A_Circle
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Wake up. Vomit. Try and hide a massive hangover. Avoid Nancy. Put on a suit. Drink water. Drink more water. Give the best damn speech of all time, one that puts Mike's pedantic bullshit one to shame. Clink glasses with Steve, because yeah—his was definitely better. Hug Mrs. Wheeler, offering her his congratulations. Do the same with the groom. Ask how Ted is doing. Share a dance with Robin. Eat cake. Retire to his hotel room. Fall asleep and—
Wake up.
It's Tuesday again. The sort of day where the sun only rises to humiliate you.
Jonathan blinks. Okay. Let's try this again. They've only got eternity, and one of these days something has got to work, right?
Bookmarked by A_Circle
20 Feb 2026
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When Steve suggested they take a week of winter break and spend it at his uncle’s cabin in Ohio because Nancy offhandedly mentioned she hadn’t been skiing in ages and really wanted to go again one day, he didn’t think that same suggestion would result in being trapped in the middle of a literal snowpocalypse with Jonathan Byers of all people.
Bookmarked by A_Circle
01 Feb 2026
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Steve Harrington has turned out to be a lot like a stray cat―the particular genre of stray cat Lonnie insisted Frog was: The kind that’s not really a stray at all, but looks so cute and sweet and pitiful that you can’t help yourself.
Once Jonathan paid him a little attention, he wouldn’t go the hell away. It was impossible to just ignore him, since he seemed to like being ignored―it must’ve been the thrill of the chase. There was a solid six months where he was almost always on the phone or in Jonathan’s bedroom, flipping his fucking hair around and drawling translate this for me, Byers. What’s our friend Robert Smith saying?
Jonathan has tried throwing rocks at him, metaphorically speaking; he’s been mean and he’s been honest; he’s left the most pessimistic parts of himself in charge.
And somehow, despite it all, Steve is still here.
Series
- Part 4 of A Catalog of Non-Definitive Acts
Bookmarked by A_Circle
23 Jan 2026
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“If you could see one person one more time before the big bad Ruskies obliterate us,” Robin giggles, “who would it be?”
Steve has been feeling so wonderfully unabashedly honest for these last few minutes or months or however long they’ve been here, tied together in their Scoops uniforms and possibly dying from beating-induced brain hemorrhages or Russian poison that he says, without hesitating, “Jonathan Byers. And I’d give him a big ole kiss.”
Series
- Part 1 of A Catalog of Non-Definitive Acts
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Bookmarked by A_Circle
22 Jan 2026
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Steve made his choice, hiding behind his too-big Letterman jacket and later that overpriced Members Only while his friends went out of their way to make Jonathan’s life hell; or what he thought, in the ninth grade, was hell.
Hell actually came two years later, when they dragged Will’s body out of the quarry. When Lonnie came home. When his mother sat him down like he was three years old again and said, smiling tightly, I’m going to have a baby.
Benjamin, the magnificent life-fixing-grief-resolving-replacement-baby, was born nine months later.
Bookmarked by A_Circle
15 Jan 2026