Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome) header
Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome) profile picture

After the world turned right side up from being upside down, everyone got the hell out of Hawkins, but I'm still here.

Hawkins 21+ #Gecko
Joined January 2026
Photo by Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome)Photo by Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome)Photo by Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome)Photo by Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome)Photo by Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome)Photo by Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome)Photo by Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome)Photo by Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome)Photo by Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome)Photo by Steve Harrington (@LastAtHome)
𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙳𝚂 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙴/ 𝙲𝙾𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝙷𝙾𝙼𝙴 Wanted six nuggets of my own and now has a whole team of Cubs. 𝗕𝗮𝘀𝗲𝗯𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗖𝗼𝗮𝗰𝗵 ︳𝗦𝗲𝘅 𝗘𝗱 𝗧𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿 ︳𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝗯 𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘝𝘌 𝘏𝘈𝘙𝘙𝘐𝘕𝘎𝘛𝘖𝘕
ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ꜱᴛʀɪᴄᴛ ᴀ ᴘᴏʟɪᴄʏ. ʙ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟ ᴋɴᴜᴄᴋʟᴇʜᴇᴀᴅ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀꜱ ʟᴏᴡ ᴀꜱ ɪ ɢᴏ. Loves teaching kids about the miracle of life and how not to start it.
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⠀⠀does it ever stop .ᐣ the grief .ᐣ
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Cold? That’s it? That’s all she can tell him. For someone who was dead set on moving to Boston, she’s a closed book. 📞 Cold. He answers back but not in spite. 📞 Figured with the Indiana winters you’d be prepared for east coast weather.
xn--z3h23e.xn--6ii/ Cold. She scrunches up her nose. That's the first thing that comes to mind. It's cold. And she doesn't like turtleneck. xn--z3h23e.xn--6ii/ How's Hawkins?
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📞 No, no, it’s fine. Kind of a night owl anyways It’s not a complete lie because he still sometimes has difficulty sleeping. He’s silent for a moment, making his way over to the couch and sinking into the cushion. 📞 How’s it over there in New England?
Nancy frowns, leaning against the wall as she looks down at her own feet. She still has her work boots on. It's thursday. Steve will probably have to get up early tomorrow. xn--z3h23e.xn--6ii/ Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. I could call another time, if you want?
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Raising the phone away momentarily and looking at in disbelief. Really? She thinks she has to tell him who it is? He recognized it the second he heard the greeting. Bringing it back to his ear. 📞 Hey, Nance, this is a surprise. Everything okay?
Pressing the telephone against her ear, suddenly feeling like an idiot for calling him up. What time was it? Nancy craned her neck to look at the clock on the wall. xn--z3h23e.xn--6ii “Hey. It's me.” she grimaces, “Nancy.”
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Hearing the sound of the phone ringing he closes his binder, walking into the living room, picking it up and bringing the receiver to his ear. 📞 Hello?
Thank God he isn't. The telephone seems to be mocking her, staring right back at Nance. And she gives in with a sigh, grabbing it and dialing his number.
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Not that he can hear her but if he was able to read minds he’d say it wouldn’t be weird.
She hasn't heard of @LastAtHome lately. Thinking about giving him a call— it wouldn't be weird, would it?
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⠀ Currently jumping between reading through his lesson plans and adding some notes inside his playbook. ⠀
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Hawkins 𝗚𝗨𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗜𝗔𝗡 Faculty meetings can actually be fun when pizza and beer is involved, along with impromptu standup.
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Incredibly grateful to Robin.
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Robin just informed me of what debauchery means and I’d like to take that back. THAT did not take place.
Packing an overnight bag because he’s about to head down to Philly to meet with the Scooby Doo Gang. Expect debauchery and other shenanigans.
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Silence is all he’s met with. At this point, he’s practically pleading with her to just say it. To push him forward, because right now he feels stuck, anchored in the back, trapped in the past, unable to make himself leave it behind. He needs the encouragement.
the question lands heavier than he means it to. there’s a familiar instinct to answer quickly, to smooth it over, to give steve something clean and usable so he doesn’t sit in the mess too long. she’s good at that. too good. but tonight, the words catch in her throat. ———
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her during those semi-monthly meetups… but I don’t think I run through her mind the way she runs through mine.” There’s no bitterness in it. No resentment. Just realization. He leans his head back against the couch, legs stretched out, receiver
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pressed to his ear as his eyes slide shut. “Thank you, I needed to hear that. And I know the only person who could tell me was you.”
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He’s pinching the bridge of his nose because she’s leaping over the subject. 📞 Listen, Nance, I’m fine. You’re the one calling me, thinking that I hate you, which I do not, can you tell me what’s going on? No judgement or anything but have you been drinking?
📞 Are you doing okay? Just tell me how you are. She wanted to get the topic off of herself immediately. As long as he was okay, she’d rest easy.
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