I adore Giant Eddie Munson, but can we pls talk about Tiny Eddie for a moment? Because tinies tend to see his personality as safe, but Eddie himself gives off so much Tiny energy.
He likes to act big and bold, but that’s just a facade to hide his natural state of nervousness. He’s actually a pretty skittish individual and will run if it means he gets to live another day. Dreams of living bigger but turns back to his comfort zone when life gets too real. It’s only when he really gets to know people that he opens up. He’s playful and witty but still never fully relaxed until he really truly feels he can trust you. Even then, he’s had too many bad experiences in his life to ever really trust people. He’s constantly on the move because there are too many people that consider him the enemy to ever stay still.
To me, that’s textbook tiny attributes.
Idk, maybe I’m just having 4:00 AM thoughts, but Tiny Eddie has always made sense to me. Probably lives at the school instead of the trailer park. Uses all his close friends as jungle gyms as he talks theirs ears off about his current interest, putting small braids in people’s hair just to stim and work his fingers, befriending the mice because even by tiny standards he’s a loner. That last one is just because he’s AuDHD and it’s difficult to connect to people. Helping Dustin, Mike, and Lucus paint the tiny details on their miniatures. Playing around with the miniatures to do tiny versions of LARPing. Finding a lost fingerboard and failing miserably to teach himself how to skate. Will only allow a few select people to carry him as being held can sometimes be too overstimulating. Will only travel in loose shirt/jacket pockets as tight spaces cause panic attacks / make him feel trapped. Breaking all the tips off of certain teacher’s pencil to inconvenience them and get lead to draw with. Planting bang snap fireworks in bully’s lockers/backpacks and setting a few off during their lunch period to get them in trouble.
Okay but Steve Harrington x tiny reader?!? Like Steve saving them and being super protective over them. I genuinely just need to know what Steves reaction to a tiny would be like 😭❤️🙌
Steve Harrington x Tiny!Reader One-shot
Taglist: @a-tiny-frog-girl, @tthdyjftu
Trigger Warning(s): Swearing, alcohol use, mentions of weapons, animal death (a diseased rat), mentions of dead rodents (mouse traps), blood, medical supplies
Disclaimer: I don’t own Steve Harrington or Stranger Things, that goes to Netflix and the Duffer Brothers.
Rating: T, SFW
Word Count: 4764
Extra: First off, the reader has mouse ears, feet, tail, and the bottom of the nose is padded. That’s just how I write tinies unless requested otherwise. Secondly, This takes place a week after the events of s3. Third, this story got way away from me. Grew its own legs and ran. There are parts of this that I’m not super happy with, but I’ve already rewritten them several times over on top of delays. Honestly, I just hope y’all enjoy ♥️
——— ⚓️ ———
He was drinking again.
Honestly, it shouldn’t have surprised you. With how many years you’d lived in this household, seeing Steve Harrington down three beers really shouldn’t have shocked you. He was notorious for his parties where alcohol was always available due to rich parents that were never home. Even when just hanging out with friends he’d crack open a box for them to go through. Sometimes, when nights were hard on his conscious, he’d get himself tipsy enough to forget and sleep. It shouldn’t have been an odd sight to see a bottle in his hand.
Except it was. Half a year ago, for reasons you didn’t fully know, Steve had simply stopped drinking. Full stop. It had been a little shocking when you realized it, but it hadn’t really meant much of anything on your part. You’d never touched the stuff, simply taking what you needed to survive. Now here he was, half a year sober down the drain. Once again you weren’t privy to the full details, but he’d come home an absolute wreck a week ago. The moment he’d closed the front door, he’d sunk to the floor in tears. You hadn’t seen it, but just hearing it from your position in the walls felt like you were intruding. After a full hour of sitting and sobbing, he’d dragged himself to the kitchen and downed a half a bottle of vodka and fell asleep on the cold tile.
Having lived with him for nearly six years, unknowing he might have been, you’d come to care for him. You really shouldn’t have, borrowers weren’t supposed to feel anything but fear for humans, but you did. You’d seen him at his absolute worst, even if that felt unfair and you hadn’t wanted to. You’d seen him break and cry and scream and writhe and do all the ugly things people try to hide from others. It felt invasive, and you tried your best to give him space, but even this giant house couldn’t hold his grief from you. There were nights where you were awoken by his screams, the sound finding you in the living room all the way from his room on the second floor. Nightmare nights were always the worst.
Including tonight. You’d somehow slept through the screams, but his pacing about the house woke you up. He’d checked the locks on every door and window in the house at least three times before sitting down on the couch with a pack of beers in front of him. He’d been on his third when he’d finally passed out. The TV was still on, now just a blue screen from when the movie finished.
It was times like this where you wished you were human. That you wished you weren’t just a specter of the household. You wished you could cover him with a blanket and turn off the TV and clean up the empty bottles. Honestly, you wished you could ask him what was even wrong in the first place. Where that giant black eye and all those bruises had come from. It had to be linked, you knew, but it was hard to get information at only four inches tall.
With a long huff, you turned from the small hole in the wall. It was hidden on the bookshelf as a way for you to see the living room without being seen yourself. While you were worried for him, immensely, you still had things to do. With him asleep, it was the perfect time to go borrowing. You needed to make a trip to the kitchen for some more food.
Most of the trip you were lost in thought, so it was almost a shock when you finally arrived at the T-shaped intersection in the walls. While taking a left would lead you farther into the walls of the kitchen, the right would lead to a currently blocked passageway to the kitchen floor. Though you previously already steered clear of that exit, it was now unusable. Steve had recently replaced all the trigger mouse traps with live ones. As in live capture. You didn’t know why, just that he did, and now you had new obstacles to face. While you were glad the other traps were gone, there was now a greater chance of you getting caught. That was a big no no. Your survival instincts were adamant that you couldn’t be found. Humans were dangerous, cruel, unpredictable. Even if you wished you could trust Steve, you didn’t know what he would do if he ever found out you’d basically been stealing from him for six years. You didn’t want to ever find out.
Taking the left passage, it was a couple more minutes until you reached the corner you were looking for. There was a pulley system on the other side, one you’d built to help with transport to the top cabinets. Most of the non-perishables were kept in them, along with herbs and spices. Made things easier for you, one quick trip. Wanting to get this over and done with, you picked up the pace and turned the corner.
Not even two inches from you stood a rat. Its brown fur was long and matted, covered in a thick layer of dirt and grime. The smell alone almost made you want to gag. It was absolutely massive, at least an entire foot long, and had what looked like an oozing wound on its side. The scraggly appearance told you exactly why it was here in the house. This thing was hungry, and was looking for just about anything to eat at this point. Now you stood right in its path, within reach, in a frozen stupor.
Your breath caught in your throat as your heart began to beat rapidly. Every muscle within you tensed. Big, black, beady eyes locked onto your still form and there was a moment where you both simply stared.
It gave a thundering screech, and you ran.
The floor under you rattled as the beast barreled after you, the sound of its claws scraping against the wood echoing through the walls. You ran as fast as you possibly could, tail flailing as you tried to balance your strides. You knew these tunnels, had walked them nearly every day, and were going to use that knowledge to your advantage. There were a few places you tried to lose it at, even climbing up and around a bend at some point. Despite this, the rat still seemed to keep the pace. You may have been fast, but the rat was huge. There were too many straight pathways in the walls, meaning less places to try and use zigzag tactics to stifle its stride. No matter what you seemed to try, your desperate attempts to flee simply weren’t working.
With another crazed scream, the rat swung a paw at you. A scream of your own tore through your lips as its claws ripped through your side. The pain was enough to make you drop. You felt your heart stop in that split second of time. You were going to die.
By some miracle, though, falling to the floor is what saved you. Not able to stop itself after the takedown, the rat ran right over you and tripped on its own paws in a haste to stop. If your weren’t consumed by terror and pain, you probably would have laughed. Your survival instincts were still in full control, though, so you instead got back on your feet. You hissed as your wound burned in protest from your continued running. It hurt like a bitch, but you would address that later. Now, you needed a way out of this.
Reaching the end of the pathway, you paused. You were back at the T-shaped intersection. To your right laid an entrance into the house, one that spit you out on the floor of the kitchen. Floors were always an unsafe place to be for borrowers, as the wide open space provided very little cover and no safe exit points. It was also very easy to get stepped on and squashed. You preferred to use entrances on the countertops or into the cabinets themselves.
Now, though, that didn’t matter. It was a risk, a big one, but you didn’t care. You could already hear the rat scrambling to its feet behind you, and you weren’t about to become its next meal. Turning the corner, you ran as fast as your injury would allow. The sound of the rat gaining once again spurred you on, and you all but leaped for the entrance in the wall before you.
There was suddenly a sharp snap that rang through your ears, though that wasn’t what stopped you. No, that had been a sudden wall of plastic that seemed to appear out of thin air. It caused you to fall into a heap on the floor, completely disoriented. You tried to sit up, only for the floor under you to shift and your head to crack against the ground.
Everything suddenly felt like it was coming through a tunnel. A sharp ringing filled your ears while your vision blurred. You once again tried to sit up, but it felt like you were moving through molasses. “Wha jst hapn,” you slurred as you cradled your head, momentarily forgetting why you had even been running in the first place. Your entire surroundings smelled strongly of plastic.
The enraged scream of a rat knocked you back into your senses. You looked up sharply, hissing when your head stung but desperate to find your current stalker. It was still there, fervently trying to claw its way to you, but its figure was oddly warped. You squinted in confusion, wondering if your vision was still impaired. When it still continued to look disfigured and wasn’t advancing towards you, you took a moment to look around.
The smell of plastic suddenly made a lot more sense. It completely surrounded you, warping the already giant landscape and causing your own breathing to echo around you oddly. You jumped and shuffled backwards as the rat lunged, only to hit the wall that you’d just previously ran into.
In your haste to get away, you’d all but forgot about the new traps.
Not only were you slowly bleeding out from the earlier attack, but now you were also trapped. It was easy to see the two outcomes to this. Either the rat manages to break in and kill you, or you bled to death in this plastic prison. Both options weren’t good ones, and you couldn’t help the choked sob that left your throat. You were going to die. No matter which outcome, you were going to die a slow, painful death. Worst of all, you were going to die alone. You’d die and no one would know. You’d die and the world would be none the wiser.
In this situation, you did what you thought anybody would do. You broke into hysterical sobs, and mourned a death that only you would ever mourn. Your own.
——— ⚓️ ———
Three years of running for his life from monsters from an alternate dimension made Steve Harrington a very light sleeper. It wasn’t exactly something he prided himself in, seeing as it was mainly built on bad panic attacks and raging nightmares. He honestly kind of hated it. The amount of times he’d woke up swinging because a branch hit the wall outside was a number he’d rather forget.
Tonight, though, he was awoken by odd sounds coming from his kitchen. He probably wouldn’t have heard it had he still been in his bed but, having downing a couple a beer or three earlier after a bad nightmare, he was instead on the couch. At first he couldn’t figure out what woke him up. The TV was off and the AC wasn’t currently running so the house was quiet. The slight hangover headache might have been it, so he simply shrugged it off. Rubbing his eyes to get rid of the last of the clinging sleepiness, Steve simply sat on the couch for a moment.
The quiet but sudden screeching had him tensing and reaching for a weapon. Another thing he’d picked up from his years of fighting the creatures of the Upside Down was that he kept at least one weapon in every room of the house. Be it a gun, a knife, or even a big pair of scissors, something was always accessible. He would have grabbed the small pistol hidden on the bookshelf if not for his trusty nail-studded bat being within reach. Had he’d been more sober and awake, he might have seen the flaw in that plan, but he at least had something. Quickly but silently, Steve stalked towards the kitchen with his bat raised high.
He was halfway to the kitchen entrance when he realized what exactly he was hearing. The screeching wasn’t that of a demodog, but a rodent. His house may have been big and fancy, but it was still in the middle of the woods. Mice and rats were a common pest. He’d recently changed all of the traps scattered around the house to live traps when remembering that the Upside Down creatures were attracted to blood. His house had already been host to one demogorgon attack, he wasn’t going to take any chances. Releasing living rodents was easier than dealing with the looming threat of an attack because there were a few dead ones.
That being said, he now had to deal with what sounded like a very angry rat. “Oh my god,” he groaned, dropping the bat to his side and slumping onto the wall. The adrenaline from the scare was already making his headache worse. He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration before standing back up and making his way into the kitchen.
“Alright you little monster, no need for all that-” he’s started to say, only to end with, “JESUS, fucking, you are not in the trap!” There, sitting outside the trap, was a rat the length of his forearm. As if the absolutely massive size didn’t already scare him, the thing seemed almost rabid. Instead of turning towards Steve when he entered the room, it fervently continued to try and maul the trap to bits. One of its paws was stained red from whatever small mouse was huddled in the back of the trap. Hell, it sounded like the mouse was genuinely crying. The insanity of the situation on top of his now pounding headache, coupled with the earlier scare, made him act purely on instinct.
He swung the bat.
The sickening crack and pained squeak that followed made his stomach roll. Steve watched it flop across the floor long enough to make sure it was dead before dropping the bat and sinking to the floor himself. He let out a loud groan, the back of his head hitting the cabinet behind him as he ran his hands down his face. “What the actual fuck just happened,” he breathed out. God, he wanted another drink. Or maybe all of this was a drunken hallucination and he really didn’t need one. Did that mean he could go to sleep and not have to deal with the giant rat on his kitchen floor?
The stray thoughts came to a halt. The loud enraged rat screeches were gone, but the sound of crying was still present. He thought he had just been hearing things in all the insanity. But no, there it was. Could mice even make that noise? He thought it was just squeaks and squeals. This sounded oddly human, though obviously stifled by plastic. His brows knitted together in confusion as he reached to grab the trap. A sharp yelp emitted from it the moment he moved it, halting the sobs. Remembering the blood on the rat’s paw, he winced in sympathy. Grabbing it too fast must have jostled the injury. He slowed his movements in return, “Sorry little guy, just wanna see how bad it is.”
At first, Steve didn’t see anything odd. The mouse was huddled in the back of the trap, a tail tucked over its back paws. He couldn’t see the wound from how it was huddled, but there was definitely blood on the floor and smeared on the wall. He frowned at that, wondering if he’d even be able to release an injured creature back into the woods in good conscience, before locking eyes with it.
He’d been expecting big, black, beady eyes set on top of a long snout. What he hadn’t been expecting was a very human face staring at him in pure terror. His concerned expression turned into one of shock. He blinked a few times, trying to clear whatever weird image his brain had imagined up, but it didn’t vanish. It merely blinked back.
It only then clicked in his brain that he was holding a very tiny person. You had mouse feet and ears and a tail but there was genuine human fear and pain being conveyed through a human face and body. “Oh my god,” he breathed out shakily, “Jesus Christ, oh my god, oh my god.” He watched your little ears pin farther back to your head at his rambling. Momentarily forgetting your injury, he pulled the trap closer to his face only to receive another yelp of pain. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, let me just-”
Not wanting to jostle your injury again, Steve slowly turned and set the trap down in the counter behind him and kneeled down to see better. He watched you grimace as you pushed yourself into a better seated position before softly chiding, “Hey hey hey, woah, don’t move, don’t move. It’s just gonna make it worse.” Pulling back for a moment in thought, he completely missed the wary confusion that came across your face.
He may not have been the best at first aid, but he had it done to him enough over the years that he knew how to patch someone up. The height difference would make things complicated, but he wasn’t about to just let you bleed out. Luckily, there was a first aid kit in the kitchen, which he quickly retrieved and set down next to the trap. Unluckily, that seemed to spook its inhabitant into pressing as far back into the corner as you could. “Woah, hey, what did I just say? No unneeded moving, alright?” he said as he kneeled back down to eye level. Shit, you looked like you were about to cry again.
“Please, just let me go.”
Steve simply blinked stupidly back for a moment. He didn’t know why it shocked him so much that you could speak. You had a mouth. Maybe it was the part-mouse things. Maybe what shocked him was the emotions in your voice. Either way he hadn’t quite been expecting that.
Or maybe it was the words. Like he planned on keeping you. The thought of it honestly made him a little sick. “What? No no, I’m not trying to trap you or anything,” he tried to reassure you, “I’m just trying to help. You’re bleeding. That’s what this is for.” He pointed towards the first aid kit.
You warily looked between his face and the kit across from you. “You’re not going to, like, dissect me or anything, are you?”
He looked absolutely disgusted by the notion,” Um, ew. No. Jesus, no. Nothing like that. That’s just gross. This is just bandages and shit, stuff to fix up wounds.” For emphasis, he cracked open the kit and pulled a few things out. “See? Typical first aid, no test tubes required.” The smell of the antibiotics and salves must have been strong as he watched your small nose crinkle. You looked back towards him.
“Just bandages? Then I can go?”
Steve nodded, “Then you can go.”
There was a moment of silence as you seemed to contemplate what was said. Looking down at your side, you gulped before slumping farther into the wall behind you. You took in a deep breath before speaking, just loud enough for him to hear, “Okay.”
“Okay,” he parroted with a small smile. Now he just had to get you out of there. Steve really didn’t want to move you, but there was no way to help you with the trap in the way. It was either he tilted the trap to slide you out or you walked out yourself. Tilting it could really mess with the wound, so the second option was probably best. He reached up to undo the door, freezing momentarily when you flinched and hissed in pain. “Sorry, just opening it.” When finished with the clasp, he looked to you, “I hate to ask you to move, but the safest way to get you out is if you come out yourself. Can you walk?” With a nod, you got yourself on your feet. Breathing through your nose and out your mouth a handful of times, you calmed your nerves and slowly crossed to the opening before stepping out.
Steve’s hand shot forward the moment he saw you fall forward. For a moment, all but one thought left him. God, you were tiny. It was one thing to see but another to actually feel. Your whole body was slumped against the side of his hand, yet his hand still eclipsed you. He could feel your erratic heartbeat and unsteady breath against his skin. He felt all of you at once and yet you still felt like a ghost of a touch to him. “Holy shit,” he softly breathed out.
The wet feeling of blood brought him back to his senses. Right, you were injured. He needs to fix that. Slowly, as softly as he could, he used his free hand to lift the tattered side of your shirt. When you didn’t protest, he leaned in closer for a better look. Honestly, it wasn’t as bad as he thought. The scratches weren’t terribly deep, just long. He didn’t think it needed anything besides cleaning and bandages. His shoulders slumped slightly as he let out a sigh. He told you what you needed as he situated you back onto the counter.
“Doesn’t feel like a flesh wound,” you groaned as he wet the tip of a paper towel.
He laughed slightly before turning back and handing it to you, “I’ll let you do the cleaning. I don’t want to mess it up more than it is.” You nodded, hissing as you gently dabbed around the wounds. While you were occupied with that, he busied himself with cutting a strip of gauze and bandage to your size.
When finished, you turned to look at the two objects. Steve placed the small cloth on his fingertip before extending it to you. You worked slowly, making sure the gauze stayed in place as you wrapped yourself with the bandage. When finished, you gave him a small smile, “Thanks.” He gave his own smile in response and nodded.
It was quiet again for a moment as you drank in each other’s presence. After the absolutely wild past few minutes, you both seemed to need a moment to collect yourselves. He could feel the adrenaline seeping from his system and he slowly remembered the headache he had been nursing. Steve could tell you were much the same. You looked ready to fall over at any second, and you’d yawned at least three times.
An idea struck him. He didn’t really want you leaving his sight at the moment, seeing as you were injured, and you both needed sleep. Rubbing a hand through his hair, he shared. “Do you wanna sleep with me?”
There was a beat of silence before you blurted, “What?” If Steve knew any better, he’d say you looked flustered, but he was more focused with fumbling on his words to fixing his mistake.
“Shit, I could have worded that better,” he laughed nervously, “I meant, like, sleep in the same room? It’s just that I’m exhausted, and you look exhausted, and I don’t really want you leaving while you’re still injured because what if you’re alone and it starts bleeding again or you can’t get home or something. I’m not trying to keep you hear and you can totally say no and-”
“Where am I sleeping?”
“-we can just part … what?”
“I said, ‘Where am I sleeping?’”
Steve took a moment to process your question before shrugging, “My room? I was thinking? Queen-sized mattress means a lot of free space. Or I could set a pillow on the nightstand or dresser. Whatever you want.”
He was starting to notice that you played with your tail when you were thinking. You nodded after a moment, “Yeah, um, nightstand’s fine.”
“Awesome,” he nodded.
——— ⚓️ ———
You felt numb. So many different emotions were flowing through you that they seemed to just cancel each other out. Your brain was barely functioning enough to spit out coherent answers to whatever was said.
Besides the throbbing wound in your side, you were mostly focused on the fact that you were indeed talking to a fucking giant. You’d never been this close to a human, not that you could remember. The feeling of his hand under you was still playing in your memory. His entire being eclipsed your view, allowing you to take in every small detail of his face. You could see the dark chocolate brown of his eyes more clearly than you’d ever seen it before. You could faintly feel every exhale of his lungs.
“You okay with me carrying you?”
It took you a moment to reply, “I think so. Just don’t drop me. Or cover me. I don’t like tight spaces.” Steve nodded, grabbing the edge of the counter to fully stand. Your lungs seemed to forget how to function for a moment as your eyes trailed up his frame. He was tall. It had already been obvious from afar, but now? Only a foot away? You were glad you were on the counter and not the floor, honestly. The vertigo of seeing something so big move around with such speed was already enough.
It took everything in you not to flinch at his hands, but that didn’t stop a yelp from leaving your throat at being suddenly scooped up. Steve immediately froze, “You ok?”
“Yeah.” You knew it was too quiet for him to hear the moment it left your lips. You cleared your throat, “Yeah. Just, don’t go too fast. Please.”
“Got it,” he replied. His movements did in fact slow, and you closed your eyes with a soft sigh. The trip may take longer, but at least your nerves wouldn’t be shot. More than they already were, at least.
One of his hands fell away and was replaced by the broad expanse of his chest. The outside world vanished from your senses, completely overpowered by everything else around you. You were engulfed by everything that was Steve Harrington. The black of his shirt and the tan of his hand filled your vision. He was warm, radiating heat into your bones and calming your aching muscles. His skin was firm yet soft, an odd but not unwelcome feeling. You could smell the pine scent of his body wash mixed with the flowery detergent used for his clothes.
To top it all off, you could hear his heartbeat. It was a steady pulse in your ears, loud enough to feel like it was surrounding you. You leaned into him, pressing your ear against his chest. For once, in a very long time, you felt safe. Even with the scratches in your side, you felt comfortable and warm and protected.
You were asleep before he even reached the stairs.
——— ⚓️ ———
Steve hadn’t realized you’d dropped off until he reached his room.
He simply marveled at you for a moment. There you were, cupped in his hand, laying completely lax against his chest. You had felt safe enough to fall asleep in his hand. The feeling that thought gave him was something he couldn’t quite put a name on, but he wanted it to stay. He didn’t want to move you.
So he didn’t. As calmly and slowly as he could so as to not wake you, Steve climbed into bed and pulled the sheets up to just under his cupped hand. He laid his free arm behind his head before closing his eyes. The strain of tonight’s events easily dragged him into a deep, dreamless sleep.
could you write headcannons on stranger things g/t? or story prompts? i love to draw, but my head is empty rn 💀
Oooooo, my two current hyperfixations! I’m going to go ahead and apologize for the length. I haven’t even started typing and I just know I’m going to ramble. Anyways, I hope something in this is what you’re looking for ♥️
• Sizeshifter!Steve has my whole heart. I especially love if his tallest was normal human height and his smallest was 3-4 inches, and it’s emotionally trigger-based. The reason he masks his emotions behind either anger or joy is because any other emotions make him lose control and he shrinks. Also, I hold smol!Steve very close to my heart, he needs more love and care. I feel like he think of himself as insignificant or lesser, especially if you add in this AU, and he really needs to be shown how important he is.
• Same could be said for sizeshifter!El, since her existing powers already tie so closely with her emotions. She also simply doesn’t know how to regulate emotions due to being raised in a lab. Ngl, Brenner would probably give her emotion suppression drugs because teaching her to control her emotions wasn’t working, she simply feels emotions too strongly. Now that she isn’t being forced to take them, it’s hard for her to adjust to them.
• AU where Steve’s house becomes a hotspot for borrowers to live. Like, literally everyone else is a borrower except him. He first learns they exist because the party does something stupid and he spots them, or something of the like. He slowly becomes friends with everyone and helps them when’re he can. His house now has catwalks and pathways around the house so no one accidentally gets stepped on or hurt. Steve actually saves an injured Eddie off the side of the road. The latter had been trying to relocate after being found in his old house and was attacked. The entire Hawkins borrower network knows the Harrington household is safe.
• Smol!Dustin would get in so much trouble all the time because he’d try to befriend any animal he sees. Even known predators. He wants a pet so bad.
• Lucus and smol!Max playing with those little finger skateboards. Max definitely knows more tricks. Lucus would try to defend himself, but he’s smiling the whole time.
• Smol!Robin but harpy-style. Actual robin wings. I imagine she absentmindedly pulls out feathers and has to keep her hands occupied so she doesn’t get bald spots are hinder her ability to fly. She’d jokingly try to “nest” in Steve’s hair just to mess with him.
• AU where the party all end up living in the high school together and get co-parented by Steve and Eddie. They’re all kids so they slip up easily, and the two teens are constantly covering for them. The party is moved into Steve’s house when he graduates. Hopper shows up for one reason or another and it turns out he was basically El’s dad before she inexplicably disappeared years ago. He’s also currently taking care of the Byers family. The Wheeler family is close by (Jonathan is still dating Nancy). Everyone then ends up relocating to the Hopper-Byer household. (I probably explained this one terribly sorry)
• I have a huge soft spot for bat!Eddie, but I need a design where he’s more of a tiny human with bat wings/ears. Or just tiny!Eddie in general. There’s a lot of content where he’s the giant of the situation, but I really like exploring him as a tiny. I feel like his escapism tendencies would get him caught so fast 😭
• AU where Steve thinks he’s being haunted by Eddie. It’s actually just tiny!Eddie but he doesn’t know how to explain his situation and keeps trying to reveal himself in really bad ways.
• Tiny!Will 🥺
• But also giant!Will who’s scared to touch anyone because he’s so terrified of hurting them and he hunches himself to try and appears smaller so he’s not scaring anyone and being really self conscious when eating around anyone and-
• Everyone thinking Vecna is a big bad but then the trio shows up he’s literally so small so Nancy just fucking curb stomps him and they win
