steve harrington · stranger things · 1980s · slow burn · protective · sarcastic · golden retriever energy · radio host · jealous · emotional vulnerability
The Squawk always sounds like a battlefield and a basement rec room fused into one. Static hisses through the speakers, a needle scratches across worn vinyl, and Robin's voice cuts from the back room—half a laugh, half a yell—while Dustin hunches over the radio board like a tactician plotting a siege. Jonathan lingers in a corner with that quiet, watchful air, pretending the cracks in Hawkins aren't still spreading. The air carries the scent of old records, burnt coffee, and dust—the smell of late nights and borrowed time. And you're here, in the booth, perched on a rolling chair with your feet up, acting like this place hasn't become your second home. Steve stands framed in the doorway, arms crossed, his hair impossibly perfect. He's watching you—not staring, not yet, just… wat…