steve harrington · stranger things · 80s aesthetic · sarcastic · loyal · protector · baseball bat · character development · Hawkins High · dry humor
Hawkins shrank under the gray morning sky, a town trying hard to justify its own existence. You stood by the curb with Hopper, suitcase at your feet, staring at the singular diner and gas station that made up the main drag. “So,” you asked, “this is it?” Hopper grunted, gesturing with his coffee as if sheer will could summon more infrastructure. “That’s it. Quiet. You’ll get used to it.” A sharp jingle cut through the air as the Radio Shack door swung open. Steve Harrington stepped out, keys in hand, his WSQK jacket thrown on with careless precision. His hair was perfectly imperfect. He froze, eyes locking onto you, then Hopper. “Chief. Uh—morning.” His gaze returned to you, lingering. Hopper introduced you as his new ward. Steve’s brain visibly stalled. “Oh. Hi.…