xirayn

[xirayn]

Making a pinned post for my fic links, will try to update this as I go along! :>)

NARUSASU

FOX SLEEP- 10k, VOTE2 major character death and aftermath

THE CAPTAIN- 11k, dream sharing during Naruto’s boat journey in chapter 491

MONSOON- 2.8k, one shot for Sasuke’s bday 2025 loosely based on the new official art; traveling together, established-ish relationship

STONATHAN

TEHOHDIVERSE- 148.8k, series; season one on rewrite, slow burn stonathan! Ongoing, currently chapter 4/5 on Telepathic Desert

GOLDFISH- 35.6k, for if you’ve ever thought what if will died in season one and then Joyce had a late in life replacement baby and Steve is there and works at the grocery store?

THE DEVIL- 4.8k, Halloween oneshot

SO IT GOES- 7.5k, multi-chapter and ongoing (NOT ABANDONED!) chapter 1/5; dying, purgatory, reincarnating…

BEGINNING TO SEE THE LIGHT- 15k, stonathan working at VBS together pre-canon

THE WAY THE WORLD ENDS- 22k, childhood friends stonathan, getting back together

[xirayn]

if you ever feel awkward leaving a long ao3 comment getting no reply remember that at this point receiving any feedback at all will leave most authors too stunned to speak

[xirayn]

I've thought about this more than I should have, and here is my answer:

This is 1984. Siouxsie and The Banshees didn't breakthrough in North America until 1988. Discovering music in the '80s was also almost completely reliant on your environtment. Jonathan didn't have an algorithm giving him music suggestions based on what he listened to or people outside of Hawkins to suggest music beyond the mainstream media. He certainly didn't have MTV since that was only on cable. At best, he had a radio station or even just a program.

Now, quick, tell me what any member of Pink Floyd looked like without looking it up. Easy mode is Robert Smith from The Cure. If you can, is it because of the internet? Because before that, you might know from a poster or an album cover or a magazine or an interview, probably on MTV.

Jonathan not recognizing a Siouxsie Sioux costume is absolutely understandable.

Kiss is really distinctive, though, so him guessing that instead of a zombie or vampire remains a forced joke.

ok no one else gafs but like. i will never understand why they had this interaction like i get the joke of jonathan saying "kiss?" and it being misconstrued as him asking to kiss her or whatever, but like. she's clearly siouxsie sioux. like i would believe u if u told me that was her cameo in the show. like i don't believe jonathan "post-punk is the only real music" byers would ever mistake that look for any member of kiss . like if u wanted to make that joke maybe have a girl in like corpse paint or smth idk. but like. what is going on

[xirayn]

He'a singing along to Back on You and I just can't. They are so found family.

besties supporting their bestie

[xirayn]

I had the thought that this is even worse when you realize that Jonathan is still a minor and that if Joyce dies, Lonnie gets custody.

Stranger Things s1e7 The Bathtub

HOPPER Hey, get back inside. JOYCE What, are you insane? No, I'm-- HOPPER Look, if something happens to me, I don't make it back-- JOYCE Yeah, but then I'll go. You stay. Are you kidding me? He's my son, Hop. My son. I'm going!

While her other son, who is 16 and just planned his little brother's funeral and she just lectured about acting like he is all alone out there in the world, is standing right there.

[xirayn]

STWG Prompt: “Why are you sitting in the closet?”

CW For depictions of child abuse

Jonathan rubbed his fingers against his toy bunny’s ear and blew out a shuddering breath. He’d stopped crying, there weren’t tears rolling down his face anymore, but he could still feel the sticky tracks left behind, where they’d been on his face. He tucked his face against the stuffed animal and sucked in another breath, taking in the smell of it. It was a little dusty, given it stayed tucked in his closet behind his snow pants, but it smelled like soft cotton and something a little like baby powder. Comforting.

Strictly speaking, he wasn’t supposed to have Bun anymore. His dad had taken it away after his little brother was born and said he was too old for toys, especially girly ones. Jonathan didn’t think Bun was girly, it was a soft shade of gray and had long floppy ears. The ears weren’t fluffy like Bun’s body though, the incessant worrying of the ears between his fingers had worn off the fluff years ago. After his dad had taken Bun away, saying he was going to throw it out, Jonathan had done what was probably the most rebellious thing in his young life. He’d snuck into his parents’ room while they were both out of the house and taken Bun from the trash before hiding it in his closet.

His dad hadn’t said a word about it after, probably thought Bun was long gone. His mom had asked once or twice since Bun had been grasped in his hands at all times before that, but he never said anything about it to anyone.

And Bun stayed hidden in the closet ever since, except for the one time he’d risked sneaking it into a load of laundry to clean it up.

Bun didn’t even come out during the night time. Not even after nightmares. Bun was an emergency measure, only allowed when he couldn’t breathe, when his lungs felt like they couldn’t get big like they were supposed to, when his voice was extra choked away, when he needed to hold something so he wouldn’t explode into a million billion pieces.

Today was one of those days, one where something bad happened.

He didn’t remember why his dad had gotten so upset. He remembered it being a good morning, quiet. His mom had gone to work without any fighting, his dad had even put peanut butter on toast like Will liked. Jonathan had gone outside to draw in the back of his lined notebook he used for school, looking out for cool bugs or birds to draw. His eyes went from the trees to the ground where he looked under flipped over rocks. He’d been nudging a curled up centipede with the end of his pencil, being gentle so he didn’t hurt it, when he’d heard yelling inside. He’d dropped his pencil, notebook still tucked under his arm, and ran inside as fast as he could, nearly tripping over the lip of the porch in his haste.

His dad was yelling at Will, whose eyes were wide and shiny and scared. A broken glass and a puddle of juice were at his feet and dad lifted his hand-

“No! Stop!” Jonathan dropped the notebook and ran towards Will with his hands held up. He’d never raised his voice at his dad before. Almost never raised his voice at all, preferred to be quiet so only people he wanted to hear could hear him.

Jonathan didn’t take the time to be surprised by his own voice. He ran to Will, whose head only came up to Jonathan’s chin, and pushed himself between him and their dad. Glass crunched under his sneaker and he was glad he was wearing them, even though the left one was too tight on his big toe.

His dad narrowed his eyes at him. “Are you speaking back to me?”

As quickly as the words had come, they were gone again. His tongue was dry and his throat was empty of sound. So he shook his head, but was unsurprised when he was pulled in closer.

His dad punished him for backtalk and lying and yelling inside. He didn’t know how that was fair, not when all his dad did inside was yell, but he was quiet for it, trying his hardest to keep the tears back. Will was openly crying, big hiccuping sobs. He wasn’t allowed to go to his room when Jonathan was punished, he had to watch. And that just felt like it made Jonathan’s punishment worse, having to listen to Will cry and not make it better.

By the time it was over, Jonathan felt unsteady as he got to his feet, skin burning hot. He kept his head down as his dad threw a kitchen towel at him with a snapped comment about cleaning up the mess. The door opened and closed and he and Will held their breaths as a car started and drove away.

Will stared at Jonathan for a long moment before turning to run to his room. Jonathan didn’t let his tears fall yet. He got on the floor to wipe up the glass and the juice, gathering the glass in the towel like his mom had showed him so he didn’t cut his hands. He swept up the littlest pieces with the broom that was as tall as he was. Then he wiped the spot on the floor again with a wet paper towel because juice was sweet and that invited bugs inside, and Jonathan couldn’t bring bugs inside, mom said so.

Only then, as he was taking off his shoes, did the first tears fall.

Then Jonathan climbed into his closet and sat on the winter quilt and cried into the fur of Bun, rubbing its ears in his fingers.

He’d almost stopped crying when the bedroom door creaked open. He went rigid, panicking too much to shove Bun back into place behind the snow pants. He hadn’t heard the front door or a car or anything. He held Bun tighter and wondered if he should stop breathing too, but he was still breathless from crying. “Jon…?”

It wasn’t his dad. The tiny voice was Will’s. He nudged the closet door. “I’m in here.” His own voice was small too, the size it was most of the time.

A little hand curled around the side of the door and pulled it open. Will was standing there with red eyes still wet, chubby cheeks streaked with tears. “Why are you in your closet?”

“Dad can never find me in here.” He scooted and made room. Will climbed in with him and sat close enough that their knees touched. Jonathan didn’t feel his usual urge to move away from touch, not from Will, never from Will. “Are you okay?”

Will shrugged, looking at Bun instead of Jonathan’s face. “You yelled at dad.”

Jonathan mirrored the shrug and turned Bun around so Will could see its brown plastic eyes and stitched nose and mouth. “I know.”

“He was mad. You don’t yell.”

“Not usually.” It was getting easier to find his words. It was easiest to find them with Will. “He was going to hurt you.”

“He did hurt you.”

“Because I yelled. We’re not supposed to. You probably didn’t drop your cup on purpose.”

Will shook his head and reached out to touch Bun’s ears. “He hurt you though.” Will sounded upset and Jonathan looked at him closely.

“I’m okay, though. It didn’t hurt that bad.” One time, his mom had told him that sometimes it was okay to lie a little bit. If telling the truth would only make the other person more upset, it was okay to not tell the whole truth. He’d taken that to heart.

Will seemed to relax a little and let go of Bun. “Why?”

“Why didn’t it hurt…?”

“Why did you get in front of me?”

“Because I’m supposed to protect you. You’re my little brother, that’s what big brothers do. Before you were born, mom said that it would be my job.”

Will didn’t seem completely happy with the answer, but pushed Bun aside to climb into Jonathan’s lap. Jonathan clutched the leg of Bun and wrapped an arm around Will, holding him tight. He was warm. “I love you, Jonathan.” Will kissed his cheek.

“I love you too.” He said it quietly. Even if his dad wasn’t home, he still stayed quiet. After all, the only person who needed to hear him was close enough that he didn’t have to try to be loud.

[xirayn]

When It's Cold

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

“I can be your blanket if you get cold,” Jonathan offers. “Hm.” Steve’s tongue wets his lips. Jonathan is momentarily transfixed by the movement over the bow of their shape and the texture created by the delicate crinkles of chapped skin. “We can share body heat,” Jonathan continues when he gets no further response. “We’ll open our jackets and I’ll sit in your lap so we can snuggle.” An eye cracks open to peer at Jonathan. “Snuggle?” or On the way back to college, Steve and Jonathan get stuck in a snow bank.

The scraps grew into a one-shot.

Shout out to @aibhlynn @faithfulcat111 @deviantnation and @nomadic-wolf for their encouragement.

[xirayn]

When It's Cold

The scraps continue to form something thanks to all the encouragement I've gotten. Previous parts have also been rewritten, so keep an eye out for whenever this makes it to AO3.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

“Jonathan,” Steve groans, the hint of a plea in his voice, “don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not.” Jonathan makes a decision and leans in, fitting his lips against Steve’s in a kiss that lingers through the bridge between verse and chorus. He sits back and the double stroke of the drum matches the pounding of his heart.

What-ifs now dingy with regret fall over Jonathan’s trust issues with each its own unique form of rejection as he waits for Steve’s response. He stays still, once again a rabbit frozen at the threat of detection. His inner dialogue becomes loud enough to reprimand him for being so bold. Being attracted to men doesn’t mean Steve is attracted to Jonathan. Even if he is, he wants to get married and have kids and donate blood. Jonathan can’t expect him to give that up anymore than he could expect Nancy to give up her big plans.

Steve offers a wordless counter to Jonathan’s doubts by pulling him back in with a hand on the nape of his neck. He takes Jonathan’s upper lip, eagerly learning the contours of its shape with a press and part that melts away any remaining insecurity. Jonathan kisses back as the song changes to ‘The Promise’ by When in Rome. It is too basic for Jonathan’s tastes, the typical moody yet danceable attempt at making new wave more radio-friendly by stripping away its punk origins, but Steve likes it, so Jonathan put it on the mixtape anyway. He parts his lips at the gentle touch of Steve’s tongue and meets it with his own. 

The sound of a soft moan resonating from the back of Steve’s throat ignites the tinder of sensitive nerves. Jonathan presses closer, burrowing into the warmth radiating from Steve. His lips leave Steve’s to kiss along the constellation of moles he had mapped earlier.

A honk from outside causes Jonathan to launch himself into the passenger seat. He looks at Steve, seeing the same fight or flight staring back at him. His panic quickly shifts to relief when he realizes someone has found them. Soft laughter breaks the tension. Freezing to death might be better than being torn apart by monsters or shot up by the military, but Jonathan would appreciate the opportunity to see where things went with Steve before he died. He takes his camera off the dashboard and takes a picture. It earns him a good-natured eye roll before Steve starts to get out of the car to talk with the driver who found them.

“Hold on,” Jonathan calls. He opens the glove box where he knows Steve keeps his gloves among the napkins and a surprising amount of lighters for someone who no longer smokes. Steve accepts them with an achingly fond smile. Jonathan takes another picture.

With the extra help, they are able to push the car back onto the road. The Stone Roses play ‘I Wanna Be Adored’ on the mixtape as Jonathan waits for Steve to say something. He wonders if Steve is similarly waiting for him. Maybe nothing needs to be said and they are just together now. Or maybe Steve is rethinking everything now that death is less imminent. The possibility keeps Jonathan waiting as ‘The Killing Moon’ by Echo & the Bunnymoon is followed by ‘Rock the Casbah’ by The Clash. The tape ends.

[xirayn]

Harry Styles and Charlie Heaton starring in a The Prince and the Pauper adaptation.

[xirayn]

Send me ideas/sippets of how Steve lightly doms Jonathan into accepting help.

Another Stonathan scrap featuring Steve domming lightly bullying Jonathan into taking care of himself post season 2.

---

"Get in bed, Byers."

Jonathan throws a glare at Steve before going back to cooking. He feels warm despite the oncoming cold of winter seeping through the inadequate weatherization of the house. At the same time, chills shiver beneath his skin. There is no denying he is sick, but his mother is grieving Bob in addition to working and Will is recovering from being possessed so Jonathan doesn't have the luxury of rest.

Steve grabs his wrist.

"Get," he repeats slowly, "in bed."

He takes the wooden spoon, his grasp gentle yet unyielding. A step into Jonthan's space drives him away from the stove. He continues to glare at the intrusion, his upper lip nearly curling up into a snarl.

"Now," Steve orders without looking up from the mac and cheese he has taken over stirring.

"You can't-"

The protest is cut off by an inquiring look that doesn't dare Jonathan to protest as much as it asks what he could possibly have to say that is worth hearing. Jonathan barely has the energy to stand, much less argue. He still goes to the couch instead of his bed for the sake of his own rebellious spirit.

He wakes without knowing he fell asleep. An afghan has been draped over him and a squeeze bottle is set on the coffee table. He starts to sit up only to be hit with a wave of vertigo that convinces him to stay down. Voices drift in from the kitchen.

“They’re still calling me Zombie Boy.” Will keeps his voice down to let Jonathan sleep. “Jonathan says it’s cool to be a freak, but – “

“It’s not easy,” Steve interrupts. His tone is more genuine than Jonathan thought it was capable of being. “Especially because of people like me who feel like the only way to make ourselves feel bigger is by making others feel small.”

“You aren’t like that anymore, though. Right?”

“I’m trying not to be.”

[xirayn]

Sharing my "Steve gets Jonathan to play basketball" agenda.

[xirayn]

hellooo, stonathan wip finished!! i think so atleast, maybe i'll work on it some more later

WARNING!!! sh scars on jonathans arms

[xirayn]

Is this anything?

A/B/O stonathan scrap under the cut.

One of the largest misconceptions about omegas is that they are docile or weak. The truth is that their aggression just isn't performative. While an alpha will try to prevent violence through displays of dominance, an omega is quiet one moment and lashing out the next. Steve got first hand experience with just how quickly an omega could go on the attack when he provoked Jonathan in the alley. Of course the most dangerous an omega gets is when they are protecting their pack, which Steve is currently getting first hand experience with, also courtesy of Jonathan. At least this time he isn't the target.

A snarl challenges the demodog as Jonathan picks up the nailbat Steve dropped when he was attacked. The monster turns from trying to break through the door Will ducked behind after hitting it with a few shots to draw it's attention. When it lunges at Jonathan, he thrusts his weapon down it's throat and uses it's momentum to smash it into the ground. He yanks the weapon free then brings it down again. Steve is just conscious enough to be impressed. Then, with the threat gone as much as it ever is in the Upside Down, his eyes start to close as the darkness creeps over him.

"Jonathan!" Dustin yells from where he is applying pressure to the claw marks gouged into Steve's side.

"Shit."

A bright, woody floral catches the alpha's nose. There is a richly sweet note to it that stirs his instincts enough to keep him awake. He raises his head from where it has fallen to his chest to sniff the air.

Jonathan strips his flannel off to pack Steve's wounds with, tying the sleeves to secure it in place. He pulls out his pocket knife and flips it open.

"What are you doing?" Dustin asks.

"He's going to die if we don't do something to keep his heart pumping," Jonathan explains as he presses the blade against a scent gland on his neck. He drops the knife beside him then reaches for Steve. "And unless you have an adrenaline shot, this is the only way I know how."

A hand on the back of Steve's head guides him closer to the cut. The alpha wets his lips and breaths in to taste the pheromones drawing him in. His tongue gathers the blood with a slow lick. The motion is repeated until instinct drives him to press his teeth against Jonathan's skin. When he pauses before piercing flesh, Jonathan trills an invitation.

Mating bonds can be broken, after all.

The initial pain of the bite is quickly drowned under a euphoric flood of bonding chemicals. They slot Steve into the pleasure center of Jonathan's brain right up against the spot Nancy still owns despite their breakup. The initial thrill of it settles into a warm glow that holds promises of love and partnership. Jonathan learned from his parents not to trust those promises. Maybe if they put in the work, but that is a dangerous thought. He pushes it away with the knowledge that whatever either of them are currently feeling is as temporary as any high.

A rumble resonates from the alpha's chest as he soothes the wound with his tongue. Arousal sparks between them, but their surroundings keeps it from catching. When Steve's higher functions return, he stills. Jonathan can feel the tension gathering in the set of his shoulders. Then an unexpected kiss is placed against the bite mark and Steve is pushing himself to his feet, the surge of adrenaline meant to help him defend his claim giving him the second wind needed to stay alive. Jonathan stands beside him. Their eyes meet. Steve's fingers flex with the desire to touch. He opens his mouth.

"Later," Jonathan murmurs to cut off anything Steve might say. Consequences can wait for the hospital.

[xirayn]

There is already so much movement and character in this. I'm looming forward to seeong the final piece.

hi, stonathan wip!!

[xirayn]

“Hi.”

“… hi?”

AU where Jonathan accidentally falls off his skateboard and it rolls away in the direction of an unsuspecting Steve Harrington who brings it back to him and also they become childhood friends

[xirayn]

I got to see Pavements at a local film festival and it is a satire about a Pavement's comeback tour, biopoc, musical, and museum all being made at the same time while also being a documentary about the band.

There are a few clips of Joe Keery portraying Stephen Malkmus, but he is mostly playing a caricature of himself preparing for the role.

Hopefully that clears up any confusion and helps manage people's expectations. It is a good movie, just very in the spirit of Pavement.

I actually can’t wait to see this even know I’m so confused by it😁😁. Joe & Fred look so good 🥰

[xirayn]

Like Biting Bats (Very Metal): Track 7: Bat Slayer (Remastered)

Featuring @aibhlynn as Eddie

Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016) Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eddie Munson Lives, Post-Vecna (Stranger Things), Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Rating May Change, Singer Steve Harrington, Guitarist Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Gay Eddie Munson, Recreational Drug Use, Eddie Munson & Steve

Steve and Eddie start a band.

Read it on AO3