#(I can't choose for Dustin)

[xxcreamixx]

My sexuality hcs for the party :D

[lovebugism]

Hi!!!

Could you write jealous!eddie x reader…🫣

I’m down so bad for this man istg

ty for requesting :D i too am down bad for this man — grump!eddie can't believe other people get to look at you (jealous!eddie, established relationship, 1.7k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie thought the comic book section of Family Video was the coolest thing in the world until he met you. And it’s weird ‘cause now you’re all he can think about. He’s holding a collector’s item in his hands, but all he can see is you — and how close you’re standing to Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

The boy lays two VHS tapes on the counter before you, each packaged in a thick plastic case. My Neighbor Totoro and The Land Before Time. He waits for you to make an impossible choice while you idle just ahead of him, elbows propped on the countertop with your head in your hands. Your wide-eyed gaze darts between the two options.

Your head shakes between your palms. “I can’t decide,” you conclude, rising to full height with a final huff. “It’s like choosing your favorite child.”

“Well, good thing you don’t have to,” Steve quips with a lopsided smirk. His nose scrunches, and it makes his honey eyes sparkle. “‘Cause you’re getting both. On the house.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell him, brows pinched in a quiet sort of protest.

He drops the tapes into a plastic bag, then shrugs like his hand slipped. “Too late.”

“Won’t your boss get mad?”

“What Keith doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me,” you agonize, face twisted with every bit of it.

Steve meets your worry with a wider, pink grin. He bounces a shoulder and jostles the nametag pinned haphazardly to his emerald vest. “I’ll be fine, alright? I’m strong— I can take one of Keith’s stupid lectures.”

Your hesitant fingers brush his golden ones when you take the bag from him. “You’re so brave, Steve Harrington,” you lilt with a teasing glint in your eye, tilting your cheek to your shoulder to feign sincerity.

“The bravest, actually,” the boy jokes in return.

Eddie watches all this play out from where he lingers at the comic book stand. A whole rack of his favorite superheroes, and he isn’t paying an ounce of attention to a single one. 

He was only halfway listening at first, still mostly focused on the cartoon in his hands — if only to pretend he wasn’t completely eavesdropping on your conversation. But now he’s outright staring the two of you down, with an unabashed glare pointed at the asshole flirting with his girl. 

“God, he’s disgusting,” Eddie grumbles under his breath when Steve says something that makes you laugh.

He’s not talking totally to himself. Not entirely, anyway. Dustin’s crouched just beside him in search of one of the newer comics that he swears Keith is hiding from him. “He’s just being nice,” the curly-haired boy reasons with a shrug, obviously distracted as he flips through a stack of flimsy magazines.

Eddie scoffs and finally turns away from you to look at the boy below him. He blinks for the first time in several minutes as he shoots the kid a deadpan stare. “Oh, so it’s not because he thinks my girlfriend’s hot?”

“He’s definitely doing it because she’s hot,” Dustin answers without thinking twice.

“Watch it, Henderson.”

“You asked!” he argues, tilting his chin to look up at Eddie with a wide, ocean-eyed stare. “I’m just saying. Steve’s a good guy. He wouldn’t do that to you— Now, can you please help me find this stupid comic book before I lose my mind?”

Eddie huffs. He decides it might be healthier to distract himself with this metaphorical treasure hunt than stare daggers at you and Steve from across the room. “Which one are you looking for again?”

“Metamorpho— The original. Not the stupid reprint that just came out.”

The older boy stills. He closes the comic book between his palms with one pale hand until the cover of it flips down. Metamorpho, the vibrant cover reads, The Element Man. He’d been too busy looking at you, he hadn’t realized he’d been hiding the thing from Dustin for five whole minutes.

“Is this it?” Eddie murmurs, shoving the thing in the boy’s face.

Dustin’s head shoots up. He snatches the thing from the boy’s grip and gapes at it, with all his practiced teenage boy dramatics. “You had it the entire time?!” he shouts, but Eddie’s already sauntering to the front counter — where Steve’s still making you laugh. 

As pretty as you are smiling (so much that it makes his chest ache), there’s a simmering anger burning orange in his chest. Making you laugh is his job. Not Harrington’s.

You seem to notice his presence before he’s even wrapped you in his arms. You flash him a beaming grin that makes his stomach whirl. He gets sick with it — with nostalgia or something equally tender. 

The green of his envy starts to fade when he realizes you’re wearing his skull and cross-bones sweater, all bundled up in it like it’s yours. He feels a primal sense of ownership, knowing that you’re swaddled in something that belongs to him, knowing he has you in a way Steve doesn’t. It’s not every day the local freak gets to one-up the king.

“Ready to go?” Eddie grins, rosy and broad, as he wraps his arms around you in a loose, sideways embrace. The warmth of the proximity has your stomach doing backflips. The familiarity of his scent, musky and woody and smoky, makes your heart thud hard against your ribcage.

“Yep,” you nod, still smiling. “Steve’s letting me get the movies for free.”

Eddie’s lips smack against his teeth as his jaw drops in a feigned sense of awe. His wild curls bunch at his shoulder when his head tilts softly sideways, looking at the boy across the counter. “Aw,” he croons, high-pitched and sarcastic. “Isn’t that sweet?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Shut up before I revoke your comic stand privileges.”

Eddie squints. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Munson.”

Eddie, deciding to be the bigger person, chooses to abandon the petty argument. He feels like the bigger person, anyway — like he’s ten feet tall, walking out of Family Video with you under his arm. He could lose a thousand arguments and still feel like a winner as long as he gets to crawl home to you.

You can’t help but notice how weird he’s being, though. There was a foreign bite behind his words as he spat his sarcasm at Steve. The tension follows you even now, as he opens the passenger side door of his van for you. 

Eddie holds onto the rusted latch with a pale, tattooed hand. You turn to face him instead of planting yourself onto the chipping pleather seat. “Are you okay?” you ask, a subtle furrow between your brows when you peer at him from beneath your lashes.

The boy scoffs a boyish laugh, obviously overcompensating. “Yeah, I’m fine— what are you talking about?”

Your eyes narrow. “You’re being weird.”

“I think you’re being weird, doll— interrogating me outta nowhere.” 

He expects you to laugh. Then he could tell you how pretty you are, and you’d be so flustered by the compliment that you’d forget this entire conversation ever happened. You don’t laugh, though. You don’t even crack a smile. You just keep staring at him.

“I’m fine,” Eddie groans, wild curls billowing when a breeze rolls by. He still tries to smile, though the bright pink expression doesn’t quite meet his eyes. He shrugs and tries to play it cool because anything less than that is so not metal. “I’m just… I’m just a little annoyed. That’s all.”

Your chest stings and your stomach starts to ache. Your mind reels as you try to understand what you could’ve done because the oh-so-sensitive you feels like it must be your fault.

“Annoyed at me?” you press in a tiny voice.

“No!” Eddie booms instantly, much louder than you. He quietens, but his face still swirls with protest. He could never be annoyed at you. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve never done anything wrong in your life. “No— are you kidding? You’re perfect.”

He takes your face in his ringed hands, cradling your cheeks until they squish softly together. A perfect thing, indeed.

“Then what happened?” you mutter through your gently jutted lips.

The boy drops his chin to his chest and sighs. He hates that you care so much about him that you actually make him talk about his feelings. He’d much rather bottle them up and save ‘em for a rainy day. But no, you love him enough to pry the hidden emotion from his cold, black heart.

“I don’t know,” he answers first in an inaudible murmur, kicking at loose pebbles on the concrete because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. “Sometimes it gets annoying when… Other people look at you, I guess…”

He peeks at you beneath his long lashes, button eyes made of chocolate. They swim with a glittering emotion. Something tender and sheepish. He’s like a puppy when he looks at you this way. You can’t help but find him utterly adorable accordingly.

He’s a little surprised when his words make you laugh. He wasn’t joking, really, but he’s relieved to hear the honeyed sound. It runs over him like drops of summer rain and absolves him of all his envy.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think I can fix that,” you reply, smiling wide between his calloused palms.

“I know,” he whines, pouting softly. “And it sucks. ‘Cause you’re too pretty for your own good.”

You lean further into his warm hand. You blink at him with pretty eyes, and in a pretty voice, you wonder, “Would it make you feel better if I said that I only care when you’re looking at me? And that everyone else is basically invisible when you’re around?”

Eddie’s heart swells so much it starts to ache. You’ve awoken something in him — something that used to be dead before you came around, or something that didn’t exist at all. It’s something golden and made of velvet. Something warm and honeyed. Something that doesn’t have a name because you don’t even know you’ve invented it.

Despite trying not to smile too wide, a beam begins to pull at the corners of his mouth. A second later, and he’s grinning with all his teeth. He gets all shy, ducking his gaze as he nods at you. “Yeah, actually��� that does make me feel a little better.”

You beam up at him, all lovesick and stupid. With your cheeks still in his hands, you rise to the tips of your toes and press a smacking kiss to the flushed apple of his cheek.

Eddie figures it doesn’t get more metal than this.

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

Somewhere Only We Know

Dustin wants to know why Eddie despises you over every other member of the dark side. You're just some cheerleader, right? What could you have possibly done to incur Eddie's wrath?

Starts off with Dusty Buns POV, then Eddie then yours.

Mentions of weed, Jason being a prick, Eddie pines but won't admit it... Mdni. Vecna? Who's Vecna.

🖤💌

Dustin truly thought Eddie Munson was one of the coolest people he had ever known, Steve of course was on that list of total badasses as well.

However for all, Dustin knew of Eddie and that was a lot (the guy made his feelings loud and clear on a variety of things, conformity, Jason Carver, why metal was the superior genre of music, Jason Carver.

But in the few short months since Dustin joined Hellfire and was taken under Eddie's wing, there was one topic he wasn't so clued up on, and that was you and the mystery of why Eddie seemed to despise you above everyone else in this school.

He had tried to casually bring the topic of you up, sure you were a cheerleader and on the dark side and Eddie hated conformity and shit but clearly you had done something painful to Eddie for him to hate you like this.

Dustin wasn't exaggerating either, anytime you and Eddie were in the same vicinity of each other it was like the temperature dropped in the room and Dustin was chilled to the bone at the icy glares between you and Eddie.

Literally, the mention of your name had Eddie's eyes filling with disdain. "She's a traitor and can't be trusted, don't ask about her again Henderson" Eddie snapped during one lunch break when Dustin brought you up out of curiosity.

"Uh meaning?" he asks confused but not wanting to piss Eddie off any further. His question is ignored until Gareth answers it quietly.

"She used to be in Hellfire, then she tried out for a spot on the cheerleading squad and got in. Refused to choose between the two, said she could do both and that Eddie was being an asshole, they had a big fight and she left Hellfire. It broke Eddie's heart even though he pretends otherwise"

Well, shit. "Don't tell him I told you that dude and don't bring her up again. Touchy subject" Dustin nods and expects that's the last he will hear about you.

It's not.

💌

Eddie ignores the chatter around him while his gaze is solely focused on you. Jackson had been hanging around you constantly and for some reason, it pissed Eddie off. Couldn't he enjoy his pretzels and Yoohoo in peace without seeing such a sickening display?

If Eddie felt a twist in his gut every time Jackson got too close to you then that was his business.

"Can't they go to the bleachers and hash it out so I don't have to bring up my lunch every time Jackass decides to flirt" Eddie snaps and narrows his eyes at you, Gareth rolls his eyes and Jeff hides his snort behind a cough when Eddie's glare is aimed at him.

"Dude she's not even interested in him. He was an asshole when they dated and she got sick of him within two weeks" Jeff is apparently very informed on the matter and this annoys him even more.

"You're very informed on the dating lives of the dark side Jeff?" Jeff shrugs and mutters something under his breath, something suspiciously like he still talks to you from time to time.

This would be Eddie's next rant. Giving the time of days to traitors was not in the Hellfire handbook, just because they had pretty eyes and a sweet but deadly smile was not an excuse to break said rule.

Unfortunately, he has a deal to make, the rant would be adjourned to another time. "Gentlemen, I must leave you now to embark on a quest for gold in the deep dark woods" he bows then heads out to his spot in the woods.

Waits for ten minutes and thinks that whoever it is isn't coming. All he had to signify the meeting was a note in his locker and he's still unsure if he's walking into a trap by Carver.

Impatient and just about to give up, he gets up and then stills when he sees you walk into the clearing. What the shit... Since when did you smoke weed? He's never known you to do it in any of the time he's known you.

"Munson" you nod and he closes his gaping mouth as you join him on the table, he expects you to be tense but you close your eyes and enjoy the cool wind and the peace of just the birds singing and leaves rustling gently. He forgot how much you liked being out here.

He clears his throat refusing to get lost in memories and you sigh, open your eyes and he stares back impassively. "Surprised Jackass isn't hanging off you like a limpet" he snarks and you roll your eyes at his tone.

"Jackson' you emphasize ''needs to take a hint. Look, Megan asked me to pick up weed for the party this weekend, so we can cut to the chase" Eddie snorts, you never did have time for bullshit.

"How much do you want?" you shrug and place twenty-five bucks on the table.

"Carver is paying apparently" There is a glint of mischief in your eyes and you smile impishly. Eddie does not get lost in that smile, no way. He clears his throat and smirks.

"Well if it's Carver's money" he takes the full amount and is surprised when you unsuccessfully try to hide a smile. He sobers up and plays with his rings, looks at you briefly then speaks again.

"Uh, it's potent so just make sure that you don't get overboard" he spits it out quickly, like he doesn't care either way what you do. You pause before getting up and there's that soft smile again.

"Careful Munson, anyone would think you still care about me'' there's a sadness to your tone and Eddie watches you go. There's an ache in his chest that feels all too familiar.

💌

You loved cheerleading, the closeness you felt with the rest of the team, learning routines together and having each other's backs. The close friendship you had with Chrissy and Tina. It was senior year and the cheer squad were on the precipice of winning a trophy for the school.

In that sense your life was perfect. In other ways not so much. You hated Jason but tolerated him for Chrissy. Jackson wouldn't stop bugging you to go back out with him, even though you had barely dated him for two weeks and grew tired of his jealous and demanding behaviour.

No way were you going down that road again. Then there was Eddie Munson, who hated you and made that feeling known, he was the bane of your existence and yet you were so tired of the animosity between you both.

Most of all you were sick of Jason and his stupid superiority, boy did he never let you forget that you didn't belong with the cheer squad. He all but cornered you after lunch to rant at you for laughing at one of Eddie's stupid jokes at Jason's expense.

It was a reflex. That's all and it was funny to see Jason brought down a peg or two.

"Don't think I forget where you came from freak, you can easily go back to obscurity playing Dungeons and Dwarves with Munson and his band of geeks" Jason snaps and you meet his gaze with unwavering intensity.

"Dragons", He looks confused and you smirk ''Its Dungeons and Dragons, dumbass" you tack on dumbass at the end just to piss him off even more, how dare he threaten you? Who did he think he was?

Sometimes you wished you could just go back and be a part of Hellfire Club again, a club that so easily accepted and looked after their own. Cheerleading was similar to that but the people in your friends circle sure liked to ruin any sense of security you felt. Mostly Jason and some of his Neanderthal friends.

Jason snorts and then he slams the locker beside you hard and it rattles you but you don't show it, when that doesn't work Jason knocks the books out of your hands and they go flying and he stomps on them before he leaves.

His laughter echoes down the hallway and you shout after him that he's an asshole, gather the books as best as you can and freeze as your well-loved copy of The Hobbit which already isn't in the best state falls apart completely.

Tears pool in your eyes and you hastily wipe them away, it's just a book, it's just a book you chant in your head but it doesn't work. It's been your constant companion since you were nine and it breaks your heart to see it tattered and broken.

Ringed hands help gather the rest of your work and you whimper. Shit, not him. Not now. Hastily you wipe your tears away and stand up, meet Eddie's gaze as he holds your books for you.

He looks begrudging in helping you but slowly his features soften at your tears, he looks at the tattered book in your hand, at the faint smudge of a shoe print.

"Who...Carver did this?" he growls and you nod still seething but the anger is ebbing away to sadness.

"I've had that book since I was nine and I know I can buy a new one but it's not the same, I hate him and I hate his stupid bullshit king title. He's an asshole and his group of Neanderthal friends and he can't even get the name of D&D right and I miss...'' you swallow and Eddie's anger melts away, his gaze intent on you.

"What do you miss?" he asks softly and you figure you've already spilled out some secrets so why not indulge one more.

"I miss Hellfire and I miss y...everyone" you hurriedly say and hope Eddie didn't notice the slip ''but everyone hates me now"

Eddie gently hands you back your books and you thank him. He's silent for a moment then speaks up.

"Everyone misses you too" he is about to walk away when you stop him. Your heart is racing but you have to be sure.

"Everyone?" you confirm and he knows what you're asking, if everyone includes him. He nods and reaffirms what he said.

"Everyone sweetheart and one more thing... no one hates you" he walks away at that point, runs to catch up with one of the freshmen in Hellfire and steals his hat. A laugh bursts out from you as you watch Dustin? as he chases Eddie around the hallway.

Yeah, you do miss Hellfire...and Eddie.

♥️

When you get to your locker on Monday morning there's something jammed in your locker so that it isn't fully closed. When you open the locker, a book falls out and you recognise the cover immediately.

A new copy of The Hobbit. You pick the book up and hug it to your chest, eyes sparkling with tears. You know exactly who left it in your locker but the little note of crumpled-up paper falls out.

It's clearly ripped from a Dungeon Masters notebook. All that's on it is a small message in a messy scrawl but it makes your heart skip several beats anyway.

Since Carver ruined the first copy, I thought you might want another.

E M 🖤

💞💞💞💞💞💌

[smalltownrobin]

So I finished reading The Dustin Experiment, and naturally I have to share some of the good Robin content 😁 (mostly stobin hehe)

Steve picking up Robin from school, which I'm choosing to believe he does regardless of if they have a shift together or not

Good ol' stobin banter

Girlie being overdramatic about losing her job (which with hindsight... well shit)

Taunting Steve with a paper football (and Dustin helping... oh the evil things they could do to that boy together)

Being terrible at emotional comfort yep thousand percent canon

Not exactly a Robin moment but DAMN this kid will not let the idea of Steve dating Robin go 😭 I know he doesn't know but... SHUSH

ROVICKIE MENTION ROVICKIE CRUMBS I SCREAMED and once again... the hindsight of Robin saying she can't drive... OH THE HINDSIGHT

Just the image of Dustin getting Robin to record sound effects on her trumpet for him UGH I love them

Robin basically becoming a school guidance counsellor for the party and making them do floor time

STOBIN TRUST FALL. STOBIN. TRUST. FALL. the way he doesn't even argue they just do it OHHH MY FAVOURITE BESTIES

Just more of Robin being an eerily good guidance counsellor... like real teacher energy (also NO WAY is that girl afraid of spiders I'm sorry)

One final stobin moment (including Steve participating in Robin's exercise when he didn't need to... my heart)

There is of course more good moments that aren't Robin based (including Eddie being shit scared of ducks... I cackled), so I would recommend reading the full thing!! If anything it will help with the pre-s5 content drought 🙏

[love-byers]

st4 music coding: yearning and miscommunication (& lumax/byler parallel)

alright here we go

this will be long so strap in

(yes this is the post i've been hyping up for like 3 days lol)

there's a song that i noticed plays twice in season 4, in two very similar scenes, and a third that ill talk about later. the first is lucas looking at the hellfire club celebrate, and the second is will looking at mike and el skate ahead of him. i've drawn a few interesting parallels here that i think really strengthen byler endgame. please watch the video above in tandem with reading the post

first of all the obvious: lucas and will are both yearning to be with what/who they're looking at. lucas wanted to be there for the end of the campaign. he asked them to move it, not cancel it. he wanted to be there because he likes being in the club and he loves his friends. and we all know will byers is devastatingly in love with mike wheeler, so that speaks for itself. lucas and will are both feeling rejected, forgotten, unneeded, replaced. they are also both looking at their sibling taking their place. erica took lucas' place in hellfire, and el has taken will's place at mike's side. mike and el were attached at the hip the whole day, and that used to be mike and will. will knew mike long before el did, and before they started dating mike and will were a firm duo. mike and el were heavy on the PDA that day, but mike used to be affectionate towards will too, putting his arm around him, holding his hand, sticking close to him, laying his head on his chest, hugging him, etc etc. now mike can't even hug him. and there's a special sting about your sibling of all people replacing you, and seeing your friends (or crush in will's case) having a great time without you, with the better version of you, not needing you, not even thinking of you. and right there, ladies and gentleman, is where will and lucas are wrong. sure, the hellfire club were happy with erica and about the fact that they won, but they wanted lucas there. the whole reason mike and dustin were upset in the first place was because lucas was choosing the basketball team over them. they accepted that lucas had "gone to the dark side" and went on to find his replacement. they feel like lucas doesn't need them anymore, that he's replaced them with the jocks. and little do they know, that is not true. lucas misses them and yearns to be over there celebrating with them. and though it doesn't seem like it in that moment (lucas' point of view), they miss him and want him there too. they are miscommunicating. the same is going on with mike and will. will feels rejected, ignored, replaced. he thinks mike has basically forgotten he was there. he thinks mike couldn't give half a shit about him. he thinks mike doesn't need him. he will soon find out that that could not be farther from the truth. mike was HOT AND FUCKING BOTHERED. he felt rejected by will. he felt like will was purposefully pulling away. he felt ignored. he felt replaced by will's non-existent friends and maybe even a girl will liked. he felt like will didn't need him anymore, that will was doing great without him. he felt like he had lost will. he, like the hellfire club, accepted (or attempted to accept) that they weren't wanted or needed and leaned heavy into filling that void. (meanwhile lucas' replacement wasn't sufficing, and will didn't even have one). and little does mike know, that is all wrong. he missed will just as much as will missed him. he'd been watching will all day hoping will would talk to him. meanwhile will thinks mike has looked at him like...twice, and so does the audience, because we got will's pov first. this is why the rink o mania fight is so all over the place and dramatic, they're basically running smack dab into each other at full speed. they're both confused because the other suddenly cares about their relationship, and they're both hurt. they are miscommunicating. the hellfire club enjoyed having erica there, but she's not lucas. mike enjoyed hanging out with el, but she's just not will. meanwhile , lucas' replacement for hellfire wasn't sufficing, and will never tried to replace mike at all.

onto more specifc and visual parallels: lucas, el, will, and mike all fake smiles. i really want to stress el and mike, because not a lot of people realize that shot is about both of them. mike is faking a smile too. mike is upset too. mike is trying to appear happy and satisfied too. like y'all please cut my son some slack he was having a BAD DAY. his whole day was shitty too just have some empathy. if you really pay attention, you'll see that mike and el are doing the exact same things in tandem. mike sighs, el sighs. mike fakes a smile, el fakes a smile. mike's smile falls, el's smile falls. they're both trying to conform, trying to pass of lies as reality. "I try to laugh about it, cover it all up with lies... I try to laugh about it, hiding the tears in my eyes..."

now lastly: the scene of max listening to the radio call of the game. this falls right in line with the themes of the other scenes. she feels like lucas is doing great without her, like she's not needed. his life is just getting better and better and hers is getting worse. but she's got it all wrong too. she turns it off when the radio guy says "He must be feeling on top of the world right now". he was not. he was feeling shitty and missing his friends. he was missing max desperately, all the time. and he felt rejected by max, like she was steadily pulling away from him. and unlike the others where the distancing happens because of the miscommunication, max and lucas' happened because max distanced herself, and she was not there to see how lucas was really feeling, which was shitty. and yall already know im byler brainrotted as fuck so its extremely important to me that both times this track is used there is romance involved. in the ep 1 scene the song specifically trails into max's scene, roping her into this coding. mike and will are once again paralleled to a canon, requited, well written couple.

i don't really have any closing thoughts

actually here i have one: lucas and will parallels are the reason i wake up and breathe every day

and another actually

at this point to anyone who truly thinks mlvn are getting married:

and byler endgame but wbk

[coveredinsweetpea]

not to be a whore........... but imagine making out with Eddie's buldge through his underwear 😩

🥴🥴🥴 tbh I think there are two different scenarios and I wanted to choose only one to elaborate on but I couldn't so here I go: you're both either too lazy to care and this evolves from a sleepy cuddling session OR you're being needy and clingy, begging for his attention - just a whiny mess basically, and this is all that he's willing to give you. Both detailed under the cut 🥴🥴 (the 2nd one is pure filth, humiliation, degradation etc 18+!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

It's summer, Wayne's not in town and you have all the trailer to yourselves. But it's still early, no one's in the mood to party yet, it's hot and you're both too lazy to move. 

Eddie's starfish on the bed, a comic book having him completely under its spell, while you lay lazily with your head on his tummy, hoping sleep would envelop you. But it doesn't; Eddie's too caught up with a plot twist he didn't see coming, and ideas start coming to you. 

Your eyes fix the outline of his cock and without saying a word, you palm him in your hand, your fingers drawing random patterns on the material of his boxer briefs. 

Eddie doesn't react, at least not to your knowledge, but one eyebrow does pop up. You don't see it however and decide to keep going, moving your hand a bit to the side so you can rub the length of his cock. 

"Sweetheart?" Eddie lifts his comic book so he can look at you, "What are you doing?"

"Nothing"

You don't even look at him, just keep teasing him through his boxers, until he can't help but tense his thighs. "Love?"

"Yeah?" again, you answer without bothering to face him, but this time you do move. Just in the opposite direction, nonchalantly pressing your lips against his bulge. 

The gesture was light, not too sudden or too strong, but the reason he froze for a second is the pure confusion that washed over him. But he doesn't get a chance to ask, because when he feels what you're doing - understands that you're right now literally kissing the length of his cock, he can't help but chuckle. 

"Sweetheart, you know I can take those off for you, right?" Eddie teases, one hand on the top of your head as you keep going.

"Nah" you shrug and wrap your lips around his clothed tip. One of your hands slips lower, your fingers brushing against his balls as you start sucking. 

"Ah fuck" he gasps. But you don't budge.

You keep at it - licking, sucking, grabbing, your teeth lightly grazing the tip of his cock. 

"Baby, damn it" the comic book flies across the room, his attention now fully on you. "You wanna make me cum like that?"

But you don't answer. You just shove your hand up one of the legs of his boxer, cup his balls into your hand, and resume full on making out with his cock. 

The sheer feeling of him getting hard under your lips, the way he can barely control his breathing, how his thighs tense and how his abdomen clenches every time you apply just a little bit more pressure, makes you want to see just how far you can go. 

Brushing your thumb over the wet patches on his underwear, you look up at him, "Yeah, I wanna. Can I try?"

"Try?" he laughs and rubs your cheek with the back of his fingers, "Darling, you're halfway there"

You beam under his praise and resume your quest, eagerly sucking and tugging through the material as his cock visibly stiffens.

"But then you'll take yours off. You can play around all you want, but you know I can't stop until you've made a mess on my face, doll"

Fine by you.

OR

You being clingy isn't anything new. The planets sometimes settle so that some days the only thing you want is his attention and nothing else. And it's usually not a problem, Eddie being more than happy to oblige and give you what you so desperately crave, but there are also days when that is not possible. 

Like this one.

Busy with tasks Wayne left for him, the campaign needing some last minute fixes, Dustin asking for a ride and a Corroded Coffin concert late in the evening - this day is bound to suck for the both of you. 

You manage to compose yourself for as long as you can, but by the time you reach the venue for the show, you're almost out of your mind. Begging, teasing, whining, throwing yourself at other men to get his attention - you do everything in your power to get his attention. But you fail. Miserably. As once you finally get home, things don't play out the way you had hoped - at all. 

"So fucking desperate, like a fucking whore" Eddie scoffs, plopping down on the couch. He spreads his legs and nods, "Do your thing"

Normally, you'd whine and complain, but your brain isn't cooperating so you listen to his command. You kneel in front of him, undo his jeans, and then helplessly look up at him, bottom lip popping out. "Eddie…"

"Do you need help, kitten?"

You nod.

"Do you deserve it? You acted like a dumb slut all night. Why would I help you? You can't even take my dick out, why would I let you suck it?"

"Please, Eddie…" you cry.

"Look into my eyes, doll" he commands, his hand on your chin forcing you to face him. "Apologize for the way you've been tonight"

"I'm- I'm sorry" you sniffle, "Please-"

"Sorry for being such a cock thirsty whore that you can't even function unless you get to have my dick down your throat?"

"...yes"

"Say it, baby. You need to hear yourself saying it. And look into my eyes while you do it, love. Show me how bad you want it"

"Please, Eddie-" you blink, "I'm sorry for being such a whore, but I need it, please. Can I please, please, suck your cock, please?"

And your pleading might have been enough but you'll never know. Eddie doesn't even get a chance to fully strip before he sees the hungry look in your eyes. "Come here" he motions as he stands up, his jeans now pooling around his ankles. "Show me you want it"

For a second, you look up at him in confusion, but the way his cock stretches the material of his underwear has you feral all over again.

So you don't question it, don't complain, you just get to work. He's hard - throbbing almost, the wet patch of precum making your tongue tingle as you make out with his cock as best you can. 

"That's my girl" he grins, patting your head, "My good girl, keep going. Make me cum. If you can do it, you get to swallow it all, baby"

[unclewaynemunson]

@bigskyandthecoldgun made this very big-brained post about the perfect miscommunication potential of Eddie's heart monitor betraying his feelings for Steve while he's recovering. @mostrizzaward asked me to write it and how could I say no to that :D

The first time Steve sets foot in Eddie's hospital room is terrifying. Eddie is as pale as a dead man. He has dozens of wires attached to his body, that are connected to just as many machines and monitors displaying complicated graphs, all softly beeping at varying intervals. Everyone in the room talks in soft, grave voices and all the nurses and doctors have matching serious frowns on their faces.

But what seemed to be impossible happens on a dreary Wednesday afternoon in April: Eddie opens his eyes for the very first time since he passed out in Dustin's arms. Steve is at work when that happens, but rushes to the hospital as soon as he can, and suddenly Eddie's room seems a lot less terrifying than before. Because Eddie is grinning at him from his bed, even though he's still pale and weak. He's not only alive, he's awake. It's a goddamn miracle. His wide grin is familiar despite the big scar that has marred his cheek. Fuck, Steve doesn't think he'll ever be able to put into words how much he missed that smile.

Eddie rasps his name as a greeting and Steve comes closer to the bed. But then, something weird happens.

The machines around Eddie's bed are still beeping, but there's less of them now. The electronic symphony of noises has been reduced to a duet of two different beep patterns that are clearly distinguishable from each other. And one of them speeds up rapidly when Steve leans over the bed in an awkwardly angled attempt to give Eddie a hug.

“You okay?” Steve asks, worried. He wonders if he should call for a nurse.

“Yeah, man,” Eddie mumbles. His eyes flash towards the monitor in question for a second and a blush creeps over his white cheeks. He seems ill at ease; Steve can't quite put his finger on it but there's something weirdly awkward about the whole thing. He seems otherwise fine, though, so Steve decides no nurses will be necessary.

He clears his throat and takes a seat in the chair next to the bed. For a moment, he wonders why he's even here. They weren't exactly friends before all of this happened. It would be perfectly normal for Eddie not to want him around – and yet here he is, visiting him in the hospital like it's the most normal thing in the world. What is he even doing here?

But then, Eddie starts talking about how his uncle was with him when he woke up and gave him this book he's been wanting to buy for ages.

“He cried, Steve, I've never seen him cry in my life, but he was bawling, I'm not kidding!”

Despite his animated tone, Eddie's voice is still weak and his eyes keep falling shut even while he is talking. Steve knows that he shouldn't overstay his welcome and let Eddie rest, but he finds himself too captivated in how alive Eddie is, even though his whole presence – his loud voice, his broad arm gestures, his expressive face – seems a little bit toned down. So when Eddie tells him with a vague gesture to his nightstand that he tried to read his new book, but found himself too tired to focus properly, Steve finds himself proposing to read it to Eddie before he even realizes what he's doing.

And then the weird thing happens again. Eddie starts smiling at the exact same time the heart monitor accelerates.

Steve chooses to pretend like he doesn't notice. Instead, he takes the book from the nightstand and flips it open on the first page. He starts reading aloud, but he can't really keep his attention on the words that come out of his own mouth. He can't help but feel like he made a mistake. Is the heart monitor signaling to him that his presence is making Eddie uncomfortable? Shouldn't he have left Eddie alone to rest when he started getting tired? Why the hell did he ever think it'd be a good idea to read to him in the first place? He's never been a good reader, and certainly not a performer like Eddie. So he awkwardly stumbles his way through the words on the pages, in no way able to keep up with the complicated plot and no doubt failing spectacularly in the use of voices and appropriately ominous pauses and whatnot. Whenever he glances up from the pages, he finds Eddie leaning into his pillow with his eyes closed and a faint smile around his lips, only to find out he's lost track of where he was when he directs his attention back to the book in his hands.

It doesn't take long until Eddie's breathing becomes audibly deeper and evens out. Steve softly closes the book. He allows himself a few moments to do nothing but stare at Eddie's face and be grateful for the absence of a breathing tube between his lips, showing that he's only sleeping this time. Then, he gets up and tiptoes out of the room.

***

The weird thing with the heart monitor keeps happening every time Steve visits Eddie. It happens when he greets him, when he starts reading to him, and especially whenever he helps him adjust his position in the bed he's still chained to. Every time they touch, every time Steve gets close to him in any way, like clockwork. And every time, it's paired with some kind of physical reaction on Eddie's part: a blush on his cheeks, a somewhat forced chuckle, or sometimes even a badly concealed flinch, away from where Steve's hands are touching Eddie.

Steve pretends not to notice it, for Eddie's sake, but it can only happen so many times before he has to face the clear and obvious truth here: his presence is making Eddie extremely uncomfortable.

One part of it still doesn't make sense, though: Eddie actually asks him to read to him or to help him sit up or lie down again, and the next thing he knows, Eddie will suddenly be avoiding his gaze and that goddamn heart monitor will make it sound like Eddie is trying to break a sprint record instead of lounging in his bed, and he'll recoil from Steve's touch like he doesn't want his hands anywhere around him.

Steve muses over Eddie's odd behavior for days before he comes to the only logical conclusion: Eddie is actually repulsed by him and is too polite to tell him the truth. It's the only explanation that makes sense. It's just like what Steve realized so clearly that first time after Eddie woke up: they weren't friends before this, so why should they be now? Steve has no business being at his bedside all of a sudden, and Eddie doesn't have the heart to be mean to him and spell that out for him.

He can't even blame Eddie for it. For most of the time they've known each other, Steve was a major asshole, everybody knows that. Sure, they're twenty now and Steve has moved past high school stereotypes when he got close to Robin, but still... Those stereotypes made up everything about who they were, how they were perceived and who they interacted with for four whole years of their lives – six even, in Eddie's case. Eddie doesn't have any reason to want to let that go like Steve did.

He would never admit it to anyone, but the conclusion he reaches breaks Steve's heart: he should stay away from Eddie. Eddie has every right not to like having Steve around and Steve certainly doesn't want to add to his discomfort. He has been through enough, Steve wouldn't want to make this whole long and painful process of recovery even worse for Eddie by imposing his unwanted presence on him.

It doesn't matter that Steve has started to look forward to his hospital visits like they're the very best part of his week. It doesn't matter that Steve's heart starts racing for whole other reasons than Eddie's whenever they're close, whenever they're touching or whenever Eddie is smiling that beautiful smile of his. It doesn't matter that Steve wants nothing more than to keep reading to Eddie even though he still doesn't have a clue what that stupid book is about. None of it matters, because that's simply the price one has to pay for being an asshole and a bully in high school.

It doesn't matter, because there are way worse things than the guy you've developed feelings for secretly harboring a grudge against you. He still has Robin, he still has his little nerds, he even has Nancy back; as a friend, this time, which is honestly better than things ever were between them. He has the knowledge that Eddie survived and will be getting better with each passing day. Maybe he can start dating again, find a cute girl with blue eyes and blonde hair who doesn't remind him of the one person he can't be around, and it'll all be fine again. It doesn't matter.

Update: there's now a sequel post :D

[steviewashere]

Don't have the energy right now for a full fic, but I want to write this, so here's the idea:

CW: Seahorse Pregnancy/General Pregnancy Things, Gender and Body Dysphoria, Mentions of Birth (But Like...NOT Graphic At All)

Steve (who's trans, because I fucking love inserting myself) finds out he's pregnant with Eddie's baby. They're in their late twenties. By all means, they're in the "right" age range to start a family. They have the money, the space, the supports (in their friends: Dustin, Robin, Nancy, Max, so on and so forth).

And having a child, well having six children, that's been Steve's dream for years. Whether he ends up with his ideal hoard or just a few, he knows he'll be happy.

But his own brain gets in the way.

Everything starts out fine—bumpy like a gravel road, but still capable of being traversed. He has his bouts of morning sickness, which are always miserable and long and disgusting. He gets a few early cravings here and there, nothing too extreme just: mountains of peanut butter, sweet pickles instead of dill straight from the jar, an obscene amount of mixed berry yogurt. Simple things.

And then he starts to show. Like...four months in, he starts to show. It happens seemingly in the blink of an eye. One day he's flat and there's a soft secret under his shirt. The next, he's staring at his own reflection with a rounding out belly and his shirt pulled a little extra taut and the outline of his stomach fully on display. Things are now different.

He's dysphoric as soon as he notices the change. Throwing on baggy clothes, stuff of Eddie's that always seemed a little too big for either of them. Hunching into himself more, despite Eddie's chastising that Steve's going to hurt his back. Laying in bed more often, just so he doesn't catch sight of himself. He starts ducking by mirrors, covering them up with a towel when he showers, with his own robe when he brushes his teeth or cleans his face. Doesn't even want the curtains open, just in case he sees his reflection.

What makes it all come to a head is when he starts drawing away. Completely away from everybody.

He won't let Eddie touch him. Won't let Eddie massage his aching back or rub his feet or play with his hair. He can't stand it when Eddie tries to come up behind him and pet over his belly—immediately snapping and shoving Eddie off with a sore, mean, awful retort. They get into more arguments; some that make Steve so angry he ends up disappearing for a few days back to his parents' house (I like to imagine that Steve's parents aren't actually terrible, he was just a petty teenager), some that drive Steve up a wall and go completely silent on Eddie for hours, he gets mad if Eddie insists he stays in their bed after an argument—choosing to sleep on their uncomfortable couch out of complete spite—and arguments that make him so physically ill, he can do nothing but throw up his lungs afterwards and sob and pull at his hair; Eddie tries to comfort him through those fits, but Steve still doesn't want to be touched, doesn't want Eddie to see him, doesn't want Eddie to love this version of him. He buys a pregnancy pillow way too early and uses it as a divider in the bed, just so Eddie doesn't accidentally cuddle into him while they're sleeping.

Everybody tries to hug him, but he strides right out of the way. They want to feel when the baby kicks, but he slaps their hands away.

It gets to a point where he is completely shut down. He sits in the dark more often than not. He goes silent—just completely non-verbal—for the last three months of his pregnancy. The clothes aren't helping anymore, he's too big to hide.

It gets to a point where he resents his own heart for wanting any of this. Where he partially resents Eddie for wanting all this, too. He regrets the pregnancy entirely. He's still going to love his baby, that's for certain, but he's never, ever doing this again. If they want more children, either they adopt or get a surrogate—which Robin has volunteered for before, and even Nancy volunteered once she realized why Steve had begun acting the way he was; but he refuses to put either of them through this, even if they want to do it for him.

He's numb and hollow by the end of his pregnancy. Carved out and miserable.

When he goes into labor, he's the most terrified and the most dysphoric he's ever been in his life—which is saying something considering his entire pregnancy. He begins contracting and ends up just sitting next to Eddie on the couch, and for the first time in literal months, he reaches out for Eddie's physical comfort. He wants to hold Eddie's hand. He's shaking and sobbing and pale in the face—the fear gets so bad that he has to have Eddie hold a trash can for him to puke into. His water breaks and he just stands in it, soaked through his sweatpants, hyperventilating in the middle of the kitchen, hands white knuckling the counter; doesn't call out for Eddie, who had left very momentarily to use the bathroom, but is met with the most concerned version of Eddie's he's ever seen: voice soft it's damn near a whisper, hands stalling out in front of himself because he's so afraid Steve will refuse his touch again, trying to coach Steve through breathing.

Steve spends hours in active labor. He keeps his head tilted towards Eddie, wide eyes seeking him out. Both of his hands being held in Eddie's. He has to be reminded constantly to breathe, he just gets so exerted while pushing that he forgets to focus on himself.

When he's finally finished and the baby is passed over to him, the first thing he feels is relief—which strikes him so oddly, that he then bursts into fresh tears. Nobody's surprised by his reaction, most new parents cry, too. He's gentle and sweet and doting. Lets the baby be taken for clean up. And then he looks to Eddie, head completely nestled just to watch. To see Eddie watching their kid, his own eyes wide with emotion, with a hand tensing over Steve's shoulder. Steve reaches up and presses his fingertips into the back of Eddie's hand.

And then, in the aftermath, when the baby's asleep, Steve himself doesn't sleep. Eddie tells him, "You can close your eyes, sweetheart. Get some rest, sleep for a little...I'll have Robin come by to visit and drop off some food."

But Steve just keeps staring at Eddie. With this gentle, sad crease between his eyebrows. Mouth downturn. Fresh tears in his eyes.

Eddie asks sweetly, "What's wrong, baby? You need me to get a nurse?"

Steve shakes his head and swallows hard. And reaches his hand out for Eddie's, squeezes when they tangle together. "I'm sorry," he croaks—truly croaks because it's been so long since he's talked.

Something shocked passes over Eddie's face. And then, "Why're you sorry, sugar? You did such a good job, I'm so proud of you, you know that?"

And Steve sniffles and sniffles and chokes out a sob. With a squeaky, "I'm sorry I didn't love you right and I didn't let you help me and...and...and I was mean to you, I'm so sorry."

I think Eddie would get so unbelievably sad in that moment. Just completely heartbroken. Tears down his cheeks. His bottom lip wobbling. A click of his tongue. "Oh, baby," he coos. "Baby, I forgive you, it's okay. It's okay, Stevie. I know that all of this was hard"—

"I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Eddie sighs, almost conceding. But—"Honey"—and he strokes his thumb over the back of Steve's hand, reaches up and brushes hair out of Steve's eyes, combs through tangles—"I don't want you to feel bad at all, okay? We made a decision that altered your life for months. And although some of the arguing went a little too far in some ways, I'm not going to hold it against you. Not at all. I should've had some grace, maybe took the time to try and understand how you'd been feeling—at least more than I already did.

"You did something really incredible. And you braved through it, even though I could tell you wanted to quit it so many times. And we know now that this isn't the way for us to go—and that's okay, sweetheart...it's all okay.

"I still love you just as much as I did when we first started dating. That hasn't changed for me. Just because"—and then he brings both his hands to Steve's cheeks, wiping at them with his palms—"oh baby, you don't need to cry over"—

"But you're being so nice! I don't...I don't know why"—

"Because I love you," Eddie murmurs fiercely. "You are so perfect, Steve. And you are so brave and you are so kind and you are so, so, so fucking good. And I am so"—Eddie chokes around his own sob—"god, I am so proud of you for sticking with it. I am just so proud of you in general. But I never, never want to see you miserable like that again; I don't think my dumb heart can take it, baby. I don't want to have kids like this. Not if it means I lose the love of my life to himself, I really really don't want to lose you."

Steve, almost incoherent, "You didn't lose me, Eds."

"I know, but it felt like it. I didn't know how to help. I didn't know if you'd even let me help. But I never want to find out." He stops wiping at Steve's cheeks and just cradles him instead. "I felt like a dying flower without you, sunshine. And I'm sure you felt a thousand times worse. I'm not gonna leave you and I'm not turning my back on you, no matter how many arguments we get into, no matter how mean we get with each other. I'm remaining right here by you. With you and our little family." He leans down and kisses Steve's lips, wet with tears and shivering with emotion. Against Steve's mouth, Eddie whispers, "I love you even when I can't reach you. I love you even if you think that's impossible. I love you—no matter what, Steve, I just love you."

And now I'm running out of steam on the idea, but uh....yeah. Just wanted to write a take where trans Steve actually has a miserable, miserable time being pregnant. Because I feel like that would be my own reaction, unfortunately—unfortunate for me, may I add, because I want my own kids so bad, but I just know that that's not a dream I can accomplish for myself the original way I intended. Anyway.

I love them so bad. I love them persevering anyway.

[miwiheroes]

Dropping Byler Evidence Every (Other) Day Until Season 5

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . Day 35: D&D Substitute Scene . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .

The D&D substitute scene, aka the scene where Mike and Dustin attempt to persuade random people into being Lucas's replacement, is packed full of queer coding for Mike -- alongside the small shot we get of his bedroom, this scene is supposed to be filled with subtle hints about Mike's character arc this season, particularly about him questioning his sexuality.

The first episode aims to show you what conflicts Mike has in his life before he goes to California, otherwise him acting weird in California would have little context (in a writing sense).

The first part is when Mike bursts in to find Nancy -- when I first watched this back in 2022, girl I thought he was SOOO weird for just standing there and looking around. I figured it was super unnecessary and awkward (maybe just a goofy thing to get a laugh), but they wouldn't have included that for no reason.

Like ^^?? There was no reason for the shot of other people and the whole room unless it for the purpose of showing little details. At first when I decided to examine the scene, I didn't really expect to find anything at all, but if u look closely in the first picture, there's literally a pride flag on one of the items on the table.

Of course, you can't only rely on this little detail for queer coding because there are also other aspects of this scene that we must consider:

At the beginning Mike looks completely frozen in place, like he hadn't been expecting this many people or he's embarrassed. They all look around at him which is supposed to symbolise (imo) his thoughts about the pressure he's feeling to figure himself out, or how seen he feels, in terms of his queerness. (bear with me it all links)

There is ticking in the background, which is supposed to emphasise how long Mike is taking to look around the room.

Nancy is literally in the middle of the room -- How did Mike not see her immediately?

Ergo, he was distracted by something and looking at other people. Mike's literally questioning his sexuality at the beginning of the season anyway, carrying on from the end of S3. The people in the room are all staring at him as if to say -- "who are you going to choose" or something.

You might think this is a reach that Mike is looking at them carefully and considering, but the camerawork literally emphasises the fact that Mike is looking around at these people very purposefully:

Mike looks around first ^

The camera pans quickly like it's supposed to be from his perspective. This is one of the only scenes in which we get his pov in the whole season. And when we do, it's literally Mike panicking about questioning his sexuality. (And for all the bisexual Mike truthers out there, this is definitely proof on that front too, I mean look.)

Okay brace urself because the next part with Mike in it is the most classic 80s-referential queer coding I've seen in my life. Idk why I ever watched this scene without getting the feeling that something is gay about this boy, anyways:

Remember this random extra in the background of Will's solo shot? Super unnecessary to wear this shirt right?

This is supposed to be queercoding for Will, which makes sense because he is canonically confirmed gay in S4, but this hilariously links back to this scene in episode 1:

Wrestling is a contact sport - and this is the very first shot of the next Mike scene, rather than Mike himself. This is basically supposed to kind of highlight the uhhhh queer things that are going on in Mike's head, which is even more interesting when you look at the shot facing Mike:

Not them literally having pairs of men in the background of this shot - it's not even just men by themselves which would be queercoding in itself, but they're all in pairs, as in a M/M couple - i don't get how this was needed unless it's for the purpose of showing Mike questioning his sexuality. If you think about it, the writers and creators chose which parts of the school Dustin and Mike went to pick up a substitute, and it's not just random that they not only decided to put Mike in this situation but have men in tight wrestling gear in the background cmon--

If you think about Dustin being in this scene, it really doesn't make any sense anymore.

Oh yeah and this otherwise unnecessary 5 second POV shot of boys doing this (on the right) definitely doesn't mean anything for what Mike's sexuality is sure yeah yeah...

For the next part, Mike goes to a science lab, which...you might think I'm going to rattle off about this being a symbol for him wanting to 'experiment' with his thoughts and feelings (AND I COULD DO THAT) but this scene doesn't even need me to say much, especially when they have shots like this in it:

There are many things about this scene that imply queercoding:

On one side of Mike there are only boys (particularly two of them), and on the other side there are two girls. I again have to justify myself and say that this isn't just a coincidence. That should be queer coding for a questioning 15 year old boy enough but...

There is literally a sign in the background saying "Women in science" to further highlight the difference between the two opposing sides in Mike's head. This could be bisexual proof, but in my opinion...

The set designers set up a light coming in through the window for a reason. You could try and say it was to make the scene look nicer, but it's clearly lighting up which side Mike prefers, while the side he doesn't is in the shade.

Also there's something about him saying "That's just bullshit media propaganda" whilst being put in a very queer situation that gets me.

The boy at the science table also says "60 minutes begs to differ", which is a very specific line and typical of the time period. The date is 21st of March. Now, if you're well-versed in the lore I'm sure you know where this is going:

The last aired 60 minutes show according to the date - was about the AIDS crisis in America, particularly about the gay community in San Francisco. I'm sure I don't need to say anything more about this significance.

After the guy says that, the experiment goes up in like sparks and flames and I'm sorry to be so so on the nose (though that's kind of the show's fault) but....

I don't know why else they would have had those flames be so prominently in front of Mike's whole torso and head, revealing him to be there after the flames die down if not for this double meaning.

All in all, if we consider that this short scene has this much packed into it, I really can't question the capabilities of the directors and writers to subtly queercode a character (if he is canonically queer next season). Within a minute, Mike is shown to look frozen with pressure as he questions his sexuality, directly put in the pubescent context of gay thoughts (lol), and put in the middle of two options to show which one he has a preference for.

[ven0moir]

S4 Mike was playing a risky game - PART I

You choose how much of this to ✨ Believe ✨

At the conclusion of this exercise I will be trying to piece together what the hell Mike's thoughts were in the van scene, how much he picked up on and what his 'next move' might be following the show's context clues and ideas.

One of the first things we see this season is kids playing games in a rainbow room. This is one of the first show themes the writers want us to stay with.

Next we see El's room. We see her Mike shrine, etc. No games.

When we see Will, we see games + we also learn that he's been painting a lot and El says it is for a girl that he likes because he's been acting "weird." This is the exact information that Mike has.

Then it cuts to Mike and we see games in his room as well.

The objective of Yahtzee is to roll dice ( luck ) to get the highest total score & to get the right combination. Whereas a jigsaw puzzle is based on observation + trying out the placement of each piece to put together the bigger picture.

Bowling, which we see underneath, is about aim & precision ...

Yikes. Important to note that he got so caught up reading El's letter that he lost track of time.

Does he hope the painting is for him? 100%. Does he genuinely believe it is? This is Mr.

We're talking about here. The Worst Assumption, the Worst Case Scenario for Mike is: there's someone that Will likes, and it's A Girl. Will is Straight.

But he can't acquire more knowledge until he is in California, so meanwhile he's probably wrecking his brain re-reading El's letter to see if he can make any new 'connections' that could reveal to him if it's him or not. ( That Dungeon Master strategic brain working overtime when you have a crush and things are out of your immediate control huh, he's so me )

The episode progresses with Mike being moody downstairs because he's currently wrecked with doubt ( talk about meta ) and then Ted says this to the audience ( Karen ).

Ironic, considering Mike saying in S3 that 'women act on emotion, not logic' so his dad hinting he's not being reasonable = Mike is acting weird.

The scene continues. Suzie is using her smarts to help Dustin change his grades, which is something that later wracks her with guilt.

Next we have Robin and Steve, and the conversation is literally them talking about Vickie's queercoding, which according to Steve she 100% is but Robin refuses to believe because she has to be cautious and cannot take a risk unless there's some sort of textual evidence. The comment she makes connects back to Mike through the labyrinth poster in his room, right above his head when he bends down.

Mike, like Robin, can't just act on their feelings because they don't know if they'd be confessing to the 'wrong' person.

Why does this not fit Will? Because Will is deciding to give Mike a painting with a heart on his shield. He's confident enough to make that move. At the start of the season, Will is optimistic that the thing with Mike might be real, whereas Mike is pessimistic that the thing with Will might've been a figment of his imagination.

Anyway, let's continue. I'll summarize what happens next with 'Mike is moping all day at Hawkins High'. Of course, other things he cares about happen that add to this mood, like Lucas ditching him and Dustin to play at the basketball game.

Speaking of games, we have that sequence of the DnD game vs the basketball game. Both games end in victory so we know in the end the good guys will win. But it also means that Mike and Will are going to, inevitably, get together.

Here's the formula their romance follows according to my Byler Master Doc that I'll finish & post one day lmao:

With this in mind, let's go back to Mike ...

PART I CONCLUSION:

Mike starts off the season assuming the worst: that Will is painting for someone he likes that isn't him because he's straight. But a small part of him deep down is hoping it is for him. He decides to acquire more information before deciding how to proceed but at the airport, he was trying too hard to be indifferent when the truth was that he cared a little too much, and self-sabotaged by discouraging Will from giving him the painting.

He succeeded in making Will believe he didn't care. But at what cost?

He failed to acquire the item he needed/wanted: the painting.

Now in Part II we will explore what happened that gave Mike ✨ Hope ✨

[rich1etozier]

On the ground is a bleeding man, a pair of mangled wings sprouting from his back.

Eddie gasps. A faerie. A creature with wings whiter than the silver moon.

The thing on the ground stirs.

Eddie is unable to move, not even when the faerie pushes to his knees, then to his feet, blood from the wound Eddie inflicted spilling down his back like paint.

The thing looks like a man rises to his feet and retreats to the trunk of the willow tree. The white wings shift around him, tensed and flat like a wrinkled shroud. After a moment of deliberation, the faerie finds a suitable perch amongst the roots and settles on his haunches.

Eddie thinks for a moment he’s trying to hide himself like prey, seeing the broken wine bottle and knowing what they’re here for.

But then the faerie fixes his gaze on them, and Eddie’s blood runs cold.

Those eyes. They’re black like Father’s, dilated with too much drink. No white at all, just two black pearls in a sharp, pitiless face.

Eddie shakes on the ground, can't find it in himself to speak. Though, in reality, he knows he should say something. Faeries stand on ceremony. Faeries demand respect. But all Eddie can manage is a cotton-mouthed gasp.

This creature is beautiful, and terrifying.

It’s Dustin who breaks the tense moment. He stands, and steps forward with the lantern, their shadows swaying inside the curtain of the willow fronds. Across the lake, the sun has begun its descent behind the tree line.

“Hello again, Master Raven,” Dustin says, bowing deeply, arms thrown out behind him like a courtier. “We mean you no harm. My brother and I are only appreciating the beauty of the Blackwood on this auspicious night.”

“Yes, yes!” Eddie quickly agrees. He rises finally to his feet, shifts so he’s beside Dustin, playing along with his brother’s half-truth, “We were told of the equinox’s unique effect on the Blackwood, and… desired to see it for ourselves.”

Thick hair falls in the faerie’s eyes, the color of new hay after rain. The strands are long enough to trail around his shoulders, catching occasionally on the stark feathers. His expression remains an unchanged wall of apathy. Birdlike and unfeeling.

Eddie is unable to track where those black marble eyes are looking, but he has the distinct feeling that he in particular is being watched. He’s not sure how he knows it, only feels the gaze like a weight. Shivers move across his body.

“Who are you?” the faerie asks. His voice isn’t melodic. It’s deep and it grates, like scratching bone, like quenching hot iron in cold water.

Eddie staggers backward on his feet, nearly tripping on tall tree roots. “Eddie,” he stutters, before snapping his mouth shut. Don’t speak your name in the presence of fae. But it’s too late, he’s already said it. Eddie pushes Dustin behind him, blood cold. Nervous words pour from his mouth like a compulsion, "Our father is the village smith."

The thing that looks like a man points to the bottle in Dustin’s hands. “And you thought you could catch me? In that?”

Eddie lets out a shaky breath, chooses his next words carefully, “You graciously saved us from certain death. I would not reward help with betrayal.”

The faerie scoffs, emotion overtaking his face for the first time. Disbelief, indignation. “Reward? I do not seek the reward of a human.”

“A kindness, then,” Eddie corrects.

The faerie tilts his head, “But not your thanks?”

He’s trying to trap me. Trying to imprison me with words.

Eddie licks his lips, “No.”

A sound like raven-call escapes up the faerie’s throat. He’s laughing at Eddie. “I see you follow your rules well,” the faerie chuckles, shaking his head. “I do not care much for rules.” His wings unfurl, wide and magnificent—flapping once, twice, until he’s propelled himself within touching distance. He lands with a gentle step, tread so light he makes no prints in the fragile layer of moss. The ripped wings fold back up, limp and bloody, but he doesn’t shudder, doesn’t recoil in pain. He probably can’t feel pain at all. That seems like such a human concern, not something worth troubling over when you’re both more and less than a human.

The faerie closes the distance and suddenly he and Eddie are nose to nose, barely inches apart. They’re close enough that Eddie can see freckles on the faerie’s cheeks—They scatter down his neck in a constellation of dark stars.

“Would you like to play a game with me?” the faerie asks.

Even the horrible, teasing smile on his face is beautiful.

Oh god, don’t get distracted.

What had he suggested? A game?

Eddie wants to play, wants to stay just a moment longer in this creature’s presence. But. “We won’t have any dealings with you.”

“A game is not a deal. A game is for fun.”

“I don’t want to have fun with you.”

Inexplicably, the faerie pouts. It’s a grotesque arrangement of features on his wide, flushed face. Makes him seem both more and less like the faerie he is. Clumsily manipulative. Hatefully endearing. “I’m already having fun with you, whether you want me to or not.”

----

this is an excerpt from Chapter 4 of my Faerie!Steve x Blacksmith!Eddie fic, "The Equinox Game" | Read from the beginning here!

[alexisaflop]

Wait On Your Song - Steve Harrington x Henderson! reader

Chapter 10: Mad Max

Welcome to Season 2! You and Dustin meet the new kids in town and Steve owes you a favour.

Warnings: mild harrassment (Billy is an ass), use of Y/N

MASTERLIST

It's the week of Halloween. You're settled on the sofa with Mews watching Rocky Horror Picture Show. The smell of your rocky road is wafting over from the oven. "Son of a bitch!" Dustin bursts in. "Dude, shut up," you gesture at the TV. He starts scrounging around for coins to take to the arcade. You roll your eyes but ignore him until he makes you move from your spot. "Seriously?" "Please?" "Fine," you grumble and let him dig around the cushions. "Jackpot!" "Thank you," you swipe some coins from his hand and smirk. "Hey!" "I give you enough lifts to the arcade, plus you made me move." He glares at you, but is clearly in too much of a hurry to argue. He yells goodbye before slamming the door behind him. The rest of your evening is chocolatey marshmallow goodness and Mews snuggled in your lap. When Dustin gets home, you're about to start going to bed. "Have fun?" you ask. Dustin was frowning, "someone beat my DigDug high score." "DigDug? Wow that must sting. Who was it?" "Someone called MadMax. None of us know a Max." "Me neither."

The next day at school you keep an ear out for a new person called Max. But you forget about that pretty quickly when Nancy doesn't show up for homeroom. You know it's not a lesson, but it is the most boring twenty minutes of your day which Nancy had begun skipping pretty often. Luckily for you, Robin still turned up. Unluckily for you she did enjoy pointing out how you had told her over the summer that Steve and Nancy wouldn't last. And now they were ditching class to spend time together. Steve skipping, sure whatever. But Nancy Wheeler skiving? - "she must really love him," Robin had said in a frustrating sing-song voice.

You don't meet anyone new called Max but there is a new guy. Billy. And it wouldn't surprise you if he wanted to be called MadMax based on his stupid driving and obvious anger management issues. On your way out of first period, someone does't hold the door open for him. He gives them a sickly-sweet smile which clashes with the burning in his eyes. He leans down and whispers something to the guy. Whatever it is, it can't be nice. His eyes eat into your skin as he walks past you. Your skin crawls.

On your way outside from getting lunch, you get the misfortune of seeing him again. You're alone. Nancy isn't here (journalism club) and you don't want to go deaf in the lunch hall. You hold the door open for him, and his eyes linger horribly on you. They drift from your face to your chest, to your legs and then back up again. You head defiantly to the benches you'd been planning on sitting at. He's still behind you, not too close. But definitely not far away enough. He had been going the other way through the door, but he'd obviously changed his mind to follow you. Your heart pounds. "What's your name, sweetheart?" You stop at the benches but don't choose one to sit at. "At least be a gentleman and tell me yours first." He looks surprised that you responded, but continues walking closer. Instantly, you regret saying anything. He smells like sweat, "The names Billy, but what do I call you." You hate that you take a step back. He closes the gap. He's bigger than you and you're only armed with lunch. "Hey, I was hoping to find you, what are you doing out here it's freezing?" a familiar hand rests on your shoulder. Steve. "Yeah actually, I changed my mind, let's go inside," you agree. You lead the way into one of the smaller classroom blocks, "pleasure to meet you, Billy," you say over your shoulder. "Thank God you turned up, I was getting ready to throw my water bottle at him."

Once you're out of Billy's earshot you ask, "so, were you really looking for me?" "Yeah, I need to ask you a favour." "Well, you just did me one. So I'm happy to return it. What's up?" "It's my college essay. Nancy took a look at it earlier, she told me what was wrong with it, but…" "But not how to fix it?" you ask, before mumbling, "Sounds like her at the moment." Steve frowns, "she's doing her best Y/N." "Whatever, just show me the essay." To be fair to Nancy, the whole thing needs a rewrite, but, "when do you need this done by?" "Early admission is tomorrow." And there's the catch. The ideas behind the essay were there, but the structure was terrible. It was like he'd done an excellent brainstorm, but then just let the storm do its own thing and tornado around the page. When you told Steve this he says, "and why do you think I've come to you? You just described my failed attempt with a metaphor." You think about it for a minute, then you flip the piece of paper over, "Okay, well the sports metaphor at the start is a good idea. So keep that as your opener, with the basketball. Then use that to spring off into other sports you've done; other responsibilities too like lifeguarding and swim coaching and so on." "So saving the world last year?" "If you're thinking about studying at the prestigious Mental College then yeah. Anyway, then you can round it off with your pride in your work which you've inherited from your grandad who fought in the war and your dad who is very successful. Don't go on about your grandad and dad do too much, okay? The point is that you want to be like them when you grow up. That you have matured into someone intelligent and hardworking during your school years and you want to bring that to whatever college you're going to." He scribbles down what you've said around the margins, "thank you. Now I just have to write this and make it perfect overnight." He ran a hand through his hair, then folded and pocketed the paper. "Steve, just get it written by tonight, then come round mine and I'll make it perfect." "You don't have to do that." "It was my stupid-self that talked you into this sports application so now I better see it through." "Thanks for helping me whilst Nance is too busy." You shrug. You almost pity him. His dad is pressuring him to go to college but either can't or won't help him with the application. Nancy needs him around for support at Barb's tonight but won't help him finish it either? "It's fine." "To be honest, we kind of fought about it," he's looking at you uncertainly. You realise he doesn't have anyone else to talk about this with, "I know she thinks I'm dumb. Sometimes I don't know what she sees in me. I offered to stay here next year so I could be around for her senior year. I'm not sure she even cared." You aren't sure what to say. Ever since she started dating Steve, Nancy was like a different person. It had been pretty clear from day one that her romantic relationship meant more to her than your friendship. Over the past year, you had mostly accepted that. But now, Steve, the one who was being prioritised admits that she might not even care about him. You were starting to run out of energy for second-guessing her, and Steve, and Jonathan's, and, well, anyone's true intentions. But Steve is standing right there with his imploring eyes, and you can't help but feel bad for him. "I'm sure she cared, it's just. It's your future, you know? She probably doesn't want to influence you too much one way or the other." "Thanks Y/N. Some days I don't know what I'm thinking," you both know he's not convinced. "Love historically has connections with madness," you say, trying to joke and failing miserably. "Gee, thanks," he says but he smiles at you as he walks away.

You finally see Nancy on your way out of your penultimate class. You and Jonathan are continuing the discussion of the English Literature class when she crashes into you both, "you two are coming to this." You'd not seen her this excited or authoritative in ages. She must be feeling better - I wonder if it's because of dear Jonathan here? "Get sheet faced," said Jonathan incredulously. "Who's Tina?" you whisper in case she's nearby. "Come on, it'll be fun." You thought of the last time she'd insisted on taking you to a party. Dammit. The thought of that failed party meant you couldn't abandon her to go alone. Not that you were much help for Barb said the annoying voice in the back of your head. "I missed you," Steve's voice cuts through your thoughts. You and Jonathan share a perturbed look, "it's been like an hour." "Tell me about it," he's grinning but his eyes are blocked out by sunglasses. You wonder vaguely what he's been doing for the last hour, if he's thought about what you said. Then the two of them start making out. This was a more recent development from the start of the school year. What had previously been incessant bickering, had developed into make-out sessions so they couldn't piss the other one off too much. You don't think Nancy really thought of it as odd, in fact, she seemed to see it as a viable solution. Especially with someone like Steve who goes with whatever she wanted. But, Steve, he's not as stupid as he looks. You can tell he knows that her heart isn't in it. Nancy still isn't acting herself, and, after your lunchtim conversation, you're wondering how long he's going to wait for her to start taking him seriously again. You rolled your eyes and walked off with Jonathan. "I'm not going to this," Jonathan waves the flyer. "So you're gonna ditch me with the two of them? Please do not do that to me, man." "Only if you don't get sheet-faced." "Deal."

"Dude! You were spying? On a girl? Who you don't know?" it's been a while since you have been this pissed off with your brother. It reminds you of Billy earlier that day. Dustin complains he didn't do anything wrong. All it does is make you wonder if Billy thought what he did earlier was okay. "Just don't be like that. I'm glad this Max had the courage to stand up for herself against you guys watching her." "I just want to be her friend." "Then talk to her like a normal person. Ask her about DigDug, she'd probably be happy to know who's high score she's beaten." Dustin groans, "okay, you're right, I'm sorry." There's a knock at the door, "That's Lucas we're going to the arcade." "Just be nice, I taught you better than that!" you call after him.

You spend the next few hours enjoying having the house to yourself. You play your music, make snacks, and play with Mews. A knock at the door interrupts you. "Were you singing?" it's Steve. You can't help but blush slightly and attempt to change the subject, "how was your date?" "I think you sounded nice." There's a slightly awkward pause. Okay, very awkward pause. You invite him in, and feel remarkably like an adult and over serious. What happened to having friends round who ran in, kicked their shoes off, and off you go to hang out? "So seriously, how did it go? I always feel awful skipping those dinners, but I just can't. I think Nancy thinks I was working tonight. Really, I should…" your rambling trails off at Steve's face. Something's wrong. "They're selling the house." "Well, I'm not surprised, there must be so many memories there," you wait for the bad part. "That's not why. They're, uh, hiring an investigator, to find Barb." You think you might throw up, "shit." "I know," Steve says, "and there's not really a way we can tell them, y'know." The tired way he says it gives you the feeling he has already had to convince Nancy of this. So, you nod, "it still sucks. We started the dinners so we could be there for the Hollands whilst they accept that Barb's dead. I guess we never thought they'd think she was alive for so long." Your voice cracks as you finish your sentence. Would you give up on your kid? You shake the thoughts from your head, "Okay Harrington, let's turn your essay into perfection." He joins you at the table. Its odd having him here. You can feel him sneaking glances at the house. The half eaten rocky road straight from the tray, the VHS you haven't put away yet. Mews eyes him uncertainly from the back of the sofa. A car pulls up at the end of your drive. "That'll be my mom," you say, "she won't bother us if we're working." True to your word, when your mom walks in and sees you're working on something school related she just tells you to keep it down and that she's going to bed. You wonder if she notices that the two of you are sitting awkwardly apart from one another, both having to lean in to reach the single page on the table. "Thanks Ms Henderson," you'd never heard Steve's voice so polite. It's not clear what he changes. His ability to switch between personas like that makes you nervous. You raise an eyebrow, more to yourself than him, and say, "okay let's get going, I want to sleep too." The essay actually reads pretty well now that Steve's been writing following your plan, or indeed any plan. You're about half way through the essay already with no major qualms besides some pedantic grammar stuff.

Despite being very proud of my grandfather's courage, and my father's intellect, it's not them I take my inspiration from. It's my friends. They've taught me the different values of hard work, forgiveness, and courage to do the right thing. The only reason I am writing this application is because my friend believed in me enough. From my family, I know how to be brave, but I want to choose to be kind, and to learn more skills from the relationships I will make at your school.

Your pen hovers over that paragraph. You change some sentences to help with the wordcount. Steve's eyes are burning into the side of your face. You remember your thought from earlier. Steve doesn't really have any other friends that aren't you or Nancy right now. The rest of the essay is finished in shock. When you look up at Steve, his eyes keep flickering between you and the page. "What the hell was that?" you didn't expect your voice to come out as a whisper. "You don't like it?" "I just. I guess I just didn't know … how much our friendship meant to you." "I mean it, Y/N, I've not even known you a year, and I you've made me so much stronger a person." I've known you for much longer than a year. I know how to listen out for you in hallways, the sound of your voice. How to hide quickly from you. I've had to learn your fake laughter from your real happiness and sometimes I still don't know where to draw the line. And you still haven't apologised. So how can I have taught you about forgiveness? It's not like he has many other friends to be learning it from. "Yeah, well, you're welcome," you're not sure of what else to say. He stares at you before clearing his throat and looking through your notes again. Mews senses your discomfort and has come to settle on your lap whilst you work. With your spare hand you stroke him whilst, making quick edits, mostly spelling and some grammar. You add some bullshit to his friendship paragraph about learning more soft skills at the school he ends up at. You aren't sure if it cheapens it or not. But eventually, you get to a point where you're both happy. "I owe you big time," Steve's saying as he gets up. "I'll let you know when I want to cash in a favour." He pauses, "you don't believe me do you?" "About what?" "Being real friends." You think about how you met. Why you agreed to be so-called friends in the first place. He still hasn't apologised insists the voice at the back of your head. "It's just," your voice falters, the fake friendship with Steve has been easy to maintain. Not to mention convienient at school. Are you really about to make your life potentially more awkward. He's still looking at you, with what seems like genuine concern. Your voice is quiet and uneven, "It's just you never -" "Steve?" It's Dustin. Crap. "Is just leaving, we just finished our project," you hear your voice switch to a harder, disconnected tone. Steve makes a flourish of the scribbled paper before sliding it into his pocket. "Riiight," Dustin eyes you both suspisciously. "How was the arcade?" "We weren't creepy," he says defensively. Steve shoots you a confused look but you shake your head slightly in response. You walk with him to the door. "Good luck with your application," you hope the message in your voice is clear. Please don't try and talk about it again now. "See you tomorrow, Y/N."

When you turn back to the kitchen, Dustin has a million questions. "Why is Steve here without Nancy?" "I thought you hated him." "What project are you working on?" "Are you friends with him now?" "Does Mom know he was here?" "Did he steal my brownies again?" "Dustin, for the last time, I baked those brownies and hadn't even given them to you yet, so they were mine to give away." "So you admit he had them!" "Good night Dustin."

a/n what is a homeroom no idea but I imagine it like in high school musical (that's how old I am) anyway in the UK we have form time which is the most pointless 20 minutes of school (my school actually doubled it to take up half your lunch too (I guess that tells you enough about my school haha). please let me know if you think the dynamic is working! i am so out of it at the moment with some personal shit and ive kindof forgotten how relationships are supposed to work.

[imjustanasshole]

I have a dumb and undeveloped theory, but a theory nonetheless:

what if Will's painting is a foreshadowing of season 5?

okay, hear me out: first of all, the three-headed dragon represents the 3 "villains" (basically the monsters of the Upsidedown) we got throughout the series (the Demogorgon, the Mind Flayer (twice) and Vecna/One/Henry) and how they're gonna have to completely defeat the 3 of them in season 5. Because, for now, the only thing they've been able to do is sent them back to where they belong, but alas, they keep coming back, so maybe it's time for a final battle. Another interpretation of this could also be about the types of villains in the series: the "bad men" (aka: the people from the lab, Dr. Brenner, etc.), the Upsidedown monsters (previously mentioned), and a third thing that we haven't seen before or something we've seen without realizing (like closed ones being used as villains, e.g.: the flyed, especially Billy, and Vecna's hallucinations, especially Max's mom).

the second thing I wanted to point out about the drawing is that it features only the og party. I think this means that season 5 is going to be centered around them the most, much like season 1; we've spoken a lot about "full circle moments" when theorizing, and it really doesn't get any more full circle than that. We've got an overhead framing with Lucas and Dustin standing behind, with Lucas more towards the back and Dustin kind of in the middle, and Will and Mike pretty much side by side (which might mean something about their dynamics this season, but that's another topic entirely), with Mike a little more forward, either leading them or facing the Evil™ first (could also be sacrificing himself, I'm not sure). It also may look like Will and Dustin are in the middle if you don't really get the angle, but I don't think that's it.

What that "different point of views are different character duos" thing could mean, imo, is that we're going to see multiple different pairings among the og party this season; it's already been confirmed that there will be scenes with Lucas and Mike, and Will and Mike, plus some bts pictures of Mike with Steve and Robin might lead us to believe that there will be scenes of him with Dustin as well, AND the, atp, infamous bts photo of Will, Mike, Joyce and Lucas could also mean we're getting Lucas and Will scenes (or at least Lucas-Mike-Will) (this last two could be a stretch). (Disclaimer(?): we can't trust the bts pictures that much, just because two actors/actresses are together on set doesn't necessarily mean they're filming together, for this the pap pictures are a way more reliable source of information).

Now, is undeniable that symbology is really important in Stranger Things, and I might be wrong and reaching way too much, but, I don't know... It just seemed really intentional that Will made a drawing for Mike specifically that features the four of them, and with such an specific situation too, I don't think we've ever talked about a three-headed dragon before, that hasn't been a recurring villain of their campaigns, as far as we know, so I really think it might truly mean something, if not specifically this.

If this is crazy and makes no sense, you guys can ignore it, I might just miss analyzing paintings in art history now that I've graduated high school and this might be my way of coping with it. On the other hand, if someone else has already talked about this theory or this is a well-known speculation in the fandom, I was not aware of it, I swear this popped up in my head when I was looking at the goofyass drawing that Mike's Funko pop is holding in number 1539.

Either way, if you're interested and want to talk about this with someone, please choose me, because I'm going crazy over here, grasping at straws. Thank you for the attention.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL OUT MY NAME ♛

(Book #2 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Series)

CEO!bachelor!steve × fem!college grad!reader

MODERN AU • 18+ | BOOK #1 (e.m.)

slight age gap (Steve is 31, reader is 23); reader goes by the nickname "Sweets"

CW: slight age gap relationship, drinking, smoking, gambling, physical altercations, manipulation, abuse (DV, emotional, financial, mental), profanities, eventual smut

*loosely inspired by sara cate’s salacious players club*

↳001 (PROLOGUE) // 002 // 003 // 004 // 005 // 006 // 007 EPILOGUE

Summary: 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄. Steve Harrington has the WORST luck with the ladies. His high school sweetheart left him for another dude, his former fuck buddy married his roommate, and his dream girl is a lesbian. ‘King Steve’ is losing hope. That is until he meets you — a newly graduated university student from Seattle — when your paths cross on a fateful night in Sin City. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas... that is until your risky business trickles over to Hawkins, Indiana, a town your best friend knows of a little too well.

theme song: call out my name by the weeknd

tag list is open 💌✨

Chapter 001: PROLOGUE

word count: 1.7k words

♛

Winter 2024

“WATCH OUT INDIANAPOLIS — you're about to get... absolutely SOAKED!”

The booming voice of a man in Steve’s bedroom stirs him awake.

Letting out a ferocious yawn, The King rubs his eyes free of the annoying crust in the corner of his sockets, flopping around one more time before doing his routine stretch.

“Google,” Steve commands. “Turn off the TV.”

The TV immediately switches off. It’s nothing personal to meteorologist Marcus Bailey, but if Steve ever needed an accurate forecast of Indianapolis, all he would have to do is look outside his penthouse window. And that, after brushing his teeth, is just what he does.

"G'morning Indy,” he sighs happily on his balcony before going back inside.

Steve then makes his way over to the kitchen to fix himself some breakfast.

“Google,” he calls out again. “Open the curtains, please.”

Google replies:

“Opening curtains. Good morning — Steve.”

"Google, what's my schedule looking like today?" "Google, text Dustin." “Google, what is the weather looking like in Nevada?” “Google, turn on my shower tunes.”

The best thing about not living with Eddie Munson anymore, is that Steve can shamelessly sing Amy Winehouse in the shower without being hounded about it.

“We only saaaid GOODBYE, with WORDS!” Steve sings, confidently off-key. “I died a hundred times! You go back to her, and I goooo baaack toooo…”

"Scanning fingerprint...”

an automated voice announces at the entrance of Steve's walk-in closet.

Swish...

The door slides open. Sauntering his way inside, Steve ventures for some slick black athleisure down to the shoes, his usual musky cologne, and some matching sunglasses (despite the gloomy forecast prediction).

Black. 🎶

Steve Harrington is ready for the day.

---

"Google, make reservations for 3 people at Tony's Steakhouse at 7pm please."

All Steve had left to do for the day now was grocery shop. Which was always a hassle. Because sometimes, the store doesn't have the specific brand he's looking for so the shopper has to opt for an alternate version. Or sometimes, the shopper assigned to him that day chooses produce that is nearing its expiration date making every fruit in his bag a mushy mess. It doesn't happen too often, but it sure feels inconvenient as hell when it does. There are worse problems in life though, so Steve really can't complain.

*Ring, ring. Ring, ring*

The very distinct and custom ringtone has Steve bolting across the room to answer the call. One of his best friends was on the other line.

"Yello?" he says into the phone.

"Hey, it's Shy Girl," comes a voice. "Eddie and I are pulling in."

"Pull off to the side. Valet's got it. I'll send you guys up."

A bottle of cabernet sauvignon a la Steve awaits the pair when they make their way over. Consider it a Tony's pre-game.

"GameWorld stock is up 4% today,” Steve's buddy, and owner of Hellfire Gentlemen's Club Eddie Munson announces as the two clink glasses. "I don’t have much faith in it though, figure I’ll get my pie slices from actual grocery stores. Like Meijer.”

“Everyone's always gonna need groceries,” Steve points out. "Definitely. Just don't day trade. Not now."

"Ooh, you hear that, Eds?" Shy Girl nudges him. "You gotta be careful where you put your money."

"I gotta be careful with my money, period," Eddie smirks. "You're a danger to my pockets, angel."

"Oh but you love me," she says.

"Yeah," Eddie gives in, grabbing his lover's dainty digits, trailing his fingers across hers, and rubbing the glistening rock that took up most of her left hand on the distal side. "I sure do."

"I'm just... so proud of us," Steve sappily reflects. "So much has happened over the past two years and we've all come so far."

"Yeah," Shy Girl agrees. "And it's about fucking time we celebrate."

"I agree," Eddie chimes in, raising his glass once again. "This weekend trip is going to be... one for the books."

"Viva Las Vegas," Steve toasts. "Cheers."

"Viva Las Vegas!"

SEATTLE, WASHINGTON

Black and red.

They're the two colors that occupy your closet the most. But of course, after graduating from Washington State University (or Wazzu, for short), you expected nothing less.

You could do with some more sequins though, you think to yourself as you pack your bags.

"What do you think of this, Sweets?"

Peering over your shoulder, you see that your best friend, Elle has started festivities early, managing to hold two glasses of champagne in one hand, and six-inch stilletoes in the other.

"Can't take the party out of the girl, that's for damn sure," you respond.

When you left Seattle to attend WSU Pullman, Elle was your only friend in business class. Mainly because the class was predominantly for dudes, but eventually you found out that you two have a lot in common.

Elle is everything you would want in an older sister figure: she is both book smart and wise, she is sexy, and she eats men for breakfast. And, now that she's about to celebrate the launching of her lingerie business (along with her Dirty 30s Era), and you're about to enter your new-grad era, you two are hitting up Las Vegas to go ham together one last time.

It's all so bittersweet. You owe everything to the Warrens, having taken you in when you were a lost undergrad. It also sucked quite a bit not having a support system after graduating high school. You and Elle were all each other has. Which makes this inevitable separation so much more painful.

"Are you sure you're okay with Vegas by the way?" you question. "I know since the split, being surrounded by gorgeous girls 24/7 can kinda be triggering.”

"Don't worry about it, love," she shakes it off. "The past is in the past. This is a new era of me."

Cheers to that. Clinking your airport-pregame champagne glasses with one another, you raise a toast to yourselves, celebrating how far the two of you have come over the past four years.

"To friendship."

"To friendship."

"To being elegant and educated."

"To elegance and education."

"And to being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives."

You giggle as you raise your glass of champagne even higher.

"To being girl-bosses for the rest of our lives," you two take a sip at the same time. "And no matter how near and no matter how far, we're always gonna be besties."

"I love you, Sweets."

"I love you too, Isabelle."

divider from @plum98

🏷️ taglist: @potatobeanpie @xblueriddlex @angietherose @winchester-angel @aactuaaltraash @hugdealer @hazydespair @frostandflamesfanfic @mediocredreams @bl0ssomanddie @corkadymu @eddiesguitarskills @mrsjellymunson @cadence73 @m-chmcl-rmnc @n-slayaaaaa @corrodedcoffincumslut @kennedy-brooke okay i think i tagged everybody

10/23/2024 -- @micheledawn1975 @maisiepotatobeans @1deverland just updating the tag list :))

[wizardelio]

Whatttt Is your Favoriteeee...

• Byler Gate/theory?

• Byler Proof?

• Byler moment?

• ST character? (Mby Ur top 5?)

• byler/miwi headcanon?

• Duo in the Show? (Exept byler)

• Line in Stranger Things?

• ST season?

• byler related Song?

OK SOOOO.

my favourite byler gate is probably flickergate. it was the first one i heard about and i just think it's a great idea! my favourite byler theory is that mike is going to confess his love for will in ep6, because of the theory that camazotz is a reference to a novel called "a wrinkle in time", where the main characters basically defeat evil with the power of love.

for byler proof... we have so much to choose from, but in my opinion, the most obvious one is the california plot in season 5. because if you think about it, what was the point of it? exploring will's feelings for mike? that would make no sense if they were just going to make mike reject him in the end! (also the van scene taking a whole day to shoot is pretty big evidence...).

my favourite byler moment is when mike tells will about the day that they met, when will was possessed in season 2. it makes me emotional everytime i watch it! i also love their fight at the rink-o-mania in season 4!

my favourite stranger things character is mike. i think he's such a well written character and i also relate to him in a lot of ways. my second favourite is will, for the same reasons. i think my third favourite is el. i love her, she's just been through so much and all i want is for her to be happy! i also love dustin!! he's so kind to everyone but he's also just a very fun character!

i don't know if i have any headcanons... when i read fanfiction, i love jealous mike. but this isn't really a headcanon. for example in season 2, when max wanted to join the party, if you look into why he didn't want her to, you can see that it's probably because he was jealous about the fact that will seemed so interested in her. also when mike asks will about his painting in the airport scene in season 4... that boy was jealous!!!

this may be an unpopular opinion, but i love the el/mike duo! i don't ship mileven, but i do think that they have very cute scenes together, especially in the first 2 seasons. of course, i love the more popular duos like steve and dustin and robin and steve, but i'd really love to see robin and will together in season 5. from what we've seen in the date announcement teaser, they're going to have some scenes together, so i'm really excited to see them interact!!

i can't pick only one line from the whole show, but i loved when hopper said "make mistakes, learn from 'em. and when life hurts you, because it will, remember the hurt. the hurt is good. it means you're out of that cave." in his letter at the end of season 3. really made me emotional!

for my favourite season... once again, it's hard to only pick one. i love season 2, so i think it's my favourite! i love the lumax plot, discovering steve and dustin's friendship, the possession of will, etc. season 4 is a close second though!

i have made multiple byler playlists over the years, and i've been listening to my s5 byler one a lot recently. i love "some protector" by role model, i think it really fits them! "i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)" by whitney houston is also perfect for them!

thanks for asking me all those amazing questions!!!

[saturnyo]

Before You Go

Chapter 5- Static Between the Lines

Masterlist

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

AO3

A/n: The next chapter will be the next to last one where Joel and Delilah's story is coming to an end in the next chapter. For some context, I had to give Delllah and Dustin a full name for the wedding vows, so keep that in mind when you read.

Pairing: dbfJoel x OC(Delilah)

Warnings: Emotional Cheating, Angst, Age Gap, foul language, Suppressed Emotions, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics, Minor injury, so much tension like an unhealthy amount

Summary: The smell of cinnamon rolls in the kitchen can't mask the rot beneath the surface. As Delilah navigates wedding rehearsals, doting family, and Dustin's perfect faith in her, she's drowning in a secret she can’t bury. One glance from Joel ignites everything she's tried to silence. Words are exchanged. So are bodies. Outside the church, she chooses him again—with her hands, her mouth, her hips. Inside, she still chooses Dustin with her silence. But even practice vows carry weight. And Delilah's already cracked open.

Word Count: 2.6k

Song Choice: Cherry by Lana Del Rey

Cinnamon Rolls

That’s what the house smells like when I wake up—cinnamon rolls. Sweet, suffocating, like nostalgia pressed too close to the skin. It sticks to me, thick as memory, like a warm Sunday morning at the counter with my dad, both of us elbow-deep in flour and laughter. But now it chokes instead of comforts. A ghost scent curling its claws into my throat, dragging me back into something I thought I’d buried.

Cinnamon, vanilla, sugar—warmth that should soothe but only sours in my lungs. It’s everywhere, seeping into the wallpaper, whispering through the panes of old windows. Childhood, stained onto this house like grease on a stovetop. Familiar, cloying, toxic.

What happened last night…

Joel and I, sitting on the porch, not speaking. The air hummed with cicadas and something heavier. All that hurt—between him, me, and most of all, my fiancé—held us there in a quiet standoff. The swing creaked beneath us. Unspoken words crackled in the porch light's electric buzz: What we are can’t go on.

We’ve been dodging each other for weeks. Like a cruel little dance. I’d leave when he came over. He’d stay inside when I stepped out. And Dustin—God, Dustin—started to notice. The night before my so-called girls’ night, he finally cornered me. His voice low and calm, the kind of calm that only comes from barely-restrained suspicion.

“What’s going on with you and Joel? You two are avoiding each other like the damn plague.”

The words turned my blood to ice. I felt them settle in my gut like lead. Lie lie lie, my heart hissed. Anything to cover the tracks.

“You’ve been stressed about the wedding, and I get it, but seriously—you’re making drama where there isn’t any,” I said too fast, too loud. “Joel and I are awkward, not plotting.”

He nodded slowly. Didn’t say a word. Hurt hung on him like fog, and I hated myself for it. But fear drowned empathy. Fear makes liars of all of us.

That night, I drowned it out in music—EDM so loud it rattled my bones, bodies packed tight, sticky with sweat and perfume and vodka. Sarah dancing beside me, careless and alive. For a while, I let it all go. No Dustin. No Joel. No wedding. No Janice.

Liberation, sharp and fleeting.

But morning came, as it always does, and with it—cinnamon and coffee, and the memory of Joel on the porch beside me. The kitchen door creaked open like a wound, and there she was: Aunt Janice. Burgundy dress, waist pinched by a frilled apron boasting “Best Cook in Texas.” She moved like a woman who never lets anything show—controlled, poised, terrifying.

She turned when she heard me. That smile—sweet, shining, and full of something else.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re finally up!” Her voice was shrill with delight, but something beneath it vibrated wrong. “Rough night?”

I nodded, lips pressed into a line. “Yeah… long couple days. Wedding stress.”

She handed me a plate—eggs, bacon, cinnamon rolls so perfectly golden it made me want to scream. I sat. Coffee. The ritual of normalcy. Then Dustin walked in, humming, eyes on his phone. Talking about guest lists and seating charts like nothing was wrong, like his world wasn’t teetering on the edge of shattering glass.

I smiled. I nodded. I listened. But Janice’s footsteps faded into a dull buzz behind his words. Planning was my shield. Floral arrangements and caterer quotes. I buried myself in detail—folded my guilt into linen swatches and RSVP tallies. But I could feel it coming. Not death. Not tragedy. Something quieter, crueler.

Something that changes you.

Like a glass on the table’s edge, wobbling. Everyone watches. No one moves. Then one breath—too sharp, too loud—and it falls. Cracks open. And everything you’ve been hiding spills out.

The days blurred. Janice, Dustin, Sarah—they all fluttered around me, dissecting every detail with surgical precision. Phone calls, paper charts, dozens of decisions colonizing every room. Like squatters. Like ghosts.

And me? I just watched the glass sway.

Closer.

Closer.

To the fall.

The church felt like a solemn tomb as everyone sat in their respective seats, waiting for the rehearsals to begin. My heartbeat became impossible slow, as a painting of the last supper became my focus point. Jesus is sitting there between all of his disciples but there is one betrayer in his midst. Judas. In this moment I felt like Judas, lying to those who are close to me and keeping something heinous I've done a secret. Condemning Dustin to a lifetime, a simulation essentially of what our marriage should be like instead of what it actually is—full of deceit.

My aunts voice booms behind the mahogany doors shushing everyone before the familiar tune of here comes the bride starts to play, signaling for the doors to open and me to begin walking down the aisle. The song wasn't nothing signaling the meaning of the future occasion, it felt like my death march. I see my family on the right and Dustin’s on the left and my dad walking side by side to me holding my arm—teary eyes as well like the wedding will be the last time I ever see him, like he's giving me away for good. They all watch me with teary eyes as I step towards the future.

If only they knew.

I see Sarah and the rest of my bridesmaids standing at the front but I didn't prepare to see the look in Joel’s eyes as he sat on the brides side. The look of pain, regret and acceptance. No one had the power to reverse time but I still foolishly prayed that this was some fucked up dream where I was marrying a man for security rather than love.

Dustin is standing straight spined, smiling such a wide grin I thought his face would explode. Sweet, sweet, innocent Dustin… it would implode his perfect little bubble if he knew the person I truly was. The steps towards him was an eternity of slight panicking and major guilt. Finally getting to the front of the church, my dad puts my hands in Dustin's carefully practicing for the big day tomorrow.

My fiance being the ever sweet and in tune to the slightest forehead wrinkling, he looks at me with concern.

“Baby, are you ok?” he whispers. I quickly take a glance behind him towards Joel, the look on his face now even more heart breaking than before. He’s torturing himself by being here but unfortunately it seems like he can't look away from me, no matter how much it hurts him to see me standing here with Dustin.

“yeah I'm ok… just wedding jitters,” I answered.

The preacher who was residing over our wedding cleared his throat hushing us and the rest of everyone around us. He opened the Bible, so pristine and not torn unlike me, as he flipped through pages finding the specific passage he needed to begin.

“As we gather here today,” he began, “we prepare to unite two souls in sacred matrimony…”

His voice droned on about the sanctity of marriage and how our souls were gonna be no longer two but now will be intertwined into one. How god is blessing our marriage to be filled with many years of happiness and children if we choose to have any.

“Marriage,” the preacher continued, “is a covenant. Not just a legal bond, but a spiritual one. Two becoming one. Joined before God, family, and community. Blessed with love, commitment, and—should they choose—children.”

Finally he gets to the vows, looking to Dustin first to practice reciting.

“And now,” the preacher said, smiling, turning to Dustin, “let’s practice the vows. Repeat after me.”

Dustin squared his shoulders, beaming like this was the moment he’d been waiting for.

“I, Dustin Alexander Morrow,” he said, voice steady, “take thee, Delilah Savannah Morrison, to be my lawfully wedded wife…”

I stared at him.

“to have and to hold, through sickness and in health…”

Joel closed his eyes.

“for as long as we both shall live and till death do us part.”

The preacher nodded, pleased. “Perfect.” He turned to me. “Your turn next, Delilah.”

I look to see my dad beaming with pride, Sarah smiles wide with tears in her eyes while giving me a thumbs up. I look back to Dustin, glancing quickly to Joel as he watches me practice signing my life away to the wrong man.

I open my mouth but no words came out. What did wasn't a promise or a sacred vow, it was a heartbreaking and soul crushing revelation.

What the hell am I doing?

Still I smiled, looked my fiance in the eye while I recited the same words back.

It'll all be fine. This is just practice.

Right?

Laughter rolls through the open windows behind me—soft, cheerful, naïve. Inside, they’re toasting to love like it’s eternal. Dancing to curated playlists and choking down catered joy like this isn’t all a lie.

I step outside barefoot, letting the cool air lick the sweat from my neck. The cigarette between my fingers trembles a little, but I take a long drag anyway. The taste is bitter, chemical—better than the taste of Joel, which still haunts the back of my throat.

“Ha. Upcoming nuptials.” The words fall from my lips with a cracked laugh. My voice sounds strange. Worn. No one hears it but the universe. And it doesn’t give a shit.

The sky is painted in fire and bruises. Orange fading to blue. Red smudged like lipstick across a tired face. It looks too perfect. Too timed. Like the world’s staging my sin in golden light. Like it’s tracing a scarlet A across my chest.

Adulterer.

I feel him before I see him. That pull. That fucking gravitational ache.

Joel.

He’s standing in the shadows near the corner of the hall. Sleeves rolled up. Arms crossed like he’s trying to hold himself together. Or maybe just holding himself back—from touching me. From saying it.

His eyes find mine. No smirk. No judgment. Just heat. And something else. Sadness, maybe. Or worse… certainty.

“You’re getting married tomorrow,” he says.

His voice is low. Steady. But underneath it, I hear the begging: Tell me this isn’t real. Tell me you’ll stop pretending.

I swallow the stone rising in my throat. “Yeah. Tomorrow I’ll be a wife.”

The words land like bullets. His jaw clenches. Mine aches from biting down the truth.

The silence that follows isn’t empty—it’s a vacuum. His eyes drop just briefly to my bare shoulder, where the strap of my dress has slipped down.

I don’t fix it. I can’t.

Because part of me wants him to come closer. Wants him to wreck me again—right here, right now.

“I can’t stop thinking about it,” I whisper.

He looks up. Sharp. Dangerous. Alive.

“About what we did?”

I nod. “About what I let you do to me. What I begged for.”

Joel steps forward. Just a foot. Just enough. The heat between us ignites instantly.

“I told myself it was a mistake,” he says. “But it didn’t feel like one.”

“It felt like drowning,” I breathe. “And I didn’t even try to swim.”

His hand twitches. Like he wants to reach out. Grab me. Kiss me so hard it undoes the zipper of this whole fake life.

“Say it,” he growls.

“Say what?”

“That you want me.”

He’s close now. Too close. I can feel the heat rolling off his body. The tension vibrating between us is like a live wire.

“I want you,” I whisper, voice shaking. “I want you more than I want to be forgiven.”

Joel doesn’t wait.

He grabs my face. Uncaring. Not gentle. And I need it.

I crave it.

No matter how desperate, how bruising—I want his hands all over me. Mapping me like a cartographer tracing every forbidden curve he should’ve never touched. He kisses me like punishment. Like an apology twisted in fire. Our mouths crash. Teeth clash. Years of restraint collapsing in heat.

My back hits the wall, the impact jolting through me like a shudder. His hands clamp down on my hips—possessive, anchoring me like he’s afraid I’ll vanish before he can finish claiming me. He grinds against me through our clothes, hard and insistent, and I can feel how badly he wants it—how long he’s wanted it.

My dress bunches at my thighs as he grabs the hem, yanking it up in one angry motion. I push his pants down with shaking hands, fingers frantic. Greedy. Unforgiving.

“Tell me this isn’t just guilt,” he growls against my ear, voice rough, breaking.

“It’s everything,” I breathe. “It’s guilt. It’s lust. It’s you.”

That’s all it takes.

He slides into me in one deep, brutal thrust. I gasp—high, sharp—head slamming back into the wood. He fills me completely. Perfectly. Like he was made for this space inside me. He fucks me hard. Fast. No buildup. Like he’s trying to destroy the evidence of everything else.

His hands pin my wrists above my head. Holding me there while his hips slam into mine, over and over, our bodies echoing into the dark. But it hits me. Mid-thrust. Mid-breath. Mid-gasp. His breath on my skin. The way he whispers my name like it hurts. The way he looks at me between each stroke.

He still loves me.

And for a second—just one second— I want to scream. Not from pleasure. From the pain of knowing I don’t deserve it.

“I never stopped,” he groans, forehead against mine, hips still punishing. “Not for one fucking day.”

I break.

My legs wrap around him, dragging him deeper, chasing the high and the hurt in the same breath.

“Don’t stop,” I whisper. “I can’t think—I don’t want to.”

“I won’t,” he says, voice shaking. “Even if it ruins us both.”

And it will. But we’re past the point of salvation now.

We just keep moving.

Gasping.

Clinging.

Fucking like it’s the only language we still speak.

We stay frozen in the aftermath. Foreheads pressed together. Our breaths tangling in the hush between us— An unspoken symphony of guilt and want. Rising and falling in time like a prayer we’re too ashamed to speak.

Shame.

Pure, adulterated shame.

My wrinkled dress. My messed-up hair. His bunched-up collar. His dilated pupils. Products of lust. Of need. Of the undeniable hunger to be together. Like a routine, he helps me fix myself. I help him fix his collar. Erasing the signs of what just happened. While my fiancé and both our families are just a few steps away.

“So you still doing it?”

Joel’s voice cracks—high, uneven. Like a violin string pulled just past breaking.

“Yeah, I am.”

What’s worse is that I didn’t even hesitate. I didn’t even wait a breath.

Just a yeah.

Like I’m confirming a Starbucks order. Or doing laundry.

Joel nods. Slowly. Sadly. He doesn’t argue. Doesn’t beg. It’s like he’s heard this all before. Like a nightmare that never ends. On repeat. His hands hover at his sides as I smooth my skirt again. It doesn’t help. It still looks like I’ve been fucked against a wall.

Which I have.

Joel laughs bitterly. Low. Cracked open.

I should’ve said something. Anything.

But I didn’t.

The truth was louder than both of us.

I already made my choice.

@glitterspark