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that-ineffable-devil · 11 months

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Rainbow in the Dark | Chapter 5

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Author's Note: My deepest apologies for this particularly rough/rushed chapter. The house and health issues described last week bled into this week, but I couldn't go another full week with no update.

As I mentioned in my notes at the end of Chapter 4, I wanted to write a Jonathan POV chapter, and this is it. It also helps bridge the gap between our boys in their youths and their older selves, because I'm not writing their entire Jr. High/High School careers. This chapter picks up the Monday following Steve's disastrous weekend in Chapter 4, so it's gonna be angsty. I swear I didn't mean to write so much angst--it's just where the boys took me!

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter has very little content that should require a warning. However, there is a brief mention of the fights between Jonathan's parents that may be triggering, so I've put that and the rest of the chapter under the cut.

Chapter 5: If You Don't Want Me, Set Me Free

Jonathan’s stomach fluttered with excitement as he parked his bike at school Monday morning. He’d never been very good at making friends, and it still seemed impossible that he’d somehow become friends with the Steve Harrington. More than that, he couldn’t believe how kind and funny Steve was.

Jonathan had been on the wrong end of a few run-ins with Tommy Hagan, and there was nothing kind about that boy. Oh, he could turn on the charm when he wanted to get his way, but there was nothing genuine about him. Hagan was always making jokes about him—his hair, his clothes, even his parents. Eventually he’d learned to keep his head low and try to ignore the words, though some would always slip past his barriers—and those were the ones that stuck with him.

The fact that Steve was always with Hagan told Jonathan everything he needed to know about him—or so he had thought. He couldn’t reconcile the Steve he knew with the one who was friends with Hagan. Maybe Steve didn’t realize that Hagan was intentionally cruel. Maybe he just didn’t care—but that didn’t seem likely with what Jonathan had learned last week. He’d been obsessively trying to puzzle out Steve Harrington all weekend, and eventually decided it didn’t matter.

Because Steve Harrington from the library was the real Steve—the one who was his friend. And today he’d get to hang out with his friend at lunch time—an entirely foreign, but exciting concept. Jonathan’s smile widened into a stupid grin as he walked toward the school building, ducking his head instinctively so no one could see.

Maybe the universe wasn’t out to get him after all—maybe this was an olive branch, a way to make up for his life thus far. Maybe things were finally looking up for him.

Jonathan tried to catch Steve’s eyes as he entered homeroom, but the other boy was listening raptly to something Tommy was saying. Unwilling to put himself in Hagan’s crosshairs, Jonathan ducked his head and hunched his shoulders, silently finding his seat a row behind Steve.

Despite his best efforts, his eyes kept trailing to the back of Steve’s head during class. The boy’s hair was combed neatly to the side, not a strand out of place. A bit of a tag stuck up from the collar of his white t-shirt, and Jonathan wondered idly if he was bothered by it—if he could feel it scratching his neck but didn’t realize what it was—or if he was completely oblivious to it. Jonathan gripped his hands together as he felt the urge to tuck the tag back into Steve’s collar, like his mother had done for him so many times before.

Steve was never still during class—constantly rolling his neck, tapping his fingers, or jiggling his knee. Jonathan knew he was trying to pay attention, but he was probably only picking up half of what the teacher was saying. He smiled to himself as he remembered Steve pinching the bridge of his nose after he’d tried (and failed) to decipher his own notes in the library.

The hairs on the back of Jonathan’s neck prickled uncomfortably as he sensed someone’s eyes on him. His stomach dropped when his eyes flicked over to see Hagan staring back at him, a cruel smirk twisting across his face. His mouth suddenly dry, Jonathan dropped his eyes to his desk. He felt as if all the blood had drained from his body, a cold sweat raising goosebumps across his skin.

He kept his eyes locked on his desk through the rest of the class. Though he still occasionally felt that unsettling prickle of eyes on him, he didn’t dare confirm his suspicions. Whatever Hagan was planning, Jonathan didn’t want to be a part of it. He couldn’t help but hope he wouldn’t have to share Steve with him for long—that once Steve spent more time with him, he’d realize what an asshole Hagan really was. Steve deserved better than that.

When the lunch bell rang, Jonathan thought he might try walking to the library with Steve, instead of just meeting him there. Unfortunately, Hagan had stuck to Steve like flypaper all day, and even now Steve remained trapped in the glue. He tried to catch Steve’s eye again—to somehow silently confirm they were still meeting in the library today—but Steve didn’t see him. Jonathan bristled as Hagan caught his eye instead, something like victory evident on his features. That bastard had been monopolizing Steve’s attention all day—did he know about their time in the library?

Unable to confirm his plans with Steve, Jonathan decided to head to the library anyway. His mom had been in such a hurry to get to work that she’d forgotten to pack his lunch, and he didn’t have any money to spare—and sitting in a lunchroom watching other people eat did not sound remotely appealing.

He found a seat at their usual table and opened his backpack, pulling out one of the homework assignments he’d received that morning. If he had to wait, he could at least get something done. He trusted Steve would get there as soon as possible—though his eyes kept drifting to the library door, hoping he’d catch the other boy walking in.

Jonathan jumped when the bell for next period rang shrilly through the halls, despite the fact that his eyes had been glued to the large round clock on the wall for the past fifteen minutes, his homework assignment long since abandoned. Each second that ticked by had felt like a claw slashing through his chest to get to his heart, even after he’d realized that Steve was not going to show today.

He swallowed thickly, trying to smother his disappointment and soothe the ache in his chest. His mind raced through the possibilities—maybe Hagan hadn’t given Steve a chance to get away; maybe Steve had an appointment that he forgot to tell Jonathan about, and his parents had picked him up; maybe he’d gotten sick—or maybe he was just really hungry today. Maybe he forgot. Maybe he hadn’t meant what he said last week. Maybe he had really just been using Jonathan to get his assignment done last week. Maybe they weren’t really friends.

No, he couldn’t believe that. If Jonathan knew anything, it was how to read people, and Library Steve was genuine. He’d meant every word he’d said, and he’d been truly excited about meeting up with Jonathan again this week. They were friends. Something had just come up, and Steve didn’t have a chance to tell him.

Jonathan swiped at his eyes quickly to rid himself of any tears threatening to spill over and he took a steadying breath. It’s OK, he thought to himself. It’s only Monday, we have all week.

But the rest of the week went much the same.

Each day, Jonathan tried to quietly get Steve’s attention, and each day Steve didn’t see him. Each day, Jonathan waited alone in the library, his eyes flicking between the clock and the door, no longer even pretending to work on assignments. Each day, Jonathan’s heart broke a little more, his chest crushing it with the heaviness of realizing Steve was never coming back to the library. Not this week. Not ever. Not for him.

By Friday morning, Jonathan’s confusion and hurt had curdled into anger. His parents had spent the night before shouting and throwing things at each other after his father had said something particularly cruel to his little brother, Will. Jonathan had pulled Will into his room and turned the stereo on, turning it up louder as the shouting escalated to screaming and breaking glass. Will had slept in Jonathan’s room. Jonathan hadn’t slept at all, determined to keep his body between the door and Will, afraid of what their bastard father would do even after the fight died down.

The dark circles under his eyes belied the fire sparking in his dark irises, exhaustion doing nothing to quell the pain-fueled rage. He’d been patient, he’d been understanding; now Steve was going to explain himself.

Jonathan managed to keep himself together through the first half of the school day. Steve still wasn’t meeting his gaze—something he had finally realized was intentional. Hagan was still throwing him smug winks and smirks, and he could barely restrain the rage that uncoiled fiercely in his chest as he met Hagan’s eyes.

Jonathan had never been prone to violent emotions—he had vowed to never become his father—so he was shocked when the overwhelming urge to pummel the other boy’s face into the ground rose from his stomach like bile. Hagan had something to do with this, he was sure of it—but that didn’t excuse Steve steadfastly ignoring him all week.

When the lunch bell rang, instead of heading toward the library as he’d done every other day this week, Jonathan trailed Steve and Tommy as they walked toward the lunchroom. He had planned to wait until the end of the day, to catch Steve just before he left for home—but he couldn’t wait any longer. He couldn’t risk Steve leaving before he could reach him.

So, he followed from a distance as the two boys entered the cafeteria and headed to the lunch line. He’d brought his own lunch, but he stood in the line anyway, waiting for the two boys to get their meals and head to their usual table.

Moments after they’d settled into their seats, Jonathan abandoned the lunch line and bee-lined to their table. They were so deeply engaged in conversation that they didn’t notice Jonathan’s approach until he was upon them, slamming his backpack loudly on the table to get their attention and making them both jump and look up at him in shock.

Jonathan’s face burned hot as he glared at Steve, ignoring the ringing in his ears and the whispers of onlookers. He kept his eyes on Steve’s face, searching for something he couldn’t describe, determined to ignore the way Hagan’s face shifted into a smirk. He noted the way the blood left Steve’s face as he met Jonathan’s scowl, the way his pupils shrank to pinpricks and his body recoiled in fear.

Something in Jonathan broke and begged him to stop, terrified he’d say something he’d regret—terrified of making Steve fear him like he feared his father. But the pain and anger roiling his insides would not be silenced—it was too late to go back now.

“J…Byers!” Steve choked out, his eyes flicking around the cafeteria anxiously.

Jonathan wanted to be kind—he could feel the dread radiating from Steve—but a week of anxiety and hurt—a night of fear and fury and exhaustion—had left him with no compassion to give.

“So, you can see me!” he spat back, his forehead furrowing as the anger took over.

“W-what?”

“I’m not invisible, then? Not a ghost? You can see and hear me, yeah?”

“I-I d-don’t…”

“What’s wrong, Byers? Rough week?” Hagan interjected, a gleeful malice dripping from every word.

Jonathan didn’t look away from Steve, determined to see the truth—no matter the cost.

“Shut up, Hagan, this doesn’t involve you,” he spat at Tommy, finding courage in his fury.

“Oh look, the runt has some fight in him after all,” Tommy announced to the cafeteria.

Steve’s eyes still held Jonathan’s, as if he were unable to break away.

“Where were you? I waited. All week,” Jonathan said, ignoring Tommy and trying to keep his voice low.

Jonathan was acutely aware of an entire cafeteria of eyes on them now; he hadn’t anticipated that, and he wasn’t prepared for that kind of attention.

Steve didn’t respond, his mouth opening and closing, as if the words simply weren’t there.

“You waited, Byers? What for? Did you think my boy Harrington here was really your friend after you helped him with that essay? Really? You? Are you that pathetic?”

The barbed words stung as they sunk into Jonathan’s skin, but he kept his eyes on Steve, looking for confirmation or contradiction—anything. He needed to know, but he was losing resolve with every second of Steve’s silence.

“Steve?” he asked, even quieter this time.

“Wait…or was it…? No, it couldn’t be…” Tommy announced to the cafeteria, his voice mockingly hushed as though performing on a stage. “Did you think you had something special with Harrington, Byers? Develop a cute little crush on Hawkins’ star athlete, did you?”

Jonathan instinctively jerked back as if slapped, his eyes finally breaking from Steve’s to stare wide-eyed at Tommy—he didn’t see Steve’s head jerk down to stare at the table, his lips pursed tightly together.

“W-what?” Jonathan replied, still in shock.

“You heard me. Everyone heard me. And I don’t hear you denying it.”

Hagan’s voice was light, as though he were talking about the weather, but Jonathan heard the intent behind the tone—the challenge.

Silence rang through the cafeteria louder than any school bell; not a whisper fluttered between students. Jonathan felt his chest tighten as he flashed back to the words his father constantly hurled at Will—queer, fairy, faggot. He couldn’t breathe.

“I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, Byers,” Steve said finally, his voice soft and low.

Jonathan snapped back to reality, as if Steve’s voice reminded him of why he was here—what this whole awful situation was about.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about,” Jonathan replied, his voice flat and monotone.

It wasn’t a question. Jonathan felt the ache in his chest bloom into a burning flame as his entire body flushed with the heat of embarrassment and anger.

“No,” Steve replied simply, eyes still lowered.

“So, we didn’t hang out in the library at all last week?” Jonathan asked incredulously, feeling his voice rise involuntarily.

“We worked on our English Lit essays at the same table, that’s all,” Steve replied, his voice also rising with the color in his cheeks.

“Really? That’s what you’re going with?!” Jonathan was losing control, his voice and body taking his brain somewhere it didn’t want to go.

Both he and Steve seemed to have all but forgotten that anyone else was there—even Hagan.

“That’s what happened,” Steve hissed, his eyes finally meeting Jonathan’s again, though now they were inscrutable.

“That is not what happened, Steve, and you know it.”

“Stop kidding yourself, Byers. I know you’re lonely or whatever, but if you’re hallucinating some kind of friendship with me, you’re deluded. Get some help, man. I don’t need some bullshit drama from a crazy Byers,” Steve said coldly, though his eyes had left Jonathan’s to stare at something behind him.

Once again Jonathan recoiled as if slapped; he felt hot tears rising in his eyes. He needed to get out of here. Now.

“Bullshit drama, right,” Jonathan replied, trying to hide the cracks in his voice.

“You know what I think, Harrington? I think you’re bullshit. All bullshit, no substance. Just some dick faking and bullshitting his way through life. And what’s more, it’s going to come back around, and you’ll have nothing but your own bullshit to blame. Have a nice fucking life and fuck you.”

He spat the last words with an icy venom, punctuated by him yanking his backpack up and over his shoulder and stalking off, trying to shake the image of Steve’s broken and pained expression from his memory—an expression he had to have imagined.

He made it to the boy’s bathroom before the tears finally overwhelmed him, wracking sobs ripping from his chest as the entire week crashed around him at once.

The immediate aftermath of the “Batshit Byers” confrontation only lasted a few weeks, with random hurtful notes and drawings showing up on and within Jonathan’s locker and cruel laughter following him through the halls. It shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did—it wasn’t really much different than how things had been before Steve—maybe a little more overt, but the same results.

But there was one glaring difference between the time before the library, and the time after it. Before that week, all Jonathan had known was being the school freak—the weird kid that most people ignored.

But then he’d spent a week in the library with Steve Harrington, and for the first time in his life he’d allowed himself to feel something he never had before—hope. Hope that things could be different. Hope that things could get better. Hope that he could have something good and warm in his life.

The following week had completely disabused him of that illusion. The universe had made it excruciatingly clear that hope would be extinguished with extreme prejudice, and that what he wanted in life was not his to obtain. That weekend, as he tried to pick up the needle-sharp shards of his broken heart, his purpose in life began to crystallize in his mind.

He didn’t need friends or love to distract him from what was important—his mom and brother. He would care for them, support them, protect them. His family needed him more than he needed anyone, especially someone like Steve Harrington in his life.

Post Notes: I have GOT to stop breaking my own heart. But I feel like this chapter is a solid bridge between the friendly relationship Jonathan and Steve had developed in the library and the outright hostility by S1 of the show. Sure, it could have just been about Nancy--but why would we want to follow the overused heteronormative "he has a crush on my girl and that is unacceptable" trope? I think we can do better. And so can our boys.

Chapter 6 Preview: After the events that put young Eddie in the hospital, he moves to Hawkins with his Uncle Wayne. It's a rough adjustment for a 13 year-old boy, especially when he has the freedom to test his (and his uncle's) boundaries for the first time in his life. [Currently in Development--may include a little excerpt from his early Corroded Coffin days or we may quickly skip ahead to S4 Eddie; I'll update when I know for sure.]

Thank you to all readers who have made it this far! Likes, comments, and shares are deeply appreciated! I, like Steve, am heavily motivated by praise.

Credits

Bat dividers courtesy of StrayWords.

Fic title courtesy of Rainbow in the Dark by Dio.

Chapter title courtesy of Should I Stay or Should I Go by The Clash.

#jonathan byers #steve harrington #jonathan stranger things #hinted stonathan #future steddie #tommy hagan #childhood trauma #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #read on a03 #fic: rainbow in the dark #stranger things #is it obvious that i cannot stand tommy hagan?#i'm sorry to anyone who wrote him better #and i'm sure he's a multifaceted human being #but that doesn't excuse the douchebaggery #and let's be honest #tommy hagan excels at douchebaggery

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bylerspookie · 7 months

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GUYS DID YOU SEE THE STRANGER WRITERS TWEET??? FIRSTLY, I GIGGLED. SECONDLY, ARE STEVE AND JONATHAN FINALLY GONNA LIKE IDK WORK TOGETHER/LEAVE THEIR DRAMA BEHIND BC THEY'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A WHOLE ASS APOCALYPSE (CUS LIKE MAYBE AFTER NANCY AND JONATHANS TALK JONATHAN IS LIKE MAYBE SHE'S RIGHT MAYBE HE ISN'T THAT BAD)??? OR ARE THEY GONNA HAVE MORE BEEF?? (CUS JONATHAN COULD ALSO TAKE IT AS LIKE OH SO YOU STILL TRYNA GET WITH HER I SEE)

ALSO WTF ARE THEY DOING??? CONNECTING WIRES???? ELECTRICITY????? ARE FRIENDS ELECTRIC???? I CAN SMELL IT GUYS

NO SERIOUSLY IS THAT A TRAFFIC LIGHT WHAT'S GOING ON

WHAT DOES STEVE LIKE HIT???

AND WHY IS HE JUST LIKE...STARING AT JONATHAN I'M DONE

#I'm going insane #because this is the only hints we've got for s5 in like #months #anyway #byler #steve harrington #jonathan byers #platonic stonathan #????#stranger writers #stranger things

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unfinishedslurs · 11 months

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Whoopsie!! I totally killed Steve. My bad guys

Steve is batted away like a rag doll, and goes flying into a tree. The sickening crack leaves Dustin stunned, and he stops in his tracks, staring. Waiting for Steve to get back up, like he always does.

He doesn’t.

Okay, so he’s passed out. Bad timing, but it’ll be like when Billy beat him up. He’ll probably have a nasty concussion, and a broken bone, but it’s fine. He’s fine. He’s always fine. It’s Steve.

“Steve!” Robin cries. She starts to run to him, but a monster gets in her way and she has to defend herself. One rushes at him, too, and Dustin goes back to the fight.

As soon as it’s over, Robin is hurtling towards the tree that Steve is still lying at the base of. Bile rises in Dustin’s throat as he follows her. He shouldn’t be passed out this long, it’s a sure sign of severe brain damage. He shouldn’t be laying this still.

When he catches up, Robin is already shaking him. “Steve,” she pleads as the others come to see what’s going on. “Steve, c’mon, wake up. We gotta get you to a hospital. Hear that? It’s your least favorite word! I’m going to stick you in a hospital for life if you don’t wake up right now—“

“We should check his pulse,” Dustin says distantly. “Make sure his heartbeat’s steady.” He drops to his knees to do just that. Just as quick, Jonathan nudges him away.

“I’ll do it,” he says, in a voice Dustin’s only heard him use on Will. “I’ve got some first aid training under my belt.”

He doesn’t reply, just takes the hand Robin’s not clutching and stays still, staring at Steve. He can’t stop feeling like something’s off about the way he’s laying there, completely motionless—

His heart stutters in his chest. Steve’s completely motionless. He’s usually so bad at staying still, always running his hands through his hair, or flicking his lighter, or tapping a beat against the steering wheel. Now, he’s not doing any of that. He’s not moving at all. There’s not even a rise and fall of his chest.

Dustin stares uncomprehendingly. He has the puzzle pieces, he knows he does, but he can’t make them come together. It’s like his brain is rejecting the picture it makes.

Jonathan pulls his fingers away from Steve’s throat, brow furrowed, anxiety pulling at his features. He starts to take Steve’s hand, but Dustin can’t make himself let go.

Gently, ever so gently, Jonathan pries his fingers off the limp wrist in his grasp. Dustin lets it happen, silent.

Robin hasn’t stopped talking, quiet murmurs replacing the panicked concern from before. He can’t understand the words through the roaring in his ears.

Jonathan has turned white as a sheet, frozen with his fingers looped around Steve’s wrist. He thinks he might know what it means. He thinks he’s wrong, he’s wrong, he’s got to be wrong—

Robin shifts to lie perpendicular to Steve, and lays her head on his chest. Quiet, like she’s listening for something.

She doesn’t find it.

It’s been three weeks, but Dustin can still hear Robin’s anguished howl ringing in his ears.

They had to pull her off of him, needed Hopper and Murray both because she fought. Kicked and scratched and screamed when they took her. Kept calling out for Steve to wake up between it all, escaped twice so she could go back and hold him. Hopper was grim, face open and awful, Murray pale and swearing as they wrestled her away.

Dustin hadn’t moved, still in shock. Jonathan and Argyle had to practically carry him out, because he couldn’t make his limbs work. He couldn’t make himself leave Steve’s side.

He realized what they were doing halfway to the car.

“Wait,” he said, twisting, “wait, what are we doing? We can’t leave him there. We can’t leave him alone, he hates being alone. We can’t—“

Jonathan and Argyle exchanged a look over his head.

“I’ve got him, man,” Argyle said quietly. Jonathan gave a sharp nod before moving in front of Dustin, ducking down to meet his eye. Tears were streaming down his face.

“I’ll sit with him,” he promised. “Go ahead and go with Argyle, okay? I’ve got him. He won’t be alone.”

“But I—“

“I’ve got it,” Jonathan repeated, voice cracking. Dustin nodded and fell limp against Argyle’s side. He trusted Jonathan. Steve did too.

When they got to the car, Robin was still thrashing. Murray was practically sitting on her, a bruise forming over his eye.

“Where’s Jonathan?” Hooper asks sharply when he sees them.

Argyle gestured helplessly. “Sitting with him. Dustin said…he didn’t want to leave him alone.”

Hopper's eyes were defeated, and he swiped a hand across his face before getting up and heading towards Steve and Jonathan without another word.

Dustin climbed into the backseat, where Murray finally had Robin pinned. She was yelling herself hoarse.

“You—you asshole, get the hell off of me, you can’t just fucking—you don’t get it, he needs me, he hates being alone, he hates it, he fucking hates it and he’s never alone. As long as I’m here he’s never fucking alone so let me go—“

“Robin,” he croaked, holding her arm. She whipped her head towards him immediately, eyes wide.

“Henderson. Dustin, tell this asshole to let me go. I need to go to Steve. We can’t—I can’t leave him alone, please, he needs me there—“

“He’s not alone,” Dustin promised around the lump in his throat. “Jonathan’s with him. Jonathan’s gonna stay with him, he won’t be alone.”

She shook her head. “No, he needs me—“

“Jonathan will take care of him,” he repeated. “He’s Will’s big brother, he’s good at taking care of people.”

She finally stilled, eyes on Dustin. “Jonathan has him?”

He nodded, face wet, and she finally relaxed.

“Jonathan’s good,” she said. “Steve…Steve likes Jonathan.” She laughed, sharp enough to make him flinch. “He’s a sucker for pretty boys.”

Argyle made a low, hurt sound, like he’d been punched. Murray moved to the middle seat, relieved that he no longer had to pin her down.

In a move that they should have seen coming, she opened the door and bolted.

“Shit!” Murray barked, and ran after her.

#stranger things fanfic #Whoopsie!! I totally killed Steve. My bad guys au #dustin henderson #robin buckley #jonathan byers #Argyle #dead steve harrington #there’s a HINT of stonathan there because if you know me you know I am a stonathan girlie first and a human being second #Even when I’m not writing it. Even when I’m intentionally trying not to write it. It will appear #Stobin #Robin girlie I am so sorry a bitch like me would do this to u. You deserve better than this #The stonathan in this is not established I have to say. It’s something they’ve tabled for later. It’s something they agreed could wait #It’s something they want to try when the world isn’t falling apart around them because they both have too many responsibilities #In the here and now #And now they never will #This is post s4 btw. Dustin gets to lose TWO brothers!!!!!#….don’t kill me?

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feralsteddie · 2 years

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Uhhh steddie/jargyle fic based on Cough It Out by The Front Bottoms

#steddie #jargyle #i have a playlist about fucking your drug dealer and then falling in love #and it’s making me go insane with ideas about them #there’s also hints of stonathan in there but in a sad way #oh wait fuck I actually have so many little saved scene snippets that I’ve had to cut from other projects I could use for this

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timetobeaghost · 2 months

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Breaking my silence

I guess fandom doesn't take leaker maire3xx on X too seriously. But I do, I buy it - like 72% buy it, who would want to be sure. People brought the counter argument that they said Lucas would die in S4, but they claim they just hinted hints about shit getting real in the Creel house, that was taken as Lucas dying. Which from the way they talk I can believe? Are there better counter arguments?

Here a summery go what they said for S5:

Byler endgame, it happens in E5

Before that there is a scene that WILL make us cry best described by the saddest Adele lyrics ever "Please, stay where you are, don't come any closer, don't try to change my mind, I'm being cruel to be kind. (O MY GAWD) I can not love you in the dark, it seems like we're oceans apart" And it's Mike -> Will, so get ready

Emotionality of the Byler arc is 10 out of 10

Emotionality of the Elmike arc, which they described as 💔 is 8/10, Scene on the rooftop is "very emotional!

Will gets so possessed, like they won't shut up about it. completely super constantly possessed. No powers but when possessed. Dangerous and veiny when possessed, which he so is. Like fr.

Vecna gets involved in the love triangle in that he wants to break it up. To isolate them.

Will in the bts pic is a spoiler because plot and time jump, we'll get it when we watch the show.

The Sinclairs move away and Lucas is not in Hawkins High to be bullied alongside Dustin and Mike. The Sinclair siblings insert themselves into the plot somehow using Erica's friend Tina. Lucas is then hyper focused on Max. Caleb has not filmed yet (or when they said this not so long ago)

Max is playing a large part in not the real world. Which might be for the best... Sadie has filmed one scene.

Eddie is back. Just is.

No conflict between Mike and either Dustin or Lucas, they're tight. And also have scenes with the 3 of them.

Stonathan BFF, Rockie is happening, duh. Lots of new interaction, half the cast at the barn and also radio station. (not Lucas tho) Everyone is closer to everyone.

El gets a happy ending.

Jonathan dies. No, he doesn't! Or does he? (I'm telling you they are sometimes playing, but dear god I hope Jonatan doesn't die.

Mike is in danger, his plot in 4 emojis: 🔻⚠️❤️🗡️

Wills arc in 4 emojis (he possessed) 👦🏻 👁️*hand I can't find*❤️ ( hand might say stop or be laid on someone's chest?)

Idk I can work with all that. Unless Jonathan dies, then I hate this show!

#stranger things 5 #stranger things spoilers #byler #any believers?

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robinswise · 10 months

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okayyyy unpopular opinion that will more then likely turn into a rant!

EDDIE 'THE FREAK' MUNSON IS THE BANE OF MY EXISTENCE

AAAAAA

ok.

I. Do. Not. Like. Eddie. Munson.

Just to get this out of the way, I don't hate Joseph Quinn at all, he's a great actor, but I hate Eddie.

OKAY I NEED TO ACTUALLY GET TO THE POINT-

Eddie is an asshole

Why couldn't he push the dnd campaign to a different day? Is there a reason? I don't think there was, I don't remember there being one and when I googled it, sure enough, there doesn't seem to be a reason.

Really couldn't his role have been given to pretty much any of the characters?

Mike.

Lucas.

Dustin.

Jonathan would've made the most sense (to me) if he wasn't in Cali (in season 1 we know some people thought Jonathan might've k!lled Will, so they could've thought he did the same to Chrissy)

Even Steve.

Honestly, even Max could've been given the role

Also, I don't dislike most people who like Eddie, alot of them are just really obsessed (like a scary level of obsession)

ALSO STEDDIE-

I posted about them positively one time a while ago but no I do not ship them.

The context for that post was that I didn't hate Steddie - at the time I even vaguely liked them (or more specifically, I liked the way that certain people wrote them) but I didn't ship them, they just made the most sense for that specific idea and I didn't hate them at the time.

I was reading something that was part of a longer series of posts and the person had hinted that Stonathan would be in it but then suddenly Eddie appeared and Steddie was heavily implied - which normally wouldn't be an issue but they didn't tag it with Eddie or Steddie.

Anyways, Argyle is in my opinion the better character added in season 4.

Another thing, it didn't bother me initially but Eddie stans acting like Eddie and Dustin's friendship is so unique is really annoying to me-

Because- no- like sure, he's close with Eddie, but the friendship is not unique whatsoever, in terms of older brother like friends he had Steve, in terms of outcast nerds who like dnd he had the party, and in terms of friends with attitude problems he had Mike and Max

Also, was his death really all that shocking? It fit the st formula perfectly! Introduce a new character just to k!ll them off

Benny

Barb

Bob

Billy

Even in search 4 we got Chrissy Fred and Patrick

About his crazy fans - not all are like this, I've met some genuinely nice Eddie fans who've written genuinely good Steddie ficlets - but was sending death threats necessary? Because I just don't get why that whole thing happened.

I think Eddie coming back in any form other then a flashback or Vecna vision would just maks me upset tbh, like actually, what would be the point? They already pulled "look he's actually alive!" Trick with Hopper (and to an extent, Will) so doing it a third time (even for such a fan favorite) would just feel lazy to me

Also, in my opinion, Will would dislike Eddie, so many people say that Will would love him but to me, I feel like it would be very out of character for him to like Eddie (knowing that Will doesn't like extra attention - at least not from people who might judge and/or ridicule him - and Eddie actively draws it)

I feel like the fact we only got a reaction to Eddie's death from Dustin and Wayne is really telling as to how little importance he actually had, because even Mike who was friends with Eddie didn't know about his death - or at least his reaction wasn't important enough to show.

I found Eddie's guitar solo to be very pointless and even rather boring.

Also, there are people who ship Eddie with Billy?? Ew.

Even as someone who does not like Eddie at all I can confidently say that he deserves better and would probably not fall for that walking piece of dog shit (once again, I don't hate Dacre Montgomery I just hate Billy)

Anyways, in short, I don't mind Joseph Quinn or Eddie's fans, I know there's definitely worse characters in the show, and at the end of the day I'm just a nerd on the internet who's been fixated on the same subject for probably way to long so it's fine to have a different opinion then me

#a very stupid rant #was this necessary? no #did it make me feel better? yes #anti eddie munson #anti steddie #stranger things #also it's 3am so this is not proof read and I'm tired #if you want to argue with me just block me instead tbh

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faithfulcat111 · 10 months

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Stonathan Sundays

I'm thinking of this as a spiritual predecessor to one of my Stonathan week fics in which you'll learn more about just why Jonathan hates the dark. Till then, enjoy this on-the-spot Stonathan Sunday ficlet! @stonathanweek

"I'm not a big fan of the dark."

Steve looked up from where he was trying to piece together the map that Dustin had given him before he headed out on patrol. Jonathan sat on the other side of said map, looking blankly through the slats of the boarded over window beside them. The little shack of a house that the two had found themselves taking shelter in was long abandoned like most of the area around Hawkins, but you could still see the glowing red sky above what was formerly town center. It was growing and none of them were certain how much longer their rag-tag group could hold back the worst of the things crawling out of the cracks before they had to evacuate like most of the town already had.

"I don't think any of us are. Even with that thing lighting the sky every night," Steve gestured towards the glowing sky, trying to smile through dirt and muck he knew he was covered in. Their patrol had been a bit of a mess, and they might have been a bit lost, hence the taking shelter in the abandoned shack.

"No, I mean," Steve didn't think it was possible for Jonathan to sound frustrated like that, not after finally getting to know the guy, but he clearly was as he turned away from the window. "I mean from before all this. I hate it. Literally will go into a panic attack because of the dark or being closed in. And I'm telling you this because I know I'm already close to one. And I don't want to deal with that and you don't want to deal with that, so I'm letting you know." He finished off that little ramble with a shrug.

Steve frowned. It was hard for him to read Jonathan's face with the shadows growing across the room, but that ever-present stoicism plastered onto Jonathan's face and voice was undercut with a hint of growing fear. Steve looked around the room, spotting the pile he had seen of old yellow books and newspapers that had been left behind. "Okay, then we'll make it not dark anymore," he said, getting up to grab the first few pieces off the pile before walking over to the old wood stove in the corner. "Do you know how to light one of these?"

There is a hitch in Jonathan's breathing and Steve hears him move closer more than sees him, "Yes, but we need more than just that to get it going."

It took some scavenging, mainly done by Steve, to find some kindling and wood to add to the newspaper, but he looked over at Jonathan when he could, watching the soft glow of the fire that was growing light up his features as he used the lighter he always carried to help get it going. When Jonathan finally deemed it enough, Steve sat back down next to him, watching his face as Jonathan's eyes were trained on the fire before them.

There was something warm and strong in the air that didn't come from the growing heat. Something that Steve realized came from this thing between him and Jonathan. Steve couldn't pinpoint when it started, if it was new or he'd been oblivious to its existance all the way back to that day three years ago when Jonathan punched some sense into him and then saved his life causing Steve to do the same. But he knew that he definitely noticed it now that the two were stuck in such close proximity all of the time. To the point that Steve wanted to choose Jonathan as his patrol partner rather than the girls and be around him more. Have him shyly grab his hand again and maybe more.

"Is that better?" Steve congratulated himself when Jonathan didn't startle from his voice. He so easily did and was so naturally quiet.

But he didn't this time. Jonathan turned to Steve, a slight smile on his face as it glowed red in the firelight. "Yes," he quietly murmured before shifting, surprising Steve as he leaned into his side. Steve couldn't suppress his grin any longer, feeling it spread across his own face as he moved his arm around Jonathan to pull him in closer. "It's perfect."

#stonathan sundays #stonathanweek2023 #stonathan #steve harrington #jonathan byers #faith writes #i saw this prompt and thought of that piece i already wrote and decided to do more of that world #you'll see more on day 7 for forced proximity!#in which stonathan is not quite established but they are getting there #they know they are attracted to each other but with the literal apocalypse happening they are taking it slow #it doesnt help that they share a room with minimum of one if not up to five other people #when they arent bunkering down in abandoned houses and shacks that is

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judasofsuburbia · 9 months

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🔀 ask game with ronance or stonathan 🩷

this is THEEEEE RONANCE SONG!!!

New crush, high school love again The rush of slumber party kissing Don't touch, I'll never cross the line

okay so what i'm thinking is nancy is visiting robin in college in nyc. nancy's been harboring this crush for robin for quite some time now. she wants to go for it because robin and her are finally single at the same time but she's so scared!! what if she ruins their friendship!!

they're planning on going out to robin's favorite spots in the city but a huge thunderstorm ruins their plans. they were in the midst of pregaming with the first lightning bolt struck. already feeling tipsy and warm. nancy puts her lipgloss down that she was applying in the bathroom mirror when she hears robin calling her friends, asking if they're still on for tonight. they're not.

robin appears in the doorway, something between a pout and a frown on her face. "sorry nance. looks like it's just us tonight."

"that's okay," nancy rushes to say. i only came here for you, she wants to say.

"what if we did a classic sleepover? like we used to?" robin suggests.

nancy's smile widens across her lips. "i'd love that."

so they change into their pjs. pop some popcorn. put a romance movie on the tv. lounging on the couch with a bottle of pink moscato passed between them. they're giggling and being stupid. it's just like old times. only nancy is hopelessly in love with her friend now.

"your lip gloss is all over the rim," robin says as she inspects the bottle.

"sorry."

robin shrugs and takes a swig anyway. she licks her lips afterward and nancy's eyes go wide.

"flavored?" robin asks.

nancy's brain short circuits. "vanilla," she barely mumbles.

robin hums and takes another swig. "i wanna wear it," robin says. nancy's heart starts to race. that had to be hint, right?

this is her moment.

nancy scooches closer and gets her face in robin's. robin blinks owlishly at her and sets the wine down on the coffee table, not bothering to turn her head to do so.

nancy's hand is slow and cautious as she holds robin's jaw. they're both glancing at each other's lips. they've both stopped breathing.

nancy takes the plunge and kisses robin fiercely. pouring years of crushing and pining into robin's mouth. spreading her lip gloss all over her lips. robin kisses back with equal enthusiasm. nancy moans, something she wouldn't do if she was sober, or maybe she would because robin is a god damn good kisser. nancy slowly crawls into robin's lap, running her hands through robin's hair. robin's hand is going up the back of her sleep shirt, her fingers dancing on nancy's spine, causing her to gasp. their kiss to finally part.

robin licks her lips again. "i thought you were gonna just go get the lip gloss," robin confesses.

nancy backs away. "oh fuck. is that what you wanted?"

"fuck no. this is way better," robin says as she kisses her again.

send me a 🔀 and a pairing, and i’ll shuffle my playlist and make an au based on the first song that comes up

#shuffle song ask game #they!!!!!!!#ronance #ronance ficlet #ronance au

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polyamorous-eleven · 2 years

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Au where stonathan is established couple and byler are in love but they are too afraid to do anything. They think that Steve and Jonathan are the same, and they only see in public how they are getting dirty looks and people shouting slurs at them.

But then one day, Mike and Will come back to Byer’s house and see Steve and Jonathan casually lying on the couch together. Cuddled in each other side, and just from the picture, they could tell that they are in love and are happy.

So it was a hint, but they were still afraid.

Jonathan proposed to the kids to watch some movies with them and while Steve was whining, he did make some place for them. Will and Mike would sit, shoulders touching, feeling kinda awkward and hot.

And while watching the movie they would see, they would feel stonathan’s love for each other, how confident they are in their feelings and how happy they are to be with each other.

They realized that even though they still have to go through a lot in public, they are happy in their own space, when people close to them accepts them.

And this is way, boys finally decided to come out to stonathan and the part as well as to Will’s parents (because Mike’s parents are too big step yet), and after a few weeks they were officially dating <3

#byler #stonathan #mike wheeler #will byers #jonathan byers #steve harrington #steve x jonathan #mike wheeler i know what you are #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #st #I just like the idea of byler looking up to stonathan <3

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jargyles · 10 months

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stonathan - ten (give or take) years of purposefully forgetting the importance of saving phone numbers

stonathan sunday prompt by @stonathanweek | prompt: "what aren't you telling me?" | they're broken up, and it's been a while

"what aren't you telling me?"

jonathan is unamused by the way steve's smile drops from his face.

steve is quiet, arms crossed over the railing in front of jonathan's porch. it's strange, watching him close up after… everything. it's almost like watching a balloon pop; the rapid switch from full to empty, the sighing slump of his shoulders, and to jonathan, it's out of character for him.

"you come here, and you refuse to let me close the door in your face." still, jonathan insists on being told the truth. they're older now, they shouldn't be hiding hints and clues in each other's actions anymore. "you say things are 'messed up back home', whatever that means, and you-"

and still, after all these years, jonathan can't ever find it in himself to stay mad at steve, no matter the reason.

"i want to know what's up with you." jonathan's hands, which were raised and moving through each word as he talked, came back down. he crosses his arms too, eyes fixated on his porch light shining on a few strands of gray combed behind steve's ear. it hasn't been that long... has it? "can we just- talk about it?"

there was a point in time where steve was the one begging jonathan to be open, honest, vulnerable, even. as if the two of them thought of it at the same time, they both laugh shortly through their noses. jonathan runs a hand over his hair at how ridiculous this all is. the visit, the cold stare, the passive aggressiveness, the genuine joy he felt seeing steve harrington of all people at his door again. of all the things he missed about hawkins, one of them may or may not be the way steve would show up at his house whenever he wanted, unannounced, as if they had all the time in the world to be together. if they were still together, jonathan would find it romantic or spontaneous, but now he's just concerned.

steve looks back at him through a glance out of the side of his eye, and jonathan almost misses it because of his glasses. steve actually wears his glasses now, what the fuck, how long has it been. then he's shaking his head, as if he can't believe what he's about to say, as if jonathan has any grounds to judge him on.

"it's- i'm just gonna spit it out- it's the upside down again." steve is running a hand over his face, pushing his glasses out of the way, and jonathan's heart drops to the soles of his shoes. "dustin got me hooked on it, honestly, and now it's like- it's getting harder to, y'know, figure all this shit out by myself. kinda by myself, but you know what i meant."

"hooked on… what?" jonathan's eyebrows are drawn into a scowl.

"research, mostly." steve says it like it's nothing, like the very mention of that place doesn't make jonathan want to call nancy immediately. "hands-on research."

#this is part of a bigger au for a certain polyculeeee that ive always referred to as 'future au' and its so ANGSTY!#kings.txt #stonathan sunday #stonathan #steve harrington #jonathan byers #they're AGING they're FORLORN they're CHOKED UP and they WON'T ADMIT IT UNTIL THEY THRUST THEMSELVES INTO DANGER AGAIN! type beat #alt title: the one where steve wants the gang back together and jonathan wants no part in it #he's an artsy fartsy photographerrrr nowwww hes gotta go to london for a ~certain band's~ comeback tour of the uk #he doesnt WANTTTT to see steve he doesnt WANTTTT to rally up little demo-creatures across the midwest he just wants to GO TO WORK!!!!#erm anyways! stonathan 5ever

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that-ineffable-devil · 1 year

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Rainbow in the Dark | Chapter 2

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Author's Note: Chapter 2 is here to introduce our dear Steve Harrington and the angst that is his familial relationships. We also see Tommy Hagan being the eternal douche that he is, but also some lovely early Stonathan teases--teases only, I'm afraid. Steddie's endgame here, but I can't help it if our Hawkins boys have so much chemistry.

CONTENT WARNING: This chapter references Steve's familial trauma. While there are no explicit scenes of abuse, there are references to it and the effects it has on young Steve.

Chapter 2: The Unloved

Steve’s first lesson was also simple: “Harringtons don’t make mistakes.”

But, as most would agree, children learn best from making mistakes. And Steve made so many. It didn’t seem to matter how hard he tried to get it right. To Harringtons, effort didn’t matter—only results. From this, Steve learned that love was always conditional—that affection was reserved only for people who do everything right. Though he wanted nothing more than to make his parents happy, it seemed like an impossible task.

To the rest of Hawkins, Steve didn’t appear to be an unhappy child. He smiled often and was always polite. And while his parents weren’t very well-liked in the community, they were respected and very well off. They always made sure Steve was presentable—dressing him in the nicest clothes and expensive shoes. He always had the newest and best of everything. To everyone else, they were a perfect nuclear family. A perfect little family in a large, empty house.

Steve’s father was often away for work, so he didn’t see him much. When he did, it was rarely an enjoyable experience. No matter what he’d done, no matter how hard he’d tried, nothing was ever quite good enough to meet that man’s expectations. And if Steve had made a mistake during his absence? His stomach churned just thinking about it.

Richard Harrington was not a violent man—words were his weapons of choice. With the right words, he could bring anyone to heel—even his son. He chose his words carefully and used a tone laced with cold disappointment. His smiles were reserved for the rarest occasions, weaponizing them to give Steve hope that he could please his father. But Steve saw how his father’s smiles never reached his eyes, failing to mask the dispassionate malice behind his dull, dark eyes. Even Steve’s accomplishments were met with disdain—either he should have done better, or whatever he’d accomplished was not worth his efforts.

His mother wasn’t as frigid toward him as his father, but she kept a certain distance. She never interfered during Richard’s judgements—or even comforted Steve after a particularly brutal one, preferring to act as though nothing had happened. But he’d never known her to be unkind, and when they were alone, she was warm and loving—though always from a distance. So, Steve held tight to the belief that his mother, at least, loved him. While her love was still conditional, it came easier than his father’s.

There were no hugs in the Harrington household. No kisses, no tickling, no physical affection whatsoever. When he was young, he used to cry for his parents to hold him when he was scared or sad—or even just to feel them there with him. Mr. Harrington would leave the room in these moments—remarking to the room how whiny and needy “the child” was. Steve was never his child unless he was talking to potential clients. Steve wondered sometimes whether he owed his very existence to his father’s career ambitions, because the man never seemed to want or even like children beyond this utility. “But then,” he’d counter himself, “maybe he just doesn’t want me.”

School was a different story. At school, he had friends. Kids who smiled at him when he entered the room, who sat with him at lunchtime, who played with him on the playground. His best friend, Tommy Hagan, was always with him in school. They sat next to each other in homeroom, ate lunch together, and even stayed over at his house sometimes. Tommy liked to watch the other kids and crack jokes about their style, or hair, or anything really. He had so many opinions, and he wasn’t afraid to share them.

Steve was enraptured by Tommy—he was so confident when he spoke, and people would listen to what he said. When he smiled, his freckles would crinkle up into his dimples, and even teachers would give him whatever he wanted. Steve made it his mission to make Tommy laugh, too—he loved to hear that infectious hyena cackle. There was no laughter at home…except the cold, cruel huff his father gave when Steve did something particularly stupid.

And he was stupid. He knew that. His father never let him forget—and neither did his teachers. He’d tried to explain—the letters and numbers would jumble up and change as he tried to read them—but no one wanted to hear his…his excuses. They just wanted him to try harder. And he did try—every single day—but what the other kids could read in five minutes might take him forty or more. So, he knew he must be stupid if everyone else could understand the jumbled letters and he couldn’t.

But Steve wasn’t terrible at everything. While he struggled with most classwork, he absolutely excelled in sports. He was a natural, and it felt so good to let out some of his pent-up energy every day at school. After hours of mind-numbing lectures and painful assignments, getting outside or into the gym to let off steam was euphoric. He felt that if he could always be in motion, everything else would be fine. Unfortunately, even star players had to pass English literature.

Steve had a particularly brutal essay due on Friday—5 pages on Hemingway—and he hadn’t even started. The deadline loomed heavily before him, and he was beginning to panic. If he was going to pass literature and stay in sports, he needed at least a B on this essay—an insurmountable task if there ever was one.

“Hey, Tommy,” Steve began as he picked up his school things, the bell for lunch clanging loudly throughout the halls.

“Ready to go to lunch?” Tommy replied.

“Uh…you know, I’m not really hungry—and I gotta work on that lit paper.”

Tommy laughed loudly. “OK, sure—and by ‘work on that lit paper’ you mean ‘make out with a girl in the stacks,’ right?”

“…You got me,” Steve chuckled nervously, hoping he’d kept his face passive.

“Sure man, no problem—I’ll even cover for you in the next class if things go on a little too long, if you know what I mean,” Tommy winked as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed out of the room.

Steve’s mouth was dry—he didn’t like lying to his best friend, but he didn’t want Tommy to make fun of him either. Skipping lunch to do schoolwork was decidedly uncool in Tommy’s opinion. Steve grabbed his backpack and headed toward the library, hoping Tommy wouldn’t ask for details later.

The library was even quieter than usual, as most of the other students were in class or at lunch. The librarian, Mrs. Stedwell, raised an eyebrow as he entered—he wasn’t exactly a regular here. He smiled and waved politely, hoping not to draw any further attention. He detoured quickly to the left, hunting for Hemingway’s works. Squinting at the myriad book bindings, his heart leapt when he found a copy of For Whom the Bell Tolls still on the shelf. As he shot his hand out to grab the book, another hand crashed into his.

“Ow,” Steve remarked dully, hearing it echo from the owner of the other hand.

“S…sorry, are you OK?” the other voice asked timidly, though both their hands still hovered over the book binding.

Steve turned to look at the other student.

The lanky boy next to him jumped and looked down when Steve looked at him, his mouse-brown hair falling into his eyes and hand still outstretched, but now further from the book. Steve knew this kid—Byers. Jonathan Byers. Tommy liked to make jokes about how his long hair made him look like a girl, and that his clothes were always old, worn, and ill-fitting. Steve would laugh along, but he didn’t really agree. He always thought Jonathan had nice hair—certainly better than the neatly cropped and side-slicked cut his parents demanded he maintain. Jonathan’s hair looked soft—pretty, even—if Steve was honest. And yeah, his clothes were a bit worn out, but they looked comfortable—unlike the constant itch of new clothing. His parents rarely let him keep anything long enough for it to become comfortable.

Steve realized he was staring when he noticed Jonathan’s eyes jumping between the floor and his face, looking confused.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine. Are…are you all right?”

The boy nodded without raising his head, now keeping his eyes squarely on the floor—Steve wondered idly if the boy was nervous.

“You’re Jonathan Byers, right? We’re in the same homeroom.”

The mousey boy’s head jerked up, looking at Steve with wide eyes. “Y…yeah, that’s me. I was just…” Jonathan’s voice dropped suddenly off as he looked away again.

Steve’s brow furrowed as he considered the other boy. Were people scared of him? Was he scary? He certainly didn’t think so. His father was scary, but him? He didn’t even know how to be scary! And he really didn’t like the idea of anyone being scared of him. He didn’t want any more in common with his father than he already had, so he chose another option, smoothing his expression into a relaxed smile.

“Cool, I’m Steve. Steve Harrington,” he said in a friendly tone, moving his hand away from the book to extend it to the other boy.

Jonathan stared blankly at Steve’s outstretched hand for several seconds too long before grasping it in his own and shaking it.

“R…right…Um. Nice to actually meet you?”

“Yeah, you too, man! So, Byers, what brings you to this cozy corner of the library during lunch?” Steve asked with an increasingly warm smile, leaning his shoulder gently against the bookshelf. He’d hoped he looked cooler than he felt.

“O…oh, well, I haven’t finished…that essay. The one about H-Hemingway.”

Jonathan was still looking away, his voice trailing off and his body tensing as if he expected something awful from Steve. He just laughed in response—not noticing that the other boy flinched at the sound.

“Oh man, you too? That’s rough.”

Once again, Jonathan’s face snapped back to Steve’s with a surprised expression.

“You haven’t finished either?”

“Man, I haven’t even started. Honestly, I struggle with this stuff, so I’ve been putting it off…but I ha…I have to…” now it was Steve’s turn to go quiet.

His traitor of a mouth had said more than he’d intended, and he didn’t know if he wanted anyone else to know about his trouble reading. If it got back to Tommy, he didn’t know how he’d react, and he didn’t think he could survive becoming one of the boy’s targets instead of his friend.

Jonathan’s face softened, looking at Steve with less fear and more understanding.

“Yeah, I get it. Gotta keep those grades up so you can stay captain.”

Steve nodded, a nervous chuckle bubbling out of him. An awkward silence hung heavily around them, the library suddenly seeming far smaller, both boys looking at each other—or maybe through each other. After several moments had passed, they both looked down to discover they still hadn’t released the other’s hand. As though synchronized, they jumped and retracted their hands simultaneously. Steve felt his cheeks flush. Noticing the pink tint on Jonathan’s face as he looked away, Steve felt a strange, fluttering twist in his gut—maybe embarrassment? But he was accustomed to feeling embarrassed and ashamed—those feelings hurt, and this was just…odd.

Jonathan cleared his throat, looking back at his shoes.

“So…” he said softly, before taking a deep breath and looking back up at Steve—who was steadfastly eyeing books on the shelf opposite of them.

“Since we both haven’t finished our essays and we both need this book, how about we work on it together—I bet we’ll both get it done faster. What do you say, Harrington?” he said, his words coming easier than before.

It was Steve’s turn to flick his eyes back to the mousey boy, surprised by the sudden shift. His eyes darted across the boy’s face, noting the smile curling across his lips—the first one Jonathan had offered him. Steve felt his brain stutter, like all its gears had locked in place and snapped his mouth shut. That is…until Jonathan’s smile faltered, and he looked down again.

“Look, if you don’t wan…”

“No! I mean, yeah! That would be great, I’d like that,” Steve rushed out, smiling brightly, “Though I don’t know if you want my help—I might bring your average down, Byers.”

They both laughed loudly, earning an even louder “SHHH!” from Mrs. Stedwell somewhere in the library—which prompted several more seconds of uncontrollable laughter.

For the rest of the week, Steve and Jonathan met at the library during lunchtime to work on their essays together. Steve kept up the pretense with Tommy that he was meeting a girl to “make out” so Tommy would cover for him if he needed more time. Tommy didn’t seem too suspicious, though he did keep trying to get the name of the mystery girl—or girls, he’d suggested. Steve would just shrug with a smirk and say, “a true gentleman would never kiss and tell.”

On the first day, Jonathan seemed to pick up on Steve’s trouble reading through the material, so he started reading the passages to him—quietly. Steve’s heart flopped uncomfortably in his chest when Jonathan started reading aloud, unprompted. No one had ever tried to help him; they’d just make fun of him or accuse him of being lazy.

Jonathan also noticed that, once he processed the material, Steve had a deep understanding of it. His interpretations were insightful and refreshing—he just seemed to see the world differently. This was not the Steve Harrington he knew—that anyone knew. Something small, but warm unfurled in his chest, like a dragon rousing from its slumber. This was his Steve...h-his friend, Steve. A version only he got to see, and no one else.

Steve was experiencing his own revelations. He’d never met anyone like Jonathan—he was kind and understanding, he was funny without any trace of judgement or meanness, and he was just…Jonathan. He didn’t try to be anyone else. Steve had never known that was even an option—he always had to be Steve Harrington, son of Richard Harrington, heir to the Harrington misery. For the first time in his life, he could relax, feeling as though the steel strings that bound him to a cold, uncaring reality had gone slack. Still present, but loose enough that he could move toward the warmth that was Jonathan Byers, melting some of the ever-present, cruel Harrington frost.

By the end of their Friday library session, they had completed their essays and were ready to turn them in. Both boys began to slowly pack up their things, their usual chatter replaced by a solemn silence. They didn’t say it, but this felt like an ending—like the closing line of a book. After they’d both packed up, they hesitated—hands on their respective backpacks. They knew they were losing something they both needed.

“Hey…” Steve started, trying to keep his voice casual, but his eyes remained on his backpack. “If…if it’s not too much to ask, I could really use some help in Herring’s class, too.”

He felt Jonathan shift next to him, but didn’t dare to look at him, suddenly fearing rejection.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The pause stretched into a thick, smothering silence—as if the very air around them grew denser and clung to them while Steve held his breath.

“I could help with that, if you want.” Jonathan’s voice came out small, but sincere.

Steve’s lips curled into a wide smile, finally looking at Jonathan, who was sharing the same grin.

“That would be great, man! So…same time next week?”

“Yeah, sounds great!”

“Awesome—see you then!”

Both boys exited the library with matching grins, their cheeks lightly flushed at the promise of next week.

Post Notes: Seems like something may be brewing between Jonathan and Steve...but what will Tommy think? We'll find out in Chapter 4!

Chapter 3 Preview: Eddie has found his crew and is about to find his first life-long hyperfixation: Dungeons and Dragons. As his birthday approaches, he prepares for the end of the Party's longest running campaign yet--but the day of, his father, the Warden, comes home in a drunken stupor. Will Eddie lead the Party into battle with their greatest enemy only to face his own?

Thank you to all readers who have made it this far! Likes, comments, and shares are deeply appreciated! I, like Steve, am heavily motivated by praise.

Credits

Bat dividers courtesy of StrayWords.

Fic title courtesy of Rainbow in the Dark by Dio.

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xirayn · 9 months

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Stonathan Week Day 4: Fantasy AU - Jonathan's Great Aunt Darlene told him stories about their ancestors becoming ravens to guide warriors who fought as wolves, but they were just the ramblings of a mentally ill woman - right?

written by @xirayn

@aibhlynn and I do have a screenplay for an urban fantasy DnD inspired AU that can basically be summed up as 'Jonathan accidentally takes Steve as his (still human) animal companion to save his life', but I was unable to edit any of it in time, so have a ficlet

I'm on the Hunt, I'm After You

Getting driven from his pack meant a lean year. Hunting down large prey became scavenging, grabbing desperate mouthfuls from a carcass before the grizzly that had come moved in on the wolf's former territory arrives to chase him off. He trots through the brush in search of a meal. On occasion, he is quick enough to grab a rabbit or other small game, but his strength is better suited to harrying moose or holding down an elk while his pack tears into it.

The scratchy call of a raven catches his attention. The black bird peers at him from a fallen log, then swoops a bit ahead and calls again. He follows until the raven is standing atop a deer carcass at the bottom of a small drop. It's neck is twisted and some bones broken from the fall. When he tears into it, however, there are still traces of warmth in it's bowels.

The raven watches as the wolf eats his fill. Eventually, he swoops down to take his pound of flesh and the wolf keeps watch in turn.

Then, in the dreamy gold of the setting sun, the raven looks at the wolf and says, "You need me, so why haven't you come to me?"

Steve wakes up from a different reality. He feels the satisfaction of a full stomach and the safety of another watching his back. It fades as he wakes up more to be replaced with a longing he has felt his entire life. He knows what it means now.

He goes to the Byers' house the next day. Jonathan seems to be waiting for him.

"I had a weird dream last night," he starts awkwardly.

Jonathan nods in understanding and steps outside, closing the door behind him. For a moment, they don't do more than look at one another.

"Me too," Jonathan finally says. His eyes go to the woods. "My great aunt use to tell me stories from 'the old country'." He laughs softly. "I never actually learned where that was. They were basically rambling tales about us being descended from druids or some nonsense. Our ancestors would become ravens to guide warriors who fought as wolves. She said it was a deep bond that kept the warriors from losing their humanity."

Steve swallows. Something deep inside of him similar to instinct knew it wasn't nonsense.

"Did she say anything else about it?" he asks. He isn't surprised when Jonathan shakes his head.

"Dad didn't like us visiting her and Mom tried to keep her from sounding too crazy. I was pretty young, too. Will doesn't remember her at all."

Jonathan steps closer. His head is bowed slightly is the way he does to make himself seem small and non-threatening. It irritates Steve, and for the first time he realizes that feeling isn't directed at Jonathan, it is directed at everyone who has ever made Jonathan felt he needed to be less.

Steve reaches out. He tucks some hair behind Jonathan's ear and moves forward. A deep bond. It formed the night he went back and saved Jonathan from the demogorgon, when Steve picked up the weapon made by Jonathan's hand. He answered the call of the raven and made himself the wolf, if that hadn't been what he was all along.

Steve ducks his head to catch try and catch Jonathan's eye.

"I need you," he states, "so I came to you."

Jonathan's gaze meets his suddenly. He searches for any hint of uncertainty only to close the distance between them when he doesn't find it.

The embrace and kiss that follows embeds the bond impossibly deep in their psyches.

That night, the wolf runs through a field of wildflowers. There are howls in the distance, young wolves looking for a protector, but he doesn't hurry to reach them. For now, his raven is all the company he needs.

#stonathan #stonathanweek2023 #steve harrington #jonathan byers

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