Resurgam

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/53262415.

Rating: Not Rated

Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category: M/M
Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Relationship: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson
Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckley, Nancy Wheeler,
Dustin Henderson, Eleven | Jane Hopper, Erica Sinclair, Lucas Sinclair,
Maxine "Max" Mayfield, Joyce Byers, Jim "Chief" Hopper, Wayne
Munson
Additional Tags: Platonic Soulmates Robin Buckley & Steve Harrington, The Upside
Down won’t leave these poor kids alone, Gay Eddie Munson, Eddie
Munson Lives, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson is
a Sweetheart, dnd, Steve Harrington Has Absent Parents, Not Really
Character Death, Steve stops existing, Amnesia, Alternate Dimensions,
references to rebel robin, Autistic Robin Buckley, Appalachian Eddie
Munson, Dyslexic Steve Harrington, gender nonconforming Steve
Harrington, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Not Beta Read, No beta we die
like Barb, Happy Ending
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2024-01-24 Updated: 2024-02-04 Words: 4,643 Chapters: 2/?
 Resurgam
by Xxbottlecapxx

Summary

One month after Vecna’s defeat, Steve doesn't pick Robin up from work. No calls go through
to his house. At first, she doesn’t think much of it. But then she calls Eddie Munson.

And Eddie Munson claims he’s never met Steve Harrington. Steve Harrington, his boyfriend.

What Robin originally assumes is a cruel joke turns out to be the exact opposite.

No one in the party remembers Steve. No one but her.

Notes

Ahoy there maties! This fic explores Robin and Eddie’s relationships with Steve and steddie
Will, I promise, be the main ship.

Trigger warnings: misuse of terms like “crazy,” all period typical of the 80’s, mentions of
schizophrenia. If I miss any Tw’s, please let me know.

See the end of the work for more notes

 Bombe

“I’m going to slit his dumbass throat for this shit. It’s fucking cold.” Robin muttered angrily
to herself, the hard-plastic phone from the booth sucking what little heat she had from her
palms. She punches in Steve’s number, gets no response.

It’s been nine months since they defeated Vecna. Robin and Steve, a package deal, had just
gotten a new job at a hair salon only six months back. Robin worked the cash register and
Steve helped with washing hair, drying, cleaning, and the like. He was also apprenticing
under the owner, Charukeshini. It was funny, considering he was the one who got them the
job this time around.

Before the salon, Robin had been the one to get them a job at the Borders book store. Of
course, one night the lights went out (the infrastructure of Hawkins went to shit after the
“earthquake” so there were power outages more often now) and Robin and Steve got so
scared they ended up staying the night. Their employer found them cuddling in the storage
closet in the morning and fired them on the spot.

Steve had been super excited about becoming a hairstylist. That’s why Robin was so pissed.
He hadn't shown up to work today, which had never happened before. She had just talked to
him last night! Robin ended up having to help Charukeshini wash the hair, which she hates
because now she had fucking chemical burns from all the shampoo, chipping her newly
applied black nailpolish. Also they only ever listened to Ruma Guha Thakurta and Yma
Sumac, and sure the music was great, but it got annoying listening to the same singers every
single day.

Steve was supposed to pick her up on days he didn’t work, and it’s been two hours and he
still hasn't come. Charukeshini had been so pissed off that she didn’t even acknowledge the
existence of Steve the entire time. That was really fucking bad.

Robin wondered over her likelihood of getting hypothermia, rubbing her cold fingers
together. It had been lightly snowing in Hawkins since the beginning of October and she
despised it, she had bad circulation as it is. She had already woken up on the wrong side of
the bed, some sort of sticky eyes, drowsiness that settled on her scapula.

The hair salon didn’t have a phone so Robin had to walk an entire mile south to use the phone
booth. Armed with her quarters and a long red coat, Robin aggressively punched in Eddie’s
phone number. She’s called Steve four times to get no answer, which was abnormal in and of
itself. Her walkie’s batteries were dead, clunking heavily in her backpack, so it was of no use
to her.

The telephone rings for a few seconds.

“What?” A hostile voice hissed into her ear. For Whom the Bell Tolls played loudly behind
his voice through his new government-issued speakers, distorting.
“That any way to greet your sister in law?” Robin tried to joke. It probably wasn’t Eddie’s
fault Steve wasn’t there, so she didn’t want to give him a hard time. Eddie was her friend.
She idly mused as to what caused the angry response. Was he having trouble with the bites
again?

-On they run through the endless grey,

She hears a curse, followed by shuffling papers and a loud thump. “Think you got the wrong
number,” replied an uncharacteristically drab tone.

She sighed, her breath turning white in front of her face. “It’s me, Robin.” She gave in. A
crow above her spun in tight-knit circles, cawing maniacally.

“I don’t know a Robin, who’re you lookin’ for?” The hostility slowly faded, replaced with
boredom. She knows it’s boredom because his Appalachian accent only ever comes out when
he’s bored. Other than that, Eddie was extremely hard to read despite how easy everyone said
he was. Robin could never read people, and his over exaggerations just made things more
confusing. Steve said that sometimes Eddie forgets what’s real and what’s fake, is this that?

“Funny shit, Eddie.” Robin groaned, rubbing her sore ears. “I don’t know what Steve’s telling
you, but I’m actually in the right at the moment. I’m cold as fuck, he skipped work without
telling me, I don’t care how high he is, make him pick me up.” She demanded. Her hands
burned from all the shampoo and conditioner, but she hadn't wanted to use the lotion they had
at the salon because it always smelled weird and made her hands feel tacky.

“Look, usually I’m not this nice, but I do think you have the wrong number.”

-Crack of dawn, all is gone except the will to be.

Her voice hardened. “Eddie, this isn’t funny, put your boyfriend on the phone.” Robin didn’t
like losing her temper, but Eddie knew that and he was testing her.

“I- boyfriend? What?” Eddie’s scratchy voice choked up spit so loudly it made Robin’s skin
break out in hives. The sound of something heavy falling is replaced with quick breathing.
“Who is this?” Comes Eddie’s enraged voice. What the hell was he mad about? Was there
someone at his trailer? It’s not like they could hear her, but she hadn’t asked if he was
actually alone. Woops.

“It’s Robin, you nyukhatel' nog, stop bluffing!” Robin yelled directly into the phone now. Her
voice cracked dramatically. Across the street, someone shoveling snow was staring at her.

Oh, right, no Russian in public. Her and Steve just had this conversation.

“This isn’t funny,” Eddie's voice takes on a tone Robin is entirely not used to and thus has no
idea how to handle. “I’m hanging up now. Fucking wacko.”

Robin glared at the phone, the incessant brrrrr sound as Eddie hung up meeting her. She
screamed, slamming the black receiver back in its place.

☴☴☴☴
The trudge to the Hopper-Byers cabin wasn’t that long from her job, but the few inches of
snow and Robin’s shoes not being waterproof made the walk absolutely miserable. She didn’t
know what side of the bed Eddie had woken up on, but she wanted no part in it. At this point,
she was beyond pissed and just wanted to find Steve, yell at him, go home, and watch reruns
of Sanford and Son or Breakfast at Tiffany's. Preferably with Steve, of course, after she had
yelled at him for leaving her alone all day and pranking her. And maybe tell him to wrangle
his boyfriend into a better mood.

Getting to the woods, Robin groaned for what felt like the hundredth time and made her way
past all the booby traps. Despite Vecna’s defeat, they still had the Russian government to deal
with. It was second nature to avoid them, though Robin did notice that the more visible ones
seemed to be missing. She’d have to get El to update her on any changes, she thought as she
swerved between stiff trees.

Joyce decided to move back to Hawkins when they got Hopper out of the secret Russian
prison he had been stuck in. That was a great idea because she and Chief Hopper got married
only four months later. Robin wouldn’t judge, it made sense. They both had kids and jobs and
lives already, why wait? They had already seen the absolute worst of each other.

Kind of like her and Steve. The non-platonic equivalent, that is.

Crunching her way up the wooden steps of the cabin, Robin shook off her shoes, frowning
when she saw that all the snow had worn out the writing she had lovingly scrawled on her
converse, “I won’t go down in history but I’ll go down on your sister,” and “TIDDIEZ” all
effectively ruined.

Another reason to yell at Steve.

Robin knocked on the wooden door, staring at the mezuzah attached to the right doorframe.

Joyce opened it, a striped long-sleeve shirt and a green jacket greeting her. “Oh! Hello, who
are you here for?” Joyce asked, her thin lips moving to grin at her. Robin could hear Mr.
Sandman by the Chordettes playing inside.

Robin stared back at Joyce, waiting to be let in as usual. When she realizes Joyce still has a
firm boundary between them in the form of the door, Robin rubbed her ears again. “Steve?”
She asked, as though it was obvious. It was obvious. Who else would she be here for?

Joyce opened the door a few more cracks. “I don’t know a Steve, I think you might have the
wrong house.” Joyce looked around, as if just now noticing all the snow. “Let’s get you
inside.” She motioned for Robin to finally come in, always the mother.

“Mrs Byers? Is something wrong?” Robin asked, making her way in. Were there spies
watching? The heat didn’t work in the cabin yet, so she kept her coat on. She liked having
layers, like it protected her from the outside world.

For some reason, Robin felt like she needed the protection right now.
She could feel frustration bubbling up in her. She didn’t like it when people started acting
weird. Robin always struggled understanding what was going on socially, and she had no
idea how to decode this. This wasn’t like a language, which had a set of rules and usually a
dictionary. People don’t have dictionaries.

“Do I know you, sweetie?” Joyce replied, still smiling idly as she hurried into the kitchen.
Robin could smell the lekach that Joyce must have been preparing when Robin knocked.

Robin gulped, a terrible feeling in her gut. Something cold trailed across her shoulders.

“Where’s Will?” Robin sat down at the rickety dining table, watching Joyce move around the
kitchen with ease, opening and closing cabinets.

Robin knew Joyce well enough to understand that there was a slight nervous energy to
Joyce’s movements despite not knowing why.

Joyce, on the other hand, did not seem to know Robin.

“He’s… with his friends, what’s the matter? Do you know him from school?” Joyce checked
the oven before sitting beside Robin on another chair. It creaked under her weight. Robin
busied herself by playing with the frayed edges of her backpack straps.

“I think…” Robin took a deep breath, her blue hands starting to shake. She looked deep into
Joyce’s eyes, saw the unfamiliarity there. “I think something bad is happening.” She states. It
was the only thing she could think to say, voice mellow.

First Eddie, now you?

This was a long way to go for a joke. In fact, she couldn’t even think of a reason why Steve
would be pranking her right now. He was never the type to prank someone. Steve literally
told her his biggest fear was being forgotten, why would he do this? Of all jokes to possibly
play? At threat of a job he actually loved? And would Joyce of all people even go along with
it?

No.

No, something wasn’t right. The world was always wrong, she knew this from experience,
but something bad was going on. Something full of ooze and grey dust.

“What do you mean you don’t know Steve?” She asked, louder now, turning her head to
watch Joyce’s concerned expression.

“I mean, I’m sure I’ve met a Steve before, it’s a common name,” dithered Joyce, getting up.
She picked up a checkered towel from the table and fiddled with it. “But I’m not acquainted
with one now.”

“Che due coglioni? What are you talking about?” Robin lamented, waving her hands.
“Steve? You know Steve! He was the one that helped the kids in the tunnels when you were
exercising the mindflayer out of Will! You remember, with all the heaters and the fire
poker?” Robin explained, standing as well and making a fire poker motion with her hand.
Steve (and Mike and Lucas) had told her all about it.

Joyce blinked at Robin before nodding, her face serious. Joyce tends to express emotion with
her neck, and it moved with her now in a way that made Robin vaguely nauseous. “You know
what? I think you’re right. Let me call the Chief and see if he can help us. Stay put” Joyce
nodded, determined. She walked into the hallway just past Robin’s point of view.

Robin took a deep breath, letting the cold air sting her lungs. Feathers all plucked off. She
rubbed her ears again. They really hurt, she would have to take out her earrings.

Robin sat, hunched over, until the song playing from deeper into the cabin repeated itself, and
she noticed that Joyce wasn’t back from her call. She gasped as a squirrel hit the window
full-bodied, running off before Robin could even think to look after it the way she knew
Steve would want to. Robin ignored Joyce’s command and inched her way towards where the
music was coming from, eventually finding the decorated record player in Joyce and
Hopper’s study room. Robin had never really entered the room before despite having free
reign over everything else, but something in her wormy brain made her walk towards it
anyways, the creaking door almost giving her away, the sound like rattling bones.

Robin puttered around aimlessly, finding a broken Russian doll on the shelf, the one that had
given Joyce proof that Hopper was alive and in prison. Robin’s seen it before, when the first
moved in. To her left were a bunch of framed newspaper clippings.

The coverup of Barb’s death and the chemical spill, Will’s disappearance, Hop’s return from
his undercover work, the Henry Creel murders. All the familiar articles that had come out
once the government settled on a plausible story. There were articles on aliens and
government conspiracies littered as well. Robin couldn’t help but think that Murray had
helped set the scene up.

Seeing all that she needed to see, Robin left the room, letting the heavy door close with a
gentle click. She had been here just last week, teaching Will about zines, both gay and DnD
related. She didn’t know as much as Eddie did, but Will was having trouble with Eddie
because of some bitterness with DnD. Apparently, the party had refused to play DnD with
Will but when he left for California, they all decided to play with Eddie, and now Will was
struggling with forgiving him. Robin knew what it was like to be abandoned by her friends,
so she could get where Will was coming from. The difference between them was that Will’s
friends came back, and hers (Barbara) had died before they had the chance for closure.

Steve was helping her out with that.

Finally getting to where Robin knew the phone was, she was careful to be as still as possible,
making sure her coat didn’t catch on any of Will’s framed paintings on the light beige wall or
Jonathan’s photography. Some of the photos were from their time in California, a beach, a
sunset, a mountain. Jonathan in drag, Will in his Will The Wise wizard outfit, The Hellfire
club’s group picture. One, a dead flower amidst a field of living ones.

“I don’t know, Hop.” Robin heard Joyce whispering fervently into the phone. Robin hid
behind a part of the plain wall that jutted out, her gaze on Joyce’s back. Beside Joyce were
four boxes with new phones in them. Even with the Upside Down gone, she always had new
ones on hand. She was handy that way. Always prepared. She knew what it was like not to
be, after all.

They all had confusing idiosyncrasies now. Robin refused to drink tap water, Steve was an
obsessive cleaner, Nancy had started a habit of pairing everything into groups of fours.
Jonathan continuously took photos in case he could catch another demogorgon, like the one
that took Barb, while Dustin studied DnD manuals like his life depended on it. Reptiles, too.
Lucas worked out every single day that he wasn’t carting Max and her wheelchair around,
and Will didn’t speak much anymore. Erica was terrified of teenage boys now, though she
refused to admit it. She was always scared in a way that people confused for anger, and Eddie
had given her a switchblade, so she was a bit stab-happy. Eleven had always been odd, since
she was only recently introduced to society.

Joyce continued. “She seems to know of Will? I remember when we first found him in the
woods, we had stalkers who were obsessed with him, media types, but I don’t think that’s
what this is. She thinks he had some sort of demon in him?” Joyce continues, and Robin’s
heart falls to the creaking floor.

“-And she’s asking about a man living in tunnels with children? She’s not even focusing on
Will, it’s this tunnel guy.”

Robin’s breathing sped up rapidly. If she were outside, she would see the cold air in front of
her speedily taking up space. Her frizzy hair stuck to her face, now stiff and uncomfortable as
her lungs struggled to find oxygen.

“I’ve heard of this thing, Will’s friend Dustin told me about it, Schizo-phrenia?” Joyce
sounded unsure, her murmuring just loud enough that Robin could hear it over the rushing
sound of her own blood drowning her. “Do you think that might be what this is? That she’s
having an.. an episode? Should I get her to a hospital?”

“Merde, merde.” Robin cursed at herself as quietly as possible, trying desperately to tiptoe
away from the hallway. She needed to get out of here. What the hell was going on? She
couldn’t get admitted! She knew what happened in those places. She did a research project on
it once! Of course, she got an F because her teacher Mr. Herrera didn’t like that she was
critiquing the health care system, but still!

She needed to leave. Preferably without Joyce noticing.

Robin made her way to the front door, trying to step only in places on the Chinoiserie carpet
where she knew the old floor wouldn’t react.

“Is that you, sweetie?”

“Joder!”

Robin forgoes subtlety and tumbles out of the cabin, all knees and elbows, throwing herself
out with a ferocity she would only associate with a feral badger. Robin might be clumsy but
Joyce is what, 30 years older than her? Robin has good joints and youthful energy on her
side. That and a healthy dose of mind-numbing, earth shattering fear.

Crashing into trees and tripping over holes, Robin flees the cabin that had once been safe to
her, the music getting fainter and fainter.

-Mr. Sandman, bring us, please, please, please.

☴☴☴☴

Wet skin and wet hair accounted for, Robin took her chattering teeth and barreled her way
with little grace to Dustin’s house. She didn’t want to admit it, but he really was Steve’s
favorite kid, and also the most scientifically gifted. If anyone knew what was happening to
Steve, it was him.

Speckles of white snow fell on her as she traveled, only making things worse. Her body was
absolutely freezing, she was in sensory hell right now. On top of that, her brain was working
a mile a minute to make sense of what was going on.

On her mad dash to his neighborhood on the other side of town, she gets to see Starcourt’s
empty plot of land, unused since the “fire.” She could see make out part of the burnt,
crumbling building over the snowfall. She picks up a stone, char on the side, and placed it in
her coat pocket.

She skips past it quickly.

With the sun slinking in heavy tugs below the square houses, the clouds too plentiful for there
to even be a sunset that displayed more than blue-grey, Robin once again found herself
furiously knocking on someone’s door. This time, it was the fire engine red wood of Ma
Henderson, as Steve called her.

Lucky for her, Dustin opens the door, a plentiful stack of DnD zines in his arms, humming a
song she vaguely recalls him talking to Will about, Weird Al. He must have learned about
zines from Will, there weren’t just gay ones, after all.

“Dustin! Oh my God, you have got to help me. Where’s Steve?” Robin blurted, no care for
the way her damp clothes hung off her rattled form, probably making her look just as crazy as
Joyce had assumed she was.

“Uh, do I know you?” Dustin’s high pitched confusion caught her off guard. A large horsefly
buzzed incessantly around his head, completely ignored.

“What? Dustin, this isn’t funny, where’s Steve? I’m really freaking out.” Robin grabbed
Dustin’s shoulders, holding onto his Hugh Everett sweater.

“Okay, so you do know me.” Dustin squinted at her as though she was a puzzle. It was a
familiar expression that she only ever saw when he was trying to figure out why she wouldn’t
date Steve. He didn’t move away from her grip, weird in and of itself. Usually, he slapped her
hands away when she touched him because despite wanting her and Steve to date, he also had
a fear of Robin taking Steve away, (she only knew this because Dustin had told Eddie, who
told his boyfriend, who was Robin's platonic soulmate so of course, he told her).

“Are you being serious?” Robin panted, taking her own hands away like Dustin had burned
her. Maybe he did. “You don’t remember me?” She felt tears of frustration prickling at her
eyes.

“Listen, lady, I may be smart, but just because you gain facial recognition abilities at about
six to seven months does not mean I’d remember you if we met when I was two.” Dustin
snarked.

Okay, his attitude was still there, even if his memory was not.

“This is crazy! This is crazy,” Robin hissed, her hands on her numb face. “What the fuck is
going on? Listen, listen to me, where’s Eleven? Or, shit, Jane? I think you called her Jane?
Jane Hopper-Byers?” Robin floundered, voice getting higher and higher

“I don’t know a Jane Hopper-Byers. Will doesn’t have a sister.” Dustin backed away, small
eyes wide with an unidentified emotion. “Look, do I need to get my mom? Do you know her?
She’s a nurse, and you’re looking like your body temperature is dropping rapidly-“

“Oh God. Uh, Will could sense the Upside Down, where's Will?” Robin asked instead of
answering him, thoughts forming rapidly in her only slightly defrosted head. They must have
finished a game already, since Will was out with friends. Or maybe he was inside?

“Everyone can sense when they’re upside down, there’s a build up of pressure to your eyes
and skull. I’m gonna go get my mom.” Dustin opened the door as if to usher her through, like
she truly was a crazy lady in need of help.

Fucking wacko.

“I’m going to pass out, somethings wrong, something’s really, really wrong. Fuck!” Robin
yelled, shaking her fists. “Do svidaniya! See you never!”

For the second time that night, Robin finds herself fleeing a now unfamiliar place.

☴☴☴☴

Robin runs to Steve’s house with an energy she does not naturally possess. His car is not in
the driveway. He doesn’t answer the door, which she expected, so she climbs up the side of
the beige wall using the drain pipes and opens his unlocked bedroom window with a well-
timed throw of a rock.

A dusty storage closet meets her.

☴☴☴☴

Robin kicked off her ruined shoes, thanking God that her parents weren’t home. It was hard
having parents that loved you only slightly. They acted like she was everything, but she knew
that telling them the truth about her would ruin their otherwise fine relationship. All the
secrets about the Upside Down certainly didn’t help. She walked on eggshells around them
now, and not just because she was a lesbian. Always so afraid that they would get caught in
her world, wanting to trust them with why she has nightmares but knowing it doomed them if
she did.

It’s hard loving someone so much that you have to lie.

Robin was lucky enough to have a lock on her bedroom door because Steve had helped her
install it. Her parents were very much hippies in all ways they felt they could be, and for a
long time they didn’t believe in privacy. Not that they went through her stuff, but that they
thought the family trusted everyone so much that doors in general weren’t needed.

She had to convince them that she needed the door so she could have (ugh, ew) alone time
with Steve, who her parents were convinced she was dating in a feminist way, hence the lack
of titles. He went along with it, luckily.

And her parents were weird, and they had been so happy about it that they very willingly let
Steve give her a door with a lock.

She locked it now, peeling off her clothes and letting them fall into waterlogged piles on her
tatreez rug. She opened her music box covered in old scratch and sniff stickers, playing a
simple rendition of Isabella Leonards’s Magnificat, Op. 19, which her mother had custom
made for her when she was twelve because she was obsessed with female composers. Robin
then fell face-first onto her bed, shaking. Before she can stop herself, large tears are falling
silently down her face. She hated the feel of them, but wiping them off only put them on her
forearms, which was worse because tears didn’t belong on the arms.

Robin let herself have a moment, just one moment to have a bit of a meltdown. She gripped
her hair and pulled hard, let out a deep hum that verged on a scream, and bodily threw herself
into the corner of her bed where the wall was, so hard her shoulder hit the plaster with a dull
slap that she couldn’t feel now but would certainly feel tomorrow. The Dionne Quints doll
that used to belong to her mom that had residence on her bed was thrown at her lampshade.
She then gets onto her knees and tears her hand-made Catherine Hilda Duleep Singh poster
off the wall, crushing it in her hands.

Surging up in a flurry, Robin ran to the living room where the phone was. She punched in
Steve’s number, tears obstructing her view.

Richard Harrington’s voice appears on the line, telling her to leave a message.

Robin sobs, sinking to the floor, uncaring if her parents find her there without clothes, crying
into the pink receiver with torn poster in her hands.

She pressed her palm to her neck, scratching it with her dull nails. When the Russians had
injected the drugs into her and Steve, the platinum syringe had left a ring-like scar on her and
Steve’s neck. Hers throbbed in the cold, and it reminded her now of the one thing everyone
was denying: Steve’s existence.

Hers was still there, which meant Steve’s was out there somewhere.
Something was very wrong. No one remembered Steve, no one remembered her, except she
was still here and Steve didn’t seem to be. Was he somewhere, unable to remember any of
them, or was he just gone? Dustin seemed to know Will, Joyce seemed to know Dustin, she
was with Hop, the cabin had looked virtually the same as always, everything had, but where
was Eleven?

Eddie. She had to go see Eddie. He was the only person who loved Steve nearly as much as
she did. If anyone was going to be able to figure this out, it would be him. She just needed to
remind him of what they were missing.
 I
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

It is something in his body, or what used to be his body.

He can’t quite place where it’s gone,

only that he’s reaching for it desperately with a pain that aches everywhere. It is cold.

He can feel it sunk somewhere deep under water,

under water and drowning.

Chapter End Notes

💚 Sweet Tooth by Maya Hawke is living rent free in my head, scuttling around with the
termites and roaches.

Friendly reminder to start an ecobrick 💚

Here’s a link to an ASMR video I’ve been obsessed with:

https://youtu.be/OCqysEchMXo?si=Hx4V_QBy2k0GL1lb

See you next week garbitches,

End Notes

💚 This fic is gonna have multiple povs, mainly Eddie and Robin etc, since the focus is still
very steddie. I know I’ve written a few fics here but I’m really very new to writing, not much
of a writer, so constructive criticism is very welcome.

💚Don’t worry, Eddie comes in later and he’s a huge part of this fic. So is Steve.
💚 Robin is a polyglot, and I only speak one language, so I tried my best but it’s possible it’s
bad or cringey. Advice is greatly appreciated. If I got any translations wrong, please let me
know!

nyukhatel' nog: foot sniffer, Russian.

Che due coglioni; what the fuck, Italian

Merde: shit, french.

Joder; fuck, Spanish.

Do svidaniya; goodbye, Russian

💚 And here’s a list of positive affirmations for anyone who might want them;
https://www.skillshare.com/en/blog/160-positive-affirmations-for-all-aspects-of-your-life/?
via=blog-internal&coupon=blog1month#what

💚Adios garbitches, remember to recycle.💚

Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!