#this is probably my favorite thing i made for stonathan week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

katnissgirlsmakedo · 3 years

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wait i meant to ask u this a while ago but plz elaborate on ur el hopper/ill give you the sun au i need to know

for everyone that wasn’t there 💜

sorry this is long as fuck (I.... have so many thoughts in this head) so it’s under the cut (and obviously if you’re concerned about like, spoilers for this book maybe don’t read this... idk if anyone’s planning on reading it or whatever but yeah)

also I know that probably a lot of people have not read I’ll give you the sun so here’s a quick rundown if y’all care: the protagonists are noah and jude, they’re twins and they each narrate half the book, the story revolves around their mother and her death (it’s really all about coming of age in the midst of tragedy- which is just very stranger things to me), and they each have their own story and relationships with other people that ultimately lead them back to each other (because it’s about family and found family and fate and how sometimes people are just meant to be in each other’s lives). if you can’t tell from the way I’m talking about it, this is one of my favorite books <3

ok so basically, el is jude and will is noah (duh), and they’re pretty much the focus of the whole thing- I never quite worked out how most of the other st characters fit in. I’d assume mike would be brian, but because I literally refer to this as being like, an el specific thing, and el is jude, you’ve probably gathered that I’m not too focused on noah’s section of the book (where brian is) lol. anyways, their parents can go two ways: either terry ives is their mother who dies (mourning her is what jude’s storyline is all about so this makes sense), or joyce is (this also makes sense if you’re more focused on her relationship with will). and hopper is their dad in both versions! I prefer terry being their mom but sometimes I think about it as joyce because I’m indecisive.

which brings me to the other characters in jude’s story: guillermo and oscar. since guillermo is like a parental figure to jude, i think that would be joyce (also obsessed with how this implies that joyce and terry were having an affair jacjwjskmsjej). and because oscar is you know, oscar, I cannot imagine anyone but steve in that role. I know what you’re thinking, “isn’t oscar jude’s love interest?” well let me tell you the great news! it’s my au and I get to make the rules 💜 and in my version, steve is oscar and does all the things oscar does with noah, and eventually falls in with guillermo (joyce), but it splits after that. in my version, she already has a son (jonathan duh), and because I’m a Stonathan Stan™, they’re dating <3 and steve’s younger sister (max) also lives with them. so max takes over the love interest parts of oscar’s character

so it’s like this: el’s mother, terry, dies and she’s left with her father, hopper, and her twin brother, will, she gets into art school and eventually that leads her to the renowned yet eccentric sculptor joyce byers, and her family (her son jonathan, his boyfriend steve, and steve’s sister max). shenanigans ensue, el falls in love with max, she fixes her family after her mother’s death, and she learns how to become herself and live her life instead of letting her grief define her 💜💜

another little detail I love about el as jude is jude’s relationship with fashion, like just how she was obsessed with making the dresses that she never wore, and eleven in st3 starts using her clothes as a form of self expression and that’s an important part of her finding herself as an individual, and I think that connection is really cool

also a few weeks ago when I was really obsessed with this dumb little au, I made a few edits of el and will with random quotes from this book (idk if anyone remembers the shit I post but I did post one of the party with the “we were all headed for each other on a collision course no matter what” quote) and they’ve just been chilling in my drafts because I didn’t think anyone would like, get it if I posted them? anyway I might now, we’ll see

but fr imagine el doing all the weird shit jude does in that book.... like, talking to ghosts (in public) that only exist to her, calling google “the oracle” and stalking her brothers ex online, just carrying an onion around in her pocket for luck.... iconic truly iconic

anyway I’ll leave you with this dumb little meme I made for myself <3

#i have. SO MUCH shit to say... feel free to ignore.. this whole post is like 45% embarassing and i don't need to be percieved <3 #asks #anonymous #igyts #el hopper

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myspookysunshine · 6 years

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Moonlight Drive 1/1

Summary : It’s Steve’s birthday. What should be a celebration turns into hell, then recovery, then something approximating Jonathan’s idea of heaven.

Pairing : Steve Harrington/Jonathan Byers (pre-slash)

Rating : Teen

Warnings : Hurt/comfort, blood, injury, aftermath of a fight, language, not being at all nice to Billy Hargrove

Reposted on AO3 as dustyirish

Author’s notes : Written for Stonathan Week - badly written, I’m afraid to say. This is the sappiest mess I’ve ever ended up with, and that’s saying something, but this is (no exaggeration) the SIXTH version of Stonathan birthday fics I have started over the last three days, and the only one I was able to completely finish in time. I have no damned idea what to do with the other five. I’m lucky I can still see straight at this point. Anyway, bless you if you take time to read.

Come on, baby, gonna take a little ride Down, down by the ocean side Gonna get real close Get real tight Baby, gonna drown tonight

~ The Doors

Jonathan drove towards Linda Shane's house. He didn't know who the hell Linda Shane was, or how Steve knew her, or why she had been chosen to host his birthday bash. But Steve had invited him, and that meant that Jonathan had to make the effort to show up, even if he would most likely park in the woods across from the house, debating with himself for half an hour or so before promptly returning home.

He looked down, fiddling with the radio dial, then glanced back up only to see a blood-covered Steve Harrington standing in the middle of the road, waving his arms wildly over his head.

Jonathan slammed on the brakes, screeching to a stop about two feet in front of him. His heart was threatening to pound out of his chest as Steve ran to the passenger door, wrenched it open and flopped inside.

"Step on it, Byers!" he was screaming, even before the door was closed. "Go go go!!"

Jonathan stomped the accelerator and obeyed, hands shaking on the wheel.

He drove like a madman for a couple of miles until they hit the edge of town, then dropped to a safer speed, finally daring to take his attention off of the road long enough to look at Steve. His stomach sank. When he had first spotted Steve in front of the car he had thought - if he had time to think anything - that Steve had maybe done something to someone and needed to escape. It was clear now, that whatever had taken place, it had all been done to Steve.

His face was a bloody mess of scrapes and cuts, his nose was bleeding freely down the front of his shirt, there was even a horizontal gash across his neck that looked so much like an attempted throat-slashing that Jonathan had to choke back bile.

"Jesus! What happened?!"

"Fucking Hargrove happened!"

"Are you all right?" It was an idiotic question, but Jonathan was still in shock from nearly turning the man he secretly loved into roadkill.

"I wouldn't go that far," Steve muttered, and lay his head back against the seat, groaning.

Jonathan reached a hand out, not retracting it even when it landed on Steve's thigh. He was too worried to stick to his usual avoidance plan. "Do you need the E.R.?"

"No, it was only six or seven punches as opposed to the usual dozen."

Fury swept through Jonathan, rapid and intense, and he jerked the steering wheel hard to the left.

Steve shot back up in his seat, "Where are you going?!"

"Back there to kick Hargrove's ass," he growled. "He's not going to keep doing this shit to you!"

Steve was staring at him, open-mouthed. "Fuck, Byers, that was unexpected. And almost disturbingly hot." He lay a hand on Jonathan's arm and gave him a gentle pat. "Turn back around, man. It is so not worth it. Besides, he'll already have bailed. He got what he came for."

Jonathan knew Steve was right, but he also knew he himself had meant what he said. It was going to stop, one way or another. He sighed and made another U-turn, this time at normal speed.

After another minute Steve reached around, groaning, and plucked something off of the back seat. "Can I use this?" he asked in a strange, muffled voice.

Jonathan looked over. "If you don't mind smelling like wet dog. It's Chester's blanket."

Steve pulled it into his lap, ducked his head, and spit a mouthful of blood into the cloth. "Sorry. Don't want to swallow it or I'll wind up puking, and we don't need to add that to the festivities."

Jonathan was sure the concern was plain on his face.

Steve tried to smile and it was ghastly. "Tell Chester I'll wash it before I give it back."

Jonathan pulled off the road into a gas station parking lot. "I'll be right back," he told Steve. "Just take it easy."

He was in the store for five minutes, gathering paper towels and water and a bag of frozen peas in lieu of an ice pack.

When he got back outside, he found Steve leaning out of the car, spitting more blood onto the pavement.

He climbed into in the driver's seat, flipped on the dome light and lined up his purchases on the dash, waiting for Steve to finish. Once he'd settled, Jonathan passed him a wad of paper towels for his nose and got to work.

"I'll try not to hurt you any more than I have to." He reached out and brushed back the side of Steve's hair, exposing his cheek. "There's a pretty bad cut along here." He gently cleaned the blood away as well as he could manage with a bottle of Evian and a swatch of Bounty.

Steve winced at the touch. "Fucker's ring probably caught me."

Jonathan worked silently, trying to tamp down the rage he was feeling. It wasn't going to help the situation any at the moment. Right now he needed to focus on tending to Steve, making sure he wasn't more injured than he'd let on. He gently turned Steve's head so he could start on the other side.

Steve met his eyes and grinned. "Would you really kick his ass for me, Byers?"

"I kicked yours, didn't I? And I didn't even get any pleasure out of that. With him it would be nothing but." His eye landed on the neck wound again and he brushed his thumb over it, careful not to press too hard. "Just tell me that wasn't a knife," he grated out.

"What?" Steve looked down, startled at Jonathan's tone. "God no. I don't know what did that; I remember slamming against a table at one point. Hargrove doesn't want to actually kill me - that'd be like taking away his favorite chew toy."

Steve's eyes darkened suddenly and he startled the hell out of Jonathan by screaming "Goddammit!!!" at the roof, pounding both fists on the seat and drumming his heels on the floorboard. It reminded Jonathan of the tantrums Will used to throw when he was two and denied extra pudding.

"Stop that!"

"I'm fucking pissed! I'm sick and fucking tired of that asshole jumping me around every corner!"

"You're also bleeding all over my seat and hurting yourself more!" Jonathan yelled back, then lay his hand on Steve's shoulder, voice softening. "We'll figure it out. Just please let me take care of you." He'd meant to say 'take care of this', honest to Christ he had, and he blushed scarlet at the realization of what had come out of his mouth.

Steve was still silently fuming, and if he had heard the slip-up he didn't give any indication.

Jonathan mopped up the left side of Steve's face and went to work on his neck, having to dodge around Steve's Polo shirt to reach the errant streaks of blood.

"This thing's had it anyway," Steve grumbled, pulled the shirt over his head and, in a final fit of pique, tossed it out the window into the parking lot.

Jonathan tried not to react audibly to the suddenly bare chest next to him, but he couldn't stop himself from admiring as he wiped the cloth over skin. Admiration, however, turned to more worry - and a re-firing of anger - as he noticed the smattering of darkening knuckle marks along Steve's side. "You're already bruising." He lightly touched an area on Steve's rib cage with a finger, then quickly pulled back.

"Yeah. It'll be really spectacular tomorrow." Steve spit one last time into a paper towel and made a face. "Is there any water left?"

Jonathan pulled a Pepsi out of the bag and handed it over.

Steve sighed happily. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Jonathan froze. Of course it was a joke; with Steve Harrington it could hardly be anything else. But Jonathan's imagination had always been too rampant for his own good, and at the sound of those words it threatened to lead him places he had no business going. He put the remainders of the clean-up items back into the bag, trying to compose himself. "I'm all finished," he finally said, voice only a little shaky.

Steve rolled his head to look at Jonathan. "Take me somewhere, Byers."

"You mean the hospital?"

Steve snorted. "No, not the hospital. Take me somewhere you'd take me on our first date."

Jonathan blinked. "Do you have a concussion?"

"No, I don't have a concussion. It's my goddamn birthday, and I want to get a surprise that isn't Billy Hargrove's fist." His voice softened, almost murmuring. "So take me somewhere special. Special to you."

Jonathan's mouth went dry. "Okay?" It came out more as a croak, but Steve just plopped the bag of frozen peas onto his forehead, whimpered slightly, closed his eyes and didn't seem to notice.

Jonathan sneaked peeks at him the entire drive to the pond. The way his hair curled around the shell of his ear; his bare chest rising and falling with each breath; the long line of his body as he sprawled in the seat. Jonathan ached to take Steve's picture.

He ached for a lot of things.

He sighed as he pulled up to their destination. He reached out with a hand to touch Steve's shoulder, then snatched it back, afraid to touch, not trusting himself at that moment. He settled for a low "Hey. We're here."

Steve's eyes fluttered open. "Awesome. Where's 'here'?"

Jonathan shrugged. "It doesn't really have a name. There's just the pond and some grassland."

"Why this place? What do you like about it?" Steve sounded genuinely curious.

"In the daytime, the sunlight flares off of the water in these incredible arcs; it's great for photography. And this is the best place for the sky at night. There's no city lights to dim the stars." Jonathan realized how utterly boring that must sound to someone like Steve. "I'm sure this isn't what you'd call 'special'."

"No, I'd say this is just about perfect," Steve rebutted, looking out the window. "Is this a strictly-from-the-vehicle viewing spot, or can we get out?"

Jonathan smiled. "We can get out. It's hard to see stars through the roof."

Steve hoisted himself from the car, slowly and painfully, and Jonathan followed, grabbing something from the backseat before shutting the door.

They were about a third of the way into the field when Steve spoke. "Hey, so I thought this was a date. Aren't you even gonna hold my hand?"

Jonathan had no idea if he was kidding or not, and before he could figure it out Steve decided things for him, grabbing hold and lacing his fingers with Jonathan's.

"You okay?"

Jonathan realized he had stopped dead in his tracks. "I ... yeah. Fine." He resumed walking, but his entire focus was on the warmth of Steve's skin against his palm.

"Here good?" Steve asked, and Jonathan saw they had somehow arrived at the edge of the pond.

He nodded and Steve plopped into the grass, letting go of Jonathan's hand. He missed the touch immediately. He sat a couple of feet from Steve, took a steadying breath, and handed over the photo album tucked under his right arm.

Steve squinted down at it. "What's this?"

"A present." The moonlight was bright enough that Steve should be able to see with no problem. Jonathan, however, almost hoped that it would prove too dark. This could go very badly. He had spent months taking the pictures and arranging them, but he hadn't decided whether or not to actually give the album to Steve until the moment he stepped from the car. He could only pray that his instincts were right.

Jonathan wasn't worried about the photos of Steve with the kids. He absolutely loved the one with Dustin. He had caught Steve coming up behind him, tackling and lifting him in a bear hug, growling something against the top of Dustin's head, and Steve's face was a complicated and beautiful dichotomy of 'God, this kid drives me batshit insane and I would lay down and die to protect him'. Jonathan honestly and with no bias thought it was the best photograph he had ever taken.

The ones that concerned him were the more candid shots; Steve sitting by the pool, the sunlight bouncing in his hair; Steve hiding a laugh behind his hand; Steve catching a nap on a bench outside of school. Photos that left absolutely no doubt as to Jonathan's feelings. He had handed Steve his heart right along with the album and all he could do was wait to see if it would be broken.

Steve flipped through the book silently, eyes widening a little more with every page. He finally closed it and turned. "Jesus, Jonathan. That's ..."

Jonathan cringed internally. "Creepy."

"I was going to say 'fucking amazing'. When did you take all of these?"

"Just ... whenever."

Steve picked Jonathan's hand back up and squeezed. "You're really good. Like professional-level good. I can't wait to get these into the light and look at them." Steve's fingers twined with his easily, and god help him, it was starting to feel like they belonged there. "This is seriously the best present I got this year. Maybe any year. I mean it."

Shockingly, Jonathan believed him.

Steve moved his head and winced. "Shit, everything on me hurts. Are you gonna freak if I lay in your lap?"

Jonathan swallowed, his heart racing. "Probably. But you can do it anyway."

Steve stretched out on the grass, head nestled on Jonathan's thigh.

Jonathan's hand automatically migrated towards Steve's hair, fingers wanting to feather through the strands. This time, he found the courage to let them.

Steve was looking up at the stars. He sighed contentedly. "You're right, Byers. Great view."

Jonathan was looking down at Steve, and, cuts and bruises or not, he couldn't agree more. "Happy birthday."

"You know, I think it's actually getting there," Steve said and smiled.

#stonathanweek2017 #stonathan #stranger things fic #hurt/comfort #blood #fighting

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assholemurphy · 6 years

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Unlost

Also on AO3

Stranger Things/Harry Potter

Steve/Jonathan

Summary: Rebellious Gryffindor Steve Harrington sets out to prank Filch, but quickly finds himself lost in Hogwarts in the middle of the night, cue the Room of Requirement coming to his rescue. Inside he finds Jonathan Byers, a Hufflepuff with a serious attitude problem, developing photos from a muggle camera. Steve is confused as to why anyone would want anything to do with muggle technology and accidentally offends Jonathan by saying so, which is the last thing he wants, because Jonathan's pretty and Steve wants a chance with him, but his reputation may get in the way, and unless he's willing to try harder, Jonathan wants nothing to do with him.

Written for Stonathan Week 2017 - Prompt: Stranger Fusion

Rating: General

Word Count: 3567

Warnings: None

It was late and Steve was prowling around the castle, looking to prank Filch or something equally as childish and stupid. He knew he’d get away with it, Peeves would gladly take the blame just to watch McGonagall’s head explode when she found out. They had an odd friendship, he and Peeves, born out of mutual boredom and a desire to watch authority figures in distress. It wasn’t malicious in intent, more mischievous than anything. His most recent act of rebellion was to transfigure Snape’s cup to turn into a live hamster whenever he poured liquid in it. Sure, it was probably cruel to the hamster to be bathed in pumpkin juice so many times in a day, but it was hilarious to watch Snape yank his fingers away as if he’d been bitten, and judging by the bandages he wore the last time Steve had Potions, that was exactly what had happened. It had taken all of his self control not to burst out laughing, but because of it, he’d added too much eye of newt to his potion and caused a minor explosion that had singed his partner’s hair and left him with no eyebrows. Needless to say, he’d needed a new partner, so he’d gotten stuck with Nancy Wheeler, a Ravenclaw who’d managed to skip a year of potions and thus, was Snape’s favorite student, much to her displeasure.

Maybe Snape had thought that if he put them together, they’d balance out, but he’d spent the whole time doing his best to impress her with tales of his glory and she, in return, told him of the horror stories she had of working with Snape after classes. He was rude to everyone but her, but his praise made her want to gag. Steve couldn’t blame her, he was greasy and old, and everyone suspected he was really a Death Eater in disguise. Steve could confirm it, too, he’d seen the tattoo, but he’d kept that to himself, thinking it’d be better blackmail than gossip. He wondered if Dumbledore knew, but he reckoned he did. Something about the Headmaster didn’t sit right with Steve. It was like he was always planning something, always keeping secrets and telling you exactly what you asked to know and not a bit more, leading you to believe you could trust him, when in reality he was more than willing to let you fall to save himself. Or maybe it was just Steve’s aversion to authority talking.

But even with all his pranks, Steve was missing something. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, as he had everything he could want, save for parents that cared, but he’d convinced himself he was over caring about that, at least, for the most part. He felt an emptiness, and he couldn’t quite fill it with anything. He had friends, sure, they weren’t the greatest, but they kept him from being lonely, and he had girls, anyone he wanted, even if they weren’t quite what he wanted. He liked them, sure, but he’d noticed himself noticing the guys, as well, which wasn’t as big of a revelation as it should have been. Steve took it in stride, like he did everything, and didn’t let it shake him. Nothing could shake him, nobody could get to him, and that was how he liked it. Or so he’d convinced himself.

But dwelling on things he couldn’t, or really, wasn’t willing to change wouldn’t help anything. He had to look for that stupid cat. If he found the cat, he could put the bell on it and keep it from chasing away the rats, which would annoy Filch, but if he didn’t know it was a bell, if he thought it was, say, a bow, then he’d never take it off. He’d even handwritten a note to attach to the collar for when Filch noticed it. Nothing special, a simple ‘I think you’re purrfect. From your secret admirer.’ Not his best work, but he figured it would do well enough. Filch wasn’t going to criticize the lack of originality.

Steve finally found Mrs. Norris in the fourth hallway he checked. He did his best to sneak up on her, but she noticed him when he was less than a foot away and jumped away from his outstretched hands.

“Come on, kitty, I’ve got a gift for you. It’s pretty and pink and you’ll love it!” Steve whined, chasing after the cat.

He tried to keep track of where he was going, but they took one too many turns and he found himself in an area of the castle he’d never been in before, at least, not in the dark, because everything looked different in the dark, and the castle was huge, so he could have been anywhere. So, he did the only thing he could. He turned around and began to wander through the castle, trying to remember the steps he’d taken to get where he was, but it was to no avail. He looked for some kind of marker, a statue or a painting, anything that looked familiar, but he couldn’t find anything. He finally found a hallway safe from the prying eyes of the portraits that he swore were laughing at him and sagged against the wall, frustrated and tired. He carded his fingers through his hair and let out a quiet huff, glaring at the wall across from him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to find his way back on his own. He’d could wander all night and still be lost.

Slowly, the wall in front of him began to change, taking the shape of a door. He couldn’t quite believe it. He knew the castle was magic, but randomly appearing doors? What the hell was that about? He knew he’d read something about this in one of the textbooks he’d actually bothered to open this year. Right! The Room of Requirement, that must be what this was. Maybe inside he’d find a map or a bed or something that would allow him to get some sleep tonight, be it here or back in his own bed in the Gryffindor dorms.

He opened the door slowly, unsure of what he may find, and was greeted by a soft red light and a room full of dark shadows, creating what was arguable the creepiest room he’d been in in the castle. He shrugged and stepped inside, following the light to its source, finding a figure standing before a table with white tubs on it. “Hey?”

The figure jumped, turning around to look at him, “Hello? Is someone else in here?”

It was too dark to make out his features from where Steve stood, he’d have to get closer to really see him, but he was shorter than him, not by much, and smaller, but his voice was what Steve fixated one. It was rough, calming, and gentle, his words hesitant like he was thinking them over before saying them. It instantly put Steve at ease in the dark room, which was more than could be said for the other boy, who had tensed up once he’d heard Steve in the room.

“Yeah, uh, I’m here. What is this place?” Steve asked, walking forward and getting hit in the face with a string that seemed to come from nowhere. He looked around and noticed several other strings, some with papers hanging off them. “What are you doing in here?”

“Shouldn’t that be my line?” The boy questioned, wary. “It’s a dark room set up by the Room of Requirement. I’m developing photos.”

“Couldn’t you just take them to Hogsmeade and get them developed?” Steve moved the string out of the way and started forward again, coming to a stop next to the boy.

“They aren’t- No, no, I can’t. Who are you, anyway?”

“I’m Steve Harrington. You are?” From here he could make out his features, they were angular and sharp, he looked tired, not like he hadn’t slept, but like the world was exhausting to him, and Steve wondered exactly who he was and what made him so wary. Overall, from what he could see, he was cute, cuter than any other guy Steve had seen at the castle, and he thought he knew everyone. Immediately, Steve felt the need to impress him, like he did every pretty person, but something told him he wasn’t going to fall for his tricks so easily. That was fine, Steve liked a challenge, and he was pretty sure the boy would be worth it.

“Jonathan Byers. How’d you get here?” He replied, an edge to his voice like something Steve had said was wrong. He turned back to what he was doing, no longer looking at Steve.

Steve shrugged and leaned against the table, “I was chasing a cat and then this door popped up.”

“The Room only appears when you need it, so, do you need to develop some photos?” Jonathan asked, looking over at him as he used a pair of tongs to shake a piece of paper in the tub.

“No. Maybe it thought I needed you,” Steve flirted, smirking.

“That’s ridiculous. Maybe it was a fluke,” Jonathan reasoned, paying no attention to Steve’s flirting. He sounded puzzled.

“Or maybe you need me,” Steve offered. Either way, he needed something in the room, but he didn’t think it was going to help him get back to his dorm any time soon. Not that he was going to complain. He got to spend the night with a pretty boy, that would make up for lack of sleep.

“I need to finish developing my photos, so if you could move, that’d be helpful,” Jonathan told him, holding up a piece of paper with the tongs.

Steve moved out of the way and watched as Jonathan dipped the paper into another tub of foul smelling chemicals and he wondered how he hadn’t died from the fumes yet. Steve had only been in here a few minutes but the fumes were already making his head hurt. Still, he wasn’t going to leave just yet. He didn’t know what his goal for staying was, but maybe if he stayed long enough, he could get Jonathan to go out with him. That would be nice. He hadn’t been out with many of the guys from Hogwarts, as they didn’t really flock to him as easily as the girls, but Steve was willing to put forth more effort for Jonathan.

Steve watched as the photos developed their color before Jonathan hung them on the line. “Why aren’t they moving?”

“It’s a muggle camera,” Jonathan explained.

“Why would you want one of those?” Steve wrinkled his nose in disgust. Who would want a muggle camera when wizarding ones were so much better?

“It was a gift from my mother,” Jonathan shrugged. “I like it.”

“But they don’t move,” Steve frowned, poking at one of the photos on the line.

“Don’t touch it! And they aren’t supposed to.”

Steve pulled his hand back, “What’s the fun in that. It’s so boring.”

“Look, if all you’re going to do is insult my work, then you can get out,” Jonathan snapped.

Steve held up his hands, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to insult you. I just don’t get it. Maybe you could explain it to me?”

“Why would I do that, Harrington?” Well, alright, Steve could understand his anger. He had been kind of a dick about the camera. Still, he didn’t have to be so rude.

“Someone’s pissy. Look, I want to understand, okay, tell me. I’m all ears, Jonny boy.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll make you a deal. Explain to me why you like the muggle camera, I’ll won’t call you that.”

Jonathan sighed, annoyed, “Or I could just fucking hex you and be done with it.”

“Oh, but that wouldn’t be much fun. I’m much more fun when not hexed.”

“I’d find it hilarious. Especially if you started spewing toads instead of bullshit.”

“You’re so mean to me. You’re a Slytherin, aren’t you? Always so full of yourselves. I’m just trying to-”

Jonathan cut him off, “Flirt. You’re trying to flirt with me, and I don’t appreciate being toyed with. And for your information, I’m a Hufflepuff.”

“Hufflepuffs aren’t usually this rude.”

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint.”

Steve smirked, threading the collar between his fingers, “I think you like my flirting.”

“I assure you, I don’t.”

“Then make me leave,” Steve told him, feeling triumphant.

Jonathan looked at him for a moment before sighing, “Honestly, what do you want from me, Harrington?”

“Well, for starters, I’d like to take you out when we go to Hogsmeade next week. Then, I’d like to know why you like this muggle stuff so much. And maybe a kiss, if I’m lucky,” Steve said, doing his best to be charming.

“Please, even if you drank Liquid Luck, I wouldn’t kiss you,” Jonathan huffed, putting more papers in the tub.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Why? Because everyone falls at your feet, ready to do whatever you say? Because you’ve never been told ‘no’ before and don’t know how to take it? Or is it because you expect me to be so overwhelmed by the fact that you’re talking to me that I’ll completely lose all self-respect?”

Steve was taken aback. He wasn’t used to being talked to like that. People usually liked him, liked his flirting. “Have I done something wrong?”

“You’re acting like a jackass,” Jonathan informed him, matter-of-factly.

“Because I’m flirting with you?”

“Because you’re toying with me.”

“I’m not.”

“You really expect me to believe you’re actually interested in me? Please, I’m not that stupid.”

“I am and I do. Why’s it so hard to believe? I think you’re pretty, and you’ve got quite the personality, don’t you? I mean, sure, you’re a bit of a prick, but I’m cool with that.” Steve had dated worse people. Not that Jonathan was even close to that, he just seemed a bit defensive, that was all, and they could get past that.

“You actually want to go out with me?” Jonathan asked with a sigh, not quite believing he was having this conversation.

“Yes. And I’ll prove it to you, anything you want me to do, I’ll do it,” Steve offered.

“I want you to shut up.”

“I shut up and you’ll go out with me?”

“No. But if you shut up I won’t turn you into a teacup.”

“Why are you so rude?” Steve whined.

“Because I don’t like you.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“I know your reputation.”

Steve was offended. “And so you’re going to judge me based on a few rumors?”

“Yes,” was the simple reply, and Steve wasn’t sure why he expected anything less. He did have quite the reputation, and most of it was true. He dated people often, a new person each week, just because they bored him, and he was quite the rebellious person, getting into trouble more often than almost anyone else, which cost Gryffindor a lot of points, and he supposed they’d hate him if he wasn’t so likable.

Steve fell silent, unsure what else to say until Jonathan flicked on the light with no warning. “God! The fuck?”

“Sorry.” But he didn’t sound sorry at all.

“It’s cool. Nice art.” But Steve wasn’t looking at the photos, he was staring at Jonathan, taking in his features in the light. The shadows had made his features look sharper, but now Steve could see there was a softness to him, a kindness that he didn’t want to expose. His robes were rumpled like he’d slept in them, which was probably the reason for the couch in the corner furthest from the chemicals, and his hair was a mess, but Steve found it endearing. He moved without thinking, reaching out to straighten it a bit, Jonathan blinking at him.

“Excuse me?” Jonathan squeaked out, sounding more startled than offended.

Steve jerked his hand back, “Sorry. I just-”

Jonathan huffed, “It’s fine, just don’t touch me again. Why are you still here?”

“Truthfully? I kinda don’t know how to get back to my dorm,” Steve told him with a grimace. He hated how pathetic that sounded. Who got lost in Hogwarts in the middle of the night? It wouldn’t have happened if he had just gone to bed like he was supposed to. Or if that damn cat would have held still for a few more seconds. It was both of their faults, really.

Jonathan nodded and began taking down the now dry photos. “I’ll show you the way back. You’re close to the kitchen now, somewhere between it and the library.”

“I’m not even sure how to get to the library during the day,” Steve admitted.

“I’ll show you.” Jonathan sighed and tucked the photos into his bag.

Jonathan lead Steve down the hallways in silence, Steve fiddling with the collar he never got to put on the cat, the bell ringing softly.

Noticing the noise, Jonathan asked, “What is that?”

“A present for Filch.” Steve held it out and Jonathan took it, looking it over before reading the note and scoffing.

“This is why I don’t like you. You’re a needlessly cruel jackass.”

“What? It’s just a collar.”

“It’s a trick, I don’t know what you did to it, but it’s nothing good. And the note is cruel,” Jonathan told him, handing it back in disgust.

“I thought it was a nice touch,” Steve said, a little hurt. He thought it would be funny.

“Yeah, you would, because you don’t see the problem with toying with other people’s feelings for your own entertainment,” Jonathan snapped, turning around. “You should be able to find your way from here.”

“Stop,” Steve reached out, grabbing Jonathan’s arm only to have it jerked away.

“What?” Jonathan hissed.

“Give me a chance? If you don’t want me to fuck with Filch anymore, then I won’t, okay? You’re right, it was a dick move, and I have no excuse for it.” Steve knew he was right, he didn’t know why Jonathan cared, it didn’t affect him, but he wanted to make him stop looking at him like he was a disappointment. He didn’t know what made Jonathan so special or why his opinion mattered so damn much, but it did. Jonathan was rude and antisocial and yet, Steve wanted to befriend him. He liked him, a lot, and if he had to change himself to make Jonathan happy, he would. It wasn’t like he really liked the person he was now, anyway. “I’ll do better. Give me a chance, okay?”

“I’m not going to fix you.” Steve wasn’t Jonathan’s responsibility and he wasn’t going to baby him and help him understand the error of his ways, that was for Steve to do on his own.

“I’m not asking you to. I’ll fix myself, I just- I don’t know why I like you, but I do, and I want to be better, but no one’s ever called me on my shit before.” No one had ever cared to.

Jonathan considered it for a moment before asking, “What do you want from me?”

“Just one date.” Steve held up a finger. “One date before you judge me.”

“I’m not going to date you until you’ve got your shit together.”

“The hang out with me. We don’t have to be alone, either. I’m studying with Nancy Wheeler tomorrow, in the library, if I can find it. Come study with us. It’s obvious you could use some friends, too. I mean, you sleep in a dark room. It’s not healthy to be so antisocial,” Steve rambled on.

Jonathan sputtered, offended even though Steve was right, “I didn’t ask-”

“Just come, okay?”

Jonathan sighed “No flirting?”

“I’ll be on my best behavior,” Steve promised.

“I’m sure that’s not saying much.”

“Jonathan-”

“What time?” Jonathan asked, giving in. He may as well. Worst case scenario, he didn’t like them and left. Maybe it would be nice to make some friends.

Steve smiled, “After dinner, we’re leaving from the Hall.”

“Fine. I’ll meet you in the library,” Jonathan told him, getting ready to leave again.

“Or you could meet us after dinner and we could walk together, since we’ll be there anyways,” Steve suggested. Why not go all at once, since they had to eat beforehand.

“I don’t eat in the Great Hall. I get food from the kitchen,” Jonathan explained with a shrug.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m antisocial. Mind your own business, Harrington.”

“I still think you should have been a Slytherin, you’ve got the attitude down. But who am I to question the Hat?”

“Just go to bed.”

Steve gave him one last smile before he walked away, calling after him, “Night, Jonathan.”

As Steve watched his retreating form, he realized the Room had been right in appearing to him. The Room of Requirement gave people what they needed most, and Steve supposed that was Hogwarts’s way of telling him he needed Jonathan, and truthfully? He didn’t disagree. Maybe it would be for the better to have someone who would call him on his shit and give him a reason to try harder. And he would try harder. Something told him Jonathan would be worth changing for, and even if they didn’t work out, Steve would be better for it, and he owed that to himself.

#stonathanweek2017 #stonathan #stonathan fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #jonathan byers #steve harrington #hogwarts au #hogwarts crossover #i did it #i wrote a crossover #i am ashamed #tbh it would have just been an au but i couldn't think of characters for the roles of professors and such #so i just used the established ones #but i do have an idea for a sequel to this is anyone is interested #i might write that eventually #my fics #stonathan fic #stranger things fic

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