

but honestly, when it comes to endgames i just don’t care. what ships the duffers decide to end on mean nothing to me. i will read whatever fanfics i want when the show ends, and who’s gonna stop me. “oh it’s not canon.” don’t care, didn’t ask.

[freetheworms]

Platonic Stobin. I am also feral over this. True love that’s not romantic love being represented??? I cry.

YES !! YOU get it !!!!!

platonic true love is soooo much more important than most people give it credit for. like, romance can be great in all its different forms, but the love of a real, healthy, irreplaceable friendship is SO underrated, and i get really excited when i see it done so well.

i mean, they just love each other unconditionally; not for any reason other than that they enjoy each other’s company !! there’s no ulterior motive, there’s no will-they-won’t-they, there’s no tension or expectations, no trying to impress the other, nothing. there’s only honest love between their most authentic selves. they just care about each other for the sake of it and i, for one, am EXTREMELY FERAL ABOUT THAT

platonic stobin, my absolute and utter beloved

[stevesbipanic]

7, 20, and 34 for the ST asks!

7. Favourite episode in season 1, 2, 3 and 4 respectively?

1 - Episode 1 - The Vanishing of Will Byers because the nostalgia of the first episode just being so weird and interesting since we knew nothing about the show yet.

2 - Episode 6 - The Spy because that's the start of mama Steve doing anything to protect his kids fighting those demodogs.

3 - Episode 7 - The Bite because of the Robin coming out scene and just Robin and Steve being high af is hilarious.

4 - Episode 7 - The Massacre at Hawkins Lab because as a steddie lover I love them walking through the forest together.

20. Favourite emotional moment?

Robin coming out to Steve, hands down will be my favourite forever, I love platonic Stobin more than any other romantic ship so that scenes really important to me.

34. Do you think will has a connection to the upside down?

Definitely, the wonder twins have so many parallels, Henry and Will have so many parallels and Will survived so long by himself in the Upside Down he has to have a connection.

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

based on this

steve's pov | dragon's pov

Steve had found Dragon hiding in a bush when she’d been a teeny, tiny kitten with mangy black fur and green eyes that took up basically her whole face.

She’d been so sickly, in fact, that the vet had warned Steve she might not make it. Steve had refused to give up on the kitten, though, nursing her back to health as best as he possibly could. Now, she’s an enormous, regal-looking cat that has a meow closer to a roar, a purr that makes her sound like a motorcycle engine, and breath so terrible it should be legally qualified as a hazardous gas. That is, admittedly, where Dragon had gotten her name. Steve had found her just after the events of ’84, and when Dustin came over to bug him for a ride to the arcade, he’d been all but obsessed with the poor cat.

“D’you have a name for her yet?” Dustin had asked, eyes wide with wonder as the kitten had scrambled up Steve’s pant leg and climbed up to perch on his shoulder, shaking and terrified at the stranger in their home.

“Nah. Figured I’d just call her, like, Midnight or something,” Steve had said with a shrug, to which Dustin had taken great offense.

Upon smelling the stench that had come from the kitten’s hiss, Dustin had declared her a fearsome creature with a breath weapon, whatever that means—a Dragon. So Steve’s got a cat that is incredibly clingy and a little stinky, but only when she opens her mouth.

And his cat is ruining his dating life.

The thing about Dragon is that she doesn’t like most people. She tolerates Robin, even when she’s sitting next to Steve, but other than that, she hates it when people get close to Steve. Dragon’s the most territorial cat Steve has ever met, and Steve can hardly go anywhere in the house without Dragon at his feet or on his shoulders. And balancing a cat as large as Dragon on his shoulders is not an easy feat. Dragon screams if Steve closes her out of a room he’s in and sleeps directly atop Steve’s chest. That cat is the clingiest creature on the planet, and Steve would die for her.

But Dragon despises people. She hisses at the girls Steve brings home, yowls when the door to Steve’s bedroom is closed, and swats at anyone that tries to so much as touch him when he’s on the couch. It’s absolutely destroying Steve’s chances at bringing girls home, and while most of his dates are content to bring him back to theirs, Steve’s getting a little tired of being kicked out of bed. At least when he’s at home, he can mope right away when girls turn down his offer of staying the night and leave early, rather than moping in his car.

And it’s not like he’s getting a ton of action lately, anyway. Now that the whole Vecna debacle is over, with Eddie and Max out of the hospital, the Party spends most of its nights together, so Steve hasn’t been going on too many dates anymore. Instead, he spends his time either on someone else’s couch or his own, and if it’s the latter, he can count on Dragon sitting squarely on his lap and everyone but Robin sitting a few feet away for safety purposes.

It’s a late afternoon in November, when he’s hanging out alone with Eddie at his house for the first time, when Dragon does something truly surprising.

She lets Eddie pet her.

They’re hanging out in the kitchen, Steve almost done with his cup of coffee and Eddie nursing a cup of his own mixed with an absurd amount of hot chocolate powder. The coffee in late afternoon is a peculiar habit of Eddie’s; he says it’s because it’s when his uncle usually wakes up, and they have coffee together, so Steve thinks it’s kind of sweet. It’s a really nice afternoon, chilly but not too cold, only slightly overcast so that it’s not too sunny but not too cloudy, either. The cool light makes Eddie’s hair look shiny, and the gleam bounces off his skin like a halo might.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you how cool your cat is,” Eddie says, nodding towards the Dragon in question. Dragon hops up on the counter, then hops up on Steve’s shoulders, purring as she nudges the side of her face against Steve’s cheek. Eddie grins. “Dragon. A fitting name for a majestic beast.”

“I don’t know why she’s so unfriendly,” Steve sighs, reaching up to scratch behind Dragon’s fluffy ears. Dragon purrs even harder. Eddie snorts and reaches up to join Steve in scritching behind Dragon’s ears, but Steve takes a step back. “Woah, careful, man, don’t want you to get clawed.”

Eddie’s grin turns into a small, fond smile. “Cats don’t really like me, anyway, I don’t mind a little scratch or two,” he says, stepping closer to offer his hand up for Dragon to sniff.

Instead of the hiss Steve’s predicting, Dragon pushes her face against Eddie’s knuckles and continues to purr. “Holy shit,” Steve breathes, eyes wide, “she doesn’t do that with anybody.”

“She probably does that with you,” Eddie points out, and Steve gives him a flat look. The answering shit-eating grin he gets is unfairly endearing. “Nah, I get what you mean. But seriously? There must be someone else she likes. One of the kids? Some girl you brought home that happened to have cat treats in her purse or some shit?”

Steve groans and shifts Dragon into his arms, feigning annoyance when Dragon nuzzles against his jaw. It’s actually pretty cute. “No, this little asshole is ruining my chances of getting laid,” he says. “She hates everybody I bring home. She doesn’t even like the kids! The most socializing she’s ever done with another person before this is her letting Robin be next to me. Dragon tolerating a relationship? No way.”

Dragon lets out a loud meow and licks Steve’s cheek. “Well, maybe you just have to find somebody she likes,” Eddie says, scratching under Dragon’s chin. Dragon meows again and squints, chin tilting up to give Eddie more room to scratch. Eddie clicks his tongue. “Aw, see? She’s a sweet girl. I’m sure she’ll have a soft spot for someone other than yourself soon enough.”

Steve decides to play along. “Draggy,” Steve coos, “will you please let Daddy get laid? Be all sweet and good instead of biting people’s ankles?”

“I’m sorry, did you just call yourself Daddy?” Eddie sputters, looking mortified.

Frowning, Steve shifts Dragon so that he’s holding her like one might hold an infant. “Yeah, I’m Dragon’s dad, and she’s my little baby,” he explains. “Duh.”

“No, okay, wh—nevermind,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “My point is, even if Dragon hates the ladies, I’m sure there’s one lady out there for you she won’t hate.”

As Eddie pets Dragon’s tummy—her tummy!—Steve realizes that, yeah, there is one person out there that Dragon doesn’t hate.

Steve resolves that, if Dragon really doesn’t mind Eddie’s company, he should have Eddie around more often. The way Steve sees it, if Dragon gets used to Eddie being in the house and being close to Steve, she might open up to other people who are around a lot, like the Party, and then she could even learn to tolerate girls coming over. As much as Steve hates to admit it, Eddie Munson might just be the reason his dating life gets revived.

At the next movie night, the movie night that Eddie finally shows up for, when Dragon hops into Steve’s lap and everyone scoots at least ten feet away, Steve pats the seat next to him. “Hey, Eddie, c’mere,” he says, and Dustin openly gawks when Eddie’s able to sit right next to Steve with no roaring protests from Dragon.

“What the hell?! I’ve been in your house so many times and I’ve never been able to sit near you when Dragon’s around!” Dustin huffs, scowling at the fluffy bastard. “And I’m the one who named her! I’m practically her godfather!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Henderson,” Eddie says, a slow grin spreading across his face, which can’t be good. “If Steve’s pu—”

“Nope,” Steve cuts in, slapping a hand over Eddie’s mouth, cheeks burning, “not gonna let you finish that.”

Eddie nods. “Very wise,” he says, muffled. “It was gonna be incredibly inappropriate.”

Satisfied with having stopped that, Steve moves his hand away, and Eddie knocks their shoulders together. To Steve’s shock, Dragon doesn’t hiss or swat, just snuggles further into Steve’s lap and purrs harder than she’s ever purred before. The movie starts up, and Steve watches Eddie reach over in the dark, usually a bad move when it comes to Dragon. But Dragon just lets Eddie run a hand over the top of her head, and Steve leans into his side, the two of them sharing a small smile.

After the movie, when most everyone else has gone home, Eddie’s still around, scratching behind Dragon’s ears. “You know, you should hang out here more often,” Steve tells him, and Eddie raises a brow at him. Steve tilts his head. “I mean, Dragon doesn’t get a lot of socializing in, so…it’d probably be good for her.”

Clearly holding back a grin, Eddie nods. “Sure. I’d love to come around more so Dragon gets some socializing in,” he teases, and Steve rolls his eyes, holding back a smile of his own. Eddie leans closer, smoothing his thumb over Dragon’s fuzzy little cheek. “She’s really cute. Has good taste in who she lets pet her.”

Eddie casts his gaze down at Dragon. His lashes are long and dark. He has really nice hands, too, and it’s easy to notice them as they run over Dragon’s pitch-black fur. “Yeah,” Steve says quietly, giving Dragon a pat by her leg, “she does.”

Eddie comes over way more often from then on, and Dragon gets somewhat clingy to him, which is kind of unbelievable, because Dragon’s never rubbed up on anyone’s ankles but Steve’s, but it’s a marked improvement. The only downside is that Dragon still hasn’t improved with anyone else, but Steve figures that’ll change sooner or later.

For now, he’s content to hang out with Eddie in his room, laying on the bed with Dragon sitting on his chest and Eddie laying beside him. “Little lady,” Eddie coos, almost nose-to-nose with Dragon, who purrs. “Sweet baby girl.”

“She’s a smelly girl,” Steve tuts, scratching between Dragon’s ears. He looks at Eddie. “I still can’t believe you’re the only one out of everybody we know that she likes.”

Eddie looks up at him, big brown eyes shining with mirth. “I dunno, I think it’s pretty believable. I happen to be very likable,” he says. And, to Eddie’s credit, Steve’s found that he kind of is. “And besides, cats have good judgements of character. I’ve been chosen.”

Steve raises a brow. “I thought you said cats didn’t like you.”

Face scrunched up, Eddie tilts his head. “Yeah…I lied. Didn’t want to make you feel bad if I did get scratched,” he explains.

That’s fair, actually.

Dragon meows, raspy and roaring as always, and she smacks her paw out at Eddie’s arm, using her—trimmed, because Steve takes very good care of her—claws to drag him closer. “She wants you closer? That’s crazy,” Steve comments as Eddie scoots into his space, their sides pressed together. “She must really like you.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, but he does smile, soft and private, and Steve thinks it’s nice. It’s a smile he hasn’t seen before.

It’s pretty.

Even with Eddie and Dragon getting buddy-buddy, it still doesn’t seem to be helping Steve’s case with bringing anyone home. Hell, Dragon still isn’t even close to being civil with most of the Party, barring Robin, who actually got in a single chin scratch the other day. But Eddie and Dragon are getting along swimmingly, to the point where Eddie can actually pick Dragon up! Granted, it’s not for very long, because Dragon starts screaming about ten seconds in until Steve takes her from Eddie, but still. It’s insane.

“You are killing me, you little menace,” Steve tells Dragon one night while Eddie’s using the bathroom. “Why do you like Eddie so much, huh? I mean, sure, he’s funny and he’s nice, but it’s not like you can understand what he says, you don’t speak English.”

Dragon meows indignantly at him from her place on Steve’s lap, slow-blinking at him.

“Yeah, yeah, I see your point. Eddie is pretty great,” Steve mutters.

Dragon yawns and starts making biscuits on his thighs, then purrs.

“Okay, so he’s handsome, too, but I don’t see how that’s appealing for you, you’re a cat,” Steve huffs. He blinks, face flushing. “Well, that’s—it doesn’t appeal to me, either, I guess.”

Dragon gives him an inquisitive little mrrowp? in response.

Steve blows out a long breath. “Look, Draggy, you gotta find someone else you like. Eddie can’t be the only other person you can tolerate, it’s just not realistic,” Steve tells her.

Dragon roars.

Shushing her, Steve pets her to sweeten the deal of shutting up. “Yeah, I know, and I like having him around, too—”

“Talking to your cat about me, Stevie?” Eddie asks, bouncing into the room and sitting down beside him with a flouncy sort of flip of his hair. “Well, Madam Dragon, I do hope he hasn’t been slandering my good name.”

He’s using that silly cat-voice he does when he’s talking to Dragon, and it’s almost as endearing as the way Dragon rolls over to let Eddie rub her tummy. “I would do no such thing,” Steve says, feigning offense, and Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Miss Dragon, don’t listen to a word he says,” Eddie tells the cat. He glances over at the clock and frowns. “Ah, shit, it’s getting late.”

“You could stay here, if you want,” Steve offers. “Maybe Dragon’ll suffocate someone else in their sleep for a change.”

Eddie laughs, but he takes Steve up on the offer, heading into the guest bedroom in a change of clothes that definitely doesn’t make Steve feel a certain type of way about seeing Eddie in his one of his old swim team shirts. Though, the night is not peaceful, because a certain giant, annoying cat refuses to stop screeching at the top of her lungs. Eddie comes stumbling back into Steve’s bedroom, Dragon held in his outstretched arms, Eddie’s hands tucked under the cat’s armpits.

There’s a grumpy, slightly disgruntled look on Eddie’s face. “Please tell your daughter to stop screaming at me,” he says, placing Dragon on the bed, and Steve reaches for her to drag her into his lap. Eddie nods and turns to leave, only for Dragon to scream again, and he whirls right back around. “Oh my God, what?!”

Dragon gives a little chirp and trots to the edge of the bed, nosing at Eddie’s hand. “Draggy, let Eddie go to bed,” Steve says, his voice rough with what little sleep he’d managed to get between Dragon’s long and loud meows.

“Yes, Dragon, I need my beauty sleep,” Eddie says. When he turns to leave again, Dragon yowls and bites down—seemingly gently—on his hand, carefully stepping backwards towards Steve while she does so. Eddie looks just as bewildered as Steve feels. “Does she want me to stay here?”

“I have no idea. I’ve literally never seen her do this before,” Steve tells him. “But, like, you can, as long as it’ll stop her from screeching.”

Eddie blows out a long breath. “Honestly, I don’t even care at this point, I just want to sleep,” he groans, clambering under the covers until they’re laying face-to-face beside each other. Eddie smiles at him, then winces and scoots closer. “Sorry, ah—she’s pushing my back.”

Dragon gives a little mrrp of confirmation.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into her, I’m sorry,” Steve whispers, and Eddie just half-shrugs, eyes darting everywhere but Steve’s face. He looks uneasy. “Hey, man, if you’re uncomfortable staying here, you can sleep on the pullout in the den and I’ll just lock her in here, she’s got a litterbox and water in my bathroom, she’ll be fine. And you won’t hear anything down there, so…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. Wouldn’t wanna put you through that torture.”

He gets slightly closer, and Steve’s face goes a little hot at the proximity. Their noses are almost touching. “She’s being a little douchebag,” Steve murmurs. “Ignore her.”

“She keeps pushing at my back,” Eddie tells him, sounding a little panicked. “Why is your cat so strong, dude?”

“I can take her out of the—”

Dragon lets out a meow so loud that it rings out for a few seconds after she’s done.

Eddie is clearly fighting a laugh. “Okay, so keeping her out of the room isn’t an option,” he says, and Steve chuckles. Eddie gives him a curious sort of look. “Hey…about earlier. What were you telling Dragon about me?”

Oh, just that you’re funny and sweet and, apparently, I think you’re really handsome, is what Steve probably shouldn’t say.

“Oh, just that you’re funny and sweet and, apparently, I think you’re really handsome,” is what Steve says, because he’s an idiot.

Eddie’s brows shoot up, behind his bangs. “I’m sorry, you think what?”

“That you’re really handsome,” Steve says, because, again, he’s an idiot.

Blinking, Eddie starts to frown. “Are you messing with me right now? Because if you are, that is not cool, Harrington—”

“I’m not,” Steve says. “I’m—I didn’t—I mean, Dragon really likes you, and cats are…a good judge of character, and you’re, uh—you’re pretty.”

The frown turns into a poorly-hidden smile. “I’m pretty?” Eddie echoes, lashes batting, and Steve can’t tell whether or not that’s intentional.

“You are,” he says softly. “You also make me laugh, and you get along really well with my cat, which—and I don’t know if you know this—is very hard to do.”

Eddie laughs, almost bashful. “I did say there’d be somebody Dragon had a soft spot for other than you, didn’t I?”

“The little menace is a matchmaker,” Steve mutters, and Eddie leans forward just slightly until their noses are touching. Steve reaches up to cup Eddie’s face. “Can I kiss you?”

“Absolutely,” Eddie says breathlessly.

Steve presses their lips together gently, moving slowly, and Eddie hums into the kiss, one hand on Steve’s waist and the other sliding up to his chest. It’s soft and it’s good, and Steve leans into it a little more, his fingers tangling in Eddie’s curls as he deepens the kiss. Unfortunately, Steve has to pull back for air, but Eddie’s smiling when he does. Dragon meows, much further away than Steve had thought she’d been, and the sound of her collar jingling grows quieter and quieter.

“Well,” Steve says, “I definitely found somebody she likes.”

“Safe to say, she won’t prevent you from getting laid anymore,” Eddie murmurs, his low voice sending a shiver down Steve’s spine. He gets this hesitant sort of look on his face, like he isn’t sure if he’s overstepped. “I mean, only if you want to—”

Steve interrupts him with a chaste kiss. “Oh, I want to,” he whispers.

The next morning, when they wake up tangled in each other’s arms, clothes littering the floor, Dragon is sitting on the edge of the bed with Eddie’s discarded shirt in her mouth, tail flicking back and forth, looking smug as ever.

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

based on this

steve's pov | dragon's pov

Her Dad has always been very lonely.

Even from when he’d found her in that horrible, dirty bush back when she’d been but a kitten, the bright, comforting smile on his face had been tinged with a sort of sadness so deep it made her mewl with sympathy, digging her scraggly little paws into his shirt as he’d picked her up, using the last of her strength to nuzzle into his chest. Dad had stayed sad in the strange, clean room with the person in the white coat as they had explained something to him, casting glances down at her as she’d struggled to hold herself up on shaky legs on the metal surface they’d placed her on.

Her fur had been cleaned, she’d been poked at and prodded and felt a whole lot better, and when Dad had taken her into the big house and placed her gently on the bed, telling her tales about someone named Nancy and her wit and her pretty face, and someone named Jonathan and his ability to keep up with the Nancy and make her happy, and how Dad was glad to have someone to talk to about all of it, that smile was back. The sad one. She hadn’t been given a name yet, but her Dad had given her care she hadn’t ever known, food and medicine and affection, and she loved him for it.

The Nancy and the Jonathan, whoever they are, are determinedly not loved by her, she’d decided that night, curled up on her Dad's chest as sleep overtook her.

The day after, the small boy, who she affectionately calls Curly in the privacy of her own mind while Dad calls him the Dustin, comes over and gets far too close to her. She panics and swats at his nose—claws sheathed, because he is smaller than Dad, and he isn’t the Nancy or the Jonathan—and he shrieks, a delighted smile on his face that isn’t tinged with loneliness like her Dad's. She hisses at him from the comfort of Dad's shoulder, a little raspy, and Curly makes a face.

“Her breath should be considered a weapon,” he tells Dad, and then a look of even more delight crosses Curly’s face. “Oh! You should name her Dragon! Fierce little monster with a breath weapon, it makes so much sense, Steve!”

Curly goes on rambling until Dad finally cuts him off. “Okay! Fine, her name’s Dragon,” he relents. “Happy?”

Dragon is okay with that name, if only because Dad's smile is not as sad when he tries to hide it from Curly as the boy whoops.

She grows big and strong, broad and intimidating, and Dad tells her every day how soft and shiny her fur is, how she’s such a sweet girl, how he thinks it’s funny when she roars at trespassers in their home. And, of course, the trespassers are many in number and often come into their home with little protesting from Dad, much to Dragon’s dismay. She loves her Dad and only her Dad. She likes the rest well enough, sure, but Dad is special.

Dragon spends the majority of her time practically attached to Dad. He gives her many pets and lets her sit atop his shoulders or his chest or his lap, always ready to guard him from the hands of other people. Dad is her human, not theirs. Even as they try to win her favor with treats and pets, Dragon turns her nose up at them with a hiss, her hackles raised. She needs not the fleeting affections of the smaller humans, or even the Nancy or the Jonathan, who she meets for the first time when they show up on her Dad's doorstep, telling him how they’re here to take the smaller ones away.

“Hi, Steve,” the girl says, and Dragon clambers her way up to her Dad's shoulders, making herself as large and imposing as possible. “Jonathan and I are here to take the boys home.”

Her Dad radiates sadness. Loneliness. The girl must be the Nancy.

“Aw, who’s this?” the boy—he must be the Jonathan—asks, reaching up towards Dragon, which is a definite no-no. He needs to learn. Dragon hisses in warning before swatting his hand, claws out, because Dad smells so dreadfully of loneliness that it makes Dragon’s heart ache. The Jonathan draws his hand back with a wince. Dragon purrs. “Ow.”

“Shit, sorry, I should’ve warned you,” Dad says, and Dragon feels indignant at the fact the Nancy and the Jonathan have made him feel as though he needs to apologize. “Dragon’s not exactly friendly.”

Dragon begs to differ. She’s plenty cordial with the children. She doesn’t even take her claws out to swat their hands away when they try to pet her. Petting her is Dad's job, not theirs. “That’s okay,” the Nancy says. She looks at Dragon and smiles. Dragon’s ears flatten against her head as she hisses again, and the Nancy’s smile falters. “Uh, sorry, Dragon. Are they ready to go?”

She aims the question at Dad, who nods and steps aside to let the parade of small ones out of the house. “See you guys around,” Dad says as he shuts the door, and he scoops Dragon from his shoulders, holding her out and up at arms’ length as he clicks his tongue and shakes his head fondly. “What am I gonna do with you?”

Dragon mewls. You’re welcome, Dad.

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t like people, I get it,” Dad sighs, tucking her against his chest.

She nuzzles at his jaw and meows again. I like people well enough. I just don’t like the Nancy and the Jonathan. They make you smile bad.

“I’m really the only person you can handle, huh?” Dad muses, scratching behind Dragon’s ears in the best of ways. Dragon purrs, making biscuits against his shoulder. “Little beast. Tiny baby creature. You’re the best.”

Dragon is neither tiny nor a baby anymore, but Dad seems intent on calling her his baby, which she doesn’t mind. She gives him a quiet mrrp and nudges him again. Make friends that make you smile good.

“You’re gonna have to learn how to deal with people sooner or later, Draggy. I think I wanna start dating again,” her Dad says.

She comes to learn that ‘dating’ means bringing strangers into their house and closing the door to the den. Dragon makes her protests very known, yowling and scratching at the door when strange noises start up behind it, hissing and swatting and biting at the strangers when they get too close to her, and getting between Dad and the trespassers at every opportunity. None of the strangers make his smile any less lonely. If anything, they only serve to make it worse, and none of them seem to realize it.

The only person that Dragon comes to really like is the Robin, who she likes to call Dots, because of all the little dots on her face. Dots never tries to push her into letting her pet her, keeps her hands to herself with Dad, and makes Dad's smile a lot less lonely. “She’s so sweet,” Dots says one day as Dragon sprawls herself out on Dad's lap, belly exposed for him to rub at with his blunt nails, just the way she likes. “Do you think she’d let me pet her?”

“Dragon doesn’t really let people pet her,” Dad says, and Dragon lets out a little mew of agreement. For some reason, it makes Dots and Dad laugh. “I mean, you can try, but it’s kind of a miracle she tolerates you enough to let you sit next to me.”

“I don’t wanna bother her,” Dots says, and Dragon promptly decides that she’s her favorite of all the strange people her Dad brings to the house.

Human litters are strange, Dragon has discovered. She can only assume that the humans, too stupid to name themselves, have roles that correspond to the strange words they call themselves, the same across the board. Each litter must have the Steve—her Dad's title among the group—who clearly leads the rest of them, the Dustin, who is the Steve’s apprentice, the Erica, who is second in command, the Mike, who is in charge of scowling, the Lucas, who is the Max’s companion and the one in charge of games with orange balls, the Max, who is the Lucas’ companion and the one who makes funny comments, the Will, who is in charge of breaking up arguments, and the El, who is the superhero. The Robin, of course, is in charge of being the Steve’s best friend. The Jonathan and the Nancy are still of little concern to Dragon, but she has determined they are in charge of moving the children in and out of the house. Again, totally unimportant.

The El and the Will don’t come around much anymore, and Dad says that this is because they are in California. Dragon doesn’t know what California is, but it’s a long word, which she usually only hears in reference to sicknesses. Dragon hopes the El and the Will get better soon. The Jonathan has also stopped coming around, and it’s curious that this development seems to make the Nancy’s smile just a bit like Dad's now.

Dragon had been entirely unaware that a human litter needs an Eddie until one comes barreling in one afternoon in the cold months, throwing his things unceremoniously onto the couch in the TV room and shouting Dad's title into the house. Dad is not home yet. He is off with Dots at what he calls ‘work.’ Dragon postures herself as big and scary as possible, ears flat against her head as the tall man with dark hair and clothes and dangly metal walks down the hallway, towards the kitchen. And—the audacity astounds her—he starts poking around in the cabinets, making himself a meal! How rude!

Dragon yowls, low and throaty, posted up in the doorway to corner him. “Oh, shit, Steve has a cat?” the man asks, crouching down but making no move to coax her closer. “Hey, buddy, what’s your name?”

Dragon blinks at him and meows. You’re a stranger in my home. Why would I tell you?

“Ah. Mrawr. Lovely name,” the man says, nodding. He purses his lips and an airy noise comes from him, kind of like that metal thing Dad uses on the stove every now and then. “You are huge. Not that that’s a bad thing. You’re very pretty.”

Preening a little, Dragon lets out a little mrrp of gratitude. Yes, I’m very pretty. My Dad takes such good care of me. Now, go away.

The door opens again. Aha! Finally, Dad is home, and they will be rid of this intruder, the stranger who hadn’t been told about Dragon, so he must be lost, he must be looking for a different human litter’s Steve. He isn’t scowling, so he must not be a Mike or a Max. His hair is curly, so perhaps he’s a Dustin? He is looking for a Steve, after all. Or perhaps he is a Robin, by that logic.

“Eddie! Hey! What’s up, man?” Dad asks, and—

Oh, his smile is so bright and finally free of the loneliness that plagues it.

Dragon has only ever seen him smile like that once before, when Dots and Curly had been at the house, the three of them playing some kind of game with the Erica. She needs to keep that version of Dad's smile around. It’s the best one, and far too rare. The rest of Dad's litter smiles like that all the time, and it wouldn’t do if Dad continues to only show that wonderful smile on special occasions. She dutifully steps aside as Dad moves into the kitchen.

This Eddie is the key, Dragon realizes. The key to making her Dad not so lonely anymore.

Dad and the Eddie embrace. Dragon has never seen Dad as relaxed as he is in the Eddie’s hold, save for when he’s asleep and Dragon is guarding his slumbering form. “Good to see you, dude,” the Eddie says. “You got any coffee?”

“You and your coffee,” Dad says, shaking his head as he pulls back, going all around the kitchen in a routine Dragon’s only seen in the mornings.

As her Dad and the Eddie—Dragon decides to call him Ink after one of Dad's comments about the strange black shapes on the Eddie’s arms—talk idly and sip at their coffees, Dragon observes. Dad has never seemed so at ease, so happy. There isn’t a trace of the loneliness anymore, not a single sad crease in his forehead. Ink even makes him laugh. So much, too! And Dad looks at Ink like he’d looked at the Nancy that first time she’d showed up on their doorstep. Wanting. Wistful.

Dragon makes a decision.

She will make sure Ink and Dad are never separated. She will convince Ink to spend more time with her Dad. She will keep her Dad happy. Her Dad will never be lonely again, not if Dragon has anything to say about it.

After a while of talking, Ink nods down at her. “You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you how cool your cat is,” he says. Dragon takes that as her cue to get up on her Dad's shoulders. She shudders at the prospect, but if she lets Ink pet her the next time he tries, surely Dad will realize that he must stay with them. She gives her Dad a reassuring purr and nudges his cheek with her face, and Ink smiles. “Dragon. A fitting name for a majestic beast.”

“I don’t know why she’s so unfriendly,” Dad sighs, reaching up to scratch behind Dragon’s fluffy ears. Dragon purrs even harder. When Ink makes a strange noise and reaches up to join her Dad in scritching behind Dragon’s ears, her Dad takes a step back. No! That’s not the plan! “Woah, careful, man, don’t want you to get clawed.”

The big smile on Ink’s face gets smaller, but somehow feels more private. “Cats don’t really like me, anyway, I don’t mind a little scratch or two,” he says, stepping closer to offer his hand up for Dragon to sniff.

Dragon doesn’t even need to sniff him, though he smells strongly of outdoors. He’ll smell enough like Dad sooner or later. She just pushes her face against his knuckles. Pet me, you imbecile. Show Dad how you will love us.

She even keeps purring to drive the point home. “Holy shit, she doesn’t do that with anybody,” Dad says. Yes! He’s getting it!

They continue their conversation, and Dragon feels herself getting shifted into her Dad's arms, so she nuzzles against him. Dad is talking about things that don’t interest her, strangers and the like, so she meows pointedly and licks his face. Tell the Eddie he needs to stay. We don’t have one yet.

Finally, the conversation points to her in a favorable way. “Well, maybe you just have to find somebody she likes,” Ink says, scratching under her chin. She meows again and squints, tilting her chin up. She’s really going all out here. Dad better get her point. Ink makes a strange sort of sound. “Aw, see? She’s a sweet girl. I’m sure she’ll have a soft spot for someone other than yourself soon enough.”

“Draggy,” Dad coos in his play-voice, “will you please let Daddy get laid? Be all sweet and good instead of biting people’s ankles?”

Dragon doesn’t know what any of that means, but it clearly makes Ink horrified enough to drag the conversation elsewhere, which, again—annoying. Neither of them are getting her point, not even when Dad shifts her so that her tummy’s facing up and she lets Ink give her belly rubs. Belly rubs! Those are not given lightly, and Dad must realize it, because Ink comes over a lot more often after that.

She always makes sure Ink and Dad are sitting together, lets Ink pet her—and, admittedly, he’s pretty good at it—and watches to make sure Dad's smile never turns lonely. And it doesn’t, not with Ink around. Dragon changes nothing about how she interacts with other people, but she gets clingy to the Eddie, trying to show her Dad that he should be, too. Dad even lets the Eddie into the den, lets him lay on the pillows beside him as they talk and talk about things that Dragon doesn’t understand and doesn’t particularly care to.

But Ink is not close enough. On one memorable occasion, Dragon even paws at his arm until he gets the hint to scoot closer, and she thinks that if her Dad could purr, he would. Dad doesn’t get the hint, though, even still, because even though Dragon is pretty sure the Eddie of the human litter is supposed to provide love to the Steve, Dad doesn’t seem to realize he can. Dragon even lets Dots get in a scratch to her chin, just to show Dad that if even she can let other people in, so can he.

“You are killing me, you little menace,” Dad tells her one night when Ink isn’t in the room, but he’s still in the house. “Why do you like Eddie so much, huh? I mean, sure, he’s funny and he’s nice, but it’s not like you can understand what he says, you don’t speak English.”

Dragon meows indignantly at him from where she sits on his lap. I understand enough to know that this Eddie is the Eddie you should keep.

“Yeah, yeah, I see your point. Eddie is pretty great,” her Dad mutters.

Dragon yawns, because the little song and dance her Dad is doing about his silly feelings is exhausting, and starts making biscuits on his thighs, then purrs. He is. And you deserve that. You should not be lonely, and he makes you un-lonely.

“Okay, so he’s handsome, too, but I don’t see how that’s appealing for you, you’re a cat,” Dad huffs. Dragon watches him pause, then his face goes all pink, and he looks funny. “Well, that’s—it doesn’t appeal to me, either, I guess.”

Dragon gives him an inquisitive little mrrowp? in response. What does handsome mean? You should let him give you whatever pets for humans are.

Her Dad makes air push out of his mouth for a while. “Look, Draggy, you gotta find someone else you like. Eddie can’t be the only other person you can tolerate, it’s just not realistic,” he tells her. Rude. She tolerates everybody.

Dragon roars. The Eddie loves you, so I love him. What’s so hard to understand about this? You love him, too, if you would stop being obtuse about it.

Dad has the audacity to shush her, even if he does give her some pets. “Yeah, I know, and I like having him around, too—”

“Talking to your cat about me, Stevie?” Ink asks.

Dragon makes a whole big show of letting Ink give her tummy rubs, keeping her eyes on Dad the whole time. See? You could have this, too. Just be brave. But, unfortunately, Dad doesn’t get the hint, because while he puts Ink in clothes scented by him, Ink sleeps in one of the dens for guests rather than in Dad's den. Fine. If Dad won’t get the message, maybe his Eddie will.

She sits outside of the door to the guest den Ink sleeps in and yowls and cries until he comes out to pick her up and put her on Dad's bed. “Please tell your daughter to stop screaming at me,” he says, and Dragon gets dragged into her Dad's lap. The Eddie turns to leave, which is outrageous! All of that work, for what? Dragon lets out an indignant cry, and Ink turns back around. “Oh my God, what?!”

Dragon gives him a little chirp and trots to the edge of the bed, nosing at his hand. Sleep in here, Dad is so lonely when he sleeps.

“Draggy, let Eddie go to bed,” Dad protests. Dragon resists the temptation to tell him to stay out of it, because he is still her Dad and must be respected.

“Yes, Dragon, I need my beauty sleep,” Ink tells her, which is further infuriating, because Dad already thinks he’s pretty! He stares at Ink all the time! When the Eddie turns to leave again, Dragon yowls again and takes his hand into her mouth to try and drag him towards Dad. Ink looks to Dad, probably for guidance. The Steve is the leader, after all. “Does she want me to stay here?”

They exchange more words, which is a terrible bore, but Ink clambers into the bed, so Dragon is triumphant. They’re not close enough, though, not as close as the humans on the TV that make Dad sigh wistfully, so Dragon pushes against Ink’s back and doesn’t stop pushing until he scoots a little closer. Still, it’s not enough.

“She keeps pushing at my back,” the Eddie says. “Why is your cat so strong, dude?”

Dragon is so busy being pleased at the comment that she nearly misses what her Dad says in response. “I can take her out of the—”

She lets out a panicked screech, as loud as she can. No! You’ll never do this on your own! I have to help, so I have to be here until you figure it out!

Neither of them make any further threats to remove her, so she just keeps idly nudging at Ink’s back. After so much chatter, really, humans have got to be more direct with each other, the Eddie takes initiative, leaning close to her Dad's face. Finally, finally, they look the way the humans on TV do, and Dragon quietly makes her way off of the bed as the strange noises that usually mean she gets locked out of the room begin, meowing when there’s a pause.

I will stay out of your way, Ink. Please make him happy.

Dragon heads down the hall and curls up on the bed of the guest den, too tired from her matchmaking efforts to be kept up by the increase of noises from the room next door.

To be given her proper credit the next morning, she politely snatches up one of the shirts on the floor—the one that smells like Dad but the one Ink had been wearing—and waits for her Dad to see her up on the bed before swishing her tail smugly. When Ink sees, he cackles. Dragon can tell that he will live up to his title. The Eddie will make the Steve happy, just as he’s meant to.

Honestly, Dad should listen to her more often. Dragon has very good ideas.

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

okay. concept.

steve gets a very minor head injury—maybe one of the kids with less hand-eye coordination attempts to play catch with him and it goes wrong—and he has (temporary) amnesia as a result of it. he wakes up in the hospital and doesn’t know who anybody is, but he does know how he feels about them.

and the hot guy with gorgeous curly hair to the left of the girl he knows is his platonic-twin-flame-soulmate? well, obviously, steve’s in love with him. but when he expresses how relieved and happy he is to have finally found someone who seems to love him as much as he loves them, the ridiculously attractive guy gets this really strange look on his face and starts to leave.

eddie, who’s been pining after steve for months while assuming he’s straight, is immensely confused and concerned when steve gets emotional and begs him not to go, that he’ll do better, that he won’t forget ever again, he swears he’ll be good.

robin, who’s been steve’s emergency contact since the day after starcourt and had known hopper was his emergency contact before her. robin, who knows steve’s parents hadn’t shown up to the hospital after that night with the demogorgon and still haven’t shown up. robin, who knows hopper had begrudgingly promised to put himself down as the emergency contact for anyone who hadn’t had loved ones shown their faces at the hospital after what had happened, and there was only one person who that policy applied to. robin, who knows exactly why steve had reacted the way he had, and who knows that steve’s been in love with eddie since he’d carried him out of the upside down and collapsed at the hospital as soon as they had eddie in an operating room.

robin, who knows that steve thinks he ruins things by loving people too much, too soon, watches eddie’s face contort into panic.

robin, who knows that eddie’s instinct to run has a nasty habit of showing itself at the worst moments, rushes out of the room and blocks the door with a heavy chair that she sits in until the boys are forced to talk about things.

and of course, when it’s over, when the boys have talked it through and when steve’s recovered his memory, robin is paid in free weed, a ‘thanks for getting our shit together for us’ party complete with a cake that has that exact mantra spelled out in icing, and eternal dibs on shotgun in steve’s front seat.

(dustin, who is not at all thrilled about that last one, sucks it up because steve is the happiest he’s ever seen him.)

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

nancy wheeler is a dog person. specifically, a Big Scary Dog person. she owns two enormous dobermans and has named them the cutesiest names possible. think of the sugary-sweetest name you can think of and then double the cuteness. they are the most well-trained dogs anyone has ever met in their entire lives. they would kill for her if commanded. they also think they are lap dogs and insist on snuggling with her as much as they can. they have designated beds in her living room with their names neatly embroidered in pink on each one. their barks are intense enough to give a passerby a heart attack. they both have pretty little pink collars that nancy rotates out for a new one every couple of days. their teeth are the sharpest teeth you’ve ever seen and they use them to bring nancy her notebooks and newspapers as gently as they can. she would die for them, but they would never let that happen. if she sits down beside them, they tower above her. it’s ridiculous.

ofc, if you wanna make it ronance (which i always do), when robin and nancy move in together, and the dogs can no longer fit on the bed with them (they are too big), nancy moves their beds from the living room into the bedroom and they sleep at the foot of the bed. someone once tried to break in and before robin could even dial 911, the dogs had it handled. nancy didn’t even have time to bring out her handgun before the dogs had the intruder pinned to the ground. they wagged their tails the whole time. robin loves them. she is also terrified of their power. nancy runs the house and all three of them—robin and the dogs—are perfectly aware of this.

[bigskyandthecoldgun]

okay but there’s real potential for a situation where like. robin pulls some harmless little prank on steve and he’s just Baffled bc in Popular Guy Circles, pranks have always been mean and/or humiliating for the person being pranked (like asking someone out as a prank, pantsing people, rigging locker shaving cream contraptions, etc) but he ended up laughing at robin’s prank because it wasn’t. like imagine he gets really into doing harmless little pranks after robin tells him “holy shit that’s not what pranks should be, steve, they’re meant to be fun!!”

and if you wanna flavor it with steddie angst, steve’s little pranks could culminate in some big misunderstanding where he asks eddie out and eddie assumes it’s just another prank

[steddie-fanfic-recs]

nothing else matters

by bigskyandthecoldgun

Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington & Dustin Henderson, Steve Harrington & Nancy Wheeler, Steve Harrington & The Party, Eddie Munson & The Party, Robin Buckley & Eddie Munson, Maxine "Max" Mayfield/Lucas Sinclair, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper Character: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler, Dustin Henderson, Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Lucas Sinclair, Erica Sinclair, Mike Wheeler, Wayne Munson, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Will Byers, Jonathan Byers, Joyce Byers, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Murray Bauman, Steve Harrington's Parents Additional Tags: Slow Burn, But Like And Also Not Really 'Cuz I'm Impatient, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington Are Best Friends, Is There Anything More Important Than Platonic Stobin? No!, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Good Babysitter Steve Harrington, Oblivious Steve Harrington, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Everybody Lives, Eddie Munson is Whipped, D&D Written By A Dungeon Master, Period Typical Attitudes, Smut, Gay Sex, (a little bit), (as a treat) Words: 279,729 Chapters: 31/31

Summary

“You ask a lot of questions about me,” Steve tells him. “Because you’re interesting,” Munson says, quiet and honest. “You’re a lot different than what I’ve heard.” Steve hums, eyes closed. “Yeah,” he says, eyes fluttering open when Munson takes the joint from him again, “you are, too. or: steve ditches the prom to get high.