#been preoccupied with Jonathan

[miwiromantics]

OH CHARLIE YOU BEAUTIFUL MAN,,,, OH THANKGAWD THANKIEW THANKIEW LORD OHMAIGAWD CHARLIE CHARLIE YOU BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL MAN

[the-witty-pen-name]

The Love Triangle from Hell (1)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Nancy is with Jonathan; Steve is still in love with Nancy; You're in love with Steve; Eddie's in love with you; Robin just wanted to have a movie night but everyone is making it weird.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; drinking; Robin literally just trying to live her life but her friends are all idiots

A/N: I'm going to let y'all decide who our reader ends up with for this one- please let me know who you think our reader should pick! I think this will be another 5 part series. Please let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs and hitting up my asks are always so so so appreciated.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

It was always Nancy. No matter what it always came back to Nancy. It happened over and over and over like a broken record. Like a glutton for punishment, you always went back for more thinking to yourself this time it’s going to be different. Squished on the lumpy loveseat with Robin, you watch Steve as he watches Nancy. You were pathetic and you knew it. Hopelessly in love with someone who’d never in a million years look at you the way he’s looking at her.

Eddie sits on the floor between your legs with his back rested against the front of the couch as you aimlessly braid his hair. You run your fingers through his hair, carefully navigating through the tangles. You pull strains and weave them together without needing to think about it- you’ve done it a million times before. Eddie would let you do whatever you wanted, he loved the feeling of your hands in his hair. He’d lean his head back as far as he could manage, and shoot you an upside down smile. It always made you giggle before you would use your palm to gently put his head back into place. 

It was quite a sight for Robin, like the most fucked daytime drama never written, if she knew how to read the room and pick up on the very obvious clues before her. Steve, her platonic soulmate and best friend, pining over his ex-girlfriend while you, her other best friend, pine over Steve and all the while Eddie, Steve’s roommate and your other best friend, pines over you. It was enough to make her sick. All the while, Nancy is completely oblivious as she checks her watch, waiting expectantly for Jonathan- her actual boyfriend- to arrive. Despite the mess before her, Robin was none the wiser. 

She knew Steve was still hung up on Nancy, because he never shut up about her during their shifts. However, you felt you kept your lovesick crush on Steve under pretty good wraps. Unfortunately, Eddie was so preoccupied with you that he felt it every time your eyes were on Steve or he’d witnessed all the small things you’d do that convinced him you actually liked Steve. 

He’d watch as you couldn’t make eye contact with Steve, looking everywhere but him when he spoke. He’d watch the way you’d steal glances at him when you thought no one else was looking. He’d see the way you’d take a deep breath to compose yourself when you’d see Steve looking at Nancy. The same way you’d break your own heart looking around for Steve, he’d be doing the same looking at you watching him. 

You’d watched one too many movies where the guy realizes the right girl all along was his best friend. You thought if you were patient, Steve would realize he’d been in love with you the whole time and he never realized it. If you’re there for him in his times of heartbreak, he’d see that you’re so much better for him than anyone else. He’d see you, really see you, and know you were the one who was always there. 

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Robin said suddenly before reaching for the bowl of popcorn at the coffee table.

“Anthony Michael Hall is making a robot girlfriend because he can’t get girls,” Steve explains, coming off a little perturbed that Robin was talking during the movie again. 

“They could’ve just asked out a couple of more girls- they didn’t need to let their end all be all be two girls with boyfriends,” she continues and Steve scoffs. He couldn’t believe he was really about to have a debate on realism with Robin right now over fucking Weird Science. 

“This’ll actually happen one day,” Eddie muses and is met with four heads whipping around to give him the same weird look. “You’re telling me that like fifty years from now, no one will have this figured out? AV geeks are desperate enough- Ow!” You’d hit him playfully on the back of the head. 

“You’re not one to criticize anyone for being desperate, Munson,” Steve chuckles and Eddie promptly flips him off. “You don’t exactly have them lining up for you either.”

“It’s been a pretty dry few years yourself King Steve,” Eddie mocks, and you see Steve crack his knuckles nervously, hating the conversation going down this road. No one meant for it to happen, but now you’re all wrapped up reflecting in your own loneliness that the mood of the evening was almost completely dampened. 

“Can you guys be quiet,” Nancy chastises, “Some of us are trying to actually watch the movie.”

“You cannot be serious?” Robin giggles, “It’s a stupid movie, Nance.” 

The night took a weird shift. Jonathan did eventually stroll in and Nancy was understandably hurt that he was so late. He pulled a kitchen chair over to sit next to where Nancy sat but she promptly decided to ignore him, silently stewing instead of causing a scene. Steve recoiled back into his own head- Eddie’s King Steve comment affecting him more than he thought it would. He watched Anthony Michael Hall and kept wondering if this would be his fate- no bitches. Had he really been that guy to have peaked in high school and then is destined to end up alone?

Steve’s comment towards Eddie made him also get lost in his own stream of self deprecating thoughts. He knew Steve was joking- but there was truth to it that made it sting. Eddie didn’t have a lot of experience with girls, most girls- hell including the one he was actually in love with- wanted really nothing to do with him. He wasn’t that guy. Girls didn’t look at him like that like they looked at Steve- how you looked at Steve. It made him jealous and sad and made him feel so painstakingly lonely despite being in a room full of his closest friends as you played with his hair. He could scream. 

And as usual, you preoccupied yourself with Steve- thinking about what Steve could be thinking about or watching the way Steve anxiously rubbed his palms against his jeans. Was Steve thinking about Nancy? Maybe, just maybe, you could catch him looking at you, even if just once. Maybe Steve would get up and go to the kitchen, and it could be an opening for you to check in with him since he’s seemed off tonight. You felt hopeless. 

Robin just assumed most people were quiet because they genuinely were watching the movie, but she realized something was wrong when she was the only person laughing. It couldn’t be that she was the only one who wanted to crack jokes or laugh at this godforsaken movie. She eventually caught on to something brewing in the air amongst her friends and it was incredibly unsettling. 

“GOD! I can’t take it anymore!” She exclaims, and everyone jumps. “What is wrong with everybody tonight? You all are acting so effing weird and I can’t stand it.” 

“Everyone’s fine, Robin,” you offer, trying to diffuse the tension. She shooks you a look. A “do you think I’m fucking stupid” look that could kill. Fair enough, you think to yourself. 

“Clearly something is wrong,” she reiterates. Annoyed with Nancy, Jonathan takes the bait and casts the first stone. 

“I don’t know,” Jonathan muses, looking at Nancy before letting out his irritation, “Might have to do with the fact you hang around with your ex all the time- and it’s clearly obvious he still has feelings for you.” 

Nancy gasps, offended that Jonathan would bring a fight that they’d had before into the room for everyone to comment on. Jonathan knew how Steve felt, and Nancy’s refusal to acknowledge his concerns on numerous occasions has finally made Jonathan hit his breaking point. He needed her to realize that he wasn’t jealous of Steve- but Steve was jealous of him. Nancy denied that Steve still held feelings for her. She was actually oblivious. 

“Steve and I are just friends!” Nancy insists, “I have told you that and told you that! It’s like you don’t trust me!”

“I don’t trust him!” Jonathan emphasizes. “Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, he still likes you and you still keep hanging around with him when you’re supposed to be with me, Nance.”

“I am with you! I’m your girlfriend, not his,” she snaps. “Steve, come on, please tell him he’s being ridiculous.” 

Most unfortunately, Steve stutters. He hesitates and fumbles, and couldn’t lie fast enough. The pregnant seconds where he’s at a loss for words tells Jonathan everything he needs to know. It doesn’t feel good to know he was right. 

“Sounds about right,” Jonathan scoffs.

“It’s not her fault-” Steve tried to interject. 

“Stay out of it Steve,” Jonathan sighs, “please.”

This fight was not about Steve, and everyone knew it. This was about Jonathan, and the way he hurt when Nancy dismissed his feelings. It was about how she didn’t take his concerns seriously or ever was willing to talk about it. He was sick of being dismissed as paranoid or jealous. He knew Nancy had no idea how Steve felt, but it wasn’t an excuse to inadvertently gaslight him when he knew something felt off. 

“I’m going home,” Nancy says, sitting up suddenly in hopes of making a swift exit to save her pride. 

“Nope!” Robin interjects, “We aren’t done. I’m not letting any of you leave until all of it is out in the open. I can’t go on like this. You guys are my best friends and we are working all of this shit out.” She takes a steady breath and Nancy surprisingly sits back down calmly. “So props to Jonathan for getting the ball rolling,” Robin quips, “let’s actually keep talking things out, yeah?”

“Steve?” Nancy looks at him, and she looks hurt. She feels so betrayed- like all of the times they’ve spent together as friends has been a lie. A ruse to win her back- she feels lied to and like she’s simultaneously lost a friend in the same breath. It guts her. She’s too stunned to even know what to say. 

Steve keeps his head down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He holds his head in his hands. You watch him intently, you absorb all his hurt like a sponge. You keep your gaze on him, wanting to reach out and comfort him. You look like a puppy who's been hit on the nose with a newspaper and Eddie scoffs. 

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Munson?” Robin turns, picking up on Eddie’s disgust. He shakes his head and avoids her knowing gaze. Fuck it, he thinks to himself. 

“I’m fucking pissed,” Eddie announces, standing up. The braid you were in the process of making slowly unravels as he moves. He looks to you and then to Steve. “I’m not even pissed at anyone, I’m just stewing in my own self-hatred because I’m in love with her.” Eddie points to you dramatically, not even realizing how much he’s revealing as his emotions get the best of him. “But she’s so in love with you,” Eddie points a finger at Steve, “That she doesn’t even notice me.”

“I don’t even blame anyone- of course you love Steve, you know? It just fucking sucks because I watch you and you’re always watching him and you keep hoping he’s going to see you and he never does. Meanwhile, I’m so in love with you that it physically hurts and I can never tell you because you’re my best friend and Steve is my best friend. And if you like her back, Steve, you should go for it. I can’t even put myself out there cause scenario one, I lose you,” Eddie gestures to you. “Scenario two- Steve gets his head out of his ass and you two finally get together. I lose both of you, because I can’t put myself through watching someone I’m in love with be with someone else. Or scenario three- you and I do get together and I’m all in- I swear to god, I would be all fucking in. But would you ever even love me as much as you’ve loved him? I don’t know.” 

It’s your turn to be stunned. For the first time, Steve’s looking at you and it’s not at all what you hoped it would be. You recognize the look in his eye, it’s the same way Nancy was just looking at him. Pity. You know then and there that Steve never once thought about you the way you hoped he secretly did. It was all made up in your head. Eddie looks defeated, and mortified all at the same time. He shocked himself at his outburst. He’d always been one for dramatics but never at your expense. He feels so guilt ridden that he could shrivel up and let the world swallow him whole. 

“I, uh, need to get some air,” you say. You grab your jacket from the hook and slide on your shoes in one fluid motion. “I’ll be back,” you say quickly, slamming the door behind you as you left Eddie and Steve’s apartment. You can’t help as the tears stream down your face uncontrollably. It’s one of those cries where it’s so hard you can’t even make noise as it takes all of your breath away. You’re practically doubled over in the midst of a panic attack when Eddie finds you leaning against the building. 

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he says earnestly, “That was so fucked up. I am so, so sorry. That wasn’t fair to you, that was such a shitty thing for me to say.” 

You manage to nod to let him know you heard him, but you’re blubbering and you’re still struggling to get your breath back. Hiccuped breaths finally catch up to you and you feel your lungs slowly begin to refill with air. The night’s cold air helps to clear your sinuses in one big breath. You wipe your face with the sleeves of your jacket. You can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet. 

“Steve is so lucky,” Eddie says after another few moments of silence. “To be loved by you?” He chuckles, taking a lean on the wall next to you. “Lucky bastard,” he jokes, and you manage a forced smile through the tears. “Must be the best damn thing in the whole world and he doesn’t even realize it,” he continues more seriously. “Well, until now, when I ruined everything,” he finalizes, sheepishly. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it either,” you mumble, “God, what Steve was doing to me- I was doing to you? Fuck.” 

“Fucked up, right?” he teases. “How’s it feel, heartbreaker?”

“Really, really shitty,” you settle on and he laughs. 

“Yup,” he agrees, making a pop sound at the end. “Really, really shitty. Indeed.” 

“God, I wasted so much fucking time,” you admit to yourself. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he says softly, helping fix the collar of your jacket. It was tucked in because you put it on so fast and didn’t bother to fix it. “That I wouldn’t be able to trust you with Steve or whatever if we hypothetically got together or whatever- it was just a really, really ugly insecurity that bubbled up. If after this all blows over and you don’t completely hate my guts, and maybe by some miracle you wanted to give us a chance, I wouldn’t hold your feelings for Steve over you like that.” 

“Did you mean it that I’d lose you?” you ask, looking to him. He shakes his head. 

“I was talking out of my ass,” he admits, “I was emotional and just letting my frustration get the better of me. I won’t stop being your friend if you don’t like me back.”

“I’ve been doing that already,” he jokes and you swat his arm. 

“Not funny,” you grumble, but you can’t find it in you to actually be upset. 

“I don’t want an answer from you now,” he says, shifting back to a serious tone, but you can hear how nervous he is. “But if and when you get over Steve, and you realize I’m not that bad to look at- maybe you and I could go out sometime. I’m putting the ball in your court. I just want you to be happy. If you end up with Steve, I’m your best man. You end up with me, I’ll work my hardest every damn day to make you so fucking happy. No matter what, I will be your friend. You aren’t losing me.”

“Thank you,” you smile, and you pull him into a hug. You finally start to feel okay again. You feel like you could get over Steve, but then you remember that everyone inside is waiting for you- including Steve. The anxiety begins to stir and you can’t imagine facing everyone now after all of this. 

“I got you,” Eddie whispers, taking your hand, “We’ll go back together.” 

Eddie’s held your hand a million times before, but it wasn’t until now that you realize how well your hand fits in his. You shake your head to erase the thought from your mind for now and try to relax. The walk back up to the apartment is much longer than it’s ever felt before.

No one says anything when you both come back. You and Eddie kick off your shoes and he helps you take your jacket off. You sniffle, and quickly take your seat back on the loveseat. Eddie slips into the kitchen and grabs a six pack from the fridge. He holds it up like a fish he’s just caught triumphantly. 

“I think we all need one, yeah?” He jokes and he diffuses the tension as everyone agrees in tandem. He pulls them apart from the plastic ring, tossing them out. He throws you a wink when he tosses you yours and you can’t help but smile. 

“Can I just say,” Robin says, “Had I known you all were upset about actually serious stuff- I wouldn’t have opened this can of worms. I thought you were just pissed at each other about the comments about not getting laid.”

Nancy and Jonathan must have made up while you were outside because instead of separate seats, Jonathan sat on the living room chair and Nancy was perched on his lap. Steve was just watching you. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that Nancy was there. He was fixated on looking at you. He was taking in everything about you like he was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time. 

Fuck, if you weren’t beautiful, Steve thinks. He always knew you were, but he never really thought about it until now. Even after crying, you just look so pretty. He’s pained knowing he’s caused you so much pain. He looks to Eddie and feels jealousy rise irrationally. He’s jealous of Eddie for realizing how perfect you were before he did. It’s so fucking petty and he knows it. Eddie’s had all this time to adore you, while he’s squandered it following around Nancy like a simp. He’s loved you and lost you in the same fucking night.

“Let’s keep going,” Eddie jokes, trying to make light of the situation, “Air out more grievances- Buckley, you need new shoes. Those fucking chucks are abhorrent- please, get new ones. They are why your back hurts all the time.” 

“Okay, Mr. Same White Reeboks Since Senior Year,” she taunts, feigning offense to his jab. “Keep my converse out of your mouth!”

“I have boots now,” he says, pointing to the leather boots by the door. “Much more metal.” 

“Cause it’s fucking January, Eddie,” Robin says with a laugh, “Of course you’re wearing fucking boots.”

“Yet you strolled into my house wearing Converse,” he says walking over the the floor and pointing at Robin’s worse for wear Chuck Taylors. “It was snowing this morning, Robin! Please, as your friend- please let ME get you new shoes.”

“You can pry those shoes off of me when I’m dead,” she raises her voice. The lighthearted air has returned to the evening. It felt like it had been salvaged for now. Everyone seemed to be feeling better, except Steve. As the world began to pick up again, he was paralyzed- burdened with the knowledge of your feelings for him and knowing he might be too late to do anything about it. Was it?

PART TWO

[deathon1leg]

byler & yellow curtains (inspired by this incredible post by @love-byers)

i wanted to contribute some of my own findings (which i’m sure have all been pointed out before—i’m no genius discoverer) and personal analysis!!

this post got way longer than i thought it would, but i kept noticing more things to talk about. it’ll be s4 focused but i have some from other seasons too if anyone’s interested in another post :)

mike and el’s fight:

outside of el’s room you can see yellow/orange curtains through jonathan’s door, and some of el’s window through hers. when mike goes in, the window is the brightest and most vibrant thing by far and its curtains are WIDE open. when he goes to put a plate down the left curtain is almost perfectly between them, dividing them like a wall.

at first she doesn’t look at him, so only we (and not mike) get to see her face, which is cast in light and a bit out of focus. (also, the yellow-green tree she’s putting back together for her diorama is peaking out in the corner.)

the bottom two pics are el’s POV, hence the blurry background mike—she feels disconnected from/misunderstood by him.

when she finally turns around is when she’s talking about being different and not belonging anywhere (which, while in an entirely different way, mike can relate to). the light hardly hits her face anymore because it’s shifted to mike’s POV. he sees her in shadow.

the next time we get a full shot of the window is when el says mike can’t even write “i love you”, when she stands in front of it and it frames her.

i wanna point out mike’s face here. he looks so—guilty? afraid? vulnerable? just more genuine than he does the rest of the fight. he knows he’s been caught, and he doesn’t have an excuse (which is why he ends up deflecting and calling her ridiculous)

when el grabs the letters, the window is between them, separating them, and a curtain is directly behind her. also, she says “from mike” or “from” a total of 7 times. coincidence? idk. maybe i’m reaching.

the window/curtains take up a whole half of el’s shot here, and are still “between” them in continuity—it’s as if they’re another character interrupting the shot, just like will did many times in s4 m*leven scenes.

a few lines before “they’re nobodies and you’re a superhero” mike says “you know what i think of you, you’re the most incredible person in the world”. it comes across as ‘i think you’re the most incredible person because you’re a superhero’.

i think el’s “not anymore” is a response both to “you’re a superhero” and the “you know what i think of you”, because this is when she comes to the conclusion that mike doesn’t see her as the most incredible person anymore, and that mike loved her powers/his idea of her rather than her as a person (i do believe mike cares for her a ton and loves her as a friend, but this is el’s perspective) .

her expression changes as she realizes these things, and mike can tell he didn’t convince her.

mike’s talk w/ will about his and el’s fight:

will paces back and forth in front of the yellow/orangeish curtained window in jonathan’s room, venting about everything. it’s not actually a curtain but a sheet/tapestry, so it doesn’t do much at all to block the bright light. (note the bright lava lamp, too.) mike’s not really listening, and is instead staring at the note el left: Dear Mike, I have gone to become a superhero again. From, El

mike knows what el’s saying here. ‘superhero’ = a version of herself that mike can love again, and ‘from, el’ = her acknowledging he doesn’t love her (again, el’s pov) OR implying she doesn’t love him anymore, either. imo it’s a coded breakup/pre-breakup.

this is preoccupying his mind enough that he’s not paying attention to will talking about the very serious situation they’re in.

the note is a symbol of mike’s lack of romantic feelings for el, which lead to the deeper truth of his true romantic feelings for will. with that in mind, here’s what will says when it cuts away from mike looking at the note:

i audibly gasped when the cogs turned in my brain while collecting these screenshots

textually, he’s talking about hawkins here, but COME ON. if we read between the lines…

imagine will’s rhetorical “you” is actually directed at mike—which is easy to do since he’s the only other person in the room—who’s currently staring at the symbolic note.

the thing that needs to be kept contained is mike’s feelings for will, which cannot be contained at all without el. she’s his cover, his beard, his excuse to not face what he’s trying to suppress.

the window appears even brighter when the camera focuses on will.

after this, mike absentmindedly responds with “yeah,” and will notices how distracted mike is, saying:

AKA, if you keep ruminating on your feelings they’re not gonna change, you know?

so, he crumples up the note and throws it in the trash.

this means one of two things: 1. he’s choosing to continue to ignore and “get rid of” his real feelings, or 2. he’s accepting that his feelings won’t change, and is gonna stop trying to get rid of them.

considering the wide open door/‘closet’ behind him, the poorly concealed window, and the “i didn’t say it” “you didn’t have to” scene that comes later (‘it’ being ‘i love you’, as established here, and this convo being coded as also about mike and will’s fight)… i’d bet on option 2. then again, contradictory things happen later, so it may be a mix of both 1 and 2.

a single proper ray of light is peaking through the window, and it’s landing right on a green (blue+yellow, but you knew that) chair, pointing towards them.

even though they’re talking about mike and el’s struggles, will is in the forefront of this shot. he’s lit up by the window’s light, and even though mike doesn’t see that side of his face i believe it’s from mike’s pov.

note the red (el’s color) lamp by will’s head signifying that he think the convo’s just about her, and the yellow potted plant below it that the lamp would be shining on if it were on. (also note the upside down cross next to mike, showing that he feels his feelings for will are “blasphemous”.)

suzie’s room:

this one’s one of my favorites. after eden tells them where suzie is she says “make sure to give that selfish little four-eyed shit a nice little shove for me”. they get to her room but she’s not there.

mike’s, in the front, is first to notice the window, which has open yellow curtains w/ blue trim. the window itself is open, with a gentle breeze and birdsong flowing through it as delicate music plays.

it continues to zoom in on mike as he says this. the door’s open behind him. for some reason or another we’re supposed to focus on mike’s reaction to the window.

“give ‘her’ a shove” as in shove ‘her’ out the window—it’s open, it’s beautiful, it’s calling out to mike, he just needs a shove. and whaddaya know, in the next shot…

mike was the first to stick his head out the window, and is still in the forefront. the sun gets in his eyes and he squints and dodges it a few times, but then he smiles. he doesn’t regret it.

and just ‘cause, here’s another shot where mike and will are perfectly framed by suzie’s yellow-beige curtains:

mike and will talk about el and vecna:

in the top one, they each have a window behind them again. the whole house is filled with windows (w/ open yellowish curtains or shades) and just straight up holes in the wall, and unobscured sun rays come through practically every one of them.

the little curtains in the top left are green-ish and look blue from afar. here, sunshine pours onto will, and mike is exactly right outside of the ray—look at his arm and shoe.

will explains that he can still feel vecna’s presence and that they need to kill him. with (yet again) yellow curtains behind him, mike says:

he crosses the distance and puts his hand on will’s shoulder, and the light hits it.

mike’s in the light now—his arm, at the very least. he reached out into it with intent, giving himself a shove, and now they’re sharing the same ray of sunshine. when they hear a car approaching they look behind themselves at the window, acknowledging it, and then they get up to look outside it.

aaaaand that’s it. i hope you enjoyed this post <3 i spent way too much time on it… disclaimer that i have no media education and this is all from my (untrained) perspective. i also don’t claim to be the first to discover any of this, i’m sure i’m late to the party for a lot of things here, so kudos to those more attentive than me. thanks for reading!! :)

[willbyersabyss]

It’s Hawkins. It’s not the same without you.

In the teaser, we see a glimpse of a giant wall in the Upside Down. While there are many things this could be, it is most likely the border of the Upside Down that surrounds Hawkins. Let's talk about the implications this has for the theory that the Upside Down is Will's mindscape.

It has already been alluded to multiple times that the Upside Down is restricted to Hawkins. This wall further confirms what we suspected. But why is Hawkins the only place impacted by this dimension?

Interesting how Will is one of the people who mentions this. The Upside Down is not only stuck on the day of Will's disappearance, but stuck in Hawkins as well. What character is stuck in the past? Will. You could theorize that Will is stuck because of the Upside Down. Or... the Upside Down is stuck because of Will.

Will was in Hawkins his entire life until they moved to California. It's where he experienced the most trauma before and after supernatural influence. It's also where he met the people he loves most. His feelings towards Hawkins are complicated.

Will doesn't want things to change. He clings onto both his childhood and his trauma. He's stuck in one place, stuck in Hawkins. This hope to stay in the past may have manifested inside his mind, forcing the Upside Down to not extend past that town. Hawkins is the thing he needs to move on from.

DnD was Will's form of escapism. Before he moved, he donated his mental escape. He left behind Will the Wise. His full self, his wisdom, his consciousness, his mind. The Upside Down is a dark form of escapism for Will.

If the Upside Down is indeed Will's mind, his distance from Hawkins could explain why he feels so isolated in California. Mike isn't calling, Joyce seems preoccupied, Jonathan and Will barely talk, El is dealing with problems of her own. Will is never checked on. It's like Will doesn't exist. He isn't connected to his mind anymore. I don't mean that people in his life are distant for supernatural reasons, but symbolically similar to Max's ghost-like behavior. Will is a shell of himself.

Will has been painting a lot. This requires a lot of time spent in his room alone. He certainly is not happy in California. He's too caught up on the people he left behind, the life he could have had. Just like the Upside Down.

Hawkins isn't the same without Will. This could have a double meaning. Hawkins wouldn't be the same if it weren't for Will's trapped psyche. He (accidentally) changed the fate of that town forever.

They can't move out of Hawkins because they aren't a normal family. Will isn't a normal kid. Will can't leave Hawkins without being more abnormal than he already is.

And Hawkins is abnormal without Will. The Upside Down is abnormal without him. It's established early on that the atmosphere of the Upside Down is toxic. Strange how this abruptly changed in s4. They were able to breathe the air with no health complications after. Maybe it happened off screen, maybe the writers forgot. Or maybe it has to do with Will's distance from Hawkins.

When they initially arrived in Hawkins, the smoke clouds were significantly smaller than they were in the final shot. The spores and the lightning didn't spread across Hawkins for two days after the gates opened. What changed? Why now? A certain someone came home.

Mordor is a world from LOTR mentioned in s4. This realm has mountains surrounding it that act as a barrier wall. In the center, there's a volcano called Mount Doom. This volcano is controlled by the proximity of the ruler of Mordor. When he's far away, it's dormant, but it becomes active when he's near. Also noteworthy that this is where the One Ring was formed, something that enhances innate powers.

Note: I have never read LOTR so if anything is wrong, blame the fan Wiki

The ST writers love a LOTR reference. The library is in the center of Hawkins and is where the large, spore bearing smoke plume is erupting from. Will was warned of this eruption moments before it occurred. Was it his proximity to Hawkins that caused it? The same library where Will was found on the brink of death, where he may have been given powers. His ring. His stolen rulership.

Now that Will is back in Hawkins, he may be able to regain control over his mindscape that has run wild under Vecna's reign.

As teambyler discussed, the walls around Hawkins may also represent Will's emotional walls. Will is reserved. He likes to suppress his emotions and keeps his walls up until they're forced open like a dam. A core piece of Will's arc in s5 will require him to break down these walls willingly.

Will's ability to feel what Vecna feels takes vulnerability from Will to share. In the past, he has been hesitant to tell the others that he feels him. It seems that Will is going to be using this power to his advantage which is a step in the right direction.

Vecna feeds on secrets and hiding. By opening up to others, Will will free his mind from the hold of his trauma, his childhood, and Hawkins. The walls will come down.

[hyperactivelion]

Steve, Eddie, Johnathan and Argyle got high together, and are sprawled out in the Harrington living room. No one knows how long they've been silent. Steve is lying stretched out on the carpet. Eddie is lying on the couch. Jonathan is sitting in the matching chair. And Argyle is sat on the floor with his back against the two seater.

Thus far, Eddie has been very preoccupied looking at Steve. Thinking about how pretty he is. How floofy his hair is. How flawless his skin is. How he could make constellations out of the birthmarks that pepper his face and body. How soft his lips look, and how kissable. He's about to take his time looking at Steve's eyes, when he notices the faraway and sad look in them.

"Hey, Steve-o. What're you thinking 'bout?" Eddie asks, hating that Steve looks sad. He got such a beautiful smile, it's not fair that someone with such a beautiful smile has so many reasons to be sad.

"I miss hugs," Steve says. His filter completely disappears when he smokes. "Robin doesn't like hugs so I can't ask her. And don't get me wrong, sex is great and all, but sometimes I just wanna cuddle. But if you ask a girl over to cuddle she thinks something's wrong with you, and gets all mad and shit. Or she thinks something's wrong with her and she freaks out. But hugs are great. And cuddling is great. And I miss it." After his little ramble he lets out a tired sigh, like it's been weighing on him awhile.

It damn near breaks Eddie's heart. To hear that Steve is so fucking desperate for just a hug. Poor, beautiful Steve.

"Aww! Bro-chacho, get your cute butt over here! I'll cuddle you!" Argyle says and opens his arms wide.

Steve gets this dopey smile on his face and scoots over to Argyle. He settles happily between other guys raised knees, back to chest, and Argyle wraps his arms around Steve. Once they settle he gives Steve a squeeze, and Steve relaxes further into the embrace.

Meanwhile... Eddie is fucking fuming! That was an opening?! He didn't know it was an opening! Otherwise he would've taken it! Before the dumb hippie could have!

Ok, that's not fair. Argyle is cool. And his supply is fan-fucking-tastic, and seemingly never ending.

But also how dare he call Steve's ass "a cute butt"?!

First of all, it's a work of god! Or maybe the devil, 'cause it sure inspires a lot of sin. Second of all, it's an ass, not a butt. It may be pedantic, but there is a difference. Third... He might not have a third... But that should be his fucking hug!

That ass is his!

He just hasn't told anyone yet.

But it's like an unspoken claim!

Not that a person can claim another person.

When you think about it it's so fucking weird that people say they own their dog or cat. That's just a little dude that's chilling rent-free. But no one owns the little dude.

Eddie's thoughts drift off. Steve and Argyle stay cuddled up the rest of the night. Whenever Eddie glances over he's back to fuming, but he distracts himself easily enough.

"Wait..." Jonathan pipes up. "Girls get mad at you when you don't have sex with them?" he asks, looking like the poster child for high and confused.

Eddie has no idea what he's talking about. But apparently the others follow.

"Yeah," Steve says with a shrug. And Eddie has completely forgotten the conversation from 20 minutes ago, but he can still relate; he's very mad that he's not having sex with Steve right now.

"Girls like sex too, dude," Argyle says sagely. But Jonathan just keeps looking confused.

__________________________________________

After that night Argyle beelines for Steve any time they all meet up, to give him a big hug. The first time it happens the kids expect Steve to push him off or something. But Steve just gets this huge smile that takes over his entire face and hugs Argyle back.

Eddie is losing his god-damned-mind about it!

Nancy and Robin doesn't know what happened at "boys night" (all four boys object to them calling it that), but they're taking bets who's gonna break first, Eddie or Jonathan.

Robin wins.

Eddie never was any good at keeping his mouth shut.

(I didn't even read through this, hope it's decent, and that there aren't too many spelling mistakes)

[steviewashere]

After the Storm

Rating: General CW: None Pairing: Steve Harrington & Nancy Wheeler, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Nancy Wheeler/Jonathan Byers Tags: Post-Canon, Comfort no Hurt, Past Steve Harrington/Nancy Wheeler, Exes to Friends, Moving On and Letting Go, Everybody Lives, Dialogue Heavy

💛—————💛 Afterwards, when she's reunited with her family, Nancy pulls Steve aside.

One on one.

Under a looming tree. Shadowing them from the very sunlight that threatens to melt her to the concrete. Steve's a tree, too, in that way. Tall and proud and shielding. He's staring down at her with his large, drooping eyes—shiny as the day she broke his heart, shiny as her dreams before 1983 bowled her over. There's a streak of white in his head of hair that she's sure he's earned in all this fighting—just as she's earned the scar on her palm, the infinite ringing in her ears, the scowl that sours her features on a normal Tuesday. A smudge between his eyebrows that creases like paint peeling from its brush.

He's exhausted, she can tell. The darkness under his eyes. The bags; their weight.

Earth doesn't lay upon Steve's shoulders, but the love he spills—unreciprocated as it may be some days—carries over him like a thunderous tidal wave; if he were as arrogant as the day they met, he'd probably try to toss her off as if she's the surfer to his skin.

Steve's hands meld to her biceps. The way ink pools from her pens—all those lined pages in her journals, always threatening to blend together with the way her letters curl. He'd always wrote so brashly, so incessantly candid and caught in time, but he wrote as if the words were chasing him away; she wrangled the letters and made them bend to her will. They're not the same people as they were. Naive and young and their dreams mere whimsy instead of promises that could blow in the wind.

On Sundays, those years ago, they'd see each other in church. Spool out to each other with plans on how they were going to turn their back on blind faith, make for the hills, show their parents what they were all worth. More than the passages, that's for sure. And the picket fence—at least on Nancy's end.

Now, those Sundays are preoccupied with the surviving curled like a breathing, sleepy cat at the tail end of nightmares. They didn't turn their back, they faced it all head on with crazy under their breath. Somehow, though, the results were the same. It was all so blind—the foundations of this town, the beliefs of what truly built a family. Sometimes, she wishes she could return to those days before 1983; other times, she's never been more proud to survive it all. She understands, though, why Steve falls so gracefully to those dreams, those hand fed ideas of big families and searching for the Indiana sun in the other recesses of the world. There had been warmth there, a sense of security, the promise of a regular tomorrow.

And now she stands here, under two trees, wishing that neither of them wore weariness like a simple coat. The emotion rounds Steve's shoulders, turning his angles down to stumps, the chisel lodged between his shoulder blades. She knows the warmth of his blood on her fingers. His anguish bitten behind his lips when he's trying to be quiet, when he doesn't want to make a scene, when he knows that the night—as ugly and monstrous as it's been—has to carry on; with him or not.

She's sure that he knows the coldness of her body through the panic. That it'll never rid from his brain. How it felt to nearly lose her. That he'll wonder, forever, if the drag under the surface mirrored a fate they'd known of previously. He'll stay away from his pool, probably. And she'll wish that he didn't care so much about her—enough to drag himself to her; enough to apologize for the other people around them, and himself.

It was neither of their faults. How they came to be.

He was arrogant. She was naive. And they were proud.

Nancy finally wills herself to talk. "Are you okay?" she murmurs.

Steve rubs his hands up and down her arms. They feel right. Comfortable. Almost like before. He nods his head. "Yeah...yeah, Nance, I'm okay. Are you?"

"Eventually," she says. And that's the truth. One day, she'll open a scrapbook with Barb's picture still front and center, and need not to carry herself through the mystery; she'll just think, There she is. We know what happened. And that'll be that.

That'll be that.

She blows out a strong breath. It doesn't shake. Doesn't hurt. It just is. "I thought about what you told me in the...in the...down there."

"Don't," Steve mutters, "it's okay. I know what it was." His fingers tense over her biceps. Squeezing as if to hold on. Squeezing as if ready, finally, to let go. "Thought I was gonna die. Needed to know that you were still there with me."

"You know I'm always going to love you, right?"

"Not in that way." It's not a question.

"Yeah," she answers anyway, "not in that way. Not again."

The tips of his fingers brush her bare skin, where it's exposed from the sleeves of her shirt, and then they drop away. He blinks. Nods. Blows his own breath. "I will, too," he says quietly. "You know that you were the first person I ever actually fell in love with?"

"Yeah?"

"You felt right. Like you fit right into what my life was then." He darts his eyes away for a moment, staring off towards where Robin is, standing in the driveway, talking to Jonathan. Some heated argument they're into. Steve smiles at it. "I think my priorities shifted."

"That's nice," Nancy comments—because it is. "Is she your girlfriend now? Finally figure all that out?"

Steve sputters and laughs. Bright and loud. "Absolutely not," he squeaks out. "She's just my best friend. Nothing else to that. What about you and Jon? Figure that out yet?"

She sighs. Bumps her shoulder against his. Doesn't move away when they stay stuck side by side, staring off at their people. "I think he's about to disappoint me, maybe. Not sure if he ever submitted his applications for school. But...I don't know, I might take a year to stay with my family, as much as I loathe them sometimes."

"Nance, don't throw away your dream."

"I'm not," she says. "Just...I think my priorities shifted, too." And they smile at each other for that. "So...what about you, Steve? Going to school? Returning to the video store?"

Steve shrugs. "I'm staying back in Hawkins for a little while longer. All those butthead kids are gonna need me, I think, for a bit. Max has to recover. Lucas is right there with her, so he's going to need some moral support. Uh...Dustin is holed up with Eddie in the hospital...they both need me, too."

She hums. Likes that answer. "I think you've got your family all right here."

"Yeah, I think I do, too."

They go quiet again for a few long moments. Staring at everybody crowded on her family's driveway. Hugging and sobbing and swatting at each other. Mike even lets their mom ruffle his hair—shocking. Steve's standing proud. Like a dad at a barbecue. He shifts a little, though, and something falls right out of his pocket. A jumble of giant rings. Hah.

He scoops them up from off the ground. Counting them in his palm before re-pocketing them. She jabs an elbow into his side, makes him yelp and spin.

"So...you and Eddie?"

"Oh, god, not you, too! Rob's already on this kick with me."

"Hey, I saw how he looked at you. And, well, I saw how you looked at him, too. There's something there, I think."

He rolls his eyes and playfully smiles. Stuffs his hands into his pockets and snorts. "We were talking about you down there. Eddie was trying to get me to go back to you. They all were."

"Right. And that constituted you looking at his lips for..."

"It was hard to hear down there."

"Mm...it was silent, actually. Maybe I was to focused on Robin's rambling, though. But...uh...I think you and Eddie, you guys could be something special. A guy friend might be nice—unless, of course, you guys combine to do only the worst to people."

Steve clicks his tongue. "Eddie's not like that. He's sweet."

"He did give me a hand into that boat. I'll give you that. What else is he like?"

"Uh...he's brave...he's...talented. Nerdy. Knows how to wrangle Dustin. Deals with certain tones well...so that's a plus, I guess. Um"—

"He kinda also has my hair, don't you think? And the big eyes? And the pale skin? And the"—

"Okay..."—Steve laughs, Nancy giggles alongside him—"...okay, I get it! I've got a type or something. But...I think I just want to be his friend for a while. Maybe, uh, maybe see where it goes?"

Nancy bumps their shoulders again. "Not denying it, then? That you could?"

"What...that I could like boys? I've seen literal Satan and also know an actual, like, superhero child. It's not impossible that I could be queer or something. Maybe I know a thing or two that you don't."

"What the hell do you know?"

"See, the thing is, Nance, I've been sworn to secrecy. Like I told you, I'm a ninja. Gotta be stealthy." He throws his hands up with a—cha-cha—mimicking the likes of Jackie Chan. "And uh...I also just have eyes. You should pay attention a little more to Mike, yeah? See some things, too."

She shoots out a quick look to Mike. Who, in the present moment, has his arm slung over Will's shoulders. Holding him so tight that he's leaving fingernail indents in Will's flannel. Interesting. "Huh...and you know this...how exactly?"

"Eyes, I've got them! Plus, Mike returned Star Wars the other day with it paused on Luke Skywalker's face. Just his face! I know these kinds of things, Nance. And I, for one, know that Mark Hamil and by extension, Harrison Ford, are attractive." He blows out another strong breath. "But, hey, Leia's still up there, too. Have you seen Carrie Fisher in Empire Strikes Back? Total babe. Absolute babe."

"So...both?"

"Bisexual," Steve says in a way that sounds like correcting her. "That's the term"—there it is—"which—get this— I learned from a zine. Find the right bookstore, might change your life."

"And...if I said that I like the way Robin's freckles bunch up when she smiles?"

"I'd say that you and I need to have a shovel talk. Later, though. I'm basking in winning."

Nancy leans more into him. Reaches down, squeezes his hand, holds it for a moment. "Yeah," she says, still admiring," yeah, later."

They both let go.

💛—————💛

[mothhball]

Ok, you asked for it…

I NEED to know what BTAA!Scarecrow would think about having a partner with a mask kink? Specifically begging him to keep his mask on while fucking😏

Andddd why not toss some predator/prey into the mix😌🙂‍↕️ thinking about being chased around by this Scarecrow specifically is always on my mind I fear😮‍💨

HELLO?? JADE??? 🤤🤤🤤 your mind is so powerful

I was drooling all over the keyboard. This is messy and not proofread OR formatted well, but I'll make it pretty tomorrow. Right now, I'm tipsy and horny lmao

Minors DNI

To you, it was a spur of the moment suggestion, to him, it was something that had been in the works for weeks.

Ever since you accidentally slipped up and told him about a certain fantasy of yours.

During a lull in the conversation of picking a date night activity, the two of you got to talking about one of your shared passions again: Horror Flicks.

While you rattled off a list of your favorites, you missed the way how his eyes glazed over with something dangerous; something interested.

Especially when your voice wavered when mentioning one key detail: The masks of the antagonists.

Oh, he had you figured out immediately. His jaw clenched at the way you talked about the masked killers. How your eyes avoided his, and your teeth caught your lip.

At that point, you already were his favorite brain to pick, but that elevated your status even more.

Hey, he'd be an idiot to waste this opportunity.

So, while you leaned your head against his shoulder to watch The Prowler for the fifth time, Jonathan's mind was wandering elsewhere to make sense of the logistics.

He'd be indulging the both of you, after all.

Now, a few weeks later, you were on the run.

He gave you a countdown, sending you scrambling down spiraling, twisted hallways and never-ending corridors of an abandoned warehouse. The world felt like it was caving in on itself, churning shadows licked their way up your thighs and the back of your neck, while panicked whimpers spilled from your lips in a constant stream of noise. A frightened little bird, desperate for freedom.

And he was closing in. Fast.

The noise of his approaching footsteps was a constant in your ears, accompanied by your racing heart as you tried to find your way out. But it was futile.

Locked doors, boarded up windows, air vents that were bolted shut.

You were trapped.

Eyes flitting about to find a place to hide, you settled on the oldest stereotype. A closet. You were almost too preoccupied by the circumstances to grasp the irony of the situation, but two nagging feelings still managed to surface in your panicked mind.

First: certainty. Certainty that he was going to catch you. That he would find your pathetic hiding space and you'd be completely at his mercy.

And second: aching, burning, desperate arousal at the very thought of it.

It didn't take long before the doors of the closet flew open, and he stood before your cowering frame, chest heaving from the chase and slacks tented by his cock.

You could only stare at him, doe-eyed and frozen in place, trying to ignore the heat simmering like molten stone in the pit of your stomach.

And then, he was on you.

His burning gaze found yours through the holes in his mask, stripping you down along with his hands that were tearing your clothes apart.

He was panting, shaking from arousal and adrenaline as he grabbed onto your hips, dragging you halfway into his lap.

Greedy. Impatient.

"Hah, look at you," he rasped from beneath burlap, tongue heavy with need.

"Not even struggling, hm?"

The only response he got from you was the hitch of your breath as two of his gloved fingers spread your cunt apart.

"On the contrary," Scarecrow continued. "You're already dripping before I even got the chance to sink my teeth into you."

Once he stuffed his cock into you, his pace was relentless. Frantically, he bucked his hips up into yours, keeping your pretty body bouncing in his lap as he crowded you against the wall of the closet.

You could hear how he swallowed heavily, reaching up to lift his mask–most likely to steal a kiss or leave a bruise on your throat. But your hand snapped out to catch his wrist, preventing him from showing his face.

"Please," you gasped. "Please, please keep it on– I... fuck, I'm–"

You were a mess, eyes glazed over and unfocused, lips parted as he fucked the sweetest noises right out of your lungs along with a garbled mess of words, which he miraculously understood.

"If you insist," he chuckled, moving his hand to wrap around your neck instead. The tone of his voice was too eager to just be teasing. You knew he was enjoying this as much as you did.

Jonathan's own expression was hidden under his mask, the burlap rustling and moving from his heavy breathing and muffled grunts. He didn't feel human in that moment. Not with your mind muddled by his toxin and your cunt spread apart by his cock.

He felt like a hunter.

With his body pressed against yours; with his arms caging you in and forcing you to endure every punishing thrust, you felt like he was devouring you whole.

And it was a dream come true.

[sacrilegesummer]

Wet, Hot, American Nights - Part 3

Come on Eileen

summary: After arriving at your remote cliffside campsite, Nancy and Jonathon have a favor to ask you and Steve, pushing you beyond what you're comfortable doing. After unexpectedly inspiring Steve to push beyond his comfort zone, he starts to open up to you more, but the signs still feel mixed. Or maybe you're overthinking. warnings: flirting, wide open water, cliff jumping, mention of wild animals, cussing, cussing, heights, ‘only one bed’ trope, but for camping a/n: I am still VERY nervous pls be kind to me. I am trying to not describe the reader in any way besides age and gender, but if there's something written that feels like projecting a certain look, pls lmk and I will edit/fix it for the future:) hi sorry this took me so long life has been crazy lmao, bf is away for the summer so with nothing else to do this will take more priority in my life <3 Also the title names mean almost nothing, just a general vibe…

word count: 3.3K

After an hour voyage across the lake, traversing rapids in your small shitty canoes, and a mile and half portage with all of your things in hand, Cabins 6 and 11 finally made it to the designated camp site. Your campers fall down in a well-deserved huff. You were shocked, you didn’t hear a single complaint from any of them, not even a peep. In fact, they almost seemed to be enjoying the hard work. You let them have some time to settle as Nancy and Jonathon began to start a fire for dinner, while Steve unpacked the food. You place your bags by your tent bag, two lifeguard tubes near the edge of Jumping Rock (the cliff side), and immediately hang a rope in a tree to hang the bear bag later in the night. You learned your lesson during the first Site Night to hang the rope before it got dark. Thinking of the dark, you hollered to the kids behind you, “You’ll be setting up your own tent, so don’t let it get too late!” 

A chorus of groans followed your announcement, and Steve yelled back, “No dessert if your tent isn’t set up by the time dinner’s ready!”

You smirked at him, thankful for the backup. Nancy and Jonathon were too preoccupied to pay attention to you and Steve. 

“Steve…” you drew out, “if I cook your hobo stew, will you put up mine and Nancy’s tent?”

He grimaced at you, “I don’t know, I think I’ll need something else,” he eyes you playfully. “How about… You help me lifeguard the cliff and cook dinner, and I’ll put up your tent,” he said, sticking out his hand to strike the deal.

“Deal!” you shook his hand excitedly. Pitching the tents was your least favorite Site Night task. 

_ _ _

Your campers gathered around Jonathon’s hastily made campfire as you finished cooking dinner, all the tents were set up perfectly, girls on one side, boys on the other, with counselor tents on a hill, somewhat centered between the two. You let the girls giggle and gossip with each other, pleased to see them tolerating one another. You and your fellow counselors were further back on a picnic table, chowing down on your stew, talking about everything and anything related to camp. 

“Oh, by the way, you guys,” Nancy started, and looked between you and Steve bashfully, “Jonathon and I have a question for you.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” you said in between mouthfuls.

“Would you guys mind if…” her voice got low, “if Jonathon and I shared a tent tonight? You can say no,” she added quickly. 

You looked at Steve, your face contorting uncomfortably. Sure, you and Steve were friends, but you were just becoming friends, and the last time you shared a tent, you also shared it with a dozen other people. Before you could say no, Steve almost yelled-

“Yes!” His face grew red and he looked at you, a couple of times, quickly saying, “If you’re okay with that. I think it’d be really fun,” Steve said with so much sincerity, you couldn’t possibly say no. 

“Of course, that sounds fun. Just don’t have too much fun, you two,” you winked at the couple. 

Jonathan scoffed at that, “You’re disgusting, there are children here,” he mocked you. “Isn’t it time for a cabin activity? A little… cliff jumping?” Jonathan cringed as he said it, clearly hating the idea of it, but it was something both sets of camper’s had been talking about since checking ‘Jumping Rock’ out. You knew he’d be just fine though, he and Nancy would be at the top making sure everyone had shoes and lifejackets on.

“You know it,” Steve smirked at his co-counselor. He leaned back towards the campers, “Okay, guys! Swimsuits on in 10 if you want to cliff jump!” Steve gestured to you and himself and added, “We’ll be waiting for you guys in the water!”

He hopped up off the table and tried to pull you along, “Come on!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” you laughed, tossing your sweatshirt onto the picnic table, and then ran towards the edge, both of your lifeguard tubes waiting for you.

You stepped out of your shorts and threw them aside in a place you would remember them. You were in your favorite one piece, a blue one piece with red lining all around the edges. Athletic and flattering, you looked good. You looked over to Steve to ask who should go first, but he was already looking at you. This time, he didn’t look away, but he did make quick eye contact. He raised his eyebrows at you questioningly, his face growing warm. “What’s up?” he squeaked out. 

“Do you wanna go first?” you gestured towards the edge of the cliff. It was about 30 feet until the surface of the water, and another 20 before the bottom of the lake, but from up here it might as well have been a mile jump. You loved the excitement, though, the adrenaline rush wasn’t even your favorite part. It was the feeling of free-falling, the weightlessness of it all, and the wind against your skin and through your hair. It was incredible, and you couldn’t wait to go, but you wanted to give Steve a fair chance of going first. 

He looked over the edge and laughed nervously, “That’s all you,” and took a step back. He gave a fake cough and said, “I’ve never actually… I don’t really like heights,” he explained. “I might take the path down…” he trailed off, looking towards the tiny overgrown path that led down to the bank. 

 You nodded understandingly and placed a hand on his arm, “Of course, I’ll meet you down there.” You faced forward, the sun was just beginning to set over the lake, and you took it in for a moment. You looked back at Steve and smiled, “It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” hand still on his bicep.

“Totally,” Steve responded, “beautiful,” his eyes flashed between you and the sunset. His eyes dropped to your hand as you removed it from his arm, missing the warmth, even in 80-degree weather.

You took a deep breath, clutching onto your lifeguard tube that was under your left arm, and glanced back at Steve again for reassurance. Anxiety and excitement bubbling in your chest. The lake was like a perfect mirror to the beautiful sunset, and you took a few steps back. Not wasting another moment, you took off running towards the edge. The sun in your eyes and your hair bouncing wildly, Steve couldn’t believe he was the only one to witness this. He was completely mesmerized, staring at you as you ran off the edge. The moment you lose the ground underneath you, you let go of your tube, arms flailing. You couldn’t help the excited scream and hysterical laughter that left your mouth. 

The water was freezing, and the shock of the cold water made it hard to breathe for a moment, but once your face hit the surface, you laughed again. “Steve!” the first words out of your mouth instantly, “You gotta try it!” 

His head peeked over the edge, and you heard his laugh echo across the lake. “Give me some room!” he yelled as his head pulled away, taking some steps back. It was silent for over a minute (you checked your watch). Suddenly, you heard the pounding of his feet and saw his legs sprawl out as they left the rock. He let out a scream that sounded more akin to a horror flick than a joyous occasion. As his body cut through the water, his tube pulled him back to the surface. He came up sputtering and laughing even more hysterically. 

“I can’t believe I just did that. I’ve never done that! I never even jumped off the swings as a kid! Holy shit! I can’t believe you made me do that!” Steve rambled, his eyes wide with adrenaline.

“Made you? I didn’t do anything, that was all you! You should be proud of yourself!” you yelled back, despite being only a few feet away from each other. 

“I would have never done that if you weren’t here. I’d be a stickler up at the top like Nancy and Jon. Oh my god,” he threw his head back and laughed. “I can’t believe it, that was awesome.”

You found yourself staring at him again, for what felt like the hundredth time in the last few hours, you couldn’t help it. He swung his head around and began to swim towards you, his large arms stretching and moving himself forward impressively fast, until he was right within your personal space. You both were treading water, your tubes long forgotten. 

“You’re like, really really awesome, you know that?” You looked into his big brown eyes, your face fawning a bit, touched by his compliment. 

“Steve, that’s-”

The sound of screaming cut you off abruptly, and you remembered you were supposed to be guarding lives in the water, not staring into Steve Harrington’s doe eyes and gentle smile. Not counting the freckles and moles on his face, brought out even more by the summer sun, you were supposed to be watching your campers.

Your campers were crying your name, over and over, “I can’t do it!” Courtney yells. 

Yvonne screams even louder, “What if I die?” which causes all the other girls to scream. 

Nancy has her ears covered while you scream back, “You won’t die! Just run and jump, you big babies!”

One by one, you watched your (irritating but) wonderful girls encourage each other, support one another, and eventually gather the courage to jump. It was such a beautiful moment to watch. Courtney went first; she was quite the leader, and this impressed you beyond belief. Steve’s cabin wasn’t much better, but they were petrified with fear until finally, Wade took the literal leap of faith. By the time the kids had all gone up and down three times, it was getting dark, and you and Steve decided to call it quits. 

Alisha begged, “Can we please do the polar plunge here tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” Steve said seriously. It would be a polar plunge, and it meant they all were going to be soaking wet the entire way home, which usually led to some health issues in campers you all wanted to avoid. 

You and Steve pulled up the rear of the group, trudging along silently from exhaustion. Not a bad silence, in fact, quite a pleasant silence. You pushed Steve’s arm to let him know you were deviating from the group for a moment to go grab your shorts. Foolishly, you did not have a flashlight, and when you walked up to the top of the cliff, looking at the dense foliage, you realized that looking for your shorts was useless. Steve had followed you and realized what you did at the exact same time and said, “Shit. We can just look in the morning.”

“Yeah, but those are my only pants,” you said shyly. You were supposed to pack light! It’s one night!

“You can just wear my sweatpants. We’ll be in the same tent anyway, so it’s not like they’ll notice,” Steve offered, referring to the campers. 

“What will you wear then?”

Steve scoffed, “I like to live lavishly, I usually bring two pairs of pants, if you can believe it.”

“I actually can’t,” you said dryly.

“That’s okay, I’ll believe for the both of us,” he smirked. 

_ _ _

You were sitting by the fire, back at the knees of your camper, Piper, who was braiding your hair. She had what looked to be hundreds of beautiful little braids with beads woven in between the strands. She was braiding your hair into just two big braids, but said she could ‘sacrifice’ a couple of her extra beads for you. When she finished, you took another look around the campfire.

You noticed the girls growing increasingly tired with every minute that passed, until finally the conversation had completely died down. The boys were off in the woods. You think you saw them building forts earlier, but now you could just hear them whispering. 

“Okay, girls, I think it’s time for bed,” you said, just above a whisper, getting up and shaking the shoulders of Alisha, who was passed out in the dirt, a log as her pillow. As they started to file into their tents, you saw Jonathon doing the same with his boys. You gave him a wink across the fire before heading into yours and… Steve’s tent. Your face grew hot thinking about it. Sleeping in such a small space with him felt incredibly intimate, and you weren’t sure what to make of it. He seemed very excited at the prospect of sleeping in the same tent as you, though you wondered if he just didn’t want Nancy and Jonathon to feel guilty for asking. 

The absence of crunching gravel let you know your girls had gone to sleep, you turned around and whisper-yelled ‘goodnight!’ to your girls, who very adorably and sleepily said goodnight back. The air had become much colder, and you were thankful for the pants Steve would soon lend you. You made eye contact with him as he walked a camper to their tent (a boy who was scared of the dark had asked him to come with him while he brushed his teeth), and he smiled at you. You gave one back and unzipped the tent, taking your shoes off before carefully crawling in. You were a little startled when he put his face in the open tent flap and pointed aggressively at his backpack. 

“My sweatpants are in there. Go ahead and put them on. I’ll brush my teeth while you do that,” he said, and quickly pulled out and zipped the door up to give you some privacy. You rummaged through his bag and found what you assumed were the ones he wanted you to wear. They were simple, navy blue Nike joggers. You quickly undressed, taking your swimsuit off and putting on clean, dry undergarments. You put his pants on, untying the drawstring for more comfort. You unzipped the door to hang your swimsuit to dry and looked around to see if he was nearby or if any campers were creeping. The last thing you needed was for a camper to see the tent switch. You looked over at Jonathon and Nancy’s tent, hearing the quiet whispering and giggling, and you smiled gently at the two of them. You carefully stepped back into your tent. While waiting for Steve, you lay down on top of your blue sleeping bag and shoved your sweatshirt under your head as a pillow. You couldn’t help but notice Steve had a real pillow on his side. Talk about lavish! You were told not to pack too much of anything. Were you the only one to listen to that advice? 

You flipped the switch of your flashlight and grabbed the one luxury you cared to bring: your favorite book. You shined the flashlight on the open pages and read through a few pages before you heard Steve scratch at the nylon of the tent. 

“Are you decent?”

You laughed, “Yes, I’m clothed, come in.”

His head popped in and began to crawl inside, flipping on his butt to take his shoes off. He glanced at your book, “Do you want to read for a bit before going to bed?”

“No, it’s fine, I’m like, exhausted.”

“Yeah, me too,” Steve said, but the way his eyes were flitting around the tent led you to believe he was less tired than he was letting on. “You look good in my pants, by the way. You look nice in blue.”

You looked down at your legs and then back at Steve, “They’re sweatpants.”

“Still, you look good. In like- everything.” Steve’s eyes were wide, and he wouldn’t look you in the eyes. Your face grew red at the compliment. 

“Thank you. For the compliment and letting me wear them. I really appreciate it.” 

The tent fell into another quiet moment, the sounds of the campers' distant chatter and the rustling of trees outside filling the space. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t easy either. The heat of the tent, the closeness of your sleeping bags, and the quiet sound of nocturnal creatures made everything feel much more intimate.

You both settled into your sleeping bags a bit more, and you shut your flashlight off. You broke the silence this time. 

“You seem to really like your cabin this week. I’m still thinking about what we talked about last week, how you felt that you couldn’t connect with anyone at camp. Has that changed?”

Steve seems a little surprised at your question, “Yeah. I’ve taken what you said to heart. Finding that appreciation and connection. You know I’m- I’m letting camp change me, letting camp really, like- take its course on me. It’s been great letting my guard down and not being so… pretentious… about everything.” he said, sounding a little embarrassed, “I mean, even today, watching the guys help each other, and care for each other, it really makes you feel like you’re a part of something bigger,” you could see him grin, even in the dim light, “Like when Wade jumped. He looked like he might pass out before he jumped, but when he came back up… he was so stoked. Like, just so proud of himself."

“Isn’t it incredible! And you get to be a part of that. It seems small Steve, but you’re changing lives here, not just your own.”

“It is…” Steve smiled to himself and then chuckled quietly, “I don’t think I would have done any of that as a kid. And I definitely wouldn’t have the courage you’ve got.”

“I only pretend to be cool, my heart was still racing the entire time.” 

Steve was quiet for a moment, "I don’t know… I just think it’s awesome how you can just do all of that. You’ve got this confidence, like… nothing can rattle you. You walk around like you own camp, and you basically do. You walk around dancing like you don’t care if anyone sees. And maybe no one does, except me,” Steve says that last part so quietly, you couldn’t make out what he said. He looks over at you, and even though he can hardly make out your profile in the dark, he stares anyway. 

“I do not own camp,” you laugh, “and I dance like that because I just always have a song stuck in my head. Gotta dance that earworm out,” and you start wiggling in your sleeping bag, which Steve can only tell because of the scratchy sound of it against your clothes. You laugh and then say seriously, “But, thank you. That means a lot. It’s good to be recognized, you know? You also are like, really impressive this week. I haven’t seen such life in your eyes… I don’t think ever.”

He laughs quietly, “That’s probably true. It hasn’t seemed worth it until now.”

You smiled back at Steve, though neither of you could see each other. You were glad the cover of night shielded your facial expressions. You were beginning to like Steve, but you still haven’t forgotten the arrogant sex pest he seemed to be not five weeks ago. People change, but they don’t change that fast. You wondered if he was playing the long game with you. Maybe he was trying to get closer to Patty or Mae, your best friends at camp, and you were the way in. Instantly, you willed yourself to stop thinking about that, your chest uncomfortably tight. 

“Goodnight, Steve,” you said quietly.

He smiled, and you could see the glow of his teeth even in the dark, “Goodnight, sleep well,” adding your name quietly.  

 The night outside of the tent seemed to take you both into sleep simultaneously, the exhaustion finally reaching both of you. Steve fell asleep to thoughts of your hair, whipping around in the wind, your laugh that was quickly becoming his favorite genre of music, and your body in that blue one-piece. 

[vipvesper]

all is fair in love and war

pairing: octavian x child of bacchus!reader

warnings: octavian 😞, pining, minor cursing, spoilers for son of neptune!!

word count: 1.3k+

“i wish reyna would let me strangle you.”

Octavian? You hate him for the most part. You hate the storm swirling above the Temple of Jupiter that crackles with electricity as another teddy bear augury is completed. You hate the way his piercing blue eyes mock you from behind Reyna as you sit at a Centurion’s meeting. You hate his insane laughter that echoed in your ears 6 years ago when he mutilated your stuffed animal. You roll your eyes. Dakota’s red-ringed lips lazily speak orders to the Fifth Cohort, but nobody’s listening. We’re gonna soften the defenses. Again. Great. As if the looks on our faces afer stepping away from the Officer’s conference wasn’t bad enough, Dakota’s speech isn’t helping. He squeezes a packet of Kool-Aid.

“Listen, guys. This is gonna be a good one, I can feel it!” You take charge, opting to do the talking. “Hazel and Frank, I know you guys are still on the new side, but I think you can do this. First row, create a shield wall with Dakota as you advance to soften the blow. Second row from Cecil over, hide behind the shields to fight off any advancing defenses. The other twelve, try to sneak around the flanks and find a way in.” A smile pulls at your lips, moving your brother aside. “Let’s move out, troops! Victory for the Fifth!”

The child army echoes your cheer as your ranks break. A looming wall stands in front of you, cohorts three and four standing guard behind. How do we see past the wall? When it’s so tall? “I suppose we’re acting as bait again,” you murmur to Dakota.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Hannibal’s all ready?” You inquire, wanting to make sure your cohort gets the win they deserve. He nods, grabbing another juice out of his pocket.

The war games start, Reyna hovering overhead with Scipio. A circle of eagles fly in tandem with her, awaiting injury. You tag along with the twelve soldiers, attempting to find a crack in the wall, an unguarded plate. A tug pulls in your stomach, long green vines pushing out of the ground of the Field of Mars. Branches split off to grab your cohort, gently placing my teammates over the wall. It’s a struggle to keep Hazel and Frank quiet as they’re plopped right into enemy territory. The sounds of swords clashing rings out before you can even climb up yourself.

As you drop down, armor clinking together, the vines recede to leave a small scar in the earth. Wide blue eyes immediately stare back at you, coupled with the golden glint of a spatha. Great. Octavian’s here. Can’t give him a chance to think, you remind yourself. Your gladius makes a nice noise as you remove it from its sheath, pressing the flat against his smaller weapon. Before long, he’s disarmed. Unfortunately for you, he immediately starts to squawk, alerting any soldiers who might’ve still been preoccupied by their Mythomagic tournament.

“Backup! I need backup!” The lanky blonde yells, fumbling for his secondary weapon. A stray arrow whizzes past your ear as you lunge, grabbing him by his shoulder.

“Fifth cohort, for the colors!” Jonathan and Frank rush for their emblem, narrowly dodging flying furniture. Hazel’s backed into a corner by a First cohort member, her golden eyes filled with determination.

But, Tyche really isn’t on your side, is she?

A last minute elephant mishap knocks your troops away from the battlefield, wiping the scoreboard clean. Eagles swoop down to snatch up a good portion of the teenage militia.

You sit on a stone wall overlooking the city of New Rome, holding an icepack to your cheek. Guess Octavian had gotten you after all. A sigh rolls past your lips. The win was so close, it was right there. Bandages wrap around any minor cuts you may have acquired during the game. The all-too familiar crinkle of a Kool-Aid pouch makes you assume that Dakota had finally found you.

A rather soft object hits the back of your head.

It’s a freaking Kool-Aid packet. Grape flavored, at that.

“Wouldn’t Reyna like to know that her favorite Centurion is throwing a fit over a loss? What a sore loser,” a sarcastic voice jests. You grit your teeth, turning to face Octavian.

Curse him and his skinny body, his stupidly gorgeous blue eyes, his unblemished skin—

Woah.

Where did that come from?

“I’m looking for ways to better myself for my cohort. Not like you’d know anything about self-reflection,” You scoff. Much to your chagrin, the augur sits beside you. Phoebus Apollo rides close to the horizon, signaling the nearing arrival of dinnertime. “Do you mind?”

“No, I don’t,” he smirks. He looks quite stupid with those stuffed animals hanging from his belt, in your opinion. Seven stripes burn on his forearm under the symbol of an eagle, much like your own. His loose white toga hangs off his clothed shoulders. The sun radiates onto his pale skin, bathing him in a warm glow. Cocky bastard. He knows he’s pretty. “Do you have a staring problem?”

You snap back to reality real quick.

“No, I don’t.” You turn your head away, embarrassed. You weren’t staring, were you? Small vines decorated by bundles of purple grapes pop up around you, encircling the area. “Is there a reason you’re here? Or would you just like to gloat.”

Octavian reclines, pressing his hands on the green grass behind him. He picks a grape, tossing it at your temple. “I’m simply encouraging your improvement,” he teases.

“I wish Reyna would let me strangle you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

As you look out at the sunset, you don’t notice his eyes on you. You don’t notice the way his gaze trails over the bridge of your nose and your freckles and the rosy hue covering your cheeks like he’s committing the way you look at dusk to memory.

“Pretty night, huh?”

That’s unusual. Octavian making small talk?

“Yeah, it is.”

“You weren’t too bad today,” he mutters, very clearly avoiding his gaze. It’s very much unlike him to butter you up, even if he wants something.

“Thanks?” you tilt your head, confused by his praise. Should you be offended?

The two of you look out at the little Tiber rolling over the hills, basking in the golden hue painting the heavens. A long, cold hand drapes over yours eventually, gently squeezing. You jolt away, face pink as the clouds in the sky.

“The Pluto?!”

“Shut up.” He shoves something in your lap, and for a second you think it’s a grenade of Greek fire, set to explode as soon as he’s out of range. Tyche must feel sorry for her absence earlier.

A soft green material, as green as the grass, sits against your thighs, a happy smile staring up at you. It can’t be. A fuzzy memory returns to you, a feeling of nostalgia washing over you. A frog plush from long ago. Stitches a bit darker than the original fuzzy fabric reach from seam to seam, head to toe.

“What—?”

“Seriously, shut up. I found it tucked away, thought you’d like to see it again before it gets sacrificed to the gods again.”

You scoop up the piece of your childhood in your free hand, eyes wide as the cosmos. Before that little smirk on Octavian’s face can grow any further, a cold, hard object smacks him right across the face, sending him reeling.

“What the—?!”

“You little dick,” you huff, placing the icepack on the ground. “Thanks, I guess.”

He smiles—a real smile, however small—as he stares into your eyes. “You’re very welcome, love.” His alabaster face is painted red.

You shake your head, amused. “Don’t ever call me that again.”

Like a scene from a fairytale, his hand snakes its way onto your waist, the proximity only forcing more of your father’s fruit out of the ground.

“Like I’d listen to you,” he chides.

You lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a gentle kiss.

“I really am irresistible.”

“Shut up, you’re ruining the moment.”

[finalgirlwillbyers]

Heyyy

I trust your judgment when it comes to proper characterization of Will and want to ask the following if you don’t mind 🎄

What are the chances that Will is going to start the season with a “love interest” already? I mean kind of like Steve was introduced to the audience - making out in school’s bathroom? I guess I am mainly curious if Will as a character could get with some random boy (let’s say from the basketball team) during the time skip? Let’s say someone attractive and relatively nice hits on him, would he get involved with the guy? Also, would he start some secret relationship with someone he does not feel emotionally connected to?

Thanks.

There is a 0% chance of Will starting the season with a new love interest (who I call Random Guy #9). There is a 0% chance of Will entertaining another guy, outside of it being a 10 second gag. There is a 0% chance of Will considering requited romance as a real possibility for himself.

Will entering a romantic relationship is payoff for his growth. Said growth isn't "complete" yet. Not only is Will introverted and shy, Will is also closed-off. You need to be open to be in a relationship.

When S4 ended, Will--

1. was in love with Mike and unable to articulate his feelings in a way Mike understood. Plot line unresolved.

2. shared that he felt like a mistake. Self-loathing has never been addressed in show. Plot line unresolved.

3. was called out for talking to Jonathan less. Will is still hiding and isolating. Plot line unresolved.

4. was unable to communicate his sexuality, fearing rejection. Plot line unresolved.

5. was burdened by his connection to the Upside Down and Vecna, left vulnerable to evil. Plot line unresolved.

He's a Byers, the show's masochists. They love pining when there's "no hope" and self-flagellation. No wonder Hopper is marrying in /j.

I like the idea of Will trying to "move on," taking chances, and exploring his sexuality beyond Mike. But, I also understand that this isn't possible with how the show is written. This is why fanfic exists.

Will is the character having extreme difficulty moving on from previous events. His supernatural trauma has compounded with his real world struggles. He hates himself, and he blames himself (for real or imagined and supernatural or natural reasons).

He isn't in a good place. Quite frankly, he needs to be in a bad place in order to follow in the footsteps of his predecessors. That's not just Billy and Vecna but also El and Max.

The Duffers need to write Will overcoming a myriad of emotional, psychological, and physical obstacles for a relationship with another person to be possible, even if it's Random Guy #9. It gets more complicated with Mike, but I digress.

Will is a lonely figure. He struggles to be seen truly by those around him. This isn't just because he's hiding but also because those around him are preoccupied with their own problems. With that in mind, it doesn't make sense that Random Guy #9 sees Will or that Will allows himself to be seen (prior to his coming-of-age).

[thethirdromana]

Subscribing to Letters Regarding Jeeves and the Woman in White Weekly has left me preoccupied with the role of servants. So here's a bit of a ramble on servants - and particularly Dracula's servants, or lack thereof.

Jonathan comes from a time when being middle-class means having at least one live-in servant. But the number of servants per head of population in the UK was falling - from 1.38m in 1891 (4% of the population) to 1.27m in 1911 (2.8% of the population). That's why, in Jonathan's time, employing one servant means entry to the middle classes, but 30ish years later, the fabulously wealthy Bertie Wooster also has... one servant.

(To disgress: admittedly Jeeves is likely to be a lot more expensive to employ than the entry-level maid-of-all-work that a middle-class household would have, and there's also no indication that Wooster couldn't afford more servants, but I think it's still significant that he's happy with just the one. Wooster is gently snobbish about being appropriately dressed and going to the right restaurants and so on, but he doesn't see only having one servant as a problem.)

Dracula is a medieval nobleman. I don't know much about Transylvanian history but I would expect that in life, his castle would have been swarming with servants, both as a necessity (it takes a lot to keep a castle warm and clean, and its inhabitants fed), as a duty (to employ people from the surrounding area) and as a status symbol. And I would expect much the same to be true of a living nobleman on his country estate in 1890s Transylvania as well.

So why doesn't Dracula have any servants?

Well, obviously from a storytelling perspective, it's fucking creepy. I think the impact is lessened from a 21st century perspective because "there are no servants" is the default state for most of us, but this is the 1890s equivalent of being in a city and suddenly all the street noise goes silent. And I fear I am myself the only living soul within the place goes hard in any century. From Bram Stoker's perspective, I don't think this needs more justification and if I wasn't analysing every aspect of this book in the minutest detail I don't think I would give it any further thought.

The other obvious answer is that, being dead, Dracula doesn't need any servants. But I don't think that works. He may not need to eat or stay warm and presumably he doesn't produce any waste, but he still wears clothes that need washing and has horses that need to be cared for. Any old building needs an exhausting amount of maintenance just to keep it from crumbling. There's a lot of work that needs doing and I think we can assume that Dracula doesn't want to be doing it himself.

Perhaps he can't have servants. If serving at the castle means death (which presumably it does) then maybe the locals just refuse. And while Dracula has ways to pressure people, I can imagine that he would see that as beneath him just for the sake of having someone to wash his shirts. Maybe as much of that work as possible is done outside the castle, free of charge, by the terrified locals.

So then I find myself wondering, what is the state of the castle usually? Has Dracula spring-cleaned for his visitor? Has he brought the bed-hangings and linen out of ancient storage chests, replacing the moth-eaten ones that usually sit there, decaying? Has he dusted? There is an enormous amount of work involved just in getting the castle to the standard that Jonathan sees. Is there magic involved? Does Dracula usually live there like Sleeping Beauty with the castle crumbling around him? Or is the sumptuous luxury that Jonathan sees just an illusion?

[justatiredghost]

No Freedom from Knowing ch34 ao3

The general mistrust of magic as well as dangerous people in his past kept Jonathan Sims isolated, hidden away where he hoped he might finally be safe. Until he met someone who might be worth shattering that peace for.

-

As he followed Elias - Jonah - deeper into the building, it occurred to John that he hadn’t done nearly enough exploring when he’d been trapped here all those years ago. He hadn’t ventured down these corridors before and he had no idea where Jonah was leading him. Had he just been too preoccupied before? Or had he been afraid of what he would find? Well, it wasn’t like he had a choice, now. 

He was terrified as he trailed reluctantly behind, his mind racing as he looked for anything he could use to get space, to defend himself. He was at a complete loss, he had no idea what he was supposed to do. He couldn’t help but wonder what Jonah was going to do to him, and he wondered how he might betray Martin when he failed to fight back. He had come here willingly after all, so in a way he supposed he had consented to anything that happened to him now. 

He could remember all too vividly what Jonah’s hands had felt like on him, the way he had dug into his mind and taken his magic, the way it had felt to use the abilities granted by their patron to strip the secrets from a person’s mind. There was so much pain and suffering waiting for him here, and too much of it would feel good, and somehow that frightened him the most. 

He desperately needed to fight against him, but what if he went to punish Martin in his stead? What was he supposed to do then? Maybe it would be better to simply kill himself, take away Jonah’s options immediately, but that just made it even more likely that he’d seek out Martin for revenge. And then John wouldn’t even be there to try to protect him.  

“We’ll start with something easy,” Jonah said, breaking the silence between them as he opened a door and held it for him. 

John looked at him warily, but didn’t know what else to do. It wasn’t like he could run, so he stepped inside. He didn’t expect Jonah to shove him, and it sent him sprawling into the unlit room. He had some retort prepared as he righted himself, but before he could say anything, he heard it— the squirming. 

He would never forget that sound. He could remember vividly what it had felt like, to be covered in the tiny writhing forms as they burrowed into his flesh. It had been agony, and he would carry those scars for the rest of his life. And now, here it was again and he doubted he’d be walking away alive a second time. Something laughed in the darkness. At least, he thought it might have been a laugh, so raspy and harsh and wet it was nearly unrecognizable. He remembered that voice at least. 

“Can you hear their song?” the voice asked, and every word sounded like it took a great deal of effort to choke out. 

John was so frozen in terror, he’d barely moved from his position on the floor. He wished he had when he saw movement and something lurched out of the darkness at him. Into the light from the open doorway came the stumbling form of Jane Prentiss, still wearing the same tattered red dress John remembered, flesh covered in holes where the silver worms crawled and tumbled out of her, a wave of that relentless hunger washing over his senses and he wanted to wretch. 

John recoiled, but there was no way he could get away in time. He braced for the impact that was sure to follow, but before she reached him, chains he hadn’t noticed around her wrists jerked her to a stop and she simply stood there, straining to pull that little bit more forward. She cackled, and her mouth was a black void that spilled forth even more worms. John scrambled back until he hit the wall, kicking at the writhing forms as they wriggled their way towards him. 

“Now then,” Jonah said, so calm, like this wasn’t happening, like there wasn’t a woman half-devoured by worms that desperately wanted to do the same to him. “I’m sure you two remember each other. It should be an easy enough task to kill her.”

“What?” John demanded, near hysterics, his terrified mind barely keeping up with what was happening. “You want me to—what? And how am I supposed to do that?” 

“Use the power of the Eye,” Jonah said, like it should have been obvious. “She was the first to scar you, yes? Use that. Take your revenge, destroy her for good.”

Prentiss cackled again. John wasn’t entirely sure if she was following the conversation or not. Maybe she just thought the idea that he could kill her was funny. John wanted to laugh too, but he was too afraid he would cry instead. What Jonah had said wasn’t entirely true. The scars might not have been physical, but it was Jonah who had scarred him first. Or maybe it had been the Spider. No, that wasn’t right, it had taken another boy. It didn’t seem fair to claim he walked away with a scar when someone else hadn’t walked away at all. 

“No,” John said as he slowly climbed to his feet. He tried to stand where he could see both Prentiss and Jonah, not wanting to leave his back to either of them. There were still worms crawling towards him and he had to frantically stamp them down every so often.  

“What?” Jonah demanded. 

“I don’t want to kill her.”

That was just it. He’d met her when he’d felt trapped between worlds. On one side, warlocks, the other, humanity, and it seemed John didn’t entirely fit into either. She was the first warlock he’d encountered that wasn’t Jonah, and he’d held such hope that he might finally get some answers considering how tight-lipped Jonah was. He’d been wrong, and she’d nearly killed him for his hubris.  

He’d been terrified, so sure he was going to die in the most horrible way he could imagine at the time. If he wanted the moral high ground here, he could kill her simply because of the threat she posed to every living thing she came in contact with. Prentiss had killed so many so gleefully. But— somehow, John still didn’t want to kill her. 

She’d been right, he could hear the song of the Corruption, her patron. It was different from his own, but he could still understand why she accepted it. It— loved her, in a way. A destructive kind of love that left her this husk, and she’d been so afraid in the beginning, before she gave into it fully. And it was that fear that made John sympathize with her. If there was one thing he understood, it was that desperation for anything that would ease the fear, that would make it all make sense, make it worth it. Make life hurt a little less. 

Yes, she’d let it turn her into— this. John was all too aware that he could easily end up the same. Maybe he was too busy reserving that hatred for himself and didn’t have any left over for her. But all of the warlocks he’d met— he didn’t want to become that. He didn’t want to hurt people, and he certainly didn’t want to enjoy it. And maybe that started with not hurting them too. He wasn’t exactly a pacifist, if he could kill Jonah he would, but he didn’t want to be someone who sought revenge. And he certainly didn’t want to do anything Jonah wanted of him. 

“Hmm,” Jonah studied him for a moment, crossing his arms in disapproval. “Yes, I suppose I should have seen this coming given your fondness for beasts. What was its name again? Daisy?”

“Shut up,” John said, doing his best to keep his temper. He wasn’t great at it, but he didn’t want to let himself be manipulated. 

“Do you seriously think you can defy me? Perhaps I should throw you back outside, leave you at the mercy of the people you betrayed.”

“People you made me betray!” John said, his fury winning out. He knew the hatred the town held for him, and he hated himself for what he’d done to them, but maybe it was okay to put some of that blame back on Jonah for the way he’d manipulated him. 

“Hardly. You didn’t even need to be pushed, you started using your powers of your own volition. 

Maybe you can lie to your little friends, but not to me. I know how much you wanted it. You wanted the power, you wanted the answers, no matter the danger. Why deny yourself now? You can’t tell me that want ever went away.”

Of course it hadn’t. He wasn’t such a fool that he could lie to himself about that. He wanted this, he wanted that knowledge, he needed to know, and it had felt so good to finally have any sort of power when he’d felt so powerless for all his life. But that didn’t mean it was right. He hated himself for it, fought against it with every fiber of his being. And it made him so angry, how freely he’d used it in the beginning. He wouldn’t let himself do that again. 

“What’s the point?” John demanded. “Why does it matter? Just so you can reap the benefits when you kill me?”

“I suppose you could always kill me first,” Jonah challenged, and he knew he was trying to manipulate him. It was obvious. “Just get strong enough to actually pose a threat.”

John knew he was impulsive and quick to anger. He had long since abandoned his attempt at calm professionalism. But for once, he saw this for what it was. He was trying to get a rise out of him, trying to get him to react the way he wanted. And John hated how close it was to working. He wanted him to lash out, to take hold of the anger and give in, devote himself to their patron and unlock all that power just so he might actually have the chance to hurt this monster after everything he’d done to him, to make him sorry. 

But Jonah had had lifetimes to grow his strength. He would never really stand a chance against him. Stabbing him was the closest he’d ever gotten to hurting him, and that had hardly done anything. It wouldn’t work, and if he did what Jonah wanted now, it would only make him more powerful, more terrifying, when he took his body. Then there would just be even more blame on him for the suffering he would cause. 

And besides, John knew everything that had happened to him had been his own fault. He wanted to blame Jonah, but he’d simply set him on the path. Every step he’d taken had been his own choice, every person he’d hurt along the way had been his own doing. He was a monster, and he despised himself so much for it. Which was why he needed to fight against it now. 

He knew the harm he was capable of inflicting, and he so desperately wanted to be the kind of person who wouldn’t. He wanted to be the kind of person Martin saw when he looked at him. He wanted to be someone he could be proud of. Too little too late, he knew. His life was over, anyway, it hardly mattered what he did with what was left of it. But if he could reject that part of himself, and spite Jonah alongside it, he had to. He didn’t want his last acts to be that of a monster. 

He wasn’t used to seeing any strong emotions on Jonah. He was always calm and collected, his actions and words carefully chosen. Right now, though, he saw the rage hidden behind his eyes. In a flash, Jonah grabbed him and slammed him against the wall and pinned him there, pain knocking the breath from his lungs as panic spiked through him. Before he could recover, Jonah dug his thumb into the knife wound in his shoulder, grinding against it and drawing an agonized cry out of John, and he didn’t know what to do, what to expect. 

“Don’t be a fool, Jonathan,” Jonah snarled. “If you fight me on this, I will make sure you suffer before the end.”

John knew he wasn’t brave, he never had been. He hated pain and usually would gladly take the blow to his dignity if it meant escaping it. So it wasn’t bravery that made him grit his teeth through the blinding pain, because he could see it now. He could see the frustration and the rage. He could see this for what it was, Jonah’s demeanor slipping as he lost his patience. And if there was one thing John was, it was stubborn and petty. 

Was this what happened with Gertrude? She’d clearly ruined his plans one too many times, made herself enough of a nuisance that he lost his composure, fury driving him to act for a change. Had she gotten to see this too? If so, maybe her death wasn’t such a tragic thing after all, because John knew now that there was a satisfaction in thwarting Jonah, denying him so completely that he let his frustration show. Maybe it was worth whatever consequences were sure to follow. 

Maybe Jonah was realizing that he couldn’t win here. Not that that meant John would win instead. No, this was both of them losing. If John was going to die, he was going to make this as difficult for Jonah and his carefully laid plans as he could. He wasn’t strong and he wasn’t clever. Every part of him was terrified as he looked into those eyes, but he held onto that stubborn satisfaction and refused to look away. 

Jonah sneered as he released him, and John’s legs gave out immediately. He collapsed to the floor in a heap, breathing heavily as he tried to regain himself. The wound in his shoulder was definitely bleeding again, but thankfully the bandage was still intact. He was aware he was trembling again, his racing mind wondering what would happen to him next as what he’d just done finally caught up with him. There were so many things Jonah could do to him, especially if he didn’t care to keep him alive when he was done with him, and he would be helpless to fight against it. 

“Fine,” Jonah said, and he was so relieved when he stepped away. That relief only lasted a moment. “Let’s see how you fair after a night in here. Maybe you’ll be more amenable come morning.”

Terror gripped John as he glanced towards Prentiss. He scrambled forward, tried to throw himself at the door before Jonah could get it latched behind him, but he heard the deadbolt slide into place as he rammed his shoulder against it uselessly. 

“Jonah,” he yelled as he slammed his fist against the door, but he could hear him whistling as he headed back down the corridor. 

He was trapped. He was trapped in here with a being that wished to consume him body and soul, to burrow into him until his sense of self was replaced with the song of the hive. It would make him want it, need it, until there was nothing left of the person he had been. He would become a different kind of monster than the one he thought he’d end up as, but one just as capable of hurting Martin if he stumbled across him in such a state. 

He covered his mouth to stop the strangled sob from escaping as he stared at Prentiss, her hollow eye sockets turned in his direction as if she could still see. And maybe she could. Maybe the worms did the seeing for her now. He shivered, clutching his injured arm as he waited for something to happen. He was more alone than he’s ever felt before and he hated how much he wanted to beg Jonah to come back, to agree to anything he might demand of him. 

But he couldn’t. Jonah had left him in here in an attempt to force him to use the magic their patron granted them and he couldn’t use it. He doubted he truly had the strength to kill someone like Prentiss, but he didn’t want to try either. So what could he do? Could he take his fate back into his own hands, ensure he died under his own terms before he could be turned fully into a monster that would serve either the Watcher or the Corruption? The room was empty and he had nothing to hand to kill himself if it came to it. 

Maybe he’d get lucky and the Corruption would only be able to kill him instead of turn him and take him over. He didn’t think a person could be claimed by more than one patron. Not that he had any evidence one way or the other. He didn’t want to risk it, he didn’t want to find out. All he could do was watch and wait and hope she wouldn’t get the drop on him. 

[lune-moon-nuit]

What if Will has a coming out scene to Lucas, Dustin and Mike? I feel like that would interesting. I feel like Lucas and Dustin could possible have already guessed that Will was gay or like in retrospect it fits. Mike would obviously be shocked. He definitely doesn’t think Will is gay. I don’t think he’d have any reason to. I think Mike was so preoccupied with his own sexuality and keeping it hidden that he just didn’t think anybody could be like him let alone the one person he likes. So busy keeping anything from getting too romantic on his side when it came to interacting with Will that he didn’t notice all the hints that Will might’ve been throwing his way. Maybe Will coming out could possible inch Mike a little closer for his own coming out. Maybe he comes out to Will. Then with them both out and going on this supernatural plot uncovering adventure together we could see them leaning more comfortably into the romantic side of things. Where they aren’t shying away from those feelings that have been brewing inside.

I'm not entirely sure that Dustin and Lucas have figured it out. Aside from the bullying by Lonnie and the school bullies, there’s nothing that objectively ties Will to homosexuality. He doesn’t seem interested in girls and has never dated one, but honestly, at 12-15 years old, that’s the case for the majority of boys his age. The only reason Will is perceived as gay in the eyes of Lonnie and the bullies is because he’s a sensitive child. And that’s literally just prejudice based on gender stereotypes—because, to them, being sensitive and showing emotions equals weakness, which equals being like a woman, and therefore, if you’re a boy and you’re sensitive, you must be gay.

As Will has grown up, he hasn’t exhibited anything beyond that regarding his sexual attraction—whether it be through his clothing style, the way he speaks, or his interests. When you look at Will from an objective standpoint, without being blinded by misogynistic and homophobic biases, he’s just an introverted and artistic boy who has been drawing since childhood and later took up painting. And the only reason we perceive his homosexuality is through his love for Mike—because we see things from his point of view.

Aside from Jonathan, who directly witnessed Will and Mike’s dynamic multiple times in Season 4 (which is why the van scene was literally confirmation for him of everything he had observed since Mike arrived in California in Episode 2), no one has actually seen Will exhibit openly "gay" behavior or display obvious romantic feelings for Mike—including Dustin and Lucas. So, I really don’t think they’ve figured it out—or if they do, it will likely happen in Season 5, as Mike and Will will find it increasingly difficult to hide their feelings for each other when they’re in the same room. That would certainly make for a very interesting scene, but I honestly have no idea how to imagine it in a realistic way.

Because, even though they’ve been outcasts their whole lives—first as children and now as teenagers—it doesn’t change the fact that they grew up in a society that instilled heteronormativity in them. Take Lucas, for example—he immediately assumed Mike had a crush on El in Season 1. So, even when you're the most open-minded person in the world, you can still have automatic thoughts that need to be deconstructed. And maybe, if Will comes out, their initial reaction could be awkward—unintentionally—before they correct themselves afterward? It’s really hard to say, and even harder to put ourselves in the shoes of teenagers who have spent their entire lives in a society that has depicted homosexuality not only as a sin and a vice but also quite literally as a sign of death and disease during the AIDS crisis.

I have no doubt that they love Will and will support him, but let’s not forget that Steve’s reaction to Robin was the exception to the rule at that time—it’s not that easy, even with people as safe as Dustin and Lucas. As for Mike, I believe he feels it unconsciously but refuses to acknowledge it—just as he refuses to acknowledge his own feelings. Because… ever since Season 2, when they’re together and having their moments—even in Season 4, like the two bedroom scenes—the chemistry and connection are so palpable that you know, you just know that the other person knows. I mean, anyone who has shared a deep emotional connection accompanied by romantic feelings or mutual sexual tension with someone will understand what I mean.

Mike and Will are not stupid—they feel their connection, but because the external stakes are too high, combined with their inability to communicate, they don’t understand each other enough to believe that their feelings are mutual. I’m not sure if I’m being clear… For example, I think Mike did understand—or at least suspected—that Will was talking about him in the van scene. But when Will insisted that Mike declare his love for El to save her, specifically mentioning "you are the heart," Mike convinced himself: "Oh, so he really was talking about El… so those weren’t Will’s own feelings in the van. Okay." And misunderstandings like this have defined their relationship since Season 3, but especially throughout Season 4.

I also believe that, deep down, Mike senses that his feelings for Will are reciprocated—but admitting that would mean also admitting his own feelings, which would, in turn, bring everything else into play: being a gay teenager in the 1980s, in a rural American town, in the middle of the AIDS crisis, with parents who voted for Reagan, a deeply conservative president. I’m not sure if they’ll have an actual coming out—maybe Mike could have a scene with Nancy that parallels Will and Jonathan—but what is certain is that Mike and Will will have that scene, the one where the truth finally comes out, and it will be the catharsis for all these years of repressed, hidden feelings that have caused so many misunderstandings between them.

Don't hesitate to share me your opinions, I would be curious in case I didn't analyzed well the characters

[stonathans-mystical-realm]

Keeping Steve safe is Jonathan's top priority

Jonathan also was scared running trying to survive and was still looking after Steve to protect him and keep him safe even while running. Jonathan warned Steve to jump over the trap and if he hadn’t, Steve would have gotten trapped and they could have done nothing to save him once the demogorgon reached him. Steve would have died if Jonathan hadn’t warned him and been more focused on Steve’s safety atm than his own. Its the point that thanks to Jonathan valuing Steve’s life more than his own, thats what saved Steve.

Its the fact that Jonathan is being so protective of Steve during all of this too. See it from his pov. He’d have to keep looking around to see where Steve is while this is all going on, make sure Steve is safe and think to save him from incoming danger [like the demogorgon, like the trap], ext… Jonathan had himself and Nancy to worry about and had to deal with the current battle with the demogorgon, but his main concern was ‘Is Steve safe?’ I got to warn him and save him and make sure he stays safe.

Just think that instead of Jonathan running, after he rescued Nancy, Jonathan didn’t. He checked around to make sure Steve got out safely Jonathan could have been killed for that hesitation, but it didn’t matter. He stopped to think and check if Steve got out ok and when he saw Steve was frozen in fear, he saved him and made sure he got out safely.

And then the trap, he thought oh no Steves gonna step on that, get trapped, and then get killed by the demogorgon, and tells Steve when to jump. Anyone else would be preoccupied with keeping themselves safe, but Jonathan isn’t thinking of himself here like other people would, he keeps worrying about Steve more and thinking of him the whole time and ways to keep Steve safe. That’s the most important thing to Jonathan atm.

[ilovetheriddler]

Horror Movie Marathon.

(BTAS) Jonathan Crane x F!Reader.

Word Count: 660.

Contents: Jonathan overworking himself, Fluff, kissing.

You carefully set out all the dvds that you had prepared in advance for tonight. You wanted to try and organize a date around some of Jonathan's interests. However, that proved to be a bit difficult because of his more unusual tastes. But you ultimately decided that because of his fascination with fear that a horror movie marathon would probably be enjoyable.

You wondered if he'd appreciate your attempt at a nice date. Would he actually enjoy horror movies? You weren't fully sure, but you really hoped that he would. You had ultimately reasoned that with his overall interest in fear that he'd probably be able to at least appreciate the movies on an artistic standpoint.

You've been looking forward to this night for a few weeks now. You and Jonathan had been dating for almost a year and a half now. However, you were hardly ever able to spend time together. He was always working on his fear toxin and coming up with plans on how to use it, or he was getting thrown into Arkham after batman had caught him, or he was escaping Arkham... Again. Honestly, he was always preoccupied with something.

You were snapped out of your train of thoughts as you heard the door to Jonathan's office open. His hair was quite disheveled, and his eyes looked tired. He had clearly been working away nonstop on his latest plans. He walked into the kitchen and poured himself a cup of coffee in an attempt to keep himself awake slightly longer.

"Jon..? Don't tell me that you've been working in there since earlier this morning without a single break?"

"I have to, my dear. If I want my plan to go perfectly, then I need to enact them at the best time possible, so it needs to be finished in time."

You felt a bit disappointed and also worried for Jonathan's health if he kept working away at this rate. You knew and understood how important his research into fear and how it affected people was. He was extremely passionate about it, in fact. it's definitely not in the best of ways, but that was just one of the many things that made him... him.

He noticed that you appeared to be slightly disappointed about something, so he sighed and ran his hand through his hair before asking you about it.

"What’s wrong, my dear?"

"Oh... well, I suppose I'm just a bit worried about you.... are you sure you can't take a break...? Not even for just a little bit..?"

"....are you really dead set on having me take a break?"

"....Absolutely."

He sighed and reluctantly sat down on the couch next to you. It was then that he noticed the stack of movies and the bowl of popcorn that was setting on the coffee table. You wanted him to spend time with you. Honestly, he was somewhat less irritated about taking a brief break when he realized that. A slight smile broke out on his face.

"....A horror movie marathon...? That's what you want to spend your time doing with me?"

"Well... it's just... I know how much you like fear and stuff... so I thought you'd appreciate it...."

It warmed his heart that you wanted to try and do something he'd enjoy. Horror movies weren't exactly something he was too invested in. After all, they paled in comparison to the genuine fear that he had witnessed in people's eyes whenever he used his fear toxin. But they were still somewhat enjoyable. He leaned in closer to you and gently kissed your lips.

"Thank you, my dear. I appreciate the gesture."

After about an hour of watching them, you realized that Jonathan had fallen asleep next to you, clearly because of how much he'd been overworking himself with his plans. So you decided not to wake him. You adjusted the blanket to cover him better before kissing his forehead.

"... Goodnight Jon, I love you...."

[edward-munson]

"Bad Reputation" - Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Summary: You wanted to pretend you were going out with someone as the guy from school insists on hooking up with you. Among the people at a party, you choose Steve Harrington, who has a bad reputation.

Warning: Cursing, fluffiness, alcohol

Word count: 3.1k

Someone from school was throwing a party you weren't supposed to be at, but you went to anyway. Robin made you go with her so you would do something on the weekend.

And then she dragged the whole gang with her, including the kids - the kids were actually 18 now.

Among too many people, you were trying to squeeze between them so you didn't bump into Riley, because he was insisting too much on hooking up with you for weeks.

You were thinking about hitting on someone just so you could get rid of him, but the only guys available, which you would hook up, included Eddie, who was getting high with his friends.

Jonathan, but he was too preoccupied with Nancy, and... Steve Harrington. You didn't know him well enough, and he was really involved in just talking with Dustin and Mike and some other guys, drinking some beer.

The fact he wasn't hooking up with any girl was weird, but understandable.

It's not like he was still that guy who would make a line so girls with kiss him. His bad reputation ended up making him become different than that guy.

You thought to yourself, that maybe if you could ask him a favor, you could make Riley give up on you.

Not that it was the greatest idea, but Eddie wasn't actually really into hooking up at parties and you were somewhat friends.

You walked towards the boys and Dustin and Mike ceased the conversation just to have a look at you. Henderson gave you a smirk and you thought it was cute.

You noticed Steve made the same course as them and stared at you. Well, you made it halfway, might as well just finish it.

"You're Steve Harrington, right?", you asked as he nodded, puffing his chest. He was "retired" from being a jerk, and now the girls would usually hit on him.

"Yeah, that me", he said as he gave a side smile to the other boys. Both of them gave him a grimace look, leaving you both alone. "And who are you?".

"I'm (Y/N). Can you do me a favor?", you were looking around you as you tried to find Riley. Harrington wasn't really getting your point, but nodded anyway.

"I'm trying to get rid of a guy, can you pretend we're going out?". You spoke close to his ear as the music was too loud.

"Uh, sure. But you know I have a bad reputation, right?", he questioned, like it's a warning. You honestly don't care at all, because you don't judge people either way.

"I don't mind, really. And I don't see it that way". You smile at him, you really didn't.

"You're not pranking me, are you?". He sounds really suspicious and it almost makes you gasp.

"Why would I do that?", you seemed kind of offended, he was playing defensive. "Look, are you gonna help me or not?".

Steve looked like he was having a meltdown, he took too long to think and you were already giving up your decision. Maybe it would've been better to ask Eddie, he's always doing crazy shit anyway.

"Fine", he gave in. "And what's in for me?", Steve asked and you grinned at him, sipping on your beer. "You know what? I've got something better. I pretend to be your hook up, and you help me get my good reputation back".

You almost snorted, why would he, of all the things he could ask for, want to have a reputation after all?

Although you knew he was always a jerk to girls, he would always be the least of the romantic, always getting in trouble for going out with committed girls as well.

Maybe it wasn't a bad idea after all, he was nice, you've heard. Robin was his closest friend and she sure would never lie about him.

You found Riley walking around with a friend and immediately crashed your lips against Steve's. He wasn't really waiting for that so it was a sloppy kiss at first, just pecking.

He wrapped your waist with one of his arms while holding the beer with the other. He tasted like cinnamon as he was chewing a gum and it made you melt down under his kiss.

You opened one of your eyes slightly as you watched Riley leave. You broke the kiss and looked and Steve, who was still shocked by your sudden approach.

"Wow, could've warned me first", he said as he rubbed one hand against his soft hair and you chuckled.

"I'm sorry, I thought you were expecting it", you used your thumb to clean up your smudgy lipstick on his lip.

"Not that fast, honestly", he gives you a nervous grin. "Who is the guy, by the way?". Harrington asked as he followed you to the kitchen. You were looking for something stronger. You needed something to get through the night.

"Riley Edwards he's on the band group. Robin probably knows him". You found a bottle of Gin and decided to make yourself a Gin Tonic.

Steve was just behind you as you were making the drink. You probably didn't know what to do next, you just know you're supposed to be kissing when the guy is around.

But other than that, what are you going to do when he's not around? Maybe kiss him again properly would be nice.

"I already said no to him. But he's too persevering", you finished your drink and almost chugged it entirely.

Steve watched you with his brows furrowed. "Jesus, easy with that".

"You're not playing boyfriend here", you provoked.

You laughed at his sudden worriness and offered him the cup. He grabbed it and sort of savored it first before drinking it. His face went bloody red and he almost choked.

"Fuck, this is strong as hell, (Y/N)", you were still chuckling watching him scrunching his nose.

"Yeah well, don't act like a baby girl", you drank the entire cup and decided to make another one, while he rolled his eyes to your response.

"We said we'll help each other out, right. How am I going to pretend to be your hook up if you're hammered?", Steve had a point though.

And then you decided you would slow down on the alcohol. Maybe later probably. You found a tequila bottle and placed it on the sink as you looked for shot glasses.

He looked at you and shook his head. "Nope. No, no, no. I am not drinking that. Forget it".

You gave him a side smile, Steve still held a grumpy face because that wasn't what he signed up for.

You filled the glasses and went looking for some lime, only to find all of them were already in the trash.

Harrington was still in disbelief. "Fuck, I don't drink that without a lime".

"Oh my gosh, how do you want a reputation if you can't even fucking drink a tequila shot?".

"Well, I don't drink tequila shots, for starters", he retorted.

"If you do it, I'll flash you", you saw his eyes brighten up and he downed it all. He hissed at the taste and chugged on his beer.

You did you shot and closed your eyes. This was probably the strongest tequila you've ever had in your life. You leaned against the sink and took a deep breath.

"Now flash me", Harrington sat on the table, making a "come here" gesture and you burst out into laugh.

"Oh, Steve. I was just kidding", you squeezed his cheek and he frowned. It made you laugh harder.

"You manipulated me!", he shook his head as he watched you still laughing at him.

"Maybe I'll do it, who knows?", you respond.

You opened the fridge looking for a beer, grabbing one bottle and leaving to the backyard holding Steve's hand. He was on your tail still trying to get rid of that horrible taste.

Madonna was blasting outside and you saw Robin dancing with a girl, you couldn't but hold a smile at her.

She was having so much fun and she deserved to. Steve grabbed you by your waist while dancing and you thought it wouldn't be a terrible idea to dance with.

The alcohol started to make its way through your system and you knew it will soon hit your head. But you didn't care at that moment, because you wanted to have fun as well.

He was intently resting his face against your shoulder and you laughed at the way he was playing an affair so perfectly. Or maybe he was already too drunk too.

You spinned around to face him and he definitely had a drunk smile on his face. His hair was kinda messy and he smelled like Calvin Klein and tequila.

"How am I doing?", he asked as he still danced, twirling you around him and you chuckled.

"Better than I expected", you said. "How are you not hitting on girls in this place?".

He had a different look in his eyes as he shrugged his shoulders. Steve sipped the rest of his beer and licked his lips. Suddenly you felt very attracted to him.

"I don't care about that anymore. I just want people to realize I'm different now".

"And yet you still want to rebuild your reputation", you retorted him and he leaned against the wall. One of his knees bent over as he rested his foot there.

"I don't wanna be the bad guy anymore", he seemed upset. Things with Nancy didn't go well either, that was when he realized he needed a change.

"You know what I think?", you asked as you got closer to him. He raised his eyebrows waiting for your answer. "I think you look very pretty right now".

You grabbed him by his colar and he stiffened against your touch. "And you don't seem to be a bad guy at all. But I'll help you fix it". As you finished your line he leaned on to kiss you.

It was an intentional kiss with a mixture of booze and desire. He was obviously very attracted to you as well and made it clear as his tongue touched yours.

He grabbed your hip firmly with one free hand and deepened the kiss, tasting every bit of you. You gritted his tongue between your teeth and heard him groan, amused.

Harrington twisted you around and pulled you against the wall, almost merging into your body as he started to kiss you faster. You were lightheaded over the alcohol and the kiss, nibbling on his lower lip and he rubbed his finger against your skin.

It didn't last too long as you heard someone behind you. "Well, holy fucking shit", the voice said. You and Steve both opened your eyes at the same time, he even loosened his touch against you.

Billy Hargrove stood behind you and laughed along with his friends from the basketball team. "If it isn't King Steve fucking Harrington working his way up to someone's pants".

His words were nasty and you felt Steve growing mad in front of you. He turned his torso around and faced Billy, who was holding a sarcastic smile on his face.

"Just get lost, Hargrove", he said, feeling a little groggy from the tequila and the other one laughed. Everyone around stopped their dancing to stare at them.

"No, you know my favorite hobby is to never leave you alone", Billy stated, sipping on his beer.

You couldn't be more stressed over this, you just wanted to have a good time. You should've known he was going to make an entrance and make someone's life a living hell, and it always had to be Steve.

"Whatever man, I'm not playing your game", Harrington said and faced you. He tried to ignore Billy but the guy just wouldn't stop being an asshole. "I'm sorry you have to go through this".

His words were so soft and warm and it made you feel angry by the way Hargrove just makes someone uncomfortable and it wasn't right. It was just so messed up.

"Why don't you go find someone's pants yourself, hm? You think you're so different from everyone else but you're just another asshole", you pointed at him and he furrowed his brows, still chewing a gum.

"Steve Harrington is a great guy. He's mature enough now to realize he was a jerk and he's not like that anymore. Now, if you'll excuse us, you're disturbing my moment with him, at least he's getting in someone's pants", you finished as you pulled Steve close to you.

On purpose, of course, you made him grab your ass as you gave him a feral kiss and he responded to it the same way as you. Harrington felt his head pound over the stress and the way you pulled him against you.

You heard when people around you booed Billy and cheered, throwing plastic cups over him and the basketball team. You waited until he left to break the kiss, but Steve kept on going, squeezing your ass and moving his tongue too fast.

A moment after that and he had to pull some air into his lungs, laughing. "Shit, you just- that was so wild". He pecked your lips, licking them.

"Think you still want a reputation?".

"Fuck no, doesn't matter if it worked or not", he gave you an honest smile, holding your waist too close to him. You felt that part of your skin become numb.

"That's good for you. You don't need to be so dependen-", he cut you off as he cupped your face and gave you another kiss.

Steve took his time to taste you with a slow kiss, holding you against his firm hands, savoring your taste. You didn't have time to react as he grabbed your hands and dragged you inside the house, going upstairs.

Obviously you knew what was going to happen, and unlike you thought, you were hoping for it. Not because it was Steve, but because the way he's been treating you the whole night.

He didn't stop between groups to show off, he didn't brag about winning another night.

He made a mental note to himself he wouldn't fuck anyone at the party, but the way you were looking at him and the way you reacted to his touch gave him fuel to his body. Maybe it was also because of the alcohol.

He never liked to mix drinks because of the way he tends to act around people, like it would be different this time. He found a spare guest room and closed the door with a kick, hovering over you in the bed.

Harrington hit his knee on the corner of the bed and yelped, making you laugh. "Fuck. Shit".

"Such a smooth way to get into someone's pants", you say as you chuckle, looking at the stare he gave you.

"Shut up or I'll rip your clothes off", he warned before leaning over you, spreading wet kisses on your skin.

"Yes, please", you whine. Steve feels his body shiver by the way you say it and sucked on your neck. If it gets a hickey or not, you will not care about it on the next day.

He took a long time on the crook of your neck, inhaling your perfume and the smell of your skin. His hands were properly rubbing your inner thighs and your core squeezed.

His bulge started to grow and he felt an intense urge of pounding on you all night. But something inside his guts tells him otherwise and he breaks the contact, and you flinch.

"Everything okay?", you squeeze his wrist lightly and he rubs his hand against his silky hair. He hums before sighing heavily.

"Yeah, fuck. Sorry. Shit", you don't understand squat he's complaining about. His dick is pressed against his jeans, almost crying for help.

"Steve?", you coax. He looks at you like he's having trouble fixing his thoughts.

"I don't wanna be this guy. Like, this", he mentions with his index fingers, pointing at him and the bedroom. "God, I wanna make things right. I wanna have sex, not fuck around".

Okay, he's drunk. But this talk is kind of nonsense to you.

"Is this because of what happened? Because I don't give a single fuck", you explain, watching him sit next to you. He shook his head.

"No, not at all. I don't wanna fast forward moments like that, around too many people. Yeah I think it's hot as fuck and I'll probably cum in like three minutes, which is exactly my point here. I wanna appreciate things", he made a speech you were not in the mood to hear because you wanted to suck on him so bad.

But then you realized what he meant. It's supposed to be a fuck and nothing else, and that wasn't what you really wanted. You wanted a relationship, a commitment.

"Maybe this is a drunk talk but I've been feeling like that for a while. And on that note I realized you didn't come after me because it was me, because obviously you would find someone better than me. Eddie would be a nice option", he grasped one hand on your thigh, softly.

"But I look at you and I see you don't care about how people look. And I really dig that", Steve wouldn't shut up and you just wanted to kiss him. But if you laughed he would be offended, so you let him speak. "And now I feel such a douche, I look so needy when I'm drunk. Fuck me".

You laughed at the way he said it and he looked at you, chuckling.

"Steve, I get that. I get you. I don't like it either, but I just thought 'why not?'. And it's okay to not want that. I mean your crotch says otherwise, but I understand it", you joke about his bulge and he leans against the bed, hiding his face with one hand and holding his crotch with the other.

"Fuuuuck. Alright, show's over. I'm definitely going to need a thousand shots after that". Harrington got himself up and walked to the the room. "Care to join me?".

"Hm, I have a better idea", you grab his hand and pull him across the house, making your way outside.

"Where we going?".

"To my house. We're going to listen to some nice and less loud music, eat some snacks and then maybe have proper sex". You stop walking, only to look at him as you speak into his ear. "Without anyone else around".

His face brightens up and he pulls you closer before you can walk again. "You just made your way to my heart instead", he says giving you a soft and gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I wanna pick the songs", Steve stabilished while grabbing your hand, walking on the sidewalk by your side.

You didn't care you left the party with King Steve, per se. He was definitely getting under your pants, but with a meaning. You laughed at the way he said he wanted to pick the music, and then it came to your head that this is the result of a great idea you had, only because someone wouldn't stop being so annoying.