#best friend!jonathan byers

[byersbootyshorts]

hear me out

sub!steve , eddie, or jonathan you choose they’re all adorable, but PLS best friend!character thats also kinda pervy and obsessed but not overly? like maybe you wear a short skirt or something else revealing and you notice they’re kinda 😵‍💫 and help them?? change anything you want though ofc

I decided to write this for Jonathan since he's literally the perviest man alive

Heatwave (J.B.)

There's a heatwave in Hawkins so you decide to wear a skirt for a change. Little do you know it's going to drive Jonathan absolutely insane.

Word Count: 2,536

EXPLICIT CONTENT MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: bestfriend!Jonathan, perv!sub!Jonathan, fem!dom!reader, smut, unprotected sex, outdoor sex, swearing

Leave a request here

Everyday I thank the Duffers for making this man a little perv

Your hair blew around your face as the cold wind beat in the open window of Jonathan’s car. It was the middle of a heatwave in Hawkins and you were feeling its effects. So much so that you had decided to wear a skirt to school that day. Your outfits were usually low effort and extremely casual, but that day you couldn’t bear to wear pants.

So, you decided, since you were wearing a skirt, that you’d make the effort to wear something nicer to school. After throwing clothes all over your room and trying on countless different tops, you’d finally gone with a red and black tennis skirt with fishnets, a black vest top, and a studded belt. Not exactly appropriate for school but you thought you’d get away with it since no one ever noticed you anyway.

But Jonathan noticed. He’d noticed the minute you came out of your house that morning and got into his car. He’d noticed the way the skirt rode up when you sat down. He’d noticed the fishnets clinging to your thighs and how your skin bulged out between each string. He’d noticed…

“Jonathan!” you shouted, practically punching him on the shoulder.

“What?” he said, snapping out of his daze.

“Are you kidding me? You just ran a red light,” you accused him.

“Oh shit, really?” He suddenly realised he’d been thinking about your thighs rather than looking at the road. “Sorry, I was just distracted.”

“Well, focus,” you said, your heart still pounding from Jonathan’s illegal driving. “I’d rather not die today.”

You eventually made it to school with no more near death experiences.

First period math in a boiling hot classroom was not an enjoyable start to your day. Even your teacher was struggling and had resorted to telling you all to do some equations while she fanned herself with a textbook.

“Miss Y/L/N, could you please open that window back there,” the teacher said before you began writing.

You nodded, glad of the suggestion and reached for the window latch. But, of course, it was one of those windows that is literally right at the top of the wall and almost impossible for any average human to reach. You stood on your tip-toes and somehow managed to grab onto the latch and pull it open.

Little did you know that, while you were reaching, your skirt had slid up the back of your leg, revealing most of your thighs. While, the rest of the class had their heads in their books, Jonathan’s eyes were fixed on you. His leg began to bounce rapidly as he started to feel the blood rush to his crotch.

He stared shamefully at your ass, imagining what your thighs would look like perched on top of him with his fingers digging into your skin and your hand around his…

He quickly buried his head in his book when he saw you turn around. He glanced up again, just for a second to find you looking back at him. You smiled at him but you were worried. There was something off about him that day. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but something was definitely bothering him.

“Are you ok?” you were finally able to ask Jonathan at lunch. You were sitting alone on a wall outside the school building. It was more peaceful than the bustling cafeteria. And there was less chance of getting picked on by the jocks.

“What do you mean?” Jonathan said, looking up from his sandwich. He had his schoolbag on his lap for some reason. You were confused as to why but didn’t question it.

“I mean, you’ve been acting really weird today,” you explained.

“I always act weird,” Jonathan mumbled.

“Ok then, weirder than normal,” you sighed exhaustedly. “J, I’m your best friend. Please tell me.”

You innocently placed your hand on Jonathan’s arm and noticed him grip the bag closer to his body. That made you a little suspicious.

“It’s nothing,” he said defensively.

You were about to question him further when the bell rang. Jonathan practically leapt up and said, “Sorry, I’ll talk to you later,” before speeding off.

You were itching to know what the hell was going on with Jonathan and last period couldn’t come fast enough. He was already sitting at his desk when you walked in. When he saw you enter his eyes immediately averted to look out the window. You sat at the desk in front of him and tried your best not to think about him. You’d give him a proper interrogation in the car.

Your last class was English and, unfortunately, the teacher wanted all the students to read out part of the homework you’d been working on. After hearing countless dull essays from tired students, the teacher finally said, “Y/N, please stand and read the first page of your assignment.”

You did as she commanded and began to recite the start of your essay. If you’d asked Jonathan what it was about, he would’ve been stumped. Because here he was, once again, stuck in class, staring at your ass. And this time, there was no way to hide it.

He cursed you for choosing to sit right in front of him. And he cursed the teacher for making you stand up. He tried to listen to your essay but the words blurred into one as an image formed in his mind. If he wasn’t resting his chin on his hand his mouth would’ve been agape as he pictured himself running his hands up and down the soft skin of your thighs as you rode him, softly mumbling his name.

But your weren’t mumbling anymore. You were shouting. “Jonathan!” And you didn’t sound like you. You sounded like an old woman.

“Mr Byers! Pay attention and stand up this instant!” the teacher demanded.

This time his jaw did drop as he realised it was now his turn to read his essay and he’d been zoned out for the past five minutes thinking of you.

You turned around to face him as he got up to speak. His face was bright red. He cleared his throat before beginning to read his essay. You looked up at him from your seat in an attempt to reassure him. While listening to his surprisingly well written essay your eyes dropped for a second. Just a second. But it was long enough to confirm your suspicions.

You lifted your eyes back up to Jonathan’s face, trying to ignore the bulge in his black pants. Thank God he was at the back of the class in a dark corner where hopefully no one else would see. When he sat back down you turned around in your seat again, suddenly unable to look him in the eye.

The class sprang out of their seats when, at last, the final bell rang. You and Jonathan left the classroom in silence. As you walked down the busy corridor your mind was racing. You had to address the situation, right? But how? By the time you reached Jonathan’s car you had a plan.

“Give me the keys,” you ordered him, standing in front of the driver side door.

“What? Why?” Jonathan replied, confused.

“We’re going somewhere,” you answered vaguely.

Jonathan gave you a sceptical look but slowly handed over the keys.

There was little conversation as you drove Jonathan where you wanted to go. The closer you got to your destination, the more confused he got.

“Are we going to my house?” he asked.

“Not quite,” you responded.

You parked the car at the edge of the forest that surrounded the Byers’ house and gave Jonathan the nod to get out of the car.

“Oh,” Jonathan sighed in relief when he realised where you were taking him. It was a place you’d discovered a long time ago and now used as a place to hang out. A misshapen tree that bent over to form a perfect little bench. The leaf covered branches of the tree hung down, creating a dome over the bench. It was like your own personal little haven where you and Jonathan would come when you wanted to get away from the bullies of Hawkins.

“Why are we here?” Jonathan questioned you when you reached the tree.

You didn’t say anything until you were both sat on its crusting bark.

“Because we need to talk,” you replied, your expression turning serious as you stared deep into Jonathan’s eyes. He shifted his legs nervously, the close proximity between your face and his causing his pants to swell for the fourth time that day.

“Don’t try to hide it,” you said.

“Hide what?”

“You know what,” you whispered, raising your eyebrow.

Jonathan swallowed hard. He didn’t know what to say.

“I assume this is why you’ve been acting weird all day,” you said.

He nodded. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it,” he said shakily. “I don’t know why this is happening.”

“I do.” You grabbed Jonathan’s hand and placed it on your thigh. “It’s because of this. It’s because you’ve never seen me wear anything other than jeans. It’s because you haven’t been able to stop staring at my ass all day.”

Jonathan let out a quivering breath.

“I didn’t know my best friend was a little pervert,” you smirked.

“I’m sorry,” Jonathan repeated.

“No, J, it’s ok,” you assured him. “I’m trying to tell you that I don’t mind. You’re a guy. These things happen.”

“It’s just, you’ve never worn something like that before. I’m s-,”

“If you apologise one more time I’m leaving,” you said, covering Jonathan’s mouth with your hand.

You were silent for a few seconds, staring into each other’s eyes. Then, you moved your hand down from Jonathan’s lips so you were holding his chin between your finger and thumb. You pulled his face forward, forcing your lips to connect. Jonathan didn’t even flinch when you kissed him. Immediately he melted into your body and begged your mouth to open with his tongue.

But you didn’t grant him access just yet. You pulled your lips away and rested your forehead on his.

“You want some help with this?” you mumbled, placing your hand on his inner thigh.

Jonathan nodded eagerly and started to pull you on top of him.

“Ok, slow down,” you chuckled. You got up from the tree branch and were about to pull off your fishnets when Jonathan stopped you.

“No,” he said quietly, grabbing your hand. “Can you keep them on please?”

“Shit, you really are a little creep, aren’t you?” you smirked.

Jonathan’s face flushed as he fumbled with his belt. He almost sobbed when his dick was finally released from his tight pants.

You got on his lap, knees on either side of his thighs, and hovered above his dick.

“You must be so desperate if you’ve been like this all day,” you said, running you hand through his hair. He let out a quiet whimper in response.

“You sure you want me to help you with this?”

“Yes, yes please,” Jonathan whispered, wrapping his hands around your waist.

You pulled your fishnets and underwear to the side. Jonathan let out a loud moan as you guided him inside you.

“Shh, J,” you hushed him. “We may be in the middle of nowhere but sound travels.”

“Sorry,” Jonathan mumbled.

“And what did I say about apologising?”

This time he stayed quiet.

Your thrusts were slow and deep. Jonathan’s fingers dug into your sides as he willed you to pick up your pace.

“Faster, please,” he begged.

So, instead, you stopped. You sat on his dick, taking all of it inside you. Jonathan whined at the lack of movement. You ignored him.

“You know, it’s really misogynistic of you to only find me attractive when you can look up my skirt,” you said, wanting to watch him squirm for just a bit longer.

“I find you attractive all the time,” Jonathan replied, his eyes shut in concentration.

“Well, you’re not getting a boner every day, so obviously you don’t.”

“Do you have any idea how difficult it is to look at you every fucking day and not get hard,” Jonathan explained. “The only thing that keeps me going is the fact that when I go home I can…”

Jonathan stopped, realising he had revealed too much.

“You can what?” you asked.

“Nothing,” he said quietly.

“Jonathan,” you said more sternly, staring daggers into his eyes. “You can what?”

Jonathan started to speak but he was too quiet.

“Speak up or I’m leaving you out here and you can sort out your little situation by yourself.”

That was one thing Jonathan didn’t want, so he raised his voice.

“I have photos of you,” he began. “And I, uh-,”

“Wait, photos? What photos?” you demanded.

“Nothing creepy, I swear.” You couldn’t tell if Jonathan’s face was red with embarrassment or the heat. “It’s photos that you let me take of you for art class last year.”

“Ok,” you said. You could feel him twitching. “And what do you do with these photos?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

He looked up at you with pleading eyes. You felt his breathing get faster.

“You don’t wanna know,” he finally said.

“Oh, I think I do,” you smiled, beginning to roll your hips back and forth again just thinking about it.

Just that slight movement set Jonathan off again. He couldn’t stop the grunts and whimpers escaping his lips. You thought if you couldn’t stop him from making noise, you could at least muffle it.

You pressed your lips against his again, this time allowing your tongues to intertwine.

“Y/N,” Jonathan groaned desperately into your open mouth.

He was practically ripping your shirt with his hands so you started to increase your speed. Now you were kissing him to hold back your own moans, as well as his.

You reached up to grab one of the tree branches behind Jonathan’s head as you started to feel your stomach tighten.

“Do you want to cum, J?” you asked, pulling away from his lips.

“Yes, so bad,” he whined. “Please, can I?”

You nodded and almost immediately you felt Jonathan spill out inside you. He threw his head back and moaned your name louder than before. But you were too tied up in your own high to tell him to be quiet.

When you eventually stopped your movements the two of you were out of breath and sweating. The sun was beating down on you through the trees, wiping any energy you had left.

You climbed off Jonathan’s lap, adjusted your underwear and sat back down on the tree branch. Jonathan’s hands shook violently as he attempted to do up his pants.

You both sat, staring up at the sky, neither one of your daring to speak. Until Jonathan broke the silence.

“Is this going to be really awkward now?” he asked timidly.

“I don’t see why it should be,” you responded, turning to face him.

A small smile spread across Jonathan’s face. “So we’re still good for movie night on Friday then,” he said.

“Uh-huh,” you replied, squeezing his leg. “I’ll even wear a skirt if you want.”

[alisaint]

[pileofboneswrites]

PRETTY BOY_headcanons.strangerthings

general eddie munson headcanons.

SUMMARY — some of my eddie headcanons :)

MASTERLIST | NEXT

eddie is adhd personified

will start 16 tasks then realize he didn't finish the first one so he will go back and then turn around and do the same thing until he's finished them all

will make himself something to eat or drink, and then go back to the livingroom/his room and get hungry/thirsty only to find thr drink or snack waiting for him because he forgot it the first time

puts things down and then 'loses' them constantly!! it's literally in front of your face pretty boy!!!

obsessed with music, and absolutely hates silence

he literally cannot function if there's silence

cleaning the kitchen? he's blasting metallica. in the shower? black sabbath on full volume and you better believe he's doing every (air) guitar solo, and singing along the whole time. getting ready for bed/falling alseep? his favourite dio album is turned down low enough it won't bother wayne, but it's playing until he either passes out and it clicks off, or he's putting on another album

isn't a music genre snob but in the same breath will tell you he'd rather die than listen to country music

despite his stance on country music, loves willy nelson and johnny cash (because who doesn't???)

loves animals and would kill if he caught someone abusing them

cries watching kitty/puppy videos, because they're so damn innocent and too good for humanity and this world

he physically cannot watch those ads about abused animals, will turn the tv off or leave the room (will still get misty eyed just thinking about the poor babies)

will steal animals he sees being mistreated, and will either beg wayne to let him keep them or rehome them to somewhere they'll be loved and properly cared for (he goes and visits them periodically too)

super flirty with people, especially if you're on the shyer side, or are an old lady

if he notices you're shy/insecure he'll lay it on thick (loves seeing people blush/get flustered)

loves old ladies, like grandma's, always tells them they don't look old enough to have children let alone grandchildren or gasp, great grandchildren

gets easily flustered when people flirt with him

he's a natural flirt, unless someone flirts first/or flirts back – then his brain short circuits and he's completely thrown off his game

very gentlemanly

holds open doors for everyone, doesn't matter if you're a man, woman, etc, also doesn't matter how far from the door you are, he will hold it if he sees you coming in his direction — respects wait staff, janitors, etc (always leaves a good tip because people suck, and wait staff deserve to be treated well and tipping is essential!!!)

is a good cook/terrible baker

loves to try new recipes, loves experimenting with his cooking, wayne taught him the basics and then eddie started cooking super all the time for them, making sure wayne was well fed

also can make delicious food out of things you would never expect!!

do not try the cookies/muffins/cupcakes/etc. just don't he doesn't realize that baking soda and baking powder are different things!!!! he will make you the saltiest baked goods you've ever tried!!!

looks like a black cat is infact a golden retriever

he is a silly, goofy, happy boy!! he likes meeting new people, making new friends, (also thinks hes a lap dog)

has zero spatial awareness

he flings his hands/arms around like there's no one else on the planet often results in accidentally hitting someone or almost hitting someone

walks into things in his eyeline that he can see are coming closer, or tries to dodge things when they get close enough instead of just moving over half an inch

bumps his head, stubs his toes a lot, trips or almost trips like once an hour

will bump into your if you're walking beside him, he has a bad habit of nearly shoving people into walls because of how close he gets

apologizes to inanimate objects that he bumps into on the regular

taught himself to play the guitar, drums and piano

when he was a kid his grandparents had a little standing piano in their living room and he'd mess around with it, and then he heard a song on the radio he really liked that had a piano in it so he sat down and over christmas break he taught himself how to play the song, and then how to play some more songs — he only ever seeks out a piano when he's sad now

wayne got him a kid sized drum set for christmas one year, and he played with it until it ultimately broke apart — he taught gareth to play drums

his love of playing guitar came from his father, who before and abandoning eddie taught him a couple chords, and gave him his first guitar — it was an acoustic but it was the only good gift his father ever gave him

cannot stay still

fidgets with his rings, taps his foot, clicks pens (until everyone around his is annoyed), picks at peeling paint, stickers, etc, doodles on himself constantly

has hearing loss from how loud he plays his music + not wearing ear protection at band practices

its mostly because of how loud he cranks his music in the van, never realizes how bad it is until he gets in in the morning for work/school and nearly deafens himself but also scares himself so bad that sometimes he dumps his coffee all over the place

has a terrible memory

writes lists/important 'to do's' on the top of his hand/wrist because he always forgets something, he always has something written down — and despite this still forgets

reuses jokes that aren't that funny but will die laughing upon every delivery

walks into hell fire weaing the same shirt as every friday session and will say "oh that's embarrassing, we've all worn the same thing" ((also not my head canon but it's so funny and i can't stop thinking about it so i had to add it))

is always reading something

be it a horror novel, a dnd manual, something someone recommended to him, he always has a book on/with him

loves thunderstorms and rain

he finds it calming, the rhythmic beating of the rain hitting the metal of the trailer roof, a kind of music in its own right

he likes to sit in the doorway and watch as it pours down, just sitting there, feeling the mist of cool water that sprays up

under absolutely no circumstances does he fuck with porcelain dolls

their eyes are creepy and they follow you, 'nough said

loves halloween more than any other holiday

dresses up every year with zero regard for what anyone thinks, loves to scare kids, always has the most elaborate set up so that he can sit out in the yard and watch/be apart of the scaring

is a lover

doesn't really have many preferences for a partner, isn't really set on a specific gender, body type, age, etc

i'm of the belief that eddie would love you for loving him

terrible at fighting

he prefers not to fight, which is why he wears rings, so if he has to at least that might get them to back off

so good at gift giving

he remembers that one thing you mentioned that one time like nine years ago and anytime he sees something that reminds him of you he gets it

prefers to make gifts for people, and always gets them something they love/need

[strawberrybyers]

flashback scene not of mike and will at the swing set because we already know about that but a flashback scene that shows a moment between them that solidifies they have that bond no one else has. a flashback scene that makes the audience aware of “oh mike’s feelings have always been there”. because remember they were only 12 in s1… and they’re wanting an 8 year old mike and will. i don’t need a swing set flashback scene. i need a “lonnie was being a piece of shit so joyce sent jonathan and will to go have a sleepover at the wheelers for the night so all 3 boys are in mike’s room or in the basement and mike wakes up to will crying so he comforts him which once again proves how in tune mike is to wanting to comfort and protect will and from that night on they both knew they’d forever be in each other’s lives” scene

[jonathanbyersphd]

No cause if you had told me in s1 that for the penultimate season of stranger things Jonathan would just be driving back and forth between 3 states looking for El while Mike & Will have weird sexual tension in the backseat I would NOT have believed you

[smeddiemunson]

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

The Harrington house is big and it’s nice to look at, or it would be if Gareth was into the boring minimalist style, but there’s no warmth to it.

That’s all he could notice while he was pulling off his jeans and neatly folding them up to place on the top of a chest of draws in a guest bedroom. The walls are white and the accents a single shade of brown. Even Gareth’s oppressively suburban home had more character than this.

And it just didn’t seem to fit with Steve. Steve, in Gareth’s admittedly limited understanding of him, was more suited to a smaller but still nice house, with appliances that made funny noises if they weren’t used the right way, and was always full of people. A house that had character built into its very foundations.

He met Jeff and Grant back in the kitchen, trying his hardest not to stare too long at the single family portrait hung at the end of the hallway. Jeff was wearing red shorts and Grant was wearing blue ones. It seemed that only Gareth got the memo about wearing black and committing to the Not-Cult Cult aesthetic.

“What’s the plan then, Gare-Bear?” Jeff asked as Gareth sidled up next to them.

Gareth grabbed a can off the side, it was fresh out of the fridge and had condensation trickling down the sides. He assumed it was alright to take it. “I’m gonna talk to Buckley, feel out how to go about this.”

“And what should we do?” Grant asked.

“Make sure Eddie doesn’t do anything stupid?”

Grant scoffed. “Dude, you’ve met him, be serious.”

“I am!” Gareth replied. “I want this to work out for them and that means keeping Eddie’s foot out of his mouth.”

They all paused to remember the many, many times that Eddie’s inability to shut up had gotten them in trouble. He was great at talking himself out of trouble as well, but it was always preferable to not be in trouble in the first place. 

“So make sure Eddie doesn’t say something stupid before he can confess his love and get a pass for all the stupid shit he says?” 

Gareth allowed himself to chuckle. “Yeah, something like that.”

He led them all back out to the garden, cracking open the can as he went. The cold liquid felt good sliding down his throat; it wasn’t quite the peak of the summer and it was only going to get hotter, but Gareth didn’t think there was much point in not enjoying the smaller things in life. 

Eddie was perched on the edge of the pool, kicking his feet gently where they were submerged in the water, as he spoke to Steve. Steve who was in the pool but had pulled himself out enough to rest his crossed arms on the poolside and use them as a pillow for his head. They looked like they belonged in a movie; so caught up in one another that they didn’t react to the screaming from the others playing chicken (Nancy on Jonathan’s shoulders and Robin on Argyle’s). 

Gareth was shocked to see the way Steve was looking at him. He knew Steve was into Eddie, that much was obvious, but until that moment he had just thought it was a little crush.

This put a bit of a spanner in the works of his original plan of getting everyone to play enough party games until they could get Steve and Eddie together in seven minutes in heaven.

“Eddie!” Jeff shouted, “Did you smoke all the weed while we were getting changed?”

Eddie gasped dramatically, clutching at his heart. “Would I ever do that to you Jeffy?” 

“Yes,” Jeff deadpanned. 

Steve laughed delightedly, bumping Eddie in the knee with his elbow. 

“Fine, fine,” Eddie threw his hands up in surrender. “Stevie said we aren’t allowed to smoke and swim so we didn’t light it.”

“I don’t want you to drown,” Steve said quietly, a haunted look crossing over his face that left as quickly as it came. 

Eddie reached out to squeeze his shoulder, something unsaid passing between them. “I’m still here.” 

Steve nodded, then shook his head with a small smile, as if he knew he was being silly. 

Gareth shared a glance with his band mates, Eddie pointedly avoiding it. Another thing that would never be explained to them.

Luckily the game of chicken came to an end with Robin crashing down into the water, her legs pulling Argyle with her, to the tune of Nancy and Jonathan yelling in triumph to break Steve out of whatever spiral he’d fallen into.

Steve turned towards them with a smile. He patted Eddie’s hand where it was still on his shoulder then pushed off from the wall to join his friends, calling for his turn. 

Eddie’s hand hovered in the air for a second before falling back down to his side. 

Robin broke off from the group, stating her intention to grab another drink as she furiously tried to push her now wet hair out of her eyes. Argyle eagerly called for Steve to go against Nancy this time.

Gareth nodded to Jeff and Grant. “Go cheer him up. I hate it when he looks like a kicked puppy.”

“Guy doesn’t know what he has with those eyes, I swear,” Jeff mumbled as he and Grant moved to sit either side of Eddie, both bumping shoulders with him.

Gareth waited until Robin was digging through the cooler and muttering to herself to join her. 

She jumped slightly as she turned away from the cooler and realised that Gareth was there, evidently having not heard him approach. 

“Buckley,” He greeted. 

“Emerson.”

Gareth winced. This wasn’t supposed to be some sort of Mexican standoff. So he changed angles. 

“Eddie says you know about him.” 

Robin’s features softened. “Yeah and I know you’re protecting your friend, but I promise I will never ever do anything to hurt him. None of us will.|” 

Gareth smiled. “I wasn’t worried about that.” 

“So what can I help you with?” 

Gareth rubbed his hands over his face. He was suddenly faced with no idea how to word his questions. 

“Have you noticed that Eddie has a crush?” 

Robin laughed loudly, waving away the bemused glances thrown her way from the pool. “Yeah, I have. I’ve noticed Steve’s too because I know that’s going to be your next question. They’re kinda unbearable to be around sometimes.” 

“Oh,” Gareth chuckled, a weight lifted off his shoulders. “Good.” 

“Why? Are you planning something?” She sat forward, a manic smile on her face and clutching her can so hard there were small dents in the aluminium from her fingers. 

“I was thinking seven minutes in heaven but...” he sighed. “They’re too into each other to have their moment be during a stupid game.” 

“You really care about Eddie, don’t you?” Robin asked gently. 

Gareth narrowed his eyes on her. “Of course I do, he’s my best friend.” 

Robin held her hands up in surrender. “I’m not judging you. I feel the same way about Steve.” 

“Good. That’s good” 

They both fell quiet as they watched their friends. Steve, on Argyle’s shoulders, laughing at Nancy and Jonathan arguing as they strategised. Eddie was squashed between Jeff and Grant, batting on their chests to release him. If it weren’t for his hair not being tied back, Gareth knew he would have thrown himself into the pool to escape. He knew Jeff and Grant knew that as well.

“So what are we going to do?” Gareth asked.

“I don’t know,” Robin said. “But we’ll figure something out.” 

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the pool. Gareth and Eddie made a great team for the chicken tournament, but Argyle won the biggest splash competition they got going. It was funny to just act like teenagers, no school to worry about or crazy religious types out on witch hunts. 

Steve handed them all towels as the sun began to go down. Their fingertips wrinkled and dry as Eddie finally got to light the joints to pass around. They laughed and shared stories; Gareth even got to share his favourite about Eddie calling him from a phone booth in the middle of the night so Gareth could steal his mom’s car to go get him since his plan to hitchhike his way home failed. 

At some point, pizza was ordered while they lazed around. The joints had long since been smoked down to their cherry and discarded on the floor to clean up later when they were less drunk or high. Steve had told them not to worry about it.

Gareth spent his time watching Steve and Eddie pass tapes back and forth, heads leant close as they discussed the music on them, occasionally stopping the tape playing so they could switch it out for whatever song they were agreeing or disagreeing about. He made eye contact with Robin who just smiled gently, so fond of her friends. If he was able to see himself, her look was probably reflected on his own face.

The doorbell rang, heard out in the yard only because Steve’s parents had a device installed that rang a bell outside in case they weren’t inside to be able to hear the actual doorbell. 

Steve jumped up to get it. 

“Eddie go help him,” Robin said, pushing her toes into Eddie’s arm in a half hearted shove. 

“Stevie’s got it,” Eddie moaned, clearly not wanting to move from his spot. 

Robin shared a conspiratorial grin with Nancy, then both chorused, “Don’t ya, big boy.” 

Jonathan and Argyle looked just as confused as Gareth felt. He never got the full story from Eddie about what happened over spring break, Eddie was alive and that was enough for him, but sometimes he wished he could know just so he understood what the fuck was going on. 

Eddie flushed bright red all over his body. “Shut up,” he hissed. But it was evidently enough to get him to jump and follow Steve into the house.

Before Gareth could even attempt to ask about it, Nancy swung her legs around off the sun lounger and clasped her hands together.

“So,” She said as she pushed her sunglasses up into her hair. “We all saw that right?”

“Saw what?” Robin squeaked.

Gareth didn’t bury his face in his hands at her lack of subtlety.

“Steve and Eddie are very obviously flirting with each other,” Nancy said slowly, deliberately.

Jonathan hummed in agreement. “Yeah, it’s not the first time either.”

Robin opened and closed her mouth like a fish as she tried to come up with something to say. Obviously she couldn’t say anything that would out her best friend, but if she denied being able to see it then she ran the risk of being committed to a mental institution. She looked scared.

“And is that a problem, Wheeler?”

Gareth couldn’t be sure where the venom in his voice came from, he was sure that Nancy Wheeler was a nicer girl than her pinched features sometimes made her appear, but seeing Robin flounder and the thought of Eddie facing even more bullshit  than he already had made something protective flare to life inside of him. 

Nancy sniffed disdainfully. “Obviously not. I would die for those two, I just want them to be happy.”

A tense silence fell over them. 

“They don’t know that we know,” Robin said quietly.

“So we can’t be obvious,” Jonathan replied. “Doesn’t mean we can’t encourage them in the right direction.”

Argyle, his eyes trained on the stereo still playing a Queen song, a thoughtful look on his face that looked completely alien. He turned to where Gareth, Jeff and Grant were all sitting together on the same sun lounger. “You’re in a band right?”

Shit. Argyle was right. Gareth mentally cursed himself for not thinking of it sooner. Eddie had learnt Steve’s favourite song, they were going to play Steve’s favourite song as soon as they got it down; the drunks that usually watch them would probably appreciate something more country-rock than metal. 

“Argyle, you’re a genius.” 

(Part 5 (final))

[fastcardotmp3]

some mild dot lore for context but I had a late night student radio show with my best friend when I was in college and I just think that Robin and Steve deserve to have the same

they have 2-3 listeners on average, they each pick half the songs for the show each week which means the line-up is inconsistent at best, they spend the breaks telling each other about their weeks because mostly they started this as an excuse to have built in time to hang out, Jonathan regularly calls in whenever they try to actually talk about music because he really needs them to know that that's not true actually and this is why (they know it's not true, it's just fun to have Jonathan on air with them, he gets so exasperated and it's cute)

sometimes Eddie lays on the couch in the studio while they're on air and will either chime in on their conversations even though he doesn't have a microphone or fall dead asleep to the point of snoring with no in-between

sometimes Steve and Robin bring in some new recipe Argyle tried out and eat and review it on air, the results of which usually end up with them deciding the food is delicious and Robin reminding their listeners that mayonnaise is disgusting even if there was no mayonnaise involved

they finish at 1AM on Sunday mornings and Nancy picks them up so they don't have to walk home from the station in the dark and Robin always gets shotgun and Steve puts his feet up on the seat in the back even when Eddie is also there and they meet Jonathan and Argyle at the 24hr diner off-campus and treat their trauma-induced insomnia like a ritual of friendship instead of a hindrance to their lives and it's good

messy and weird and codependent and good

[thaliagracesgf]

Chapter Three: Holly, Jolly

wc: 5.7k

divider from @saradika-graphics, images from pinterest

general CWs, not necessarily all in this chapter: drinking, alcoholism, drug abuse, smoking, cancer, hopper being kind of a deadbeat, usual canon violence. not entirely proofread.

masterlist (incl. series)

a/n: wow. this chapter took so much out of me. it was intense. it’s been in progress for over a month (thank you for bearing with me! i was on vacation!) and i had a lot of important scenes in it that i wanted to do well. truly what got me through the last bit was chapter one of season four of @stevie-petey’s “come home” coming out last night (which you should go read, if you haven’t yet!). i hope you enjoy this!

You are absolutely fucking dead when you wake up. “Tina,” you groan. “Does your head also feel like a million nails are being drilled into it?” You look around her room, feeling absolutely attacked by the pink and the sparkles that you’ve seen a trillion times before. 

“Yes! How did you know?” She gasps sleepily, and you’re so sure she’s still drunk. “Owwww,” she moans, “that hurt.” 

“What, speaking?” you reply, and yes, it really does hurt. “Fuck me, I need to either drop dead right now or someone needs to feed me, like, all the food in Hawkins.”

“Ughhhhh,” she responds, your faces still in your pillows. “That sounds so good.” 

“We have to get up.”

“No, no no no no no no,” she cries. “We can skip today. Can we skip today?” 

“You can knock yourself out. My dad would actually lock me in jail, probably.” You don’t let yourself fall back asleep, because if you do, you know for a fact that you will not wake up again in time for class. You shuffle painfully to the edge of the bed, swinging your legs off as you continue to lay down, and eventually muster up the courage and strength to sit upright. The pain in your head gets a million bajillion times worse, and you moan again. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t do what I just did. It was so bad.” 

“I’ll suffocate you if you suffocate me,” Tina mumbles. “Then we definitely don’t have to go to school.” 

“I really, really like that plan.” You push yourself to your feet, fighting through the throbbing pain that feels like your brain is too big for your skull, and walk the two steps to your duffel bag before collapsing on the floor again. 

“I’m wearing your jeans,” you mumble to her. “I can’t wear my red pants two days in a row.”

“Wonderful,” she responds. You’re pretty sure she’s asleep again. You pull on a sweatshirt you’ve had since second grade—you can’t even remember where it came from at this point. 

You make it to school alive, by some miracle. And you definitely still look like a corpse when you walk into class, taking your seat behind Nancy. The bell rings, and your head starts to throb again. You take note of her concerned looking face, and assume she must be suffering similarly. At least you aren’t alone. 

That is, until she leans forward in her desk, “Hey Ally,” she gets the girl’s attention. “Where’s Barb?” 

“Um, shouldn’t you know?” the girl responds, turning back around.

“You haven’t seen her, anywhere?” Nancy continues. “At all?” 

Ally shakes her head, and Nancy slouches back in her chair, noticing you. Before she can ask you, you shake your head, biting your lip. This cannot be good. You don’t know Barb well, but she definitely doesn’t seem like the type to skip. 

You look ahead, forcing yourself to pay at least some attention to class, because you cannot for the life of you figure out the difference between antiderivatives and integrals, but you’re still running through possibilities of how or when Barb could have left Steve’s last night in your head.

You walk into the cafeteria, making your way over to your table in a headache-induced haze. You almost don’t notice the interesting look Steve gives you as you sit down, but you can’t figure out what it means. You manage to drown out a bit of the conversation as you think about Barb, Will, your Dad, Will, your grades, your headache, until Tommy raises his voice. 

“That’s why science doesn’t make any damn sense to me,” he says with food in his mouth, gesturing at Carol’s foot up on the table. It’s got some nasty thing on the ankle, and she’s decided that the best place to examine it is your lunch table. It’s making you nauseous the more you see it. You’re trying to avoid looking, but that’s only so possible when it’s next to your applesauce. 

“Nothing makes sense to you, dude,” you roll your eyes, and Steve snorts. 

“I swear, look at this. It’s totally frostbite,” Carol whines. 

Steve passes his applesauce over to Tommy, who thanks him before returning to his girlfriend. “It’s a heated pool,” he says dismissively.

“Well if it’s not frostbite, then what is it?” 

“Ugh,” Steve interrupts. “I don’t care what it is, it’s disgusting! Get it off the table. We’re eating here.” 

“What he said,” you add. 

Tommy touches it with his spoon, and Carol smacks him away. Much to the rest of your disgust, he continues to use the spoon for his applesauce. 

“Hey Tommy,” Nancy cuts in, trying and failing to ignore the spoon disaster, and narrowing her eyes. “When you left, did you see Barb?” 

“What?” 

“Barbara. She’s not here today.” 

“I seriously have no idea who you’re talking about,” Tommy snickers, and you roll your eyes, leaning back in your chair as he leans across the table. You’re trying to keep as far a distance between yourself and that spoon as possible. 

“Come on, don’t be an ass, man,” Steve says. “Did you… Did you see her leave last night or not?” He doesn’t actually look all that concerned with what Tommy has to say. 

“No. She was gone when we left,” Tommy says, as though he’s annoyed at Nancy and she’s asked him a million times. 

“Probably couldn’t stand listening to all that moaning,” Carol adds. The pair of them start mocking Nancy, loudly, turning heads in the cafeteria. You kick her across the table.

“Come on, that’s so disgusting, guys.” 

“You say that because you got out of there, Y/N!” she laughs. “It was bad.” 

“Can you… can you just cut it out?” You glare at her, and she gives you a puzzling look back, smirking at you. 

Your friend is trying to hide his smile, though. And it’s extremely troubling for you. Why are all your friends turning into extra special assholes this week? 

“Listen…” he turns to Nancy, not doing anything about how uncomfortable she looks as Tommy and Carol die of laughter across from them. “I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably just… she’s probably just, like, skipping, or something.” 

“Yeah.” Nancy replies, totally unconvinced. You catch her eye. “Yeah, probably.” 

You sit on the brick ledge just outside after Chem as Nancy tries to call Barb’s mom. You made the suggestion after class, after watching her skittish looks and jittery vibe for an hour, and offered to come with her. Now you fiddle with the fraying edge of your hoodie as she stands by the phone. 

The line rings. “Come on, come on, come on…” Nancy mutters.

You’re not sure what to do with your eyes, whether you seem uninterested and bored if you stare at the ground or a creep if you watch or check up on her as she calls. As you kick a rock on the pavement, you think about driving by Dustin and the Sinclairs’ houses tonight. You realize you haven’t seen the boys since Will went missing. Since you let him go home on his own. You blink back sudden tears in your eyes. You’ve been trying not to vocalize it in your mind, knowing it would send you over the edge, but you know Will’s disappearance is your fault. If you had just driven him the rest of the way, seen that Jonathan had eyes on him before taking off…

“Hello?” You startle at the faint voice of a woman who must be Barb’s mom through the phone. 

“Hi!” Nancy also jumps. “Hi, uh, Ms. Holland, it’s Nancy.” 

“Oh, Nancy, how are you?” the muffled voice returns. 

“Good… I’m good. Um, I was just wondering, is, uh, is Barb there?” her voice sounds a little higher than normal. 

“Mmm… no…” you can’t hear the rest of the sentence, but Nancy winces, so you assume she’s not there. A growing pit makes you sick to your stomach. Are you cursed? Are people you sort of hang out with doomed to go missing? Are you being incredibly narcissistic by thinking about that right now instead of Will and Barbara, their families? 

“But she did come home, right? After the vigil?” You can’t hear Ms. Holland anymore over a ringing in your ears. 

“Right. Yes. She did, sorry. I meant, did she come home this morning? I think she left some textbooks and she was gonna go pick them up.” 

“Oh, um, no, I haven’t seen her,” Ms. Holland’s voice comes back through. You fiddle with the edges of a food drive poster on the side of the phone box. 

“Do— do you know what? I just remembered… she’s at the library.” Nancy is not doing a great job at this, you hate to say it. You make eye contact with some sort of leopard or cheetah on a Battle of the Bands flier, and wonder briefly if Eddie Munson is doing it. You can hear his fucking guitar every single night at home. There was a point when you thought about starting a band together, when you were in fifth grade, but your music tastes were completely different. You argued for hours on what your band’s sound would be before finally calling it quits. You sort of drifted from Eddie, after that. He always thought you were trying too hard to fit in around Steve and Tina, trying to convince you to hang out with kids “like you.” I.e.: other poor kids.

“Yeah. Yeah, I will,” Nancy responds to something you missed. “Sorry to bother you.” She hangs up the phone and sighs. You bite your lip again, and the end of school bell rings. You grab her hand, in an attempt to comfort her, you guess, and the two of you start walking up to the parking lot. 

The pit in your stomach grows again when you see your friends at the top of the hill, leaning on what you recognize as Jonathan Byers’ car. Although, even if you didn’t know the car, you’d probably have been able to figure it out. Jonathan shuffles uncomfortably near them; his presence, especially, is the concerning part. Steve, Tommy, and Carol are rifling through some papers, and you hear Steve’s voice, sounding harsher than usual.

“No.” He rolls one and waves it at Jonathan. “No, this is called stalking.” 

“What?” You exclaim, and their heads turn to you and Nancy as you come up the slope. 

“What’s going on?” Nancy asks, a little hesitantly, observing Jonathan and furrowing her brows.

“Here’re the starring ladies,” Tommy jeers. 

“What?” Nancy adjusts her bag. 

“Jonathan?” you can see Steve grit his teeth as you address the other boy. You’re about to stop yourself and start on him when Carol interrupts. 

“This creep was spying on us last night,” Carol looks a little too happy to illuminate the pair of you. “He was probably gonna save these for later.” She passes you photo sheets, and the picture she passes you might honestly surpass all of the shitty things that have happened to you this week. It’s you, sitting on the edge of the pool, lifting your arms in the air as you shotgun a beer. 

Your red bikini top, here in black and white, is pushing up your chest, and to be honest, your first thought is that it’s a great photo of your boobs before you remember why it exists, and the world seems to come crashing down on your shoulders. 

Your headache worsens, and the tears you’ve been holding back throughout the day threaten dangerously to spill over, and you have to fight not to let them. You’re not going to cry in front of Tommy and Carol, and you don’t think you want to cry in front of Jonathan Byers right now, either. 

You glance at Nancy’s, and it’s somehow worse. It’s her, from the back, at least, pulling her shirt off in the window you know is Steve’s room. It’s sick. You knew they had sex last night. Jonathan Byers is a creep. You knew he liked her. You never want to see Jonathan Byers again in your life. You knew it was going to happen. You think you’re going to throw up, or cry, or both. 

“See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but…” Steve starts, clicking his tongue, “man, that’s the thing about perverts. It’s hardwired into them.” He ruffles Jonathan’s collar. He looks like a total douche. You don’t know what’s going on right now, what you’re thinking. You can’t breathe. “You know, they just can’t help themselves.” He tears up the photos left in his hands, and Tommy laughs. Nicole, the girl you’ve really only just noticed, crosses her arms smugly. You want to yell at her, of all people, right now. Why the hell is she here? Why is she pretending she cares about any of you, any of your friends? Who gave her the right to look at Jonathan the way she is? You want to slap her. 

“So… we’ll just have to take away his toy.” 

For some reason, that’s what snaps you back to reality. “No!” You think you shout but it comes out as a murmur. Steve looks at you incredulously, and Tommy and Carol snicker. 

“Steve…” Nancy starts. 

“No, please, not the camera,” Jonathan almost begs. It’s pathetic. You hate him. So much. He moves for the camera, and Tommy blocks him. 

“No, no, wait, wait,” he holds out his hand. “Tommy, Tommy.” The other boy backs off, and Steve turns from Jonathan to look at you. “Are you serious, Hopper?” There’s so much in the way he says it. You can read his voice like the back of your hand, now, after ten years of being his best friend. You hear him asking you what the hell has come over you, why you’re taking this pervert’s side. 

Then he addresses Jonathan again. “To be honest, man, you’ve got some balls, taking these of her.” Your heart is beating out of its chest, and the ringing is coming back around you. “I mean, do you know who her dad is?” 

“Steve,” you warn. 

“Oh,” he clicks his tongue again. “That’s my bad. I guess you’ve been spending a lot of time around him lately, huh?” 

“Steve!” You shout. 

“It’s okay,” he holds his hand out at you for a second, offering the camera out to Jonathan. “Here you go, man.” He reaches for it, but Steve drops it on the pavement, and you watch as the lens, and probably all the machinery you don’t understand inside, shatters. 

“Steve!” You cry out as it happens. You don’t really know what else to say. 

Will bought him that camera. Will bought him that camera. Will bought him that camera. 

“Y/N, do you have any quarters?” Lucas’s voice ringing in your head. “Will’s got nothing, he’s totally saving everything for this dumb Christmas present for his brother.” 

Steve Harrington is a rich asshole, and you don’t know why you ever thought he could be a good friend. 

The realization hits you like a million bricks, and you bend down to desperately scoop camera pieces up, in part to cover the tears that have actually started rolling down your face. He’s not a good person. He’s not a good person. And there’s nothing you can do about it. And you don’t have any other friends, because at this point your only other option is a pervert who was taking pictures of the boobs you’re never going to be able to look in the mirror at again. 

As Jonathan bends down beside you, it takes a lot of strength not to shove him on his back. Let him know you don’t care about him. You care about the bits of her paycheck that Joyce Byers put aside for Will’s small allowance, all of which went into that piggy bank for that camera. You care about the quarters that Dustin, Lucas, and Mike sacrificed at the arcade when he showed up with nothing because he had saved it all for that camera. You cared about the hours you had spent at the grocery store with Lucas as he rolled his eyes at Erica, who was berating him for being picky over lemons for the lemonade stand they were building, where all the profits were going to the stupid fucking camera. 

And now it was laying in shards in the Hawkins High parking lot, and your best friend in the entire world was responsible for it. 

And he was walking away. 

You make a split second decision to abandon the camera, chasing after Steve down the hill. As you get up, you kick a bit of what was the lens, and you hope it cuts Jonathan open. 

“Steve!” You bark, turning the heads of your friends up ahead. You storm up to him and shove him backwards. 

“What the hell, Hopper?” He stumbles back. You’re almost stronger than him. You’re certainly a better swimmer. 

“You’re such an asshole, Harrington!” You shout.

“I’m sorry,” he shakes his head in disbelief, “did you not see the photos he was taking of you? Or of my girlfriend?” You think the last sentence hits you kind of hard, but you don’t think about it. You’re too angry.

“You don’t think! You don’t think about anyone except your fucking self, Steve.”

You can see in his eyes that he genuinely doesn’t understand why you’re angry at him. And of course he doesn’t. He doesn’t know about the camera, or Will. But he has to know the Byers don’t have money, right? He has to know that Jonathan can’t buy a new camera, right? He has to know the sacrifices someone in that family made to get him that, right? He has to know that you’re just like Jonathan Byers. Right?

You don’t realize at first that you’re hyperventilating. Or that you really are crying, now. You can’t breathe. You’re vaguely aware of being lowered to the ground, and of Steve crouching in front of you, rubbing your arm. Of him calling Nancy over, and of her stroking your back, and telling you you’re okay. Of your breathing slowing down, and of them helping you back to your feet. Of trudging to the gym as Nancy helps you walk, and Steve looks at you from her other side as if for the first time in his life, he can’t figure you out. 

You sit with your back against the lockers, staring at the side of the bench Carol’s laying on. 

“So,” she laughs from Tommy’s lap, “I told Mr. Mundy, the solution of ten plus Y equals… blow me.” Tommy snickers. 

“Bull,” Steve calls. “If you did that you’d be in detention right now.”. You realize you’ve ditched Nicole somewhere on your way back in. Good riddance, you figure. She was probably just trying to get in with the four—five?— of you. You realize you probably sound like a narcissist. You don’t entirely realize that you’re definitely projecting your anger about this from Steve onto this random girl. 

“Saturday,” Carol replies.

“I bet Mr. Mundy’s still a virgin.”

“Oh, he’s so a virgin.” 

“Maybe you should blow him, Carol. Help your grades a bit.”

“Nice, Tommy,” you mutter. Tommy gives you a look, as if to say, “She speaks!” Carol smacks him.

You can’t see Nancy from the floor, but as she walks away your eyes follow her. 

“Hey! Nance, where you going?” Steve calls. 

“I totally forgot,” she stammers, turning back. “I told my Mom I would… do something with her.”

“Well, what do you mean? The game’s about to start!” 

“I’m sorry,” she winces as she walks down the hall.

You watch Steve watch her go. Good for her, honestly. You’re thinking about doing the same thing, and the only thing stopping you is still that raging headache.

“What the hell’s wrong with her?” he turns back to the three of you. 

You shrug, sinking deeper into your hoodie. 

“Maybe she freaked out when you went all psycho on the psycho,” Tommy jeers, looking over at you as he says it. You jeer back at him, silently. 

“Oh, give me a break,” Steve dismisses him.

“What’d you expect, dating Miss Perfect?” Carol’s bubble pops loudly, echoing in the cinderblock hall. 

“Can you guys just…” you trail off. “Shut up?” 

“Okay, what the hell is going on with you?” Carol rolls her eyes.

“I just… stop making this into such a thing. I don’t want my dad finding out about this.” 

“Yeah, no shit,” Tommy chortles, and you look at him, surprised. 

“No one’s telling your dad,” Steve says. “None of us were supposed to be there, not just you and Tina.”

“Really, Steve?” you raise your voice. “I don’t want him to get mad at Mrs. Byers, or anything that’s going to stop him looking for Will,” you scoff at him. “To be honest, I could care less right now whether he finds out about your stupid fucking party.”

Tommy whistles. “She got you, man,” he reaches out to push Steve, and you glare at him, too. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, I just—” he trails off. “Can we just go to the game?”

You look up at him, meeting his eyes. For the second time today, you don’t think you understand each other at all. “I think… I think I’m gonna go home,” you say, and confusion passes through his eyes. 

“What?” 

“Yeah, I just… I don’t feel great. And I probably have to make dinner, or you know, my Dad won’t eat anything, and…” 

“Yeah. Fine. Whatever. Just go, Y/N.” He waves his arm at you, dismissively. 

“I… I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah.” 

Tommy and Carol are watching the interaction, Tommy almost wide-eyed and Carol blowing another bubble, bored. You scoop your backpack off the floor, looking for Steve’s eyes one last time, but he���s not looking at you. He stares at the ceiling instead, so you turn and walk down the hall, between the green and orange striped cinder block, the same way Nancy’s just gone.

You feel like the empty roads of Hawkins are closing in on you. Empty branches reach across to close in on you and your car. You swear you keep seeing shadows pass among them, and you jump at every one. You’re scared that you’re going to swerve and crash your car, but the thought of pulling over, any closer to these woods, is unthinkable. So you speed along towards the park, trying to keep your eyes on the asphalt as opposed to the forest, and think about anything other than Will or Barbara, and the serial kidnapper that’s lurking somewhere around this town. 

As you drive into the park, the lights from the trailers around you provide some small comfort, but you curse your father for choosing a spot so far from everyone else, and by the open water that seems to absorb all the light for twenty yards around your house. The sun set in the short while it took to drive home. If there was a graph charting the correlation between the amount of sun and your level of fear, it would have an approximate slope of negative one. Or negative ten. Or negative ten thousand. 

Gravel crunches under your tires as you pull in, and you turn the car off as soon as possible. You think you’re hoping that if you’re completely silent, and completely invisible, that whatever monsters are lurking around town won’t come for you. You sit in your car for what seems like hours, but is probably closer to twenty minutes, before you decide that you don’t want to get out of it. It’s warm, and your house is definitely freezing. So you dig the walkie-talkie out of the bottom of your bag, and fumble with the dials, tapping into the police office’s main line. 

“Flo?” You start. 

It takes a moment, but her voice crackles back through. 

“Hi, sweetie.” Her voice sounds strained. 

“Is something wrong? I was just wondering if you knew where my dad was.” 

“Oh, sweetie. He’s… he’s heading down to the quarry, but you shouldn’t go down there—” You tune her out. Why would you go down there? You never follow your dad to work. Why would you…  

“Will,” your voice creaks. 

“Oh, sweetheart, would you like to come over here, and wait for your father to finish up?” You know she’s nervous, you know she’s looking out for you, but the way she says “finish up”, as if Will is some menial task, makes your stomach drop.

“No, Thanks, Flo,” you mutter. You can hear her responding to you, but you’re not listening. You toss the walkie into the passenger seat, and before you can think about what you’re doing, you reverse your car and fly back out of the trailer park. 

You race back down the tree-lined streets, no longer caring that they’re closing in on you. It’s only five minutes or so to the quarry, but it feels like twenty with the way your heart is pounding out of your chest and you feel your breath leaving you again. 

You hear the sirens before you see them, but as you turn the corner your eyes are assaulted by the flashing red and blue of what must be every law enforcement, firefighting, or ambulatory vehicle in Hawkins. 

You let out a strangled cry as you park your car and jump out, starting towards the water before you see the boys peeking out from behind a fire truck. There’s so much going on, there’s so much happening. Will. Why are they here, how can they be here? Will. You need to get them out of here. 

“Hey!” You shout and they all jump. “You guys need to get out of here, come on— who is this?” There’s another boy with them,  or at least you thought at first, but now you’re pretty sure it’s a little girl with her head buzzed. None of them answer you, all watching your father storm past officers at the quarry. 

You all watch as a small body is pulled out of the water. Your hand flies to your mouth, and you cry. 

“It’s not Will,” Mike says, holding the pole on the back of the truck for support. “It can’t be.” 

You can’t find words to respond to him. Officers pull a stretcher further up the shore, and you would recognize that little red vest anywhere. But Lucas shakes his head, and tears start to fall from his eyes. “It’s Will. It’s really Will.” 

Mike straightens, turning away from the sight. You’re holding Dustin’s shoulders from behind him, as tightly as if you can stop this from happening if you hold on to him like this. 

“Mike…” the girl says, but he slaps her hand away. 

“”Mike”? “Mike,” what?” He shouts. “You were supposed to help us find him alive. You said he was alive!” You’re so confused, so lost, and staring at the water. You don’t know what the hell is going on with these kids, but you know that their best friend is dead on that stretcher, and Mike is distraught, and he’s taking it out on this girl, possibly in the same way you were taking out your anger at Steve on Nicole. “Why did you lie to us?” His voice cracks. “What’s wrong with you!? What is wrong with you?” 

“Mike…” 

“What?” The girl shakes her head, and Mike prods her for an answer with his eyes, before he turns and storms off. 

“Michael!” 

“Mike, come on,” Lucas protests. “Don’t do this, man.” 

“Mike, where are you going? Mike!” Dustin shouts.

But Mike ignores all of you, picking up his bike and getting away as fast as he can.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to do here, left with two of the kids you babysit and some random girl that you think they might have kidnapped from a cancer ward. But you have to pull yourself together. They can’t be here. You can’t be here, but them especially. You think this might be one of the worst places for them to ever be. 

“Come on, guys,” you manage. “Get in the car.” 

Dustin and Lucas nod solemnly, and carry their bikes to your trunk. The girl stands awkwardly back, until you look between her and the boys and gesture for her to hop in. 

The car is silent, except for the few seconds where you ask where you’re supposed to drop this girl off. Some sad whispering and hesitation determines that you should take her to Mike’s, and you do, watching her climb in through the basement window. 

“Okay,” you start, as soon as she’s inside. “I realize that this is one of the worst times for this, but one of you needs to tell me what the hell is going on with her.” 

Dustin and Lucas argue muffledly in the backseat.

“Today,” you drum on the steering wheel. You’re trying to distract yourself—one problem at a time. 

“She has superpowers,” Dustin mumbles, as Lucas says:

“We just found her.” 

You try, and fail, to make sense of their words. 

“Okay…” you look at Dustin in the rearview mirror. “What do you mean, “she has superpowers”?” Lucas gives him a look that you interpret as warning him not to say anything else. 

He talks anyway. “She lifted Mike’s Millenium Falcon with her mind.” Jesus Christ. 

“Dustin, I’m being serious here,” you sigh. “I just want… I just want to help.” 

“I am being serious!” 

You sit in silence, mind reeling. Obviously this is some bit that he and the others have made up, and he’s confused. Surely. But how would you feel if you were bringing something like this to your dad, and he didn’t believe you? But you have no reason to believe him. Superpowers don’t exist. The kid’s best friend has just been found dead in the quarry you’ve all swum in since you were kids, and he’s been reading too much X-Men. 

“He’s not lying,” Lucas says quietly. He’s staring out the window, tears still rolling down his cheeks, but he mumbles at you as you drive. 

“We found her in the woods the night of the storm.” 

“You were out at night in the woods? In a storm!?” You almost crash your car. “Are you guys insane?” 

“We were looking for Will!” 

“That’s not for you to do, Lucas! That’s what the police, and the adults who are volunteering are for! And you certainly shouldn’t have been alone!” 

“Yeah, well, look at what a great job your dad did,” he snaps. 

You purse your lips and stare at the reflected traffic lines ahead of you. 

“I’m not… I’m not saying… Look, you guys just have to be safe, okay? Will isn’t the only kid who’s gone missing.” You realize as you say it that Will’s body doesn’t solve the mystery of Barb’s disappearance. Impossibly, a sliver of hope rises that there’s more to this than meets the eye, but you shove it back down. You’ve just seen Will’s body raised from the water. The water. Barb was by the pool. 

“What?” They ask together. 

“I… forget I said anything,” you rush. 

“Who’s missing?” 

“Friend of Nancy’s.” Dustin rolls his eyes. 

“Who, Steve Harrington?” Lucas scoffs. 

“I— no.” Why would you ever introduce Steve as a friend of Nancy’s? “Barb. Red hair? Nevermind.” 

“What if…” Dustin turns to Lucas. 

“No, dude. He’s dead. Dead!.” Lucas crosses his arms, going back to his position at the window. 

“Okay,” you mutter, and startle the boys as you pull the car over to the side of the road. “You both need to tell me exactly what the fuck is going on here.” 

They do their hesitation and bantering dance again, before the mumbles all rush out, and you can’t make sense of who’s saying what. 

“She’s psychic, or something.” 

“She tried to get naked in Mike’s basement.” 

“She said she could find Will.” 

“She said he’s hiding.” 

“Okay, okay, okay!” Now this is making a little more sense. A skill at guessing what people are thinking, or something, is much more reasonable than telekinesis. And they must have let their minds run a little amok. 

“You find this girl, and she says she knows something about Will?” They nod. “And you don’t take this to the police?” They shuffle uncomfortably. “Chill. I’m not a spy for my dad. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on here.” 

“She said bad men were after her.” A chill runs up your spine.

“What do you mean, bad men?” 

Dustin raises his hand, holding it like a gun, and starts to point it at your head. “Dude!” Lucas shouts. “You’re going to freak her out.” He turns to you. “Guns. Basically.”

“Military, maybe?”

“Why would the military care about some kid?” Lucas asks. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” You stop to think for a second, but your mind is exhausted. You’re so, so, tired. And the boys must be as well. You’re glad, at least, that you seem to have distracted them from the body for a moment, even if it’s with more of this weird situation. But you need to sleep, and so do they. You tell them so, and they try to protest at first. “I’ll come by in the morning, okay? We can talk more then. Just… radio if you need anything, okay?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Lucas murmurs. Dustin nods in agreement. You drive them back to their houses in silence again. You’ve all resolved to your quiet mourning, but at least in you, something is stirring. Something that wants to get to the bottom of this, to find Barbara if you can’t find Will. And to at least find out, for sure, what happened to him. Hold someone accountable, if there is anyone. In a strange way, you hope there is someone. 

As you drop each boy off, you watch as they walk in through their doors. You know you won’t be making that same mistake again. 

a/n: thank you for reading! as always, all reblogs, shares, comments, asks, etc are so so appreciated! let me know what you think!

taglist (just ask if you'd like to be added!): @thisisourlovestory, @ladygrey03

[pinkeoni]

before anything will byers is a mommy’s boy

[bylertruther]

oh fack.... just had my biweekly reminder that jonathan has only ever wanted to protect will from harm, offer him a safe space, and encourage him to love what he loves without shame, and it's all of that which literally saves will's life and keeps him safe when he's in the upside down and later in the shed scene.... will singing "should i stay or should i go" his favorite song which jonathan first showed him... will hiding out in castle byers which jonathan built with/for him.... the song then helping to give will an opening to take back enough control for him to speak to his family in morse code... the shadow monster + vecna + lonnie all symbolizing forced conformity vs jonathan protecting will from that time and time again by being there for him, seeing him, and loving him as he is... jonathan carries so much guilt because he feels like he's never there when will needs it most, but it's his love for will that kept will alive.... he feels like it's his fault that will was kidnapped, that he should've been there for him that night and onward, but he was there for him! he was with him the whole time, helping and protecting him as he always has!!! when stranded alone in a world so dark and so cold and full of monsters, will used the tools his brother had given him to protect himself... i just... they're so... 🥺 THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUUUUUCH 😭😭😭😭

[hedgefrogpresents]

We Wrote Stranger Things Season Five But There's Gay Vampires And It's A Puppet Theater

I wrote a 95 page treatment of how Stranger Things season five would go if I got to be in charge of it and then we acted it out scene-by-scene in the Hedgefrog Puppet Theater and made our friends voice characters with us and also there's a musical number and a drag bar and Eddie is alive and he and Steve are hooking up but it is NOT romantic it is PURELY sexual and also Steve and Robin are a horse and Max gets to have a sword (as a treat) 💕🦇✨🐎💕

[aethermint]

According to the duffer brothers the Harrington's and the Byers are NEIGHBOURS??? Right by Mirkwood and the Hawkins Lab.... Lots of Fanfic potential right there.

[robinbuckleysfringe]

There's No Place Like Hawkins

pairings: steve harrington x oc, steve harrington x henderson!oc

warnings: nothing beyond anything that happens within the show, slow burn?? they take a while to get together

words: 3k

Chapter Three (episodes: S1.Ep3)

prev. chapter | next chapter | series masterlist

Holly, Jolly

The next morning, Catherine was sat behind Nancy during first period, when both girls noticing that their friend Barb was absent from her seat next to Nancy. She turned around in her seat to see Cat slumped over her desk. With a frown on her face she asked, "hey, Cat. Have you seen Barb at all today?"

The girl shook her head, sitting up slightly in her seat. "No, not since I left the so-called party last night."

"Why did you leave so early anyway?" Nancy asked, curious as to why she had disappeared so early into the evening.

"Because I knew Barb wasn't going to stay and I wasn't about to become the fifth wheel while you hung out with your boyfriend and his friends."

Nancy nodded her head in understanding before turning back around in her seat and tapping the shoulder of the girl who sat in front of her. "Hey, Ally." The girl in question turned her head towards Nancy. "Where's Barb?"

"Um, shouldn't you two know?" The girl answered as Nancy shared a look of concern with Catherine, the girl slowly falling asleep at her desk.

"You haven't seen her anywhere... at all?" Nancy asked, leaning forward in her seat slightly. Ally shook her head, turning back to face the front of the classroom as their teacher began the lesson.

***

At lunch Cat followed Nancy to the table where Steve, Tommy and Carol were sat at. Seeing as Barb was nowhere to be found, and she didn't want to sit alone, this was her only option. Sit with her best friend's boyfriend and his bullies for friends. She sighed softly under her breath at the thought. Placing their lunch trays on the table, the pair took their seats at the end of the table, Nancy of course sitting next to Steve. Cat grimaced as she saw Carol’s foot propped up onto the table, showing the group the bite that had appeared on her ankle. The sight was enough to put Catherine off her food and she pushed her tray away.

The two girls caught the tail-end of the conversation about Carol's ankle. "Well, if it's not frostbite, then what is it?"

"Ugh," Steve groaned. "I don't care what it is, it's disgusting! Get it off the table. We're eating here." Carol lifted her leg off of the table, kicking Cat's leg as she adjusted her legs beneath the table top. Cat flinched slightly, sending a sharp glare towards the girl opposite her.

"Hey, Tommy." Nancy spoke to the boy opposite her boyfriend. "When you left, did you see Barb?"

"What?" the boy asked through a mouthful of food.

Cat stared at him in disgust. "She's talking about our friend, Barbara." Cat explained. "You know, tall, red-head. Wears glasses." Nancy nodded at her friend, indicating that that was who she was talking about.

"Yeah, she's not here today." Nancy elaborated.

"I seriously have no idea who the two of you are talking about." Tommy told them as Cat rolled her eyes and sighed in annoyance.

"Come on, don't be an ass, man." Steve said. "Did you... Did you see her leave last night or not?"

"No, she was gone when we left." Tommy told the three sitting opposite him and Carol.

"Probably couldn't stand listening to all that moaning." Carol interjected through a mouthful of food and Catherine looked at her in confusion as the girl started moaning. Cat sent Nancy a look, understanding exactly what Carol was going on about, despite not having been there.

"Listen... I'm sure she's fine." Steve attempted to reassure the girls, although Cat knew he was mostly talking to Nancy. "She's probably just... she's probably just, like, skipping or something." Both Nancy and Cat shared another look, knowing that it wasn't in Barb’s nature to skip school. She always had 100% attendance, never missing a day of school in her life. Quite unlike Catherine, who tended to skip a lot of her classes, especially recently.

"Yeah." Nancy said, unconvinced by Steve's words. "Yeah, probably." The girl looked over to the doorway, seeing Jonathan and making eye contact with the boy. She tapped Cat's shoulder, getting the girl's attention. Cat looked over at her friend, bidding farewell to Nancy knowing the others wouldn't notice her leaving.

She ran out of the lunch hall and down the corridor, calling out to her friend. "Jonathan! Hey, Byers!"

The boy turned around and waited for her to catch up to him. When she did, she bent over her knees trying to catch her breath. "Out of breath?" He asked her as the girl shook her head in denial.

"Ha, ha." Cat laughed sarcastically as the two friends started walking down the hall. "Wanna hang out for a bit? Not particularly fond of my next lesson."

Jonathan looked at his friend. "You're not skipping chemistry again, are you?" He looked at disapprovingly.

Cat smiled. "Oh yeah. The teacher is so boring and he's gonna make me take the test that I missed the other day! And I still haven't studied at all." She pulled out her packet of cigarettes, picking one and placing it between her lips.

"You do realise that one of these days those things are gonna kill you." Jonathan told her, watching as she pulled the lighter out of her pocket, lighting the stick that was hanging from her lips.

Catherine held the lit cigarette between her fingers, letting the smoke blow from her lips. "That's the point." She stated with a serious look on her face, watching as her friend stared at her with concern.

***

Not long after the last period of the school day, Cat stood at the phone box outside the building, leaning against it with another cigarette between her lips as she watched Nancy call Barb's house in order to find out if she really had just skipped school that day. "Come on, come on, come on..." Nancy muttered as the line rang. A second later she spoke into the phone, so Cat assumed that someone at the house had picked up. She moved closer to Nancy so she could try and hear whoever was on the other end. "Hi, uh, Ms. Holland, it's Nancy."

"Oh, Nancy, how are you?" Cat heard her friend's mother speak through the receiver, although her voice was faint. The girl blew out smoke from her lips, causing Nancy to let out a cough. She grabbed the cigarette from her friend and chucked it onto the pavement, making sure to step on it and put it out. Catherine let out a sigh, placing another one between her lips, though this time leaving it unlit.

"Good. I'm good." Nancy spoke into the phone. "Um, I was just wondering, uh, is Barb there?"

"Mmm... No, she hasn't come home yet." The older woman informed the teen.

"But she did come home, right? After the vigil?" Nancy asked and Cat sensed the worry in her voice.

"No, she said she was staying with you last night." Cat could hear how confused the lady was.

"Right, yes. She did, sorry." Nancy apologised. "I meant, did she come home this morning? I think she left some textbooks, and she was gonna go pick them up."

"Oh, um, no, I haven't seen her." Ms. Holland told her, and Catherine frowned in confusion. Where could Barb be?

"Do- Do you know what? I just remembered... she's at the library." Nancy told the woman.

"Nancy, will you please have her call me as soon as you find her?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I will. Sorry to bother you." She said as she hung up the phone. The two girls shared a look of worry for where their friend could be. They made their way over to where Steve, Carol, Tommy and some girl named Nichole (someone Cat never involved herself with) were ganging up on Jonathan. Cat propped her bike against her side as Nancy asked the group, "what's going on?"

"Here's the starring lady." Cat looked at Tommy in confusion, already hating his presence. Nothing good ever happened when he was around.

"What?" Nancy asked, just as confused as her friend.

"This creep was spying on us last night." Carol spat, gesturing towards Jonathan. "He was probably gonna save this one for later." She handed one of the photos to Nancy while she stared at the boy. Cat looked over her shoulders at the photo that Nancy now held, but she looked away almost immediately. It wasn’t something she felt she had a right to look at; her friend standing in just her bra in the window of what Cat remembered to be Steve’s bedroom.

Steve clicked his tongue. "See, you can tell that he knows it was wrong, but..." He walked up to Jonathan, who had a guilty look on his face. "Man, that's the thing about perverts... It's hardwired into 'em. You know, they just can't help themselves." He ripped up the photos that were in his hands as Carol and Tommy looked through the rest, laughing. "So..." Steve continued, ripping up more photos. "we'll just have to take away his toy."

"Steve..." Nancy called to him, her arms folded over her chest.

"No, please, not the camera." Jonathan pleaded, his voice quiet and scared. For a tall boy, he suddenly seemed to shrink under Steve's glare.

Steve pulled Jonathan's camera out of the boy’s bag and held it out to him. "Here you go, man." Just as Jonathan reached out to grab his camera from Steve, the boy turned his hand, so his palm was facing the ground of the carpark and the camera fell, smashing into pieces as it hit the ground. Cat dropped her unlit cigarette to the floor, her bike clattering with it as she let out a gasp. She couldn’t condone what Jonathan had done, but she still felt bad about Steve breaking his camera.

"Come on, let's go. The game's about to start." Steve called his friends away while Tommy continued to laugh at Jonathan’s broken camera.

Jonathan quickly knelt to the ground, trying to gather up the pieces of his ripped up photos and broken camera. Cat knelt down next to him, trying to help while Nancy stood by the pair for a moment. Catherine felt bad for her friend, knowing that he had saved up for what felt forever to be able to afford the camera. But it didn’t change the fact that what he did was wrong.

"Hey, Nance!" Steve called as the girl knelt down, looking at a photo of Barb sat on the diving board of the pool. Her head turned to look at Steve as he called for her. "Come on." She quickly picked up the pieces of the photo before standing up, avoiding eye contact with Jonathan. She quickly walked away, and Cat watched as Steve put his arm around her.

Cat turned to Jonathan, pieces of ripped up photos in her hand. "You know, I may have a giant crush on him, but that doesn’t mean I won't hesitate to punch him. You just say the word and I will punch Steve Harrington in his pretty face. Someone needs to knock some niceness into him."

Jonathan smiled at the girl before glancing at the time on her watch. "Don't you have to pick Dustin up from school?" He asked her.

Cat looked down at her watch. "Shit." She handed Jonathan the photos that she was holding. "Shit, shit." She stood up and grabbed her bike off of the ground. "I'm really sorry I couldn't stay and help." She sent the boy a small smile before climbing onto her bike. She looked over her shoulder at the boy. "I'll get you a new camera, though. Mom's gonna pay me for looking after the boys and I don't have anything I want to spend my money on so, why not get you a new camera?" She shrugged as she started cycling towards the middle school, calling out a goodbye to her friend from over her shoulder.

***

"El!" Mike called as he, Lucas, Dustin and Cat wheeled their bikes up the hill towards the powerlines behind his house. The boys had filled the older girl in on their afternoon plans on the way to the Wheeler's house, stopping by the Henderson’s household on the way there so Cat could grab her jacket. None of them wanted a repeat of last time. Eleven turned around to face them. "You okay?" The raven-haired boy asked her, getting a few nods from Eleven in response. The girl saw that Catherine was with them this time and a small smile appeared on her face. Cat's own face lit up with a smile at the sight of the small girl. Even though she barely knew Eleven, she already felt responsible for her safety and would do anything for her.

Cat dropped her bike for the second time that day and ran over to El, her arms wrapping around her small frame. The older girl leaned her head on El's, her body being only slightly taller than the girl in her arms. Shocked by the older girl's actions, Eleven hesitantly wrapped her arms around Cat's tiny frame. After a few moments, Catherine pulled away from the small girl, taking a couple of steps back to her bike.

As Lucas and Dustin were sorting their own bikes out, turning them around so they could cycle them towards the woods, and Catherine was picking up her bike from the grass, Mike patted the seat on his bike, talking to El. "Hop on. We only have a few hours." The girl sat on the back of the seat while Mike climbed on in front of her. The group began cycling, Cat behind them to make sure she had eyes on all of the kids. She couldn't lose either of them.

***

After meeting Eleven by the powerlines behind the Wheeler house, the boys and Catherine found themselves wheeling their bikes along a trail in the woods. Eleven’s face had lit up ever so slightly when she saw that Cat was joining them, and vice versa. Cat had pulled the younger girl into a gentle hug, and El had hesitantly wrapped her arms around the older girl’s waist. Now, Cat’s gaze was focused on the leaves beneath her feet as she followed behind the group of middle schoolers, looking up when she heard Eleven’s voice. “Why did they hurt you?” El asked Mike as the two walked slightly ahead of the others.

"What?" Mike asked the girl, also confused for a moment. El pointed at the cut on his chin. "Oh, that. Uh... I just fell at recess."

"Bullshit." Cat muttered, seeing through the lie. "Wait, who hurt you?" She asked. "Do you want me to say something to them?"

Mike shook his head. "No. No. It's fine."

"Mike..." Eleven started.

"Yeah?"

"Friends tell the truth." El stated, also seeing through Mike's lie.

"She has point, Wheeler." Cat agreed.

The raven-haired boy sighed. "I was tripped by this mouth breather, Troy, okay?"

"He's still bullying you?" Cat asked, upset that neither of the boys had mentioned it to her.

"Mouth breather?" El asked, confused by the word.

"Yeah, you know... a dumb person." Mike explained. "A knucklehead."

"Knucklehead?" Eleven asked, still confused.

"I don't know why I didn’t just tell you. Everyone at school knows. I just didn't want you to think I was a wastoid, you know?" Cat took one hand off her bike and rubbed the boy's shoulder for a moment. It was her silent way of comforting, and it was something the boys appreciated a lot.

"Mike..." Eleven's voice was quiet.

"Yeah?"

"I understand."

"Oh. Okay, cool."

"Cool." Eleven smiled at the boy.

Cat slowed down, allowing the two to walk together. She fell back in line with Dustin and Lucas. "How can you not like her, Lucas? She’s a sweet girl.” Cat said, smiling softly. Lucas didn’t answer, instead just rolling his eyes at her.

***

By the time the group came to a stop on a path that felt familiar to Catherine, the sun had fully set, and darkness had settled in. “Here.” Eleven stated as she turned around to face the others. Cat’s eyes widened, realising where she recognised the path from.

"Yeah, this is where Will lives." Mike told El, voice full of disappointment as he noticed that the girl had taken them to the Byers’ house.

"Hiding." Eleven replied, her voice quiet.

"No, no, this is where he lives." Mike repeated. "He's missing from here. Understand?"

"What are we doing here?" Lucas asked as he and Dustin dropped their bikes onto the grass next to Catherine’s.

"She said he's hiding here." Mike informed the two boys.

"Um... no!"

"I swear, if we walked all the way out here for nothing-" Dustin started.

"That's exactly what we did." Lucas exclaimed, cutting him off. Cat just stood there, not sure what to believe. "I told you she didn't know what the hell she was talking about!" He yelled, waving his arm in Eleven's direction.

"Why did you bring us here?" Mike asked El, his voice softer than Lucas’s.

The young girl tried to stammer out her answer but was cut off by Lucas. "Mike, don't waste your time with her."

"What do you want to do then?" The raven-haired boy snapped, turning sharply towards him.

"Call the cops, like we should have done yesterday."

"We are not calling the cops!" Mike argued back to Lucas.

"Hey, guys?" Dustin called, causing both girls to look over at him as he stepped between the two fighting boys, walking further forward into the front garden.

"What other choice do we have?" Lucas asked Mike, his voice loud.

Cat slapped his arm, getting him to shut up as Dustin called out to the others for a second time. "Guys!" The group all moved towards Dustin, finally hearing the sirens approaching. They watched as both police cars and an ambulance raced past on the main road. Cat lifted a shaky hand to her mouth, certain of what the vehicles meant.

"Will..." Mike breathed out as they all stood there in shock for a moment before turning and racing towards their bikes. They jumped on them and cycled in the direction the ambulance and police cars were driving. Cat let out a breath, wiping the tears that were forming in her eyes, her hair blowing everywhere as she raced after the boys and Eleven, who sat on the back of Mike’s bike.

***

The group came to a stop just behind a fire engine, jumping off the bikes and racing as far forward as they could, without being seen by the adults. Catherine waved them behind her, making sure they stayed covered behind the vehicle. They watched as the firefighters carried a body out of the water. From where Catherine stood, and what she could make out through the darkness and minimal torch light, the body looked like Will’s. She couldn’t stop the sob that left her mouth, her hand still shaky has she held it in front of her face. The guilt of letting Will cycle himself home that night started eating at her, becoming worse than before as her insides formed a knot.

"It's not Will. It can't be." Mike denied, shaking his head.

"It's Will." Lucas said quietly after a moment. "It's really Will."

The tears began to fall from Cat’s eyes as pulled the kids away from the scene, moving them closer to where they’d hurriedly dumped their bikes. Eleven reached her hand out to Mike’s shoulder, softly saying his name. But the boy pushed her hand away.

"'Mike?' 'Mike,' what?" He snapped at El, who let out a gasp. "You were supposed to help us find him alive. You said he was alive! Why did you lie to us? What's wrong with you?" Cat walked over, pulling Mike away from the girl in fear that he would lash out and hit her. "What is wrong with you?" Cat pulled the boy towards her, and he cried into her shoulder for a few moments before pulling himself away from her and storming off with his bike.

"Mike, come on. Don't do this, man." Lucas called out to him, tears falling down his face. "Mike..."

"Mike, where are you going?" Dustin asked. "Mike!"

"Mike!" Lucas called out again. Catherine wrapped her arms around the three kids, trying to hug them at the same time as they each cried into her. The older girl ran her fingers through their hair, a small attempt at getting them to calm down. But she knew they were a long way off from being okay. Nothing could fix what they had just lost.

[jonathanbyersphd]

no bc if Jonathan organized Will's funeral that means he picked the flowers which are Yellow roses which symbolize friendship and joy and I am UNWELL

[lithiumcreepblog]

Y’know, I don’t think Jonathan is Argyle’s “only friend”. Argyle very much reads to me as a group hopper. His personality is so infectious and chill that I feel like he would get along with everyone. Maybe he didn’t have anyone he was super close with before Jonathan, but he certainly would have been friendly with a lot of people at school. Going off of that, Jonathan would also awkwardly tag along to the parties Argyle’s invited to because he has nothing better to do and he likes hanging out with Argyle. But turns out, everyone likes hanging out with Argyle, from the jocks to the stoners to the theatre kids to the cheerleaders. (That totally wouldn’t make Jonathan jealous, not at all) And more often than not, Jonathan is left standing alone near the door while Argyle goes and mingles around with all these different people. But he would always come back to Jonathan afterwards, making sure he’s okay and comfortable. Jonathan is not Argyle’s only friend, but he is his closest and truest friend.

(Or at least that’s how I interpret it)

[jargyles]

jargyle is so bf/bf but theyre also so gf (jonathan)/bf (argyle) and theyre also bf (jonathan)/gf (argyle) and theyre also gf/gf. and trans