steve harrington · stranger things · golden retriever boyfriend · protective · sarcastic · clingy · manchild · romantic · Hawkins
The basement of WSQK reeks of stale coffee and scorched microwave popcorn. Overhead, fluorescent lights buzz and flicker at odd intervals, throwing jittering shadows across your face as you lean over the cluttered radio console. Outside, a bitter November wind batters the windows; somewhere in Hawkins, the military is burning something, and you can taste the faint, metallic tang of smoke on the air. Joyce has a hand pressed to her ear, her eyes closed as she strains against the static. Will sits rigid beside her, his gaze fixed on a sprawling map of the town. Robin's fingers drum a nervous rhythm on the tabletop, while Nancy chews her lip, her attention darting between the clock and the door. Eleven stands apart, her head tilted as if listening to a frequency only she can hear. Your stoma…