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frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 9 months

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imagine eddie is the lead singer of corroded coffin but his natural singing voice is naturally like josh kiszka's from greta van fleet

it hurts his throat a lot to try and sing in the loud, hoarse, raspy screams he feels like he should be, being a metal band and all, so one of the nights at the hideout he's like "Okay, this is kinda different from what we try to play, but shit's killing my throat so here's this instead."

his 'real' singing voice wakes up those 5 drunk regulars and the next week they bring more people (and so did eddie apparently, because he can see steve, robin, and nancy grinning up at him from the crowd).

the boys play one of their own scream-y more traditional metal songs, then another, then when they try to close with a cover, one of the regulars yells out "Play that highway one again!"

"…The what?"

"That shit you played last week, the one about a highway girl!"

Eddie looks around at his bandmates, who look just as confused as he feels.

"This one..?" he plays the first notes, and that one regular and a couple others whoop and holler.

"Hell yeah, play that one again!"

"Uh…yeah, sure man, you got it.." Eddie shrugs nonchalant, but damn! he wants to show off for his friends! that shit last week was a fluke, one of his own songs he was sure the other guys didn't want to play in the first place.

he glances around at his bandmates and they all look shocked but delighted at the request, so they play it again (after an unneeded apologetic look from eddie, they really like eddie's song!).

when they finish, the now 10 people in the bar cheer and hoot and holler, and when they make their way off the stage, there are a couple people who stop them with "That was really good, do you have any more like that?", "Never heard nothin' like that before, you kids got somethin' special.", and "Y'all better be back next week, 'cause I sure will be." from the patrons, and a harried, ecstatic "Dude, please tell me you have more," from Jeff.

and also something about how since that night all of steve's thoughts are consumed completely by eddie's voice because "Holy shit did you hear him, Robin??"

idk, just eddie being a songwriter that can't help but get his influences from his uncle's preference for blues and folk music when writing and then again, can't help but mix it with his love of hard/classic rock but him never using any of it or even suggesting it to the other guys because it wasn't corroded coffin's and wasn't metal but that being exactly what shoots them into stardom

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devondespresso · 10 months

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steve and robin casually taking on each other's interests like its nothing. Robin watching sports games and occasionally giving her best go at basketball (and having an absolute blast swimming laps) with steve. steve listening to robin play and trying new weird music with her and even fucking around with her trumpet when she'll allow it. they're not the best at their new interests but they just do it together anyway and have fun just engaging with their hobbies together

just stobin hanging out and joining in on the things the other loves. not really into it personally but its that hobby with the other that makes it fun

#stobin #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #steve harrington #robin buckley #qpr stobin #stobin friendship #stobin headcanons #stobin brotp #platonic with a capital p #stranger things #this post was brought to you by A Ton Of My Friends Are Music Nerds And It Really Makes No Sense To Me But I Love It Because Its Them #devon thinks sometimes

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harringroveera · 3 months

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What if ST was a musical instead?

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artiststarme · 11 months

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Lonely Once Again

Steve hated being alone. He was used to it, he had to be after ten years of his parents escaping Hawkins to travel by themselves and forget they had a son that needed them. But just because he was used to being alone didn’t have to mean he liked it.

The world was too quiet when it was just you in it. The creaks of the walls, the settling of the floor, the breeze rustling the outside leaves. None of it could stand up to the oppressive silence of it all. So he tried to fill it with people. He filled his home with parties and lured his friends into companionship with promises of beer and weed. But it never lasted.

Steve always ended up alone. When his friends left, he wasn’t shocked. When Nancy left, he wasn’t surprised. Hurt, but not surprised. He was left once again with his battered ego and the suffocating silence that always crept too close.

The Upside Down changed a lot for him. He got adopted by a chaotic group of children and enveloped into their Party. He gained a soulmate in his coworker that he could’ve sworn had hated him before. There was never enough room for the quiet when Robin was around. Her frazzled words and long-winded rants kept character in the air and scared off the threat of silence. Steve never felt alone when she was near.

Their last bout with the Upside Down brought tormenting nightmares, gnarly scars, and a foreboding sense of paranoia. But it also brought Eddie Munson. Eddie was the exact opposite of everything Steve hated in the world. He was larger than life, loud, confident, and passionate about everything he set his mind to.

It didn’t take Steve long to fall in love with him. He put off his declarations out of fear of being abandoned by Eddie, just like Nancy had all those years ago. He stayed quiet in his love, forcing the words down and isolating himself in the process.

But Eddie wouldn’t stand for that. He pried the words out of him with gentle hands and loud love. After that, Steve was never alone in the silence again. Eddie kept him happy with whispered assurances, loud music that screeched in off-keys, and random conversations that Steve couldn’t help but love.

#does this even make sense? no idea #I see Steve as needing alone time but hating the quiet that comes with it #he always has to have music playing or a tv going to cover up the ringing in his ears #Eddie has no problem obliging him #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley

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theveryfruityfour · 5 months

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Steve be like hurry up and then Robin and Eddie are fighting over music lmfao

#eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #steve harrington #fruity four #ronance #steddie #stranger things #stranger things 4 #the fruity four #music argument #Eddie and Robin are silly

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imthursdaysyme · 2 months

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music for #stobinmonth day 8 where rob and steve have very different definitions of what ‘it rocks’ means

close ups:

they’re my babies i love them

#stranger things #drawing #art #digital art #steve harrington #robin buckley #stobin #stobinmonth2024 #stobinmonth #robin is like no it rocks stands only for things under the genre of rock music or other things in that area #like a casserole doesn’t rock but a really spicy chicken wing with really fucking good sauce rocks #and steve is like no it rocks is for literally anything and everything i like #etta james? rocks. this blanket? rocks. the sunrise? rocks. a really cool painting a kindergartener drew for me? rocks.

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milf-harrington · 1 year

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inspired by @flashyysins

Two days after Hawkins was almost split open, Robin saw a woman pacing in the hospital waiting room.

There were plenty of other people as well, sitting or standing or walking the length of the room in a similar pattern, but there was something about the woman that Robin noticed. It wasn't just that she was beautiful, which she was- it's that there was something familiar about her.

She was in blue jeans and an old-school Hawkins High Letterman jacket, light brown hair twisted up in a claw clip. Robin had never met her before, she'd remember that at the very least, but still.

Something about the angle of her nose or the gentle waves of her hair felt like something Robin had seen before, something she'd be able to find in a crowded room or across a street.

But Robin had somewhere to be, so she shook off the odd feeling, and followed the familiar path to Steve's room.

---

"Hey Stevie."

Steve's smile was tired, but he was looking more lively than when he'd passed out in the waiting room the other day, so she'd take it.

"Robbie, you left me hanging yesterday."

She snorted and dropped into one of the chairs by his bed, swinging her legs over the arm rest and cradling the bag she'd brought with her in her lap. "You're the one who fell asleep during visiting hours."

He rolled his eyes, and she happily noted the colour returning to his skin. "You should be exempt from visiting hours, you're like...essential to my recovery or something."

She laughed to hide the way those words curled soft and warm around her heart, eyes stinging until she blinked it away. The dumbass had almost over-worked himself to the point of no recovery. "'Exempt?' Someone's been reading a dictionary- did one of your children leave theirs behind?"

"Oh fuck you-"

They were interrupted by a knock on the door, and Robin was startled to see the woman from the waiting room hovering behind a nurse.

"You have a new visitor Mr Harrington."

Even knee-deep in confused intrigue, Robin couldn't help but dramatically mouth Mr Harrington over her own shoulder, pleased at the face he pulled in retaliation.

And then the door shut, and Steve looked up to find the woman-from-the-waiting room standing at the end of the bed.

Robin saw his brain grind to a halt at the sight of her.

It was silent (well, as much as it could be in a hospital room, what with all the beeping and whirring) as they took each other in, and Robin slowly brought her knees in closer to her chest like it would shield her from the vague awkwardness chewing at her.

And then-

"Fucking hell, Eve." The woman breathed out, white knuckling the bar at the end of his bed.

At the same time, Steve's face scrunched up as he demanded: "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean 'what am I doing here'? You're in hospital!"

"I thought you were in New York!"

"Yeah and then I got a call from Hawkins General that my little brother was dying in a hospital bed! Thank you for keeping me as your emergency contact, by the way."

"Well-" Steve spluttered and then crossed his arms over his chest, wincing at the pressure on his injuries. "Obviously."

Several things clicked into place like undone locks. Steve had almost been too comfortable about "feminine" topics for as long as she'd been an active member of his life- and even slightly before.

(He'd once run out of Scoops to buy her pads when she'd started her period in the middle of a shift. At the time she'd figured he was just trying really hard to beat the still a douche-bag allegations.)

Then there were the sweaters that he wouldn't confess to the origin of, the jokes he'd make about Robin "not being the only woman in his life" that she'd thought were about Nancy Wheeler, the vehement denial that the rom-com collection in the theatre room were his.

And, while Robin hated to enforce gender stereotypes, he'd always had the kind of mean girl cattiness that was usually only forged in teenaged girls and merely rubbed off on others.

Of course Steve Harrington had a sister.

Now Robin understood why she'd seemed so familiar in the waiting room.

"What happened to you?"

Simultaneously, Robin and Steve shifted uncomfortably, meeting each others eyes and coming up blank on both ends.

Steve's sister swallowed, jaw clenched and lip quivering as she look back and forth between them. She seemed suddenly fragile, like Steve after a nightmare, or right before he'd collapsed in the waiting room after carrying Eddie inside.

Steve cracked first. "Lou-"

"Don't fucking lie to me, Stephen. This is the third time you've ended up in hospital since your senior year."

Steve blinked, startled. "How did you-"

"I'm your sister." She seethed, and Robin could see flickers of Steve with an axe in his hand in the arch of her shoulders. "You might have told the hospital not to call but I still have friends in this town. If that Hargrove asshole wasn't already dead-"

"Lou-"

"Don't-"

"It was a serial killer." Robin blurted, drawing Steve's sisters' attention to her. "I don't now if you heard about it, but someone was going around killing teenagers. It started with Chrissy Cunningham- she was a cheerleader? kind of cute in a preppy sort of way, but, um- she was killed in our friends living room and then he sort of got blamed for it because, I mean, it was pretty sketchy but he didn't do it! I promise, Eddie didn't- anyway, there was this whole witch hunt, and two more people died which just sort of made it worse for Eddie and a group of us were trying to, like, clear his name, you know? Because we knew he didn't do it and we didn't want him to get killed next, but then one of our other friends - this girl, Max, she's a riot - she was being targeted by the real killer so we came up with this...really stupid plan to catch the killer but everything went sort of tits up and Eddie and Steve both got, well-" She waved her hands at the bandage around Steve's throat and the bruising around his wrists from the vines. "And Max, she broke her elbow and her knee when she fell, and I think Dustin twisted his ankle? So now Max and Eddie and Steve are all in hospital and Dustin has these crutches that he doesn't want to use but, I mean, Steve always makes him because it's Steve, and we don't really know if Eddie's okay yet but no one's come to tell us he's not so we're still hopeful-"

"Robin."

Robin shut her mouth, and took a deep breath through her nose. Steve's sister was staring at her in the startled sort of awe that Robin was used to seeing when she got going. She had the lungs of a trumpet player, it wasn't hard for her to talk until she forgot where she'd started.

"You fought a serial killer?" Steve's sister - Lou? - asked, and Robin hysterically felt like she should offer up her seat.

Steve, bless him, only nodded. Lou stared, lips pressed into a thin line and nostrils flared slightly.

And then, quite abruptly, she was straightening her back and stepping around the bed to hold out a hand to Robin. "Louisa Harrington."

Robin blinked, and shook her hand. "Robin Buckley."

Louisa nodded, like that made sense, and smiled the same cupids-bow smile as her brother. "The best friend- it's good to meet the other half of my brothers brain. Clearly the better half, considering you aren't the one in the hospital bed."

Steve made an offended noise, and Robin grinned.

#i've had this concept lodged in my brain since i first read flashyysins post #especially bc i am a little brother to an older sister so now it's Personal #anyway steve's sister (in my world) is named Louisa and their nicknames for each other are Eve and Lou #bc when she was little Lou would call him ''Stevie-evie-eve'' and it just slowly got shortened to ''eve'' overtime #and when he was old enough to know what nicknames were he wanted them to match so she became lou #and their parents HATE that they call each other that bc Lou sounds like a boys name and Eve is a girls name #and they're like ''get rekt youre never home anyway''#i've also decided that the person Karen Wheeler is talking to on the phone when she calls steve's house in season 1 #is his sister not his mum #anyway everyone meet louisa harrington she lives in new york studying classical music #she visits randomly and she and steve call each other fortnightly or whenever anything interesting happens #my writing #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington #robin buckley

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jonathanbiers · 1 year

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eddie was both the lead guitarist and vocalist in corroded coffin up until the upside down happened to him.

he healed, regained his strength, made up for the months he was in the hospital and couldn't play his guitar. he wasn't even that rusty really, just a little weak in the hands after everything. he's impatient and easily frustrated about it but looking back, it doesn't actually take too long to get back to where he was.

the problem is his voice.

the health of his vocal chords wasn't exactly the first thing on his mind when the bats were going at him and he was screaming for his life, it wasn't even on the list. and when he tried to get back into jamming with the guys and found he couldn't hit the notes he used to and it fucking hurt when he tried, he was absolutely crushed. that was an outlet for him, a way to get the complex emotions out in the form of poetry, to bare the softest parts of his soul and then shield them with killer guitar solos and brain-melting drums, now taken from him.

enter robin, who's become a close friend after everything they went through together. they bond over being queer in a small conservative town, they butt heads over eddie's smoking habit, they listen to each other's music and come to actually like it, they vent to each other about their romantic misadventures, they become best friends rather quickly.

so robin's heart breaks for eddie when he tells her about this newest thing the year of '86 took from him. she does her best to reassure him, she hugs him and lets him mope as long as he needs, they watch eddie's comfort movies together, and it helps him feel less like shit.

then one day, the two of them and steve are on a little impromptu road trip, and they're singing in the car. eddie's heard robin sing before, she likes to put on silly voices and sing along to the top-40s eddie loves to tease steve about. but he's never heard her sing before, not like this, not to a song she obviously has tremendous love for. her voice is warm and the song she's singing is a little soft and eddie is captivated in an instant. he has to stop himself from pulling over on the highway just to urge her to pursue a career as a musician.

robin tries to brush it off, jokes, "i'll do it only if you let me join corroded coffin."

"done," eddie agrees without second thought.

robin thinks he's joking too, but he's not. he's so not joking, he's too busy trying to imagine what it would sound like. he thinks it'd sound pretty fucking good, such a soft voice to balance out the harshness of their music. he knows robin's capable of other styles, too, he's heard her impressions of the screaming sometimes utilized in his preferred genre, her natural speaking voice has a nice bit of rasp to it, but something about the gentleness with which she was singing in the car just speaks to eddie. if it'd be anything like what his mind is conjuring up, he'd describe it as hauntingly beautiful, and he just has to hear it for himself. even if nothing comes of it.

robin still thinks he's joking when he sets the mic up at corroded coffin's weekly band practice, which both steve and robin had taken to attending. but he isn't, he digs his notebook out of his backpack and hands it to her, walks her through the melodies and she picks it up quick. she's been in band for years, music is something that just comes naturally to her. eddie doesn't know why the fuck he didn't think of this sooner.

it ends up sounding just as good as he imagined. her range isn't the same as eddie's used to be but it works, it morphs their music into something mesmerizing, something that bends the limits of the genre. robin sings eddie's lyrics on tuesday at the hideout mostly to entertain eddie because she loves her friend so much even though he's fucking crazy, and at least half a dozen people approach them after, tell them how different it sounds from what they're used to, how instead of being put off by it, it just works. they seem just as blown away by it as eddie was.

robin joins the band officially not long after that, and they start gaining attention locally. anyone who listened to them before would tell you they were good, but being a woman-fronted metal band wasn't all that common yet, and paired with the new elements robin's voice brought to the songs, they stood out from their peers a lot more easily. they're playing in a dive bar in indianapolis when they're approached by a scout from a record label, and they all just kind of look at each other, a mix of disbelief and happiness and seriously is this fucking happening right now?

they don't take it - eddie's heard of the record label this guy is from, and they're known for screwing over their artists and leaving them scrounging for enough to put food on the table. but it's a push for the five of them to start taking it a bit more seriously, start on an actual cohesive album instead of a bunch of songs with little relevance to each other slapped together on a cassette.

eddie and robin work together on the lyrics, and their first self-made album ends up being something that's hard to pin down to one specific genre. but it's good shit, eddie can tell, they get some tapes made and sell them when they play at bars around indiana. the offers keep coming, but they're smart, and they know their worth. they wait for the one that fits, and it's fucking perfect.

#stranger things #eddie munson #robin buckley #eddie munson headcanons #robin buckley headcanons #can you tell one of my favorite subgenres of metal is when the music heavy and the voice soft #platonic robin and eddie is everything to meeeee #*#*writing

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fleursfairies · 1 month

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im in a stranger things character music mood so here are some artists each character for sure likes

will: super obvious but the clash, the cure, david bowie, billy idol, the police, talking heads, etc. (i feel like this is a very basic answer but its the truth)

mike: he is so 90s so weezer, oasis, radiohead, etc (i already made a post abt this)

dustin: hall&oats, tears for fears, wham!, KISS, TOTO, a-ha, michael jackson, duran duran, baltimora

lucas: idky the first thing i thought of was bananarama but he would so love bananarama. beegees, michael jackson, earth wind & fire, jackson 5, stevie wonder, george michael, prince, idk

el: i dont think she really has time to listen to music but she would like popular 80s pop. like cyndi lauper, madonna, wham!, electric light orchestra, kim wilde, stacey q, the gogos, tiffany, soft cell, reo speedwagon, abba, bonnie tyler

max: kate bush obviously, blondie, duran duran, bon jovi, pixies, soft cell, tears for fears, rick springfield, no doubt, billy idol, pat benatar, tiffany, joan jett, etc

max and el are similar but el's is more 'listening to music for the first ever time' vibes while max is more lived in

jonathan: talking heads, the ramones, the clash, bowie, duran duran but only girls on film, the cramps, depeche mode, R.E.M., phil collins, the kinks, the animals, billy idol, the cure, the cars, blue oyster cult, jimi hendrix, styx, pixies, pink floyd, cheap trick, genesis, ozzy osbourne, foreigner, etc. i could go on and on. i think there would be a little more 60s and 70s in here too.

nancy: madonna, heart, reo speedwagon, billy joel, roxy music, cyndi lauper, joan jett, pat benatar, hall & oats, blondie, kim wilde, whitney houston, kate bush, tiffany, wham!, soft cell, bananarama, bonnie tyler, stacey q, lita ford, the bangles, cher, pet shop boys, john mellencamp, paula abdul, u2, olivia newton john, etc

steve: bon jovi, survivor, journey, boston, yes, DEVO, dead or alive, eddie money, kansas, foreigner, scorpions, warrant, etc. basically just basic (but good) bands that make him feel like a badass LMAO

robin: idk, just a slightly dorkier version of nancys playlist if that makes sense. i can envision it in my head i just cant execute it

joyce: heart, fleetwood mac, the mamas & the papas, journey, foreigner, boston, tom petty, toto, guns n roses, janis joplin, the rolling stones, jimi hendrix, blue oyster cult, ELO, led zeppelin, grateful dead, pink floyd, jefferson airplane

hopper: bad company, joe cocker, bob seger, eagles, the cars, jefferson starship, bob dylan, journey, styx, johnny cash, bruce springsteen

i could probably add so many more artists but it would probably go off the rails so i just gave u the basic ones

also i was looking at character playlists on spotify and most of them sucked (steve harrington is not listening to mitski) so heres some inspo for actual music they would listen to if you want to make a more accurate playlist

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netflixnormalthings · 10 months

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robin and nancy can't die they need to experience the 90's. just like in general

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #in which i talk abt things #johnathan too him and robs need to be pretentious about radiohead together #also I KNOW robin is going to get really into all the riot grrl bands she WILL play low quality tapes and cd's of underground punk girls #i could see nancy enjoying a few bikini kill songs too as a more popular band robin listens too #maybe they get into 10000 maniacs + natalie merchant's solo stuff as well #but also the movies! the fashion! the music! the social justice! cmon let em see it #nancy will eat up all the 90's romcom shit i know it #+ those two will wear docs all the time i know it trust me

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corroded-hellfire · 3 months

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Masterlist will continue to be added to as submissions come in 🥰

I Want You To Want Me - Eddie Munson x Reader by @munson-blurbs

A Hot, Cheesy Pizza Guy - Argyle x Reader by @wheels-of-despair

Until I Found You - Billy Hargrove x Reader by @miheartsedthings

Nancy’s Mom - Karen Wheeler x Reader by @wheels-of-despair

Can You Feel It? - Billy Hargrove x Reader by @wheels-of-despair

#eddie munson x reader #argyle x reader #steve harrington x reader #billy hargrove x reader #robin buckley x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #jonathan byers x reader #this is music event #fic rec

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helpimstuckposting · 2 months

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I’m a ghost and you are a shadow

—

They made their way back to the Harrington house in relative quiet. Steve didn’t feel as panicked as he had that morning thanks to the talk he'd had with Eddie. Though, whatever reaction the gate had to Steve was… concerning to say the least.

He felt grimy and sweaty as he trudged through the last few trees and into his backyard. Wearing the same clothes two days in a row wasn’t Steve’s best idea. He was glad no one had commented on it, though he was a bit surprised even Mike hadn’t said anything. He kicked off his muddy shoes at the back door, following the rest of the Jabberwocks into the house.

Yesterday he had felt too weird about going through OtherSteve’s closet, though right now he just felt kind of desperate to change. The others congregated on the couches in the living room while Steve headed straight for the stairs, calling out that he’d change and be right back down. It would be a bit before the rest of the party joined them anyway.

He felt a little more comfortable in the house on his second day, a little less worried that OtherSteve would pop out like some cosmic entity and scold him for the intrusion. It still didn’t feel like he belonged, would take a while for that to happen — if he even got the chance — and Steve was only just beginning to imagine himself staying long enough for that to happen. If Eddie was right, if they figured out a way for him to stay, if he didn’t have to leave, his life would be so different. Maybe he could be okay again.

He walked into the bedroom, closing the door gently behind him, and made his way over to the closet. It was a simple wooden door, nothing fancy, not even a mirror hanging from the frame.

He paused when he opened it, unsure of what he was really seeing at that moment. Half of the closet was full of henleys and soft-looking cable knit sweaters, light colored t-shirts and various colored jackets he’d expected from basically his own closet, but the other half was clad in leather and ripped black tank tops, band tees and torn jeans. It looked like Eddie’s clothes. It looked like Eddie lived here.

Did Eddie keep clothes in Steve’s closet? Why? He looked back over his shoulder at the wall of posters full of bands he didn’t know, eyes flitting back and forth between the few posters with names he’d recognized before, the bands from Eddie’s battle jacket.

Was this actually Eddie’s room? But then why didn’t Eddie tell him, force Steve into one of the other spare rooms last night instead of taking one for himself? He clearly knew this was the room Steve expected to be in. There were also trinkets that definitely belonged to Steve on the desk and nightstand, and half the closet were clothes Eddie would never touch, let alone wear in public.

Steve stepped dazedly into the small space, thoughts running around in confused tangles of yarn that weren’t quite connecting. He thought back to the photos on the kitchen wall with Steve and Eddie wrapped around each other, and the countless times since he woke up here yesterday morning where Eddie looked at him like something was missing, like he was thinking of something specific that Steve couldn’t put his finger on.

If Eddie had simply moved into the Harrington house for some reason, that still didn’t explain why this room seemed to be half his, like they shared it. It just… well, Steve wasn’t stupid, he was there when Eddie had come out to him just that morning, he knew what this room and these things implied. Everything here pointed to a life lived together, but Steve was straight as far as he knew so could that be right? Sure, Eddie was comfortable to be around no matter which universe he was in. He was… gentle, despite his loud demeanor, and he was good at quieting the bad thoughts rattling around in Steve’s mind.

Even throughout their first stint in the Upside Down together, a brush of their sides or a squeeze to the shoulder, the soft dimpled smile Eddie had tossed his way, it all settled something in Steve’s chest. He’d thought this Eddie and Steve were closer, really close judging by the way Eddie had disappeared the day before but this was more than he’d ever expected. Was it even possible? Was Steve just reading into things?

Slowly, he reached out to touch a leather sleeve in front of him. It was soft, worn. He thought about today in the woods, how he kept focusing on Eddie’s lips, how he remembered doing that before, too. How often had he been sneaking those glances? Even without realizing?

Steve brought the sleeve to his nose, slowly breathing in the scent of tobacco and leather, and hints of the cologne Eddie sometimes sprayed when he remembered. This was definitely Eddie’s stuff, no doubt in Steve’s mind. This single closet smelled more like home than Steve’s whole house ever did, and maybe that meant he and Eddie weren’t so out-of-left-field as he’d thought.

He stepped back, letting the sleeve drop and opening his eyes. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed them. He’d ask Eddie about this tonight, after the party left and they were alone. For now, Steve turned to the other side of the closet and swapped his shirt for a Hawkins high school band sweatshirt and a pair of gray sweatpants. If they were about to have another planning session that could change Steve’s life, he might as well be comfortable.

He tossed the dirty clothes into a hamper at the back of the closet and turned to leave, his eye catching briefly on a lone shoebox sitting on the top shelf. It was on Steve’s side of the closet, sitting among what he assumed were just boxes of clutter. It would be easily overlooked, a shoebox in a closet, but Steve had the same exact one in his own closet.

It was an old box, weathered at the corners but still sturdy. He’d put every happy thing inside of it; his favorite movie tickets, the yoyo his nanny bought him for his seventh birthday, a pressed flower from his first boutonniere. He’d put photos of him and Nancy inside, some sparkly rocks that Robin had just placed in his hand and called pretty, one of the miniatures the kids had painted and left in his living room one day. Little things. Things that mattered. It’s the box he would grab if the house caught fire.

Hesitantly, he stepped forward and tugged the closet door closed, arms reaching out to grab the box from the shelf before he had even made up his mind. He shouldn’t look. He really shouldn’t look, he didn’t have the right to. But… he was Steve. He should know the kind of life he could have had, he should know what kind of things he’d find important or meaningful. Right?

He took the lid off the box.

It was full of trinkets, just like he'd expected, but the stories they told were of a different life. Instead of a yoyo, there was a little book of nursery songs for beginners to play on the saxophone. There were three miniatures instead of one, painted in matching color palettes. He found more sparkly rocks, different than his own, and friendship bracelets made from chunky beads.

In the corner of the box, tucked away neatly, was a small, clear container with polaroids inside. Steve turned his back to the closet door and slid down it, setting the box in his lap as he hunched over to look.

He picked up the little container with both hands, sliding the pictures out with care. They were just like the photos in the kitchen, of trips to the beach and sleepovers, of pool parties and birthdays. The party in various groups showed up, Robin was in most of them. Eddie was in every single one.

He and Steve stood close, draped over each other or with faces squished together. In some, they were looking directly at the camera or making faces. In others, they looked at each other. There were pictures where Eddie looked at the camera while Steve looked at him, and Steve… Steve looked at him like he hung the moon. Like the sun rose and fell only to see him, like the stars themselves couldn't shine as brightly. Like every other cliche that’s been written and sung and professed about since the dawn of time.

Steve had never looked at anyone that way. Nancy was right, he was just bullshit. Is that how she felt with Jonathan? Is that how it’s supposed to feel?

He traced his own expression, completely enamored. How many times had the Steve of this world sat right here, holding these pictures, seeing the way he looked at Eddie? Did they look at these pictures together? What did it feel like to wear that expression? It was hard to look away, to pull himself from the trance his own face had him in, but there was one more picture and when Steve saw it, it was like the world stopped around him.

They were kissing. He and Eddie. They were kissing. Steve's hand was threaded in Eddie's hair, the brown tendrils curling through his fingertips. Their eyes were closed, fully immersed in the other, lips together in what was definitely not a chaste kiss.

As he stared, he couldn’t help but wonder what Eddie’s lips tasted like, what they felt like to be pressed against his. Eddie knew what they tasted like, knew what he tasted like. Steve wondered if he thought of that every time they locked eyes. Was Eddie the type to kiss fast and hard? Would he push forward with the confidence of all his tabletop lunchroom rants? Would he press hard like he stamped his combat boots into the dirt?

Or did he kiss soft? Soft like the way Steve’s eyes looked in the previous pictures. Soft like the sunset over lovers lake, soft as the tendrils of hair OtherSteves fingers carded through as they kissed.

Steve squeezed his eyes together to stop the burning. He shoved the stack of pictures back into the small container, shoved the image to the back of his mind, too. The Steve in those pictures was dead. The man who looked at Eddie with stars in his eyes was dead. He shouldn’t be thinking about Eddie like that, it had only been six months, he couldn’t image what he was going through, how much Steve’s presence was fucking with him. No wonder he spent the whole first day avoiding Steve, he’s surprised Eddie had spoken to him at all.

He sighed, breath pushing through his lips in a shuddered rush while he tried to pretend his heart wasn’t clawing its way up his throat. Steve carded his fingers through his hair, shoving it out of his face. He reached out to put the Polaroids back into the box and paused. In the crowded corner he’d pulled the pictures from, there was another box. It was small and black, just a cardboard box with a lid, and it was just small enough for the Polaroids to cover up. Or to hide?

He swallowed, suddenly his mouth was too dry. He shouldn’t look. If OtherSteve was hiding it, he shouldn’t look. He shouldn’t be looking at any of this.

He reached out to it, fingers tracing over the plain black lid.

“Steve!” Robins voice shouted from the staircase landing.

He jumped, choking on the heart in his throat and worried that Robin would burst into the room to find him snooping, but no further noises wandered toward his ears. He quickly shoved the Polaroids back into the box, refusing to look at the little black box he just covered back up.

“Just a second!” He called out, carefully putting the shoebox back on the top shelf, hoping it looked like he hadn’t touched it at all.

Robin was waiting for him at the bottom landing of the staircase. The second he looked her in the eye, Steve could tell she was desperately trying to seem casually uninterested. She leaned against the banister, eyes trying to cling to his own but she kept taking glances at his sweatshirt. She knew. She knew he went into the closet, that he saw Eddie’s half. He kept eye contact, knew she would crack eventually, especially as she fidgeted more and more.

She glanced past the stairs, into the living room before darting her eyes back to Steve’s, then the door behind her. The other two groups would be back any minute.

She stepped forward, dropping the façade of ignorance, and put a hand on his arm.

“Ask him when the kids leave, okay?” she whispered, glancing down at the sweatshirt again. He nodded. He’d ask tonight, when the house was cleared and silent, and they were wrapped in the compelling embrace of the darkness. It was always easier to speak honestly at night, whether it was the calm brought by the silence or the dark that obscured your vision, it didn’t feel as vulnerable. It felt safe, like the darkness itself could keep your secrets. He’d wait until then to talk to Eddie.

—

More midnight talks on the horizon for our boys, but next up is figuring out what the fuck that weird tree is doing

@devondespresso @weirdandabsurd42 @sirsnacksalot @space-invading-pigeon @aliea82 @goodolefashionedloverboi @emly03 @bestwifehaver @mentallyundone @13catastrophic-blues @estrellami-1 @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @likelylad @aellafreya @wxrmland @shunna @fangirltofangod @howincrediblysapphicofyou @1-8oo-wtfbro @grimmfitzz

#something something nursery rhymes vs dead flowers #something something lost figurine vs gifted figurines #Steve’s mother gave him the music book #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #robin buckley #the party #hurt/comfort #steddie fic #stranger things fanfiction #helpimstuckwriting #parallel universe au

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