a leaky space blob

22 confused and pissed off 🫂

[gorsho444]

On the line

[lilypetalls]

caught beneath the landslide

CHAMPAGNE SUPERNOVA - OASIS

note- i am depressed and in love with ryland grace. i adore stratt really. dad! ryland forever. you can't tell me he didn't volunteer for the program solely for his school kids.

synopsis- you and ryland can't decipher the familiarity between you. neither can you decode the polaroid of a little girl hidden in the back of your personal belongings.

___________________

WHO AM I? 

Written on the dried whiteboard in massive letters. You knew the basics. You were here to save Earth from the star eating Astrophage on a one way trip into hell, and that both your last names were Grace. So not extensive. But it was something. Ryland was remembering things way faster than you were, and frankly it was job trying to keep up. Rocky tumbled about in his closed off xenonite space, offering theories and “great words of encouragement”. 

So far, there was little to nothing written down. Apart from RELATION. You knew you had to be related somehow, hell a coma couldn’t remove the sense of familiarity that lingered with his nerdy presence. Nevertheless, the attempts in getting there were in futility. 

“Stratt. Stratt, Stratt, Stratt, Lokken, Carl, Dubois, Yao…” 

“Names, question?”

“Stating names isn’t going to get us anywhere, Ry.”  Ry? Where had that come from?

“It might do! You don’t know how the cognitive brain works.” 

“Yes I-“ 

___________________

“I hereby grant you full clearance for all classified knowledge pertaining to Project Hail Mary.” Stratt’s thick dutch accent echoed in your ears. Ryland sat across the heavy meeting table, blue eyes drowning in concern, played off nonchalance, and what you perceived as fear. The flickering screen set up around the front of the room displayed exaggeratedly smiling faces. DUBOIS- SCIENCE SPECIALIST. YAO- PILOT, CAPTAIN. GRACE- ENGINEER. GOD SAVE THE HAIL MARY, GOD SAVE EARTH. Your own reflective smile made you feel sick. 

“Welcome to the Hail Mary.”

Your cabin was small. Cozy, as Ryland liked to put it. There was one big double bed in the corner, with a smaller bed scooched beside it and virtually nothing else. You’re almost frozen still, watching him describe the structure of stars to a little girl, no older than six, nodding along intensely as if she understood each and every word, which you could be certain she didn’t. Ryland was Stratt’s second in command. You were the engineer set to head up. A family from San Francisco ripped up and thrown onto Stratt’s Vat to be inevitably dispensed. 

“Mommy!” She squealed. It was like her name was floating just out of reach. “Daddy won’t let me go!” She giggled, twisting in his grip that was supposed to stay strong forever. 

“Never!” Her high pitched laughter was like music to your ears. “See that?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s Sol. The sun. What keeps the earth warm and inhabitable.” You’re still stuck watching his small whispers, her intense stare. “Daddy’s gonna keep the sun warm for you, hey? Just for Molly.” He playfully grabbed he to throw her up above him and catch her. She squealed.

Molly. 

____________________

The Hail Mary has never been more silent. The polaroid of the little girl hidden in the back of your possessions suddenly had a name, a voice and a parentage. Your little girl. You definitely weren’t related the way you’d initially thought.

“…Rocky interrupts humans thinking to ask, question?”

You flinch. “Y-Yeah?”

“Grace gone green. Unnatural for human biology. Rocky worry.”

You blinked upwards at Ryland, who was indeed a slightly worrying tinge. He snapped back, hurling directly into one of the tanks Rocky had begun building. 

“No! Grace defiles Rocky’s work.” The Eridian pouted. 

You jumped up on reflex, hands finding their places against his forearms. “Hey, it’s okay… shit.” His breathing was shaky, you couldn’t really blame him for that. 

“Molly.” He stated, gasping for breath after a moment. 

You nodded quietly. “Molly.” What else were you supposed to say? That it’s not shit to suddenly remember a very intimate relationship with who was just your co-worker in isolation and your shared daughter who you’re now never going to see again because for some goddamn reason you still haven’t recalled why Ryland is on a space suicide mission too? Hell, why did you think it was sensible to volunteer if you had a daughter?  Oh god, you think you might be sick too. Rocky can almost sense it, on very high alert, carapace peaked upwards in tension.

You can see it. Her little face, her soft blue eyes and beaming smile, exactly like Grace’s. It makes you want to shove yourself in the airlock. 

“Who is Molly, question?” Rocky taps on the glass. A lump sticks in your throat. 

“A- Pebble. Our pebble. Does that make sense?” You stammered slightly. 

“Grace and Grace have biological offspring like Eridian Pebble?” Rocky questions. Ryland makes a pained noise. Resisting one yourself, you exhale shakily. Your hands don’t really know what to do around Ryland’s arms, but he doesn’t seem uncomfortable in the least. “Yeah, Rock.” 

“Did not realise Grace and Grace were mates." Ry lets out a mildly amused huff- neither did we. "This is amaze! Human connection study! Rocky will discover lots about human culture and behaviour! Where Molly, question? Rocky would like to greet Grace and Grace offspring.” The alien rambled excitedly. You’re not sure how a text to speech can possess vocal emotional value, but Rocky exceeds expectations. 

_______________________

“It was an explosion. A milligram of astrophage was mistakenly doled out. Human error. Both our Science Specialists, Dubois and Shapiro have passed.” Stratt spoke formally like always. This woman was consistently no bullshit, no emotion. You gulped nervously, eyeing Ry in the corner of your eye who looked simply devastated. Your husband has always been an empath to a fault - wait husband?- and he really had been fond of Dubois and Shapiro. Stratt’s gaze landed firmly on Grace, piercing. Almost threatening. It makes you feel uncomfortable in the already hostile meeting room, shifting in your seat. 

“What?” Ryland states, awkwardly laughing. The whole board is staring at him now. Sickening anxiety curls in your stomach. You think he knows the inevitable. You can’t help but deny the truth yourself. 

“You’re the leading scientist on astrophage biology in the world.” Stratt almost soft launches. The thought makes you want to laugh a little, dimmed by the tensing feeling of unknown. Unnaturally soft and subtle, her voice really throws Grace off and all you can really think about is reaching to comfort him. Your hand lands on his thigh underneath the table, gently squeezing it. He doesn’t blink, but you can tell it’s helping. You’ve never needed words to know the impact you have on him. 

“I- that’s a dramatic statement…” He really never could take a compliment. 

“It’s the only choice. You match the gene. We can’t train anyone else in time”.

Ryland goes sickly pale. There it is, blank and forward in pure Eva bluntness. Your brain clouds, like an alarms going off. You’re willingly going up, you know the risks, you’ve made the arrangements, Grace has made his peace with it, he’s to stay with your girl. Let her know she’s safe and loved, who the hell is going to stay with your girl? Ryland can’t handle space, he can hardly handle someone pointing out his hair’s askew! You can’t do this to him, Stratt can’t- 

You can’t even hear the conversation happening right before your glassed, frozen eyes. Ry’s small, fearful voice, Stratt’s straight, leading demeanour. How can she say this, how can she be so calm, the pitch of Ryland’s voice alone is sending you into a protective force you can’t restrain. And then- 

“I can’t go up! I’m not an astronaut! She’s the astronaut, she’s done the training, I- we have the plan, I can’t even moonwalk, I put the NOT in astronaut!”

“Molly.” It flew out your mouth, urgent, anxious. “What the hell is going to happen to Molly? You can’t take us both away, I did this on the condition he’d stay!” You exclaimed. Stratt’s face didn’t change. It didn’t even falter. 

“Molly will be fine.”

“What do you mean fine?!” His eyebrows furrowed in distress. “She’s not going to be fine, oh god! We don’t have family, who-“

“She’ll be dealt with.” 

“Dealt with? That’s my daughter, you don’t just deal with her! You can’t send us both-“ 

“Your daughter isn’t worth the sacrifice of humanity.” 

Ryland’s chair screeches in anger as he stands. You’ve never seen such volatile emotion on him, especially directly towards other people. “Say that again.”

“The survival of the human race is my primary concern”. 

“My fucking daughter is my primary concern!” You gulped. Ry never swore. The field of thought was drenched in worry and thoughts of your daughter. 

“She’ll be dealt with. Personally.”

“You can’t take us from her! You can’t take me from her- please!” It’s purely begging now. Tears unwillingly slipping down your face as Grace essentially pleads with the board of stone faced officials. “That’s my Molly- She only eats peeled carrots with the special type of hummus, and she loves the stars, and she wants to be a princess unicorn dictator. And- and her favourite song is Champagne Supernova because she thinks it's funny when I censor 'high'- and you can’t take her from me, from us!” He cried. 

You can’t breathe. The safety you felt of knowing your daddy’s girl was going to be safe with Ryland is gone. His sobs fade into white noise, an amalgamation of fear, constriction and purely Molly. Mols, your sweet girl. Before you can even realise what’s happening, Ryland’s dragging you up with a force you couldn’t even comprehend, yelling “RUN”. You don’t even realise the officials after you with syringes, weapons of damnation to a life without your daughter, without your family. 

The last thing you see is your husband’s clawing marks in the dirt and the weeping of Molly’s name before everything goes dark. 

_____________________

“Rocky not understand. Grace and Grace offspring where?” 

[autisticlittleguy]

So Rocky has a bunch of permanent carvings along his carapace like family crest, rulers and protractors, marriage symbol, etc. I assume thats normal for Eridians, but the possibility that it's socially equivalent to getting full body tattoos for humans is funny. Imagine seeing this super inked out dude, but you look closer and its just a bunch of tattoos like.

"I LOVE MY HUSBAND," "FAMILY MAN," "ENGINEERING4LYFE."

[lilypetalls]

i recently read the book Project Hail Mary and adored it to bits and pieces (the little doctor who fan in me is screaming) and had to watch the movie. so I present what no one asked for and has already seen seventy times:

the analysis of project hail mary book vs movie because i can’t like anything without feeding into obsession.

-rocky is naked the whole movie. in the book he wears clothes. i’m slightly disturbed, but i did appreciate his celebration clothes

-the lack of rylands little ‘i commend you to the stars’ when he releases Yao and Ilyuhinka was sad

-not enough of the probe experiments. wasn’t greatly scientific, but i can kinda see why so

-very happy we got to see rocky’s ship!! that doesn’t happen really to that extent in the book, and i was very pleased.

-amazing movie soundtrack. insane. will be listening to.

-less depth on the actual creation of project hail mary. which ehhh, did i need, but it would’ve made cool backstory. i would’ve liked to see the whole climatologist situation and the nuking of antartica, probably would’ve raised the stakes a bit more, icl.

-loved a bit of karaoke me

-stratt and grace’s relationship! why was she so nice to him? i kinda dug it but she’s so much meaner in the book. i would’ve liked her big speech, but i can see how that’s bad for retention.

-the hail mary is so much bigger than i envisioned. and rocky’s ship does not look how it’s described. but rocky’s ship is cooler so i can’t actually complain. the nickname for the robot arms is also cute.

-random but i miss his space sludge. ramen was iconic, especially his little handmade ship, but just. space sludge. yk

-i loved rocky having a voice. so cute. and rocky’s character design was literally perfect. i hadn’t seen what he looked like when i read the book and honestly was exactly how i envisioned.

-can’t lie, felt underwhelmed by taumoeba outbreak. end of the movie, needs to be quick and all that, but it feels massive in the book and it just felt sorta rushed? idk

-they made him so much more of a coward in the movie 😭 high key made it sadder so… gut wrenching.

enjoy my opinions no one asked for xx

[lilypetalls]

you’ve got a golden line

henderhop should’ve been canon.

only short, i want to write several cute little epilogue henderhop scenarios so if anyone has any requests, lmk!

———————————————

“janie?! have you seen my- case thingy? fuck my glasses-“

soft footsteps tumbled up the stairs. jane appeared in the doorway of their bedroom, long brown hair slung in a ponytail, still in her my little pony pyjamas they’d purchased despite both being the grown age of twenty four. she threw a tie and glasses case at his stomach, eliciting a quiet “oof”.

“you need to keep better track of your things.” she stated, arms crossed. a small smile crept up on her unconsciously.

“yeah yeah yeah.” dustin mumbled, fixing the tie sloppily about his neck. “i’m just really fuckin’ nervous about this interview. for NASA, jane. fuckin’ NASA!” he fixed his rampant curls in the mirror to little change, huffing.

she smiled, moving to fix the top of his tie like she used to do for hopper. “yes, NASA.”

“NASA!” he repeated in anxious enthusiasm.

“NASA.” jane giggled. “there’s no-one more qualified for the job than you, dust. trust me, i don’t lie.” she pecked his nose. “you’ll be perfect.”

dustin blushed, hands clammy as they moved to hold jane’s waist. “you think so?”

“know so.”

she brushed down his curls, licking her finger to rub at a spot on his cheek.

“there you go.” she smiled, pecking his lips quickly. her eyes drifted to the clock. “you need to get going, it’s five past already.”

“five past?! fuck-“

dustin sloppily kissed jane, rushing past to grab what he called his ‘employed man’ briefcase steve had gifted him on his graduation from princeton. “love you!” he yelled, messing with the keys as he essentially burst out the door.

“good luck!” she called from the top of the stairs, giggling.

[lilypetalls]

start your life in the middle of the jungle

synopsis- you’re laid in hospital and dustin can’t fathom being able to move on and graduate without you.

dustin henderson x reader

dustin henderson and steve harrington.

my cuties

———————————————

dustin can’t. he just can’t.

graduation is in two days. he’s supposed to be valedictorian. if anyone deserves it- it’s him. and he’s off to princeton in a few weeks. on a full scholarship, his mum’s basically beaming with pride all the time now.

and then there’s you.

laid up in that goddamn white and blue checkered bed, the various monitors measuring your blood pressure and overall body temperature beeping away in the background. but always smiling. giving him weak waves and fragile laughs. the final battle around a year ago wasn’t without it’s losses.

jane.

and you. you’d survived by the skin of your teeth, and ever since your brother, steve, had carried you out, your body hadn’t been properly able to sustain itself without… this crap anymore. the doctors had faith you’d be able to be apart somewhat from them one day.

dustin felt sick thinking about what might’ve happened if that faith wasn’t there.

and he still can’t shake the feeling. watching you, still, crying, soaked in your own blood, steve soaked in your blood. not doing anything about it. selfishly thinking about his own love and how he’d survive if you didn’t make it. he can’t come back from that.

he doesn’t think he’ll ever shake the guilt.

“dust?” your voice cracks quietly through the stale hospital air.

he sniffed, twisting his back straight to face you. “yeah, honey?”

you swallowed thickly, breath sparse. you often found it hard to breathe. you could see dustin tense at the action. “y-you will visit me when you’re at college right?”

he frowned. “obviously. new jersey’s far, but i made this radio thing which i can attach to myself and steve has the other end so he can bring it with him on his visits and we can talk, and i’ll obviously come all the time when im on break-“

you coughed. he stood up immediately, hand going to your hair.

“fine! m’fine-“ you choked. “i didn’t know you’d thought it through so hard.”

he frowned worriedly at you, hands hovering like he wants to do something, but doesn’t know what.

“obviously i’ve thought about it.” he swallowed. “i don’t even want to go. not if you’re..”

you could get the implication. “we talked about that.” your voice hoarsely firm.

he sighed. “yeah, don’t let me pull you down, bullshit”. he slumped down into the chair, puffing like a toddler, curls falling infront of his face. you smiled weakly.

“right. it’s fine. i’m fine. i’ve got steve. you- you can’t miss this opportunity. you’re so fucking smart, i can’t reduce you to my caretaker.” your voice wobbled. dustin still retained his petulance.

“i wouldn’t mind being your caretaker if it meant being with you.” he mumbled. “the last time i left you, this happened.”

your hand extended from the bed. he gulped, his fingers clasping your pale ones.

“nothing can happen to me in a hospital.” you croaked. “i’m fine. you go and be brilliant. got it?”

he couldn’t help but smile slightly at you. you loved his smile. slightly crooked from where his teeth had mostly grown in now, jaw slightly off. you adored it. “can never resist someone calling you smart.” you teased quietly.

he sniffed, laughing quietly.

“what can i say.” he bit down on his lip. “i’ll go. and then i promise i’ll come back. and i’ll visit all the time. and i’ll build us something proper. real. i’ll have a cool job and i’ll buy us an awesome house and you can have as many cats as you want. and you can decorate it, i won’t intervene.” he rambled.

you smiled, ignoring the effort behind it.

“i’d like that.” you murmured. he nodded.

“you’ll get it.” he spoke, straightening. “seriously. you won’t have to worry a day in your life.” checking the time, he stood, squeezing your hand gently. “i’ll see you tomorrow yeah?” he kissed your intertwined hands quickly. for all his maturing, dustin was still funny about kissing. it made you laugh.

you frowned. “tomorrow? grad’s tomorrow. you’ve got your valedictorian speech to give, silly.”

he went quiet. “i haven’t… exactly written one. i’m not going.”

you stared. “what do you mean not going?”

“what’s the point? you won’t be there. i only care about you.”

“dustin-“

“i don’t want to make some stupid speech about good luck, i want to spend the most time i can with before-“

“dustin!”

he quietens.

you sniffled. “you have to go. no choice.”

“i can’t!” he exclaimed. you flinched. dustin never shouted. and definitely not at you.

he swallowed, quieting. “i- i can’t. okay? i can’t go up there, say all this bullshit, knowing you’re not there. it’s your graduation too, and you’re not there. fuck, if anyone deserves to graduate the most out of all of us, it’s you! i- i can’t- i can’t- i don’t want to.”

you chewed your lip. “suck it up.”

“what?”

“suck it up. you can come see me after. you can’t miss out on that, dustin. plus- steve doesn’t have me to watch graduate. if he doesn’t have you, he’ll be devastated. you’ve got to go.”

he crossed his arms. “whatever.”

“you’re going!” you called as loud as you could when he left.

“love you too!”

the next day, dustin stared hard at the bright orange grad gown hung on his wardrobe.

he snuck out early, before his mum woke, into the hospital. you were still asleep, machines calmly beeping.

so he sat and stared at you, hand absentmindedly stroking your hair. completely oblivious to the chaos he’d caused.

his mum was freaking out at his absence. phoning everyone asking if they knew where he was.

steve knew the one place he’d be.

“oi.” steve’s voice came quietly from the door. “staring at my sister like a weirdo are we?”

dustin stared up. “no” he mumbled.

“sure.” steve sighed, approaching. his hand stroked the palm of your hand for a moment.

“your mum’s going crazy.” he muttered. “you know you have to go.”

“i can’t.” dustin spoke quietly.

“why not?”

“because she’s laid here. drugged out of her mind, she can hardly talk, what kind of boyfriend am i if i go out and celebrate while she’s-“

steve’s hand touched his shoulder.

“i know you care about her.”

“i love her.” dustin corrected him.

there was a time he wouldn’t even admit he liked you to steve’s face.

“love her.” steve amended quietly. “but she’s going to be fine. i’ve got her. see? she’s not alone.”

dustin’s hands tensed on the bar of the bed.

“relax.” steve murmured. “she’s fine with me. she’ll be fine with me for the next hour. i know you love her, but you deserve to.. congratulate yourself. you’ve worked insanely hard for this. studying and demo killing.” he smiled lightly.

he sniffled, hands relaxing slightly.

“but it’s her graduation too.”

“i know. it’s not fair. life’s not fair. it’s going to get better, hey?”

dustin nodded, sniffling

“i’ll stay here with her, if it makes you feel better.” dustin nodded again, wiping furiously at his eyes in a ditch attempt to force emotion down.

“please.” he hiccuped.

steve’s hand pulled away, opting to quickly hug him before he could deny it.

“go get dressed into your roman senator costume then, hey? rock them with your smarts.”

dustin smiled slightly, nodding.

he stared at you for another moment. quiet. then he kissed your forehead, mumbling something steve couldn’t quite hear.

“love you, H.” he mumbled, before leaving.

[lilypetalls]

it’ll all be okay in the morning.

wartime au- steve’s an implied soldier. you’re a ward nurse. don’t really know what this is.

comment- very very short, very very sad.

——————————————

your shoes click against the tile of hawkins memorial hospital.

you don’t know him. he doesn’t know you.

male, nineteen, brought in from the bombing raid. just been through emergency surgery.

you were only fifteen yourself. both children. the war was bringing people in and together in devastatingly different ways. stitch, calm, bandage. that’s all you need to do.

when you reach his bed, you gulp. hard.

he’s in worse condition than presumed. hair half shaved at the side of his head where there’s a large incision. his whole left leg is bandaged, one eye stitched shut. how he’s still alive- you’re not sure. how much longer he’s got left to live?… you’re not sure.

you’re applying ointment gently onto his wounds. for inevitable cases like his, there’s not much you can do but be kind. gentle.

his chart hangs above his bed. steve harrington. you’re right, he is nineteen years old. your lip quivers as you watch him groan in pain under the sting of the solutions.

“shh.” you sooth. “it’ll all be okay, sweetheart.”

you’ve gotten used to it. comforting boys older than you. you know when it’s needed, when you have to step in. you just don’t expect his next words.

“mama?” he whimpers, eyes still clenched shut, body shaking. probably from the amount of blood he’s lost.

you eyed the crimson mattress. losing.

at first you don’t know what to say. words freeze in your mouth, soft small hands stop working. what can you do but comply?

“yeah.” you breathe shakily. “yes, it’s me. it’s all going to be okay.” you reassured, one hand still carefully spreading the ointment, the other moving to stroke his hair. it’s greasy and knotted, but he leans into your touch as much as he can, like a cat, soft pained groans eliciting.

“m’scared.” he chokes. “m’scared, mama, i can’t see nuthin-“

“shh.” you soften. “shh. go to sleep, steve. it’ll all be okay in the morning.”

he protests for a moment, childlike cries and whines piercing his silence. pains all consuming now. his scarred hand reaches for yours. you squeeze it, gently stroking his knuckles back and forth.

“it’ll all be okay in the morning.” you murmur.

steve harrington passes at four thirty two in the morning. and somehow, this one hits harder than the rest.

[lilypetalls]

even if we’re just dancing in the dark

synopsis: you’re a harrington- and the party have moved on! they’re all about kissing and boys and relationships now. so obviously you’re researching on how to impress the kid who made a functioning radio at the age of nine.

comment- only a short one! but i love steve harrington x sister! reader

————————————————

everyone knew the harringtons. the infamous family who owned half of hawkins in real estate. and the two kids- the gossip of the town moms considering their lack of parental presence.

1985, the year of big hair, back to the future and particularly for the hawkins kids- the opening of starcourt mall.

you were steve’s sister- around fourteen and an integral member of the party. compared to your brother, you were polar opposites. you played dungeons and dragons, aced chemistry tests and theorised demogorgons like it was a full time job.

steve on the other hand- nowadays spent most of his time working at the scoops ahoy (which you took full advantage of), hitting on uninterested, out of his league girls- and crushing on lesbians. at this point his gaydar is nonexistent.

despite this, he still claimed role of ultimate love and romancer in his own books.

there’s been a shift in the dynamics of the party. to start, mike and eleven are rarely caught *not* sucking face. max and lucas were on and off but still a pretty solid duo. which left you, will and dustin. at first you thought the idea was disgusting but now you can’t stop feeling left out.

so when dustin arrived back from ‘Camp KnowWhere’ enthusiastically ranting about his new ham radio… things felt different.

to any nerd- the only viable option here is for you to find any information you can on this newfound feeling.

so- you’re laid on your bed intently reading a book you’d stolen from your mothers collection about a stable girl and a rich boy.

steve had gotten home from… you actually didn’t know where. but it was late. and when he saw your bedroom light on, he shifted the door open slightly, blearily mumbling your name.

“whatcha still doing up?” he muttered.

his eyes fixed on the cover of the book. you made a squeal- unlike you- and immediately buried the book under your covers.

“*steve!* knock on the door-“ you exclaimed.

blush drove to your face as you were met with his shit eating grin.

“what’s that you’ve got there?” he smirked.

“nothing!”

“sure don’t look like nothing.” he teased.

“go away, steve!” you retorted.

damn his stupid basketball reflexes! the moment you lifted your hand to gesture him out, he flipped the book from under you, eliciting an angry screech.

“the farmer’s- *oh my god*, this is one of mom’s dirty books!” he gasped, looking at you in disbelief and some form of amusement.

“i- shhhhh! no it’s not- it’s- it’s not like that!”

“huh, what is it then? huh?” he grinned.

“i’m- analysing it.” you gulped, cheeks red.

he raised an eyebrow.

“analysis of what? it’s a rude book-“

“i’m trying to analyse the- the way you… you act and stuff.” you stammered.

“what… like?-“

“no!” you exclaimed. “how people act when they’re in love. not- not like that.” your cheeks flamed. steve simply laughed.

“yeah? who you in love with?”

you froze, gulping. steve’s grin only widened.

“oh my god, you’ve got a little crush. my nerdy sister has a crush and thinks reading dirty books is gonna help her understand that.” he concluded proudly. you exhaled with an indignant humph.

“do not.” you mumbled.

“do too.”

“do not!”

“do too!”

“do not!”

“what’s his name?”

“dustin!”

you slapped your hand over your mouth, glaring at him. “i hate you!”

steve flicked your forehead. “nah you don’t.” then it really settled in.

“*dustin?* dustin henderson? my dust- your dustin?! ham radios and the star wars movie with the teddy bears?”

you went bright red and allowed a reluctant nod. “they’re ewoks.” you corrected quietly.

he blinked at you, then sighed.

“god, that does makes sense doesn’t it?”

flopping on the edge of your bed, he flicked through the pages of the book.

“this ain’t gonna help you.” he chuckled. “now if only there was something with incredible romantic experience and happened to be very very attractive and well versed in the art of charm..”

“ew.”

“oi!”

you groaned. “fine. give me advice or whatever.” you crossed your arms.

he knocked your head gently. “just gotta be yourself, kid.” he spoke softly. “and maybe do a bit of the hair twirling. boys like that. i speak from experience.”

your nose scrunched in disgust.

“okay! okay- no more anecdotes-“ he grinned.

the night faded in unexpected sibling bonding. and a few houses down, dustin henderson is sat on his walkie talkie, trying to get advice from nancy wheeler on how to impress a harrington.

[lilypetalls]

i don’t believe in god, but i believe that you’re my saviour.

tw- religious trauma, that sort of stuff. not really bad but just in case yk.

comment- i love this idea and i wanna do a pt2 and maaybe 3 i think. if i get to it. i love the idea of petty robin and steve fights. whatever. again, using the adrienne oc

—————————————————-

you’re slammed against the wall, breath hot against your skin as her tongue slips in your mouth.

“jesus christ- you’re so gorgeous-“ she groans, hand practically tugging at your hair. you don’t reply apart from a soft hum, resting at her hips.

“*oh my god*, robin, can you actually stop snogging your girlfriend in the back room?!”

steve’s voice whines frustratedly. you break the kiss, laughing breathily. robin’s huffing in annoyance, wiping her swollen lips.

“words still apply. i could hang you in the louvre.” she enthuses, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear. “like, totally. take tons of photos and all that. not in a weird way! in an admirable cute way-“

you pressed a finger to her lips. “i love when you flirt in word blurt, but i think steve’s gonna have an aneurysm if we don’t get back there.” she nodded compliantly, grinning.

you emerged, leaning against the counter. mondays were always dead in family video.

“you’d think the two of you were bunnies.” steve grumbles disapprovingly. robin snorts, “says you, ‘king’ steve.”

“i thought we said we were pretending that never happened!”

robins laugh echoed through the room. you listened to their banter, half a world away.

————————————

“you need to get your act together.” your mother spoke, in that annoyingly posh, put together voice. “when i was nineteen i was married to your father and had two children. where are you? *nowhere*. i’m not trying to be mean, darling, i’m simply looking out for you-“

you’d learned to tune her out over the years. hot, simmering guilt pooling in your stomach as she spoke- the risk of boiling over increasing by the second. the large plastic cross nailed to the top of the wall above your dining table made you feel even worse.

like you were being watched. warned.

since you were a baby you been going to church. your father was a priest. grow up, turn eighteen, marry a good christian man, have babies.

cycle repeats. god is pleased. god ignores the pained, the longing, the trapped. as long as they’re obeying his laws of modesty and ‘kindness’ everything is fine.

surely a god who loved you wouldn’t make you like this just to torture you. how can you marry the perfect man when robin buckley is always lingering there? even you can tell she’s getting frustrated. with your indecisiveness, anxiety, constant stopping and starting because your guilt is boiling over and kissing another girl is wrong.

but you *just can’t help it*.

you hate god for making you this way. you hate yourself for hating god.

“— we only want a good life for you, dearest, and you can’t support yourself! god knows the new revelations of working women is disastrous, leaving our men to fend for themselves— now i know you like your little tinny job at the friendly record or whatever it is but when it comes to real life—“

you gritted your teeth.

————————————

you and robin are stood outside her house in the pouring rain. clothes sticking to you like your bad lies, tears mingling with the rainwater.

“i’m- i’m sick of it, adie, i really am- i love you! why do you always do this, just flunk on me! it’s like you don’t want anyone to know we’re together!” she sniffled. you reached out, resisting.

you couldn’t stomach your robin being so upset. and it was entirely your fault.

“robbie- you know my family, if they found out-“ you hiccuped.

“if you really loved me, you wouldn’t care.” she sniffled. “it wouldn’t matter, i would matter.”

“you do matter! you matter so much, i love you!” you cried. “please, you have to believe me, i know i dont deserve you- you deserve someone who’ll shout how much they love you from the rooftops, but that’s not me! okay? i’m sorry, you chose me despite this—“ you hiccuped tearfully.

“i understand if you want to leave because of it.”

robins properly crying now, fringe soaked to her forehead.

“i don’t want to leave, i just want you to love me.” she stuttered. “i- im not loveable, i talk too much and im obnoxious, i can’t tell when people are angry at me- even my mom says i always speak when most inappropriate—“

your hug silenced her. only soft sobs and the wet squelch of your clothes pressing together was heard.

“if you were silent and well spoken, you wouldn’t be my robin.” you sniffled. “please believe me when i say i love you.”

you choked. “i just- i can’t disappoint my parents more than i already have. am. i can’t. i don’t know why im like this.”

robins forehead bonked against yours. you hiccuped tearfully, lips brushing against hers.

“i love you.” you repeated, a quite mantra in your head. maybe if you said it enough it would stop feeling quite so wrong.

————————————

large panelled glass glinted in the light of the unnecessarily large chandelier as you navigated a room you stuck out in like a sore thumb.

for church goers, your family were well off. your mother was the ringleader of it all, using her fake accent and instructing you tightly on which fork is which.

but the harrington’s are a different level of wealthy. your father forgave them for not attending every sunday they had that much money.

sometimes you wondered if money equalled goodness, holiness. if god would forgive you for your sins because you could donate to fix the leaky roof of his church.

anyway. so tonight, your mother had forced you to attend this— gala. of some sort. you pulled your incredibly itchy dress down (that of course covered every inch of your skin so you felt suffocated constantly) and hovered by your mother and father, zoned out in your own world.

“adrienne! dearest, there’s someone we’d love you to meet!” your mother chirped obnoxiously, voice an octave higher.

you turned and were met with the awkward face of *steve harrington*, stood with two formal looking people you assumed were his parents. you blinked, gulping.

“these are the harrington’s, sweetie.” your mum beamed. “they’re very in the real estate game. but cheryl here obviously is the *best* cook, you must simply give my daughter some advice-“ she chattered excitably. great. just your moms type.

more importantly, what the fuck was steve doing here?

you gave him a ‘this is awkward, why are you here?’ stare. he returned it with a ‘forcibly so’ stare.

you had to resist your laugh. robin would be pissing herself right now.

“adrienne, wouldn’t you and steve make such a fine couple? his hair and your jawline? oh, you’d made gorgeous children!” she enthused.

your eyes widened. excuse me?

steve had a similar reaction, eyes bugging out of his head like he’d witnessed a nuclear explosion. he basically had.

stumbling over your words, you managed to choke a, “huh?”

“yes!” she beamed. “oh you’d be simply perfect…”

you tuned out her next fantastical ramblings, sharing the same ‘disgusted but trying to be respectful’ face.

————————————

from that day onwards, your mother wouldn’t let it go. all you heard was ‘steve’ this and ‘the harrington’s’ that and ‘you’d have such beautiful babies, adie, why are you denying me the chance to be a grandmother?!’

steve was basically sprawled on the counter as you put away tapes, complaining about your mother as steve whined pathetically and robin hung off you in steaming anger.

“she’s ridiculous. *harrington* of all people?” robin grumbled, arms tightening on you possessively. “can’t you just tell her you’re a fellow boob lover?”

you grimaced at her wording. “ew. and no, my father would probably damn me to hell.”

she scoffed. “hell this, hell that.”

steve groaned loudly. “what if we just pretend to date to shut her up?”

you stopped putting away tapes. “are you serious?”

steve’s hand batted the table lazily. “yeah. i can’t handle two more minutes of my parents *whining*.”

ironic as he was currently doing just that.

robin gasped. “are you saying you want a throuple, harrington?”

you snorted. “no!!” steve gasps. “look, i pretend to date adie, kiss her cheek and all that, you two can shag in the back room and i don’t have to listen to my moms whining! win win!”

you raised an eyebrow. “really?” you spoke uncertainly. were you seriously considering this?

“yes! come on adie.” he dragged out the ‘e’.

you glanced at robin. she gave you a wide sneaky grin. you had to suppress a laugh.

“okay. fine.”

[lilypetalls]

summertime spritz, pink skies

comment- i didn’t know what to call this so. cute lil quote. this is also random so whatever. i have this really cute (angsty too?) idea for robin x reader AND steve x reader so prolly do that next. dad!steve harrington still and forever is my baby. also reader in this is called adrienne cos that’s like the filler name i use, and probably will do for future reference.

——————————————————

If you were to ask the Harrington’s what they thought of their parents? The first word that comes to mind would be *embarrassing*.

Adrienne and Steve Harrington. That’s how they were always referred to. A unit. Since 1985, even years before their marriage. You’d worked at the jazzercise place across from the Scoops Ahoy, where he worked. You’d yelled at the boy for gawping at the women’s pilates class. A little harsh but he was coming off a bit weird. Within the week you found yourself trapped in an underground Russian facility with Steve, his friend Robin, a nerdy child who wouldn’t shut up and an actual mouthy little girl. From then on- you became a staple. “Dad” of the group to Steve’s “Mom” as you’d been affectionately nicknamed. Through Vecna, the demobats, the upside down, the mind flayer. You were Steve’s constant presence. Holding him through nightmares and migraines. Tearful nights when he realised one of his friends was never coming back.

Steve returned the favour. Trauma bonded, you could say. Your love and loyalty for each other ran deep.

1988- a year after the defeat of Vecna. You and Steve had learnt that tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed- anxiety still looming despite the peace of the last twelve months- and decided you didn’t want to wait. So, unmarried and freshly 23, Gabrielle Robin Harrington was born. Red-faced and wailing, ready to face anything. The only person maybe more thrilled than you and Steve was Gabi’s namesake. Robbie had basically forced her way in seconds after her birth, mouth open at the wriggling baby. You knew she’d make the best godmother and auntie. The beginning of your six nuggets. As Steve put it. You were adamant that six was a bit out of your range.

Within the year, 1989, your second daughter Kimberly Jane Harrington was born. The same year, you and Steve tied the knot. It was nothing fancy- frankly money was somewhat tight. With all your friends and family though? It felt *perfect*. For a month after you insisted on being called ‘Adie Harrington’ in every sentence. Which, ironically, lead to the conception of your next child. Your first son, James Dustin Harrington graced the world in 1990. You and Steve agreed you’d pace for now. Almost consistently being pregnant for three straight years had really taken it out of you.

But you loved nothing more than the smile on Steve’s face as he cradled a baby in one arm, conversed with a chatty toddler and eyed a chaotic crawling baby all at once. You swore the man had been crafted for fatherhood.

In 1995- after an incident with you, Steve and his old letterman jacket- twins Violet Maxine and Charlie Michael Harrington were born. Then to top your perfect family off, Penelope Joyce Harrington was the finishing touch in 1997. In an entirely unplanned spin of fate, Steve really did end up with his six nuggets.

*BEEP* *BEEP* *BEEP *BEEP*

You groaned loudly, shoulders aching as your alarm blared through the bedroom. Steve grumbled tiredly beneath his mound of blanket, hand batting to switch it off. “Mm.” He mumbled, hand going out to hold you down as you started to get up. “No-one’s crying yet. Stay.” You sighed softly, flopping back into the cushion as his arms snaked around you. “Miss you” He murmured sleepily.

You laughed gently. “We haven’t left the house in three days.” He groaned playfully. “I know but we’re always accompanied.”

As if on cue- Penny’s cries filled the peaceful silence. You yawned. “I’ve got her”.

Steve whined but allowed you your freedom. He stretched upwards in bed like a cat, listening to your soft croons at your 6 month old baby. “Someone’s grumpy this morning.” Your voice echoed through the hallway. You appeared in the doorframe, a cranky looking infant cradled in your arms. Squealing in an impatient manner, her hands waved out for Steve. You huffed, passing her over.

“Daddy’s girl.” You mumbled. Steve just gave you a shit eating grin.

Despite your fuss, you loved that all your children seemed to favour Steve slightly over you. You didn’t blame them- you did too. Nuzzling your baby’s head against his chest? You’d never get enough of the sight.

Soon, the chaos caught on that their parents were awake. Violet and Charlie ambushed, your high pitched laugh ringing out as your son jumped into your arms, Steve grunting as he supported Violet. “Jesus, you’re getting heavy.” He groaned playfully. Vi just giggled, snuggling into his side. “Mwah.”

You smiled softly, cradling a sleepy Charlie against your chest. “Okay, baby?” You cooed softly. Watching the twins and penny grow up was bittersweet compared to their siblings. Your last little ones, last first words and last desperate cuddles. Charlie let out a soft sigh, tucking his head further into your chest. Sooner rather than later, Gabi, Kimmy and Jamie had joined your party. Your eldest was laid across Steve’s legs, rambling about pancakes.

“Please, daddy?” She whined, dragging out the ‘e’. Steve huffed, tickling the bases of her feet. “If I must, monkey.”

Smiling, you gently dropped Kimmy on the bed as she was hanging off your arm. “Yeah daddy, I think you should make pancakes.” You teased softly. Violet batted your arm. “No your daddy, my daddy.” She grumbled sleepily. you laughed. Your Vi had a territorial streak. “Alright alright. Your daddy.”

Your eldest suddenly gasped. “Mummy!” She exclaimed. You jumped. “What?” her eyes were wide. “I have cooking at school tomorrow!”

Steve groaned. “Seriously?” you just laughed.

————————

Later that night was the annual family barbecue. Everyone was in town, and you couldn’t help but host. It was like instinct.

So you navigated groups of people in your sunny back garden, penny dribbling on your hip, yabbering nonsense. Steve manned the barbecue with Hopper. Robin, Nancy and Jonathan were in a little huddle with Violet and James, doing their best aunt and uncle smiles as they helped them colour. Robin was just as into it as the kids. Max, Lucas, Will, Mike and El were listening to Dustin mansplain his new job at this space corporation. Max was quietly cradling their new little one- Delilah. You absolutely adored the baby. Everyone knew how badly you were basically begging Steve for a seventh, even though you’d been resistant to six in the first place. Joyce was with Karen and Claudia in the corner, her new engagement ring shining on her finger.

It was perfect.

Steve slid away from the grill, arms hanging over your shoulders as he grinned. You just shook your head in managed annoyance.

“Bein a good hostess?” he teased gently, finger swiping the little bit of saliva dripping from Penny’s pink lips with a fond hum.

“The best.” you replied, leaning back into him. “tired.” he hummed in reply. “I know, baby.”

The sun was beginning to set, you could see penny getting a bit restless and Hopper looking as if you stopped him having his beer for another minute he’d get aggressive. You sighed. “I entertain, you do bedtime?”

“Deal.”

You hummed, before bringing two fingers to your mouth and whistling.

“Harringtons!” you called.

Soon enough, all five children were lined up infront of you. It really was quite an impressive skill.

“right. daddy’s got bedtime, so we all follow him, okay?” you smiled at the little chorus of agreement.

“Good.” you kissed each one on the head as they passed by, following Steve up the stairs.

Once they’d all filed out, Dustin laughed.

“Geez, you’re like an army officer!”

You rolled your eyes. “They basically are an army, Henderson.” You slumped into a camping chair with the group, yawning tiredly. Robin patted the top of your head affectionately. “poor sleepy birdie.” she teased. You scoffed.

After half an hour of wrangling, Steve emerged somewhat victorious. Only minorly covered in spit up, teddies and juice. He flopped on your lap as you let out a grunt. “Jesus, babe, you’re twice my size”. You coughed, adjusting yourself so it was more comfortable. Despite it, you didn’t let go, kissing his temple.

Jonathan’s nose scrunched. “How can you still be so affectionate when he looks like that?” Steve glared at him. Laughing softly, your arms tightened around his waist. “It’s cute. And I’ve been worse so.”

Nancy smiled, though she’d have to agree with Jonathan. “He’s like a big man baby”.

“Oi! I’m not a baby.” His voice was muffled by your shirt. You laughed. “debatable, honey.” You murmured, brushing your knuckles through his hair, which was considerably less styled nowadays. Steve nudged his nose further into you with a sigh.

“They’re fucking disgusting.” Max commented fondly, bouncing Delilah on her knee. Lucas snorted.

“Oh yeah. He’s absolutely disgusting. They’re made for eachother.”

[lilypetalls]

you’ve been on my mind girl since the flood- part two

- for the random commenter 🙏 @gennywennypenny

———————————————————

you and every other girl in hawkins had fallen for the harrington hair. the only difference was your relationship ended in tears, two pink lines and a very charming but messy ophelia.

you wouldn’t change a thing. well…

you were angry. extremely angry at steve right now. he’d promised he’d be here after months of half arsed visits and conversations. you knew he loved you and ophelia but sometimes you didn’t want to know it, you wanted to feel it. and now today was ophie’s birthday. and he couldn’t even be bothered to show up. pretty shitty parenting if you said so.

the wall phone rang obnoxiously through your flat. ophie squealed, clearly not all that bothered by her fathers absence. you muttered under your breath, going to grab it.

“hello?” you asked tiredly, irritation lacing your tone.

silence for a moment.

“hi.” his voice cracked. exhausted, beaten. your breath hitched.

“steve?” you could almost hear his half affectionate, sleepy smile over the phone. “yeah.” he croaked in conformation.

“nice of you to call.” you snipped, still pretty peeved with him. steve sighed heavily.

“yeah. no i know- is ophie okay?” you nodded, before realising he couldnt hear a nod.

“yeah. she’s fine. no thanks to you.”

“yeah. i deserve that.” he spoke forlornly. “uhm. can you come pick me up?”

you scoffed. the cheek!

“where from? are you kidding me, steve? you haven’t be drinking or something have you, you knew you were supposed to-“

“the mall kinda burnt down.” he stated bluntly over the phone. your words faltered; anger dissipating. *what?*

“sorry.” he tagged on the end. you laughed in the ridiculousness of it all.

“sorry?! jesus- fuck, why didn’t you start with that! i’m on my way. where are you, are you okay?”

he laughed rapsily. “yeah. uh. outside the mall. with some- paramedic guy. robins here too. she works at scoops too. dustin got picked up.”

“i’m on my way.”

“m’kay.” he mumbled, sleepiness melting into his tone. “tell ophie i love her.”

you swallowed. “i will.”

you felt a bit bad for calling him a bad father. in head of course. but point still stands.

————————————

steve is sat in the back of an ambulance, ice pack held to his bruised eye, still feeling the after effects of- whatever the russians had dosed him and robin on. he watched forlornly as robin was carted away with her parents, fussing over her and the small cuts on her arms. his parents were probably somewhere in europe.

“hey.”

steve’s head turned. you were stood there, worry clearly etched into your face, a chubby baby cradled on your hip. all thoughts of the elder harringtons dissipated. *you* were his family.

“hey.” he smiled weakly.

ophelia beamed a gummy smile, hands waving for him. steve gently took her, cradling her in one arm, gingerly avoiding his wounds. you sniffed, watching the baby pull at steve’s cheeks babbling “dada.” he looked a moment away from sobbing, kissing the top of her head. swallowing, he looked up at you, eyes red, tired and sore.

“I gotta explain. like- a lot.” he murmured. you just nodded.

“c’mon lets get you home.” you responded softly, gently pulling him up with your free arm.

——————————————

after you’d helped steve shower and change, you’d gone to quickly make him something to eat. returning with a little plate of crackers, your heart stuttered. steve was laid in your bed, cradling ophelia to him, who was giggling happily. steve had his face pressed against hers, mumbling soft words you couldn’t hear. ophie had always liked the tickling of the stubble he almost always kept. like mother like daughter.

you gently set the plate down, steve’s eyes flickering up to you. smiling slightly, you crawled into bed, stroking ophelia’s head.

“m’sorry.” steve mumbled, after minutes of silence.

you frowned. “steve, there’s nothing-“

“no there is.” he sniffed. “i’m a crap dad. she never sees me. i’m always bloody- gone. or busy working. i’m just like my dad, and im *sorry*.”

you could see him getting more worked up by the minute, your hands stretching out the rub at his arm.

“yeah, you’re busy, but you’re not a shit dad.” you attempted to reassure.

“i am!” he hiccuped, clutching ophelia closer. “i am… i promise i have good reasons though. really, i do.”

you were just quiet, stroking up and down his arms and back to try and comfort him. and yourself. ophie cuddled closer, eliciting a soft sad noise from steve.

he swallowed.

“there’s monsters. like- real ones. that eat people and crap.” he frowned at your snort. “i’m serious, really. that’s what happened today, that’s why the mall burnt.”

you raised an eyebrow.

“stevie, your head right now-“

“it’s not my head!” he claimed slightly louder than intended. “sorry- sorry.” he shushed ophelia again. “i- i’m not kidding. since 1983. that’s why ive been so funny about everything, i need to keep you both safe, if anything happened i’d never forgive myself-“

he rambled, breathing deepening. you’d never heard him get so anxious about anything, the seriousness of his voice

settling with you.

“…really?” you murmured.

“yeah.” he breathed. “i- i thought i was gonna die today, and i was never gonna see my girls again. and i love you, all i could think about was how much i love you both-“ he whimpered, tears slipping down his face. you knew it must hurt as the passed his fresh wound. it was weird seeing steve so emotional.

“shh.” you spoke quietly. “we’re both fine. you’re fine. everyone’s fine, sweetheart.”

the nickname slipped out. steve sobbed quietly.

“it could’ve been different though.”

“it’s not. it’s not different.”

ophelia batted his cheek as if to say she was here too. steve pressed her as close as he could get her.

“promise. promise i’m gonna be open, and more here. i’ll- i’ll be here. i promise.” he confessed, sniffling. you nodded gently.

“okay.”

[lilypetalls]

you’ve been on my mind girl since the flood.

comment- lowkey shit but i love the concept. dad!steve harrington i guard u with my life.

cross posted to ao3- never done anything on tumblr before so i could be doing this totally wrong btw. oh well.

EDIT- there’s a part two now on my page! x

————————————————

steve harrington didn’t cry. harringtons don’t cry. boys don’t cry.

steve slid down the back of the cold metal wall, head tipping down softly, hair falling infront of his eyes. the adrenaline of the ‘american heroes’ appeal had worn off, and now all he could feel was panic. the walls of russian elevator felt like they were closing in on him, leaving no breathing room, no escape. he was going to die here, below the surface. you’d never know.

steve didn’t even try to hide the tears slipping down his face now. dustin and erica were arguing in the corner over an escape route and the plot of my little pony like the situation they were in didn’t have deadly potential.

but robin plopped down next to him. he could feel the scratchy material of her Scoops uniform against his thigh. he let out a soft sob. despite only knowing the girl for half a summer, he’d gained a fondness for her he couldn’t admit.

robin carefully patted his back.

“we’re gonna get out of here, dingus. no tears needed.” she spoke, casual sarky tone still there, but a true undertone of fear and understanding.

but robin didn’t understand. who could? steve just kept crying. his sobs got heavier, till his eyes blurred and his breathing grew heavy.

“i’m a shit dad.” he sobbed. “i’m just like mine.”

erica and dustin had stopped arguing now. they sat quietly, not watching- but listening. you couldn’t not, not in the enclosed space.

robins eyebrows quirked. “dad?”

another sob tore from him. “you don’t even know. that’s how shit i am.” his shoulders shook, as he attempted to pull his hair down to cover his eyes. robin pushed it back up.

“you’re a dad?” she enquired softly. the tone of surprise and resistant snarky tones held back. she was trying.

he nodded tearfully. “ophie.” was all he could manage.

dustin frowned. he understood what steve was sobbing about now.

junior year, steve broke up with nancy. then he met you. and nancy didn’t matter so much anymore. your eyes shone and he’d never ever stop getting a kick out of when you’d laugh at his jokes like he was a prized comedian. or the way you’d whine his name, pressed against his chest.

december 13th. you’d shown at his door, sobbing like he was.

that night he’d sworn to be the best dad he ever could be. he wasn’t going to be like his father.

then the upside down came back. the mind flayer haunted hawkins like a never ending nightmare. fighting against it wasn’t an option anymore, he was involved. and in his best efforts to keep you safe and naive, he was pushing you away.

he’d cried when he almost missed the birth of your daughter. *almost*. tumbling in, just in time. ophelia jane harrington was born six pounds and three ounces. steve didn’t care that he was nineteen. he just loved that baby. with every inch of his existence.

“daddy’ll keep you safe.” he promised. “you’ll never know monsters. not like i do.” he murmured softly to her, her little legs kicking in silent reply.

cut to this moment, and he was missing ophelia’s birthday. her first birthday. because he was trapped. in a *fucking russian elevator*. it wasn’t like he saw her all the time, he had to protect her. they couldn’t know, you couldn’t know, or you’d both be in danger.

you just saw him pushing you away. leaving you to handle it all on your own.

steve’s sobs burst into hysterical cries. robin comforted him quietly, despite hardly understanding herself. once he’d cried himself to an uncomfortable sleep against the crate, dustin explained everything. *everything*.

when steve woke, robin was there. curled against the crate, eyeing him carefully. protectively.

he sniffled, cracking his back as he sat up. he couldn’t meet her eyes.

“…dustin said.” she murmured. “basically all of it”.

he gulped. “right.”

his fingers fidgeted with one another, guilt rushing back. “i know i’m bad. i don’t deserve them. either of them. i’m gonna die here and neither of my girls are gonna know how much i love them. they’re gonna think i hate them.” he hiccuped tearfully.

robins heart shattered.

“…you’re just trying to protect them.”

she inhaled. “and we’re not gonna die down here. we’re gonna get out.”

steve laughed. not a funny laugh, a mocking laugh.

“how? how are we getting out of here?”

robin was silent.

“exactly.” he murmured. his knees tucked under his chin. “…i miss ophie. she’s one. she’s a whole year old. and i don’t even think she’d recognise me as dad.” he sniffled.

her hand unexpectedly came to rest on his shoulder. “she’ll know you’re her dad.”

he hiccuped. “how? i’m never there.”

robins thumb moved softly back and forth.

“she just will. most dads don’t have to try and protect their families from interdimensional monsters.”

he sniffled. “what about her?”

her thumb stopped. *you*.

“truth. she needs the truth.” robin murmured. “i know you think it’ll endanger them. but don’t they deserve it?”

steve’s breath hitched.

“…if something happens-“

“i know.” robin cut in. “but you’re a protector. you can protect them.”

steve was quiet for a moment. “…yeah.”

erica was asleep, but dustin wasn’t. the boy clambered up and threw himself into steve. steve grunted, but wrapped his arms around him.

“you’re a good dad.” dustin mumbled softly. steve’s eyes pricked with more tears.

he sniffled. “thanks.”