#I hope Will Byers really does bring out the best in you

[facilitatingmyaddiction]

I need to be honest: I really hope Byler is endgame because Byler makes me hate Mike less.

This is a long rant, and this whole post is gonna sound full of vitriol, but BEAR WITH ME, I HAVE A POINT.

I hate Mike's character so much, the show does him so dirty, S3 was THE WORST and S4 was only better because of the Byler implications, because otherwise he still sucks

Allow me to rant after the cut before you guys jump onto me, ok?

He used to be the leader of the party, and in S3 he does NOTHING, and seasons 3 and 4 seem to go out of their way to show DUSTIN (my pookie, this kid is the GOAT, no one say NUTHIN' bout him) as the leader instead of Mike, which like, makes Mike kinda disappear into Mileven? He goes from leader of the party to El's only safe haven, and that bothers me so freaking much. It's a disservice to both their characters IMO. El gets stuck being the only one who can do anything to save the day, and Mike gets stuck being the only one who can be there for her. I don't think it is a coincidence that they get separated for most of S4, because I think if they were together the whole time, the plot would stop moving. Mileven in canon feels like being in a relationship just because you don't know what you would do if both of you weren't together, not because you actually like each other.

Now if Byler IS endgame, everything feels more cohesive. Mike is an asshole, yes, but not because that's who he is - he is an asshole because things are changing and he is hurting his best friend and he is really bothered by that but he doesn't know how to fix it. He avoids saying stuff not because he doesn't want to, but because it feels wrong and he doesn't understand how. He didn't want to play D&D with Will in S3, and he said it was because he was maturing, but as soon as he enters high school, he finds a D&D club and is super dedicated towards it. Lucas has his big game and Mike doesn't even think to negotiate with Eddie to move the last session around so they could all watch the game AND have the finale of the campaign - clearly D&D is, still, a huge priority for him, despite him being technically older and more mature now. Yes, he is still a dick for replacing Lucas at the last session, but this assholery puts his previous assholery ("Did you think we would be in my basement playing games the rest of our lives?") into a new perspective. He STILL cares about D&D, it is STILL super important for him. So why was he doing all that in S3? Makes you question, and that's good! Also very interesting how this priority only comes back once El is not around anymore. It's like he is back to his little bitchy S2 self, maybe trying to get back to the way he was back then.

S3 Mike is overprotective of El because, according to him, he "loves her and doesn't want to lose her". But, if my interpretation of Canon!Mileven is correct, he might be actually scared of what not being with her means for him. If Dustin is more of a party leader than he is, if he and Will are not on good terms, and he doesn't play D&D anymore, that means he's not Leader Of The Party Mike, nor Mike The DM, nor Will's Best Friend Mike. That leaves him as Protector of El Mike. So, he's overprotective, because that's who he's supposed to be, now, right? That's what having a girlfriend means, right? Lucas and Max are always together, and they are dating. So Mike should be there with her and for her, always. If El breaks up with him, who is he then?

So he fights to get her back. And since he's fighting to get her back, that probably means he loves her, right? When someone breaks up with you, and you still want them, no, NEED them back, that means you love them, right?

But then she leaves, and he can'tdo anything about it. And Will leaves, too. And suddenly, he's not missing the time he spent with El. Something feels wrong, and he's still a little bitch to everyone around him, but it's not because of EL. He talks to El, he writes her letters, they keep in touch. And he doesn't miss her. He should, because she's his girlfriend, and he's supposed to be missing her, so he complains about not being able to call her on the phone, but he doesn't try to solve that problem like he did in S2 when he didn't even know for sure if El was alive. S2 Mike would move the Earth to be able to talk to El. S4 Mike thinks just getting on a plane to see her in the summer is enough. A letter every once in a while instead of a phone call is enough. "From Mike." is enough. S4 Mike didn't implode while not having El, like he thought he would, so things change. He's not as protective anymore because he doesn't need to be. The last year was enough proof that he could still be who he is without El, so he has another angle to self-reflect.

If Byler is endgame, then S4 Mike being an asshole to El after she defended herself in the rink is less of him just being a shitty boyfriend and is instead him being mad at himself for neglecting his friends and his own self to take care of her when she truly doesn't need him, even without her powers - and then taking it out on El. He understands that he is pissed, he is prompted to make amends (iirc he didn't go talk to El out of his own volition, he just did it after he saw how Will was reacting to how bad he was treating El) and he can't. But he CAN make amends to the one he thinks he actually wronged: Will.

I hope we get to see a healthier (platonic) relationship between Mike and El in S5. I'd love to see Mike stop being the little asshole that he is after understanding himself a little better. It would put a nice bow in things because GOD MIKE YOU ARE SO ANNOYING AND SUCH A JERK RIGHT NOW.

[infinite-orangepeel]

Steddie accidental voyeurism and ‘Steve owes Jonathan Byers an apology because if he had a camera he’d also be tempted to immortalize Eddie in this moment for future reference’

hi anon !! omg i’m in love with this prompt 💛 thank you so much for the submission, hope you enjoy :)

warnings: this one is heavy on the perv!eddie in the beginning so if that’s not your thing, feel free to skip, accidental voyeurism, frotting

eddie knows he’s all types of fucked up for this. he knows there’s a sick place in hell for guys like him.

steve’s his roommate, his supposed ‘best friend,’ the guy who saved him from imminent death in an alternate dimension.

yet here he is—jerking himself off with steve’s favorite pair of gym shorts clutched between his dick and his fist. thrusting and dirty talking his way to the finish line as if his best friend can actually hear him:

“you’re such a cocktease, stevie. always bending over right in front of me in those tight little outfits. just love to whore yourself out for my attention, don’t you?”

“does your girlfriend know how desperate you are for my cock? does she know how dumb you get when i choke you on it?”

“so beautiful, baby. so goddamn beautiful. gonna paint your pretty face with my cum. stay still. be good and take it, baby. let me fuck you right.”

he’s wearing Steve’s cologne—doused himself in the piney scent to enhance the sensory experience. he’s got a spread of stolen polaroids laid out in front of him.

a glorious mixture of cutesy and depraved pictures that steve’s ‘girlfriend’ of the month has taken of him (pictures that she finds mysteriously missing from her wallet whenever she comes over and eddie’s home).

eddie’s gazing at his three favorites as he works himself over—a close-up of steve’s blurry tits, steve smiling with his tongue poking out between his teeth, and steve eating pussy like it’s his last fucking meal on death row.

everything about that boy—correction: his boy—is perfect.

none of the girls he brings home deserve him. he’s pure gold, the sun personified, rare.

eddie watches them. observes the ways they take advantage of his kindness. the little jabs they make at his intelligence. the quipped commentary surrounding their exits. it boils his blood, makes his skin burn, and if steve was his? he’d never let him forget how loved he is. he’d treasure him, keep him safe, worship him up and down.

it doesn’t matter. it can’t matter, because there’s nothing eddie can do to force steve to feel the same way.

he understands that. he’s not delusional. but, he has to do something about it. he has to cope with this insatiable itch somehow.

so, while steve’s at work, eddie sneaks into his best friend’s bedroom and rolls around in his sheets.

he gets stupidly high off of it, doesn’t need a joint to do the trick.

he rubs his cock over his pillow and smiles with pure love while he does it. 

he digs through steve’s hamper and finds his gym clothes from that morning—still ripe with natural musk, sweat, and salt. eddie buries his face in them. licks over the crotch. fingers himself with his ass pointed skyward, head in the sand—drowning in steve’s pretty filth. crying out and letting his unfiltered desire flood the room.

and if he’s really lucky, like today, he’ll find an old sock that steve’s used to wipe himself clean after fucking one of those careless girls. dried with wasted cum because steve’s a good boy who pulls out and never cums inside one of his hook-ups.

meanwhile, eddie dreams of cumming inside him with the gross, used cotton pressed to his lips. he loves to suckle on the fabric. pretends he’s eating steve out after pumping him full. it’s nasty and bitter and all he thinks about. can’t get enough of steve on his tongue.

“want you to sit on my face, stevie. don’t be afraid, love. you won’t hurt me. i’ll take such good care of you. don’t even need to breathe. just need to taste you,” he babbles to himself and tightens his grip, “that’s it. want you to squeeze me between your pretty thighs. so fucking perfect. jesus.”

eddie’s moments away from blowing his load when steve rounds the corner and saunters on into his bedroom. home hours early from work without any warning.

“hey man! thought i heard you in here. powers out at family video and—”

he stops in his tracks. mouth gaping wide open.

“fuck. fuck. steve,” eddie’s stuck in place like a deer in headlights. dick fully erect and leaking onto his best friend’s shorts which are still in his hand, “im so sorry. i—let me get dressed and i’ll—um—i’ll leave—”

steve approaches eddie with a curious look on his face and pink coloring his cheeks. his chest rises and falls slowly and there’s a dazed look behind his eyes. he licks over his lips once and reaches a hand out. so close, he’s almost touching eddie’s cock which doesn’t make any sense because—

“let me,” he nods emphatically and eddie realizes they’re both shaking from something other than fear, “please.”

“steve. you don’t have to. you shouldn’t. i’m—i’m the one who fucked up,” eddie says unconvincingly, because all he wants is to continue basking in the wonder of this absurd fever dream.

“eds,” steve shivers visibly and shoves down the waistband of his sweatpants to reveal his dick. “i’m so fucking hard. can i—i wanna make you feel good—make us feel good.”

eddie pinches his own arm.

he’s waiting for steve to snap out of it. he’s convinced the guy is drugged or hallucinating or both. but, then, he leans closer and ghosts his lips over the corner of eddie’s open mouth. flicks his tongue and runs it over his bottom lip.

“please. let me give you the real thing.”

“okay,” eddie agrees, as steve takes them both into one hand with obvious urgency, “anything—you can have anything you want.”

steve winks at him, ducks down to kiss his throat, and releases a weak sigh into eddie’s neck as he watches his huge hand encompass both of their dicks.

the spread of shared precum eases the sticky drag of skin on skin and creates the perfect balance of friction. steve’s cock is wider than eddie’s. it’s pinker, too. but eddie grins happily at the few inches of length he has on his friend.

“y—you don’t care that i was being a creep?” eddie moans, knowing he won’t last long. fuck steve’s even prettier this close up, “why don’t you care?”

steve pumps them faster. his hips are bumping into eddie’s as he thrusts harder. moans dripping from his throat like honey.

“because i’ve been trying to get you to fuck me for the past year and a half,” steve uses his other hand to push eddie’s head forward and kisses him fully which sends him to the goddamn moon and back.

they lick behind teeth, tangle tongues, swallow groans and filthy words.

steve bites eddie’s lip and eddie does it right back.

they mirror each other in the strangest and most stunning way—nothing and everything alike.

eddie’s hands are kneading the meat of steve’s ass. he grazes a finger over his boy’s hole and revels in the sharp gasp it coaxes out of him.

“do that again,” steve groans and eddie obliges, “no one’s ever touched me there. feels so good.”

steve is going to be the death of him. steve’s going to kill him and eddie’s going to smile the whole way through.

“steve—i’m a fucking freak,” eddie pulls away to admit as he nibbles on steve’s ears and pumps the tip of his pointer finger into his ass, “i’ve been sneaking into your room and stealing polaroids from—”

steve bites him on the shoulder to demand silence and leaves the gorgeous imprint of his teeth. eddie whines and folds instantly, breathing heavily.

“and i jerk off with your rings on whenever you go to band practice so shut the fuck up and cum for me,” steve slams their lips back together and at the sound of his words and ridiculous confession, eddie cums harder than he ever has in his entire fucking life. a minute later, steve follows suit.

later, after a quick nap in the mess they’ve made, steve wakes eddie up with his mouth stretched around his cock and whispers, “it’s time for round two, baby. go get your rings. we’re trying something.”

taglist (message me to be added or removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1, @disastardly, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @the-redthread, @asbealthgn, @bestofbucky, @vampireinthesun, @carlyv, @shrimply-a-menace, @lordrrascal, @jjoesjonas, @malachitedevil, @anxiouseds, @feraleddiekinninghours, @gay-little-bitch, @jhrc666, @pinkdaisies1998, @mcneen, @perseus-notjackson, @eiddets, @corroded-coffin-groupie, @three-possums-playing-human, @stevesbipanic, @plutoshelm, @arkenstoned, @indiearr

[steveshairychest]

Happy birthday, Liam @withacapitalp !! We've only been friends for a short while, but you're so fun to talk to and I hope you had the best birthday ever! Mwah! I hope you like your gift <3

---

Jonathan loves the spring.

The new signs of life blossoming all around him always brings a smile to his face. He has a photo album filled with photos of every spring since he got his camera. There's pictures of the tree in their backyard finally growing new leaves, a doe with a fawn trotting awkwardly behind her near castle Byers, green grass peaking out through the melting snow.

And Will, so many photos of Will. His birthday is in spring.

Every year, Jonathan takes a picture of Will sitting in the same spot on the couch with his birthday present in hand. He tells Will it's for the memories; so when he flicks through the photo album, he can see his little brother slowly growing up. Will's smiling in some, laughing in others. In one picture, he's just sitting there trying to smile, but he looks like he's in pain, like he's going to cry; that was his first birthday since he came home from the upside down. Jonathan always skips past that one when he's flicking through the album.

This year is different, though. They'd missed Will's birthday due to everything with Vecna, Jonathan's camera is packed away in moving boxes that are on a truck going from California to Hawkins, he broke up with Nancy, and now he's stuck sleeping on the couch in Hopper's dusty cabin.

He's having the worst spring ever.

There's a quiet psst from the mattress on the floor and a hand poking his side. Jonathan pretends to still be asleep.

"I know you're awake, man." Argyle whispers and jabs him again.

Jonathan rolls over and stares down at his friend, who is lying on his side with his head propped up on his hand. Jonathan honestly expected Argyle to leave the minute he dropped Jonathan and the boys off in Hawkins. He'd expected to see the pizza van driving off as fast as it could go but instead, the van is parked outside and Argyle is lying on the floor beside him, wearing mismatched pyjamas they'd found at a charity shop that wasn't wrecked in the 'earthquake'.

He's kind of relieved Argyle is here with him. He's never felt so... relaxed, so happy, in someone's presence before.

"What do you want? I'm sleeping."

Argyle snorts. "No, you're not. You're thinking so loud it's keeping me awake as well." Argyle scoots over to the edge of his mattress and pats the new space next to him. "Come down here. Let's have a sleepover."

"I don't – "

"Just get down here. I won't bite." Argyle lifts the blanket up and holds it open until Jonathan begrudgingly rolls from the couch to the mattress. "See? Wasn't that hard, was it." Argyle drops the blanket on top of Jonathan and makes a show of tucking him in. "Now, tell me what's on your mind."

He hasn't shared a bed with anyone for a long time. He feels stiff, awkward, a little flustered as well because Argyle is lying on his side facing Jonathan, his intense gaze makes him feel like he's overheating.

"I don't know. It’s nothing, really." He turns his head and looks at Argyle; the look on his face tells Jonathan that his friend isn't buying it. He sighs and stares up at the ceiling before whispering, "We missed Will's birthday."

"Shit, really? When was it?" Argyle sounds genuinely upset by the news.

"March 22nd. Normally, we'd wake him up with pancakes and he'd eat so many he'd make himself sick. Then mum would start singing happy birthday really off-key while bringing out the little bag of presents we both know she hides under her bed." Jonathan smiles sadly and picks at a loose string in the blanket. "I always take a picture of Will on his birthday. He hates it, always complains when I tell him to hold up his presents and smile. But when I get the pictures developed, he takes them off me excitedly to see how they turned out."

Argyle hums and rolls onto his back as well. "Is Will upset we missed his birthday?"

Jonathan wishes Will was upset. He wishes his brother didn't just shrug his shoulders and say, "It's just a birthday." He wishes he could make Will see how important his birthday is.

It's a celebration of his life.

It's a reminder that he's still here, that they got him back.

"He said that there's more important things to worry about than his birthday." Jonathan whispers softly. He knows that there is some truth in those words, but he craves to have one normal thing happen this spring.

"Hm. He sure is a selfless little guy." Argyle yawns, which in turn causes Jonathan to yawn. Man, he really is exhausted. He rolls onto his side and closes his eyes, feeling a little better after talking to Argyle; it feels like the knot in his chest has been loosened, finally allowing him to breathe. "Night, Jonathan." Argyle whispers, his breath fanning Jonathan’s face.

"Night, Argyle." He says softly, thankful that the dark hides the flush in his cheeks.

--------

Jonathan wakes to the smell of pancakes and the sound of quiet chatter. He can hear the scrape of a spatula against a pan as someone flips a pancake.

"Will, slow down. You'll make yourself sick!" His mother's voice rings out around the small cabin. Will says something through a mouthful of pancakes that Jonathan can't quite understand from his spot in bed.

"Is Jon awake yet? I've made him a plate." That's Argyle.

Jonathan groans and stretches before slowly getting up and making his way to the small kitchen. Will and El sit at the table, a giant stack of maple syrup covered pancakes in front of both of them. "Morning." He says and drops a kiss to the top of both their heads.

Will laughs and scrunches up his face. "Your breath stinks."

Joyce passes him a cup of coffee and plants a kiss to his cheek. "Eat up before it gets even colder. Argyle's been swatting flies away from your plate all morning."

Jonathan can't stop the smile that pulls at his lips. He can't believe Argyle woke up early to make pancakes for them. Argyle beams at him from his spot in front of the stove and hands him a plate of pancakes. "Thought these might cheer you up a bit. Oh, and Will's agreed to let us throw him a party later."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did." El quips back, a teasing smile on her face as she leans forward and says, "You agreed the second mum said Mike can come over for dinner."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Will blushes bright red and stuffs another mouthful of pancake into his mouth.

Jonathan doesn't know why, but he feels like crying. He doesn't know if it's because Argyle actually listened to him and put in the effort to do something to make him and everyone else feel better, or if it's because El just called Joyce mum or because Will is smiling and eating pancakes on his late birthday morning.

Either way, he's just glad to have some sort of normalcy back into his life.

Argyle stands beside him, his hand resting on the small of Jonathan's back as he leans close to him and reaches for the maple syrup. "Don't tell Joyce, but I put a little something extra in our pancakes. If you get what I mean."

Jonathan meets Argyle's gaze, a little flustered by how close he is, and raises a brow. "It's 9 o'clock in the morning, dude."

"Suit yourself. Give me yours then." He goes to take Jonathan’s plate, but Jonathan holds it away and out of his reach.

"I didn't say I wasn't going to eat them."

Argyle smiles and dumps a generous amount of maple syrup on both of their plates. "Thank you for this." Jonathan says softly to Argyle.

He watches Joyce disappear into Hopper's room before coming back out with a little bag that's says 'happy birthday' in rainbow letters. Will groans and tries to hide his smile as their mum sings him happy birthday and places the present in front of him. "I called Mike a few months ago while we were still in California to ask for his help with your present. He said you'd like it." Joyce bites her lip nervously as Will pulls out a book.

"What is it?" Argyle asks loudly.

Will smiles so bright and full of joy, Jonathan wishes he had his camera so that he could have a picture of it forever. "It's the new dnd handbook! I've wanted this for ages! I love it, thank you!" He wraps Joyce up in a tight hug before letting go and bringing his chair around next to El so that they can look through the book together.

The room is full of happy chatter and full bellies and Jonathan is content to stay in this little bubble forever. He knows that this is only temporary, that there's still an evil waiting to be stopped, but for now he's happy to bump shoulders with Argyle and watch his little brother enjoy his late birthday.

Maybe this spring won't be so bad after all.

[stranger-fanfiction-n-things]

CHAPTER 5: THE FLEA AND THE ACROBAT

This is an Original Character fanfiction. All Stranger Things characters and content are owned by Netflix and The Duffer Brothers.

a/n: Chapter 4 is such a filler episode and I didn't like how I wrote it after I posted, but in rereading it after Chapter 3, it really does flow together and I can tweak loose ends in this present chapter! (See? Glass half full). Enjoy another mother-daughter moment between Diana and Sue!

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1021

Masterlist

PART I || PART II

Friday, November 11, 1983 - SINCLAIR RESIDENCE

The house is quiet this morning as everyone gets dressed for Will’s funeral. I stand in front of my full-length mirror staring at my reflection. After finding evidence of the thing that took Barb, neither Jonathan, Nancy and I had any idea on what to do with the information. How are we going to find it? Are we going to find it? As a group we decided not to tell the police because they already believe Nancy, Ms. Byers and I are crazy for suggesting that Barb and Will were taken by an animal with no face. This is something we would have to handle ourselves. If my parents found out about anything, they would probably move us out of town, far away from this insidious madness. Part of me wouldn’t blame them but, if there was even an inkling of hope in finding and bringing back Will and Barb, I was going to take that chance. The glimmer of hope in finding them burned deep in my gut. Lucas and I deserve to have our best friends back. 

I run my fingers through my hair. I couldn’t sleep and woke up early to take a hot comb to it in the kitchen. It took two hours and my arms burned from the arduous task, but the ease in repetition calmed the spiralling thoughts in my head. I even trimmed my ends a little. With my natural curls, my hair was at my waist, but after straightening it and trimming the ends, it fell past my bottom. Way too long for my liking and heavy. My neck aches. I lean forward making sure the lack of sleep didn’t show on my face. I can’t attend the funeral looking like I am half dead myself. I clear my throat smoothening out any wrinkles in my modest black dress. It seems like everyday something new happens in Hawkins and none of it has been good. Today my little brother was burying his best friend. Despite the glimmer of hope inside me, it is going to be a tough day to get through. 

“Diana, are you ready?” I hear Mom from the other side of my door. 

“Come in,” I say. 

Mom enters my room. She’s wearing a simple black dress, her freshly styled hair combed neatly in a bob cut. She looks very pretty. Mom smiles softly eying me from head to toe. I shift side to side on my feet, wiggling my toes against my nylons. 

“You look pretty.” Mom says, walking to me. She stands behind me, combing her fingers through my hair through the mirror. “I knew I smelled hair product in the kitchen this morning.” 

Heat creeps up the back of my neck. “I couldn’t sleep.” I admit. 

Mom sighs, parting pieces of my hair to lay over my shoulder. She gently places her hands on my arms swiping away any lint on the long sleeves of my dress before squeezing them. Her eyes soften as she looks at me through the mirror. The voice in my head screams for me to tell Mom about the photo, but I ignore it leaning into her touch. 

“I know the past couple of days have been hard on you and I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” 

“It’s okay,” I shrug, flaring my nostrils to satiate the burn in them. I don’t want to cry, not now.

Mom looks at me, shaking her head. “No, it’s not.” 

Tears immediately swim in my eyes and quickly wipe them away with my fingers before they fall down my cheeks. It’s too early to cry. I clear my throat, sniffing and fix my dress again. “Can you help me pick a shoe? Should I wear flats or heels?”

Mom stares at me for a moment and I know she wants to talk about everything, but decided against it, thankfully. I’m not sure I have the words to express how I’m feeling at the moment or have been the past couple of days. 

“Heels.” she responds. 

“Okay.” 

“Okay, put on your heels and I’ll be right back.” 

I nod my head and go to my closet rummaging around until I found my only pair of black kitten heels. I’ve only worn them for special occasions like Dad’s company dinners. Never for a funeral. I slide my feet into the shoes and walk out my closet just in time for Mom to walk back into my room. She’s holding a little black tube between her manicured fingers. A tube of lipstick. I blink in awe, feeling a jolt of surprise. Mom and Dad had a strict rule about not being able to wear makeup until I was 16. It was the one rule, I hated and begrudgingly followed. Yet here Mom was holding a tube of lipstick for me. I only ever worn lipstick for performances. Mom smiles at my reaction. 

“I think this will complete your look today.” 

I take the lipstick out of her hand, cherishing it like a delicate flower. I open the tube and stare at the wine-coloured lipstick. This was different than the colour I used for performances, darker and more elegant. I walk to my mirror and neatly apply the lipstick on my lips, opening my mouth to get the sides. I rub my lips together melting the wax between them and clean the edges of my mouth with my finger. I take a step back to look at my work. I already look more mature and womanlier, like Mom. Short stature and flat chest be damned. I smile, genuine and true. I smile so much my eyes disappear into my cheeks. Mom chuckles softly behind me and I can’t help but giggle at my reaction. 

“Thank you, mommy.” I gush, turning to give the lipstick back to her. Mom shakes her head, closing my fingers. Her gold wedding band twinkles. 

“Keep it.” 

My eyes widen. “Really?” 

“Of course, sweetheart. You’re almost 16.” 

I squeal happily thrusting my body onto hers and hug her tight around her neck. Mom laughs, her rumbles vibrating against my stomach. 

NEXT -> PART II

Taglist 🤍: @tinydramatist

[andiwriteordie]

Mike coming out to Will sometime during season 5 before they’ve confessed their feelings for each other or anything hehe

For the writing prompt requests <3 also CONGRATS ON 1500 ANDI U DESERVE IT!!

hi elli!!! oh my god this prompt 🥺 this is so sweet, and it was so much fun to write. (side note i have now written like 3 coming out stories in the span of a week so. that's fun!) also tysm!!! <3 i hope you enjoy this!

—

you pull me in (and i’m a little more brave)

Mike Wheeler has two secrets.

He’s never really been a person who has liked keeping secrets, at least not from his friends. He’s kept secrets from his parents for his entire life, so that doesn’t really matter. But Mike has always tried to be honest with his friends. After all, the Party’s first rule isn’t “friends don’t lie” for nothing.

But Mike Wheeler has two secrets, and he’s kept them close to his chest for the past couple of years.

The first secret is this:

Mike Wheeler is gay.

Yeah, that… that had been something difficult to come to terms with. It all started back in the fall of 1985 before everything went to shit and before the world started ending and before they got trapped into an interdimensional war with One and the monsters of the Upside Down. Talk about an awful time to have a sexuality crisis. 

Seriously. Mike spent… a lot of sleepless nights, absolutely terrified that his first big secret would be found out. When you’re fighting a monster who literally reaches into your brain and brings out the worst parts of you—the parts that you’re terrified to even admit to yourself—it’s really not a good idea to have this big of a secret. 

At least… at least that’s what Will said when he came out as gay, early last year.

God, he’s the bravest person that Mike knows. There’s no one braver in the world than Will Byers—not even El, whom Mike believes is really fucking brave. But El, as incredible as she may be, is also a superhero. Of course, she can bravely face monsters and government scientists and anything the world throws at her. Mike thinks he’d be braver too if he was better than Superman.

Will’s just Will though, and he’s been through so much. And yet, he makes the decision to get back up every time the world tries to knock him down. He stands up against all the monsters and the bullies and every single being that’s ever hurt him, and yet, he still manages to be the kindest, most loving person Mike has ever met. He’s never lost sight of who he is, and everything he does inspires Mike to be braver. 

There’s no one braver than Will Byers—no one better in the world than Will Byers.

And that’s exactly why Mike decides that Will Byers should be the first person in the world to learn his secret.

The two of them are sitting in Mike’s bedroom now. Earlier, he’d asked Will if they could talk—alone, he’d been quick to add. Naturally, Will had been a little bit confused, but he’d nodded and promised to come over to Mike’s room in the lab after dinner.

And so… here they are. 

Mike’s heart pounds inside his chest, and his hands feel clammy. Of all the people in the world, Will is going to be the most accepting. Everyone in the extended Party has been accepting of Will and Robin (who’d come out a few months before Will), so honestly, Mike knows he shouldn’t worry about their reactions. But still, he’s never shared this secret with anyone before, and… and it’s terrifying.

But this is Will.

And Will makes him feel brave.

So, with Will Byers’ kind hazel eyes staring back at him, Mike takes a deep breath, and he wrings his hands nervously.

And he chooses to let his walls down.

“Will… I… I’m gay,” Mike admits, his voice impossibly soft. He doesn’t dare look up at his best friend—not yet. The memories of words so cruel and so hurtful, said years ago on a day full of pouring rain and his worst mistakes, make their way to the forefront of his mind. “I… I’ve known for a while now, and I, um… I didn’t want to admit it... But I… I don’t want to hide anymore.”

Another breath—shaky and quiet this time.

Mike dares to look up, and he meets Will’s eyes. “I, um… I said some things to you when we were younger,” Mike whispers, and though his vision is a little blurry because of the tears stinging his eyes, he can still see the recognition that flashes across Will’s face. “Some really, really hurtful things… and I’m sorry, Will. I… I know it’s no excuse, but… that’s when I was first starting to realize this about myself… And I was scared, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

One more breath. In and out.

“I wanted to tell you first,” Mike says, his voice soft, “not… not just because you’re gay too, but… but because you’re my best friend in the entire world, Will. And I just… I trust you more than anyone else, you know? And also… because you make me feel brave enough to be myself. So… yeah. That’s it, I guess.”

For a moment, Will just stares back at Mike, as if he’s searching for… for something or trying to understand Mike better. There’s curiosity but also compassion and understanding in Will’s eyes, and before Mike knows it, he’s being pulled into Will’s arms.

“Oh, Mike,” Will whispers, holding him close. 

The embrace is warm and familiar and comforting, and God, fresh tears well in Mike’s eyes as he all but collapses into Will’s hug. Will’s arms wrap around him tighter in response, and Mike sniffles, burying his head in his best friend’s shoulder.

 “I’m so proud of you,” Will murmurs, rubbing Mike’s back gently. “God, I am so, so proud of you, Mike. You have no idea. Thank you. Thank you for… for trusting me and for being you. You’re incredible, and I’m so proud of you.”

Somehow, just like he always does, Will knows exactly what to say. He knows exactly what Mike needs to hear, and Mike can’t help the watery laugh that escapes his lips. “I didn’t really do anything,” he admits. “Nothing that you haven’t done.”

“Hey.” Will pulls back, just enough so they can look at each other now, and he smiles at Mike, gentle and familiar. “Coming out is terrifying no matter what, and it’s not about me. It’s about you and how brave you are and how incredible it is that you’re accepting who you are. So… I mean it, Mike. I’m proud of you, and thank you for trusting me enough to tell me.”

Will pauses for a brief moment; then, he smiles again. “When I came out,” he says softly, “Robin told me this… She said that the world becomes a better, more beautiful place whenever anybody accepts who they are and shares it with the world. So… just remember that, okay?”

Mike can’t help but smile, and he reaches up, putting his hand on top of Will’s. “Okay,” he whispers back. “Thanks, Will… Seriously. Thank you for… for everything.”

The look on Will’s face turns soft again, and for a moment, the world shrinks until it’s just the two of them. Something wildly beautiful and familiar and electric lingers in the air between them, close enough for Mike to reach out and grab it, and he nearly does.

Because, you see, Mike Wheeler has two secrets—though, he’s now shared one of those secrets with someone and is starting to find the courage to share it with others.

The first secret is this: 

Mike Wheeler is gay.

The second one is… a little more complicated than the first, and it’s this:

Mike Wheeler is in love with Will Byers.

[weirdo09]

everything’s fair in love and soul

a bywheelclair modern au fic chapter 2

little tip, play “scream my name” by fousheé when it comes up, you know :)

ok so maybe will wasn’t totally honest when he said that he didn’t like mike but, in his defense he didn’t really know himself. sure, as he was anxiously waiting for the band’s next concert, he might’ve thought about mike once or twice in a sort of non-platonic way. i mean who could you not when mike’s just that hot? anyways, will definitely does not care about that sort of stuff, right? besides they’re just friends, friends, totally.

the only one who seemed to see through this facade was max. in fact, she predicted it beforehand and boy was it hilarious. though, she felt the need to give will some sympathy, she was most certain that mike was gay because well, they have been friends for years and a girl knows things pretty quickly but, she didn’t wanna out him of course. besides, will didn’t even tell about his crush….yet. in fact later that day, will decided to pay max a visit for that exact reason, he desperately needed tips.

after a hour n half drive, will made it to her place and knocked on the door. max, who was currently watching tv at the time, got up and opened the door. there was will who looked very…confused? max couldn’t tell for sure but she had some idea of why he was there. “hey, byers, c’mon in!” max exclaimed, dragging will in by his sleeve. will, startled by max dragging him, obliged anyway. “oh uh, ok!” will said as max sat him down on the couch next to her. she flopped down on the couch, legs crossed.

“so, what brings you here?” max questioned, smirking a bit. “oh, well uhm…” will began to say, rubbing the back of his neck. max frowned, “well, c’mon now byers, i don’t have all day! tell me the deets, the drama, the tea! give me something!” max begged, will started laughing at her. “oh, ok max, i uh have been thinking about a boy.” will finally announced. max’s eyes gleamed with excitement, “sooo, who’s the lucky guy?” max asked, smirking and lightly poking will’s sides. “ah, max, stop!,” will said, chuckling. “ok, ok, but seriously, who is it?” max asked, staring at will with intensity. “it’s uhm…mike?” will said unsure, max’s smirk faltered. “you seriously like him? that guy?” max asked suspiciously. will looked down at his lap “yup, pathetic am i right?” will said, looking up to max’s eyes. when she saw how sad will looked, she instantly changed her demeanor.

“oh no, no, no it’s not that, it’s just, he’s kind of a loser.” max said playfully, hoping to lighten will’s mood. will cracked a smile “really?” he asked. “really.” max replied. “well, what makes him a loser?” will asked, slightly cringing at his question. “where to begin?” max thought aloud, scratching her chin as if she was actually thinking about what she was going to say. “well, first of all, he’s awkward, very awkward. second of all, he dresses like a grunge babe and third of all, he’s mike wheeler. all i have to say.” max said matter of factly.

will also scratched his chin, considering his options.“yeah, i still like him.” will said with fake disappointment. “i could get you a date with him.” max said, smirking devilishly. will chuckled “no, it’s ok, max you don’t have to.” he said sincerely “c’mon i want to do it besides i’m pretty sure he likes you too.” max suggested, raising a eyebrow. “please, will?” will sighed in defeat “yeah, sure, i guess” will said, max grinned. “this’ll be fun!” she said, rubbing her hands together as if she was planning something sinister. will looked at her, slightly worried but thought against the feeling for he knew he was in good hands. soon after that, they watched movies and will stayed over for a little sleepover.

at last, friday came and currently, will was deciding on what to wear for the occasion. he decided to ring up max because she had the best fashion sense between the three of them.(lucas, will and max) the phone rung for a while then she finally answered. “hey, max.” will said into the phone, holding to his ear. “hey, will, what’s up?” max replied. “oh uhm just wondering on what to wear to the concert and i thought you could give me a few pointers.” will said, staring at the outfits on his bed. “hold on, i’m coming over. be there in 5!” max said before hanging out. “max? max? maxine?” will shouted but then realized she hung up. so, he waited for max to arrive. sticking to her word, max arrived 5 minutes later. “i’m here!” max shouted as she ran down the hallway to will’s room. “how’s you get in?” will asked. “your mom gave me a key in case of emergencies.” max said casually, will huffed. ‘of course she would give max a key.’ will thought.

“so, what outfits you have picked out?” max asked, motioning to will’s bed. she went through them “no, no, no, no, maybe? no.” max said through each of them. “show me your closet.” she asked although it kinda sounded like a demand. “ok.” will said, opening his closet doors. max walked over and began browsing through his clothes. “if you want mike to notice, although i think he already has, you need to wear something that strikes his attention.” max said, will nodded, taking mental notes as she said that. “hmm, you got any crop tops?” max asked, turning her head to face him. “uhm, no?” will said confused. “hm, okay, got any tight shirts?” max asked. “yeah? i guess- w-what does this have to do with mike?” will asked. “he likes muscles and you clearly have them so we have to show them off.” max said as though it was obvious. “oh, uhm ok.” will agreed.

after a bit of browsing through will’s closet, max finally found him an outfit. “here put this on, i’ll be waiting in the living room.” max said before she left the room. after he put on the outfit, he walked out his room to show max. once will walked in the living room, max smiled inspecting her work. “you look good, byers.” max said sincerely. will has on a band tee, one size smaller than his actual size, a black and red plaid flannel, jeans and black and white checkered vans. “thanks, max.” will said, smiling. “now, let’s go, we gotta meet up with lucas!” max announced, grabbing will’s hand and dragging him out his door. “hey, max wait! i gotta lock my door!” will managed to spit out while being dragged. “ok, just hurry up, the concert starts soon.” max said impatiently. after will locked his door, they were off to get lucas’.

as they were on their way to get lucas, they played some tunes. when they made it to lucas’ driveway, they were met by erica, who happened to be walking outside. “hey, erica!” max exclaimed. “hey, max!” erica replied back, walking over to max’s car. “lucas should be out soon, he’s been taking forever picking out an outfit.” erica told to max, which made her cackle. soon enough, out came lucas walking to the car. “erica, why aren’t you inside?” lucas asked, erica looked him up and down “oh, no reason, just wanted to see your date.” erica said, laughing to herself as she walked back into the house. “ERICA!” lucas shouted after her. max coughed “are we going or not? i mean the concert’s literally starting in 30 minutes.” max said, tapping the steering wheel. lucas looked over “oh yea, sorry.” lucas said, climbing into the back side. “all good here, sinclair.” max said, driving away from his driveway.

when they arrived to the concert entrance, they quickly got out to not miss the rehearsal. as they went inside, will got a glimpse of lucas’ outfit. he was wearing a shirt that showed a bit of his chest, wide legged jeans, a jacket and vans. this made will blush for some reason. ‘he’s looks good…’ will thought then, shook his head ‘c’mon will, stay on track, you like mike!’ will thought as he walked to the stage. max happened to see this small interaction and smirked at it. ‘seems like i have to be cupid for three.’ max thought happily. soon after, the music began to play.

a scream was heard then the music played again. before mike began to sing, he said “this song goes out to someone special.” “this is scream my name by fousheé, enjoy!”

will thought about who mike could’ve been talking about, ‘’maybe it’s me?’

‘you wanna kick it, wanna dance with me’ ‘whole club kissing, they scanning me’ ‘you like it rough, i’m manhandling’

as mike sung that, will could’ve swore that mike looked at him when he sung it. suddenly, will’s breath began to catch.

‘i’m on your mix, oh you’re a fan of me?’ ‘i got that superstar energy’ ‘i know you see me on your tv screen’

will chuckled softly because of how cocky mike sing it, like he knew that he was popular. while mike was on stage, he saw will laugh which made him smile softly then he returned to singing.

‘you want to follow, swiping through your feed’ ‘let a rich it girl swipe you off your feet’ ‘so scream my name, we should do it on stage’

mike winked at will as he sung it. max rolled her eyes at her friend’s pining. will blushed and waved at mike.

‘they want this life, craving this fame’ ‘she super pretty, she pulling out her titties’ ‘she popping bottles, she like her weed sticky’

the song continued, the gang(will, max and lucas) were dancing. will was the one really into it, mike eyes glanced over at him for the fifth time. he smiled, looking as though his heart melted.

after the song’s end and people started heading out, max dragged will to the side. “now’s the time to ask him out.” max whispered to him while mike was walking over to them. “uh, hey will.” mike said, smiling. max smirked and nudged will on the shoulder. “looks like i should leave you lovebirds alone.” max said before going over to lucas.

“hey, mike you were really good out here.” will said, looking down at the floor, smiling. “thanks, glad that you liked it.” mike replied smilingly. will thought ‘should i ask him?’ “uhm, i was wondering who you dedicated the song to.” will said, regretting it after. “oh, i uh actually dedicated it to you.” mike said nervously. “oh…nice.” will said sheepishly “would you go out with me?” mike asked bluntly. that surprised will but he quickly recovered. “yeah, yes i’ll go out with you.” will said, mike then hugged him, he hugged back. “so i’ll see you saturday?” mike whispered in will’s ear. will turned his head to face mike’s. “sure.” will whispered back. will would say that what he did next was because he was a bit impulse, he kissed mike’s cheek.

mike blushed profusely, “bye mike, see you saturday!” will said as he speed-walked to his friends. “yeah, see you saturday…” mike whispered to himself, touching the cheek that will kissed and smiled. max smirked at will as he approached her and lucas, “so i assume it went well?” max said “oh, yea it did, why?” will asked “well, your future boyfriend is looking at you like you’re the sunlight in his little dark age.” max said honestly. will chuckled and looked over to mike. he was still standing here, smiling like a doofus. “he’s so cute.” will said aloud then covered his mouth. max then smirked further. “let’s head out.” she said, walking out the entrance, lucas and will following.

lucas wasn’t one to let his friend’s love lives affect his own life but will’s crush affected him for reasons he couldn’t explain. he felt like he was somewhat….jealous? will seemed to be glowing on their way home. lucas decided to push down his supposed feelings of envy. ‘if he’s happy, i’m happy.’ lucas thought to himself.

will felt like his whole conversation with mike was a dream. he felt lighter somehow like he could do anything now that he would soon be going out with mike wheeler. he was smiling the whole car ride to his apartment. though, will would occasionally glance over to lucas and see sadness in his eyes. will decided to not think much of it. ‘i can’t wait for saturday.’ will thought as he looked out the window.

@atbyler @michealqueerler @adorewillbyers @adoremikewheeler @xhavibee @eefonline @shutuperce @yelenapines @foodiewithdahoodie @verashalurks @finalgirlharrison @scrunklykou @thefruityfours

[bylertruther]

people who think will byers hates himself for being gay when will byers is one of the very few characters on the show that has refused to change himself to fit anyone else's idea of what he should be despite the fact that people, including his own father, have been harassing, bullying, and abusing him for it literally his entire fucking life are just...... so weird.

will's entire POINT is that he will survive and brave whatever you throw his way against all odds and come out on the other side of it still clutching on to his sense of self and hope that tomorrow will be a better day. the entire point of his character is that he loves what he loves without apology or shame.

he sings "that weird song he loves" in the middle of hell because it reminds him of his brother and offers him comfort in a place where there is none. he creates art because he loves it and doesn't care if it isn't something boys do, then he gifts it to his friends because he loves them and wants them to know it, too. he loves dnd and writes campaigns and dresses up for them because they bring him joy and he just wants to spend time with his friends even if they think they're "too cool" for it now.

he knows that sometimes it's harder than it should be to be gay in a homophobic society and has been harassed for that literally his entire fucking life it's LITERALLY how they introduce him to us not even twenty minutes into this fucking show and YET !!!!!!! he doesn't back away from that. ever.

he gets picked on for his clothes, but he doesn't change them. he gets called names, but he doesn't make any attempt to conform. his best friend, the boy that he's in love with and his very first friend ever, tells him it isn't his fault that he doesn't like girls and shamefully asks him if he really thought they were going to play games together in his basement for the rest of their lives and never get girlfriends, and what does will do?

he says yeah. i guess i did. i really did.

will faces all of that and goes to a new place where he has the golden opportunity of a clean slate, and what does he do? when assigned to do a presentation on his hero... he picks alan turing of all people. and when his brother later on tells him that he loves him no matter what, essentially giving him the It's Okay To Be Gay I Love You So Much And Always Will talk, still there is no denial on will's part here either.

will has NEVER, EVER denied being gay. he has NEVER tried to change that part of himself. he has ALWAYS stood tall and braved another day even when it was scary and hard. he has ALWAYS remained true to himself even though that has only ever made his life that much harder.

he said that sometimes he feels like a mistake for being so different from other people, but that being loved and accepted makes him feel like he isn't one at all and like he's better for being different and that gives him the courage to fight on.

literally what the fuck are you guys on about when you talk about will being self-hating for being gay. where is the canonical evidence for that? and more than that, why are you so keen on throwing away all of his acts of bravery and the sheer fucking strength of character that he's had since the very beginning? it would've been so much easier for him to conform, to be the "man" that everyone has always pushed him to be, but he doesn't ever do that. he stays true to himself no matter what. so, again, where the hell are these self-hating receipts?!

[wroteclassicaly]

Warnings: Language, self-esteem issues, a whole shit ton of angst, sadness, and so forth!

A/N: Literally have no idea what this is, only able to explain it as a product of my mood right now. I might do a second part? This is unedited, it has no title, is written as a flashback, and might not make sense, but I hope it’s still okay? It’s pretty intense, so I understand if it’s not liked or it’s upsetting. Idk if I’m even making sense rn.

Anyways…Love y’all! ❤️❤️

~*~

You thought you’d looked pretty. Robin had assured you a dozen times over—that yes, you had ‘it’ going on. Whatever ‘it’ was. But if you could have predicted that spending nearly two hundred dollars of your work paycheck to be ignored and embarrassed by your own foolish assumptions would be the end result, you would have not bothered and used the money to catch a bus to Chicago and bury your sorrows until you forgot your own useless name, that no one seemed to want to remember. Hawkins High Prom for the class of 86’, an event that you always assumed you would have attended with your best friend Eddie Munson, but instead leaving you to being arm in arm with former graduate Steve Harrington.

And that powerful confidence that you felt when you’d slipped into your gown and checked your hair and makeup, it vanished into voids unavoidable the second you and Steve stepped into the outrageously decorated gymnasium, and you saw regret through his hazel eyes, a nostalgia to missing out on having his former flame be in attendance to his own prom with him, and how he immediately sought out Nancy Wheeler across the gym, dressed in a flowing lavender dress and clinging to Jonathan Byers. You felt as if your guts had been eaten by stomach acid, only worsening once you caught Eddie holding Chrissy Cunningham close enough that there wasn’t any space between them. She looked like an Angel with her strawberry blond curls and pink gown, Eddie’s hair curlier than you’ve ever seen it, all black ensemble and a simple pastel pink rose pinned to his shirt. His rings adorned his hands, which splayed along her waist, swaying her in a suave grace that he must’ve learned beforehand. Or maybe, maybe you had never known him at all…

Steve had taken you to the dance floor not long after he couldn’t bear to watch his ex anymore, and you tried, you really fucking tried to keep that mouth watering burn from your throat, the stings that prickled your vision until it became blurry, but you failed. You wanted to say, “Steve, can’t we just keep dancing? Can you just hold me?”

But that wasn’t your reality. This was. They all wanted each other and nobody wanted you. Steve ended up stealing glances at Nancy and Jonathan, forgetting you were practically clinging to him and struggling to breathe through an oncoming panic attack. And you, you’d tormented yourself by watching Steve look at Nance, then you’d forcefully stared Eddie and Chrissy down, convincing yourself you were okay, only to remember by a physical and mental blow—no, you’re not.

Whoever was managing the music made you sick, because who in their right mind played two slow songs in a damned row, then topped it off with Total Eclipse of the Heart. Did they want to poke fun at those without partners here, or make everyone sad after Hawkins nearly burned to the ground? As the hours dragged on, the entire night fusing together, your one source of happiness being from watching Vickie and Robin together—you had wished for your flask that you didn’t even think to bring, ironically thinking Steve would look at you this time and not see his ex-girlfriend. When you originally propositioned Steve after you’d both discussed your mutual pining pains, it had been your loss of virginity, more great sex, and plenty of welcomed distractions. But you being you, you had gone and developed more than a few strings to that no strings attachment deal.

What does it say for being in love with one person and so deeply connected to another that you can’t decipher if it’s love or something else? You were thankful when those lovey dove ballads end and Steve excuses himself to (probably find a drink someone where that isn’t cafeteria made punch) use the restroom. That was short lived, however, as Eddie and Chrissy, linked hand in hand, invaded your space. Her perfume and his familiar cologne made your stomach roll. She was beaming beneath that rouge blush—happy, content, more like herself than the cheer captain she pretended to be.

You struggled with another emotion through it all—guilt. She had never hurt you, she loved your best friend without judgement, and you would die for Eddie, just as you almost did in the Vecna battle, so his happiness outweighed your wants and needs. He was okay and that’s what had mattered. He was graduating with a beautiful girl, both deserving of futures that were wonderful, whether that be apart or together. Their coupling hadn’t stopped your friendship with Eddie, but it also hadn’t stopped your crying yourself to sleep every night, watching them longingly, wishing Eddie would give you a little more free time like he used to, that his songs at The Hideout, that his ultimate, otherworldly solo had been dedicated to you, that his beautifully wild eyes were just seeing you.

And then came the guilt from being in love with your best friend, with someone else, and fucking Steve Harrington so you would be able to function like a normal human being and not sob uncontrollably everyday. You knew what you had signed up for, so falling for Steve and whatever bond that had grown (apparently, just on your end), bit you in your pathetic ass. Eddie had interrupted your self-loathing, a comment meant to sound genuine, serving to make you irate and avoidant.

“You look nice.” Was what he had said. Chrissy agreed with that beautiful smile.

His statement was like a dagger in your chest, dragging up and down, effectively gutting you. You didn’t mean for it to come out fast, or at all, for that matter, but it slipped off dejected, bitter. “No, I don’t.”

Another dose of irony, you’d thought, as Cinderella’s ‘Don’t Know What You Got’ began to play in echoing speakers.

Eddie hadn’t gotten the chance to say anything else, you halting his word formation, leaving it resting on his tongue’s tip. “Is Rick out of the slammer yet?”

His brow had raised into his hairline, practically. “Think so. Why?”

“Just need some shit.” You’d shrugged a nonchalant shoulder after responding, the strap of your dress too itchy.

You chose to think Eddie’s concerned stares were non-existent, that even Chrissy looking worried for you was your hopeful imagination. It’s not like you hadn’t gotten high before. Granted, it was always from Eddie and it was always just weed. By the time Steve was back and providing conversation between the gaps, your entire dress had started to suffocate you. Divine intervention came in the form of another song—albeit—slow, you’d taken it over standing there any longer.

You didn’t ask Steve where he went, didn’t answer his attempts at asking if you were okay, or if you wanted to ‘go to the bathroom’ with him. You’d simply settled for resting your cheek near the cove of his freckle spattered neck, pretending that he wasn’t seeing Nancy in your eyes, that your waist wasn’t hers beneath his large hands. Steve had felt it before you realized, moisture soaking his shirt collar, slicking his skin. He’d pulled back and thumbed your cheekbone, hazel irises widening in realization.

“Fuck, Y/N, are you okay?”

You couldn’t stomach his pity, your eyes had cast another dart to Eddie and Chrissy, whom were forehead to forehead, together. And then Nancy, her gaze had shifted to Steve and you. It had made you drop his hold like a hot iron, awkward and shrinking back.

“Honey…” Steve had tried gently, tone laced with a gentle coax. “M’ so sorry.”

You’d exited your prom in a hasty retreat, ignoring Eddie’s panicked acknowledgement, Steve’s following footsteps. Trashing your high heels in the garbage on the way outside, you had already began to pull at your dress’ back, the zipper too high for your reach. The asphalt was cool against your stocking clad feet, that stupid pedicure was laughing up at you. Your chest had expanded in size, ribcage being dusted to ash by a vice squeeze, one that threatened to have your entire chest cavity caving in. The way your throat had closed around pleading words that fell into the void, panic settled in and exploding, demolishing you in the process.

People were stumbling all over, kissing, happy, horns were honking, and you stood in the middle of the open double doors where Wham’s ‘Everything She Wants’ was booming in vibrations from inside the gymnasium, invading your anxiety attack as a fucked up soundtrack to your misery. Steve’s hand had clasped over your shoulder when you remembered how your cries had started getting more noticeable, anguished.

“Fucking dress. I’m so stupid! Off, get it off! I hate it! I hate this!”

Steve had not felt more powerless in his life, not since Nancy had broken his heart and fell for Jonathan. He didn’t know what to do to reach you, so he had unzipped your gown halfway to help you try and breathe a little easier. It didn’t work. You had went right for ripping the expensive fabric at every thread you could get your hands on, pawing at it until it became tattered on your body. Your hands had ripped your hair into disarray from its updo, smearing your lipstick and carefully applied shadow into smudges as it mingled with your tears.

You were babbling and what Steve did catch on your fragmented language, it caused tears to fill his eyes, stomach feeling as if he’d been sucker punched, his mouth opening and closing.

“Why doesn’t anyone want me?”

And you’d walked away, arms wrapped tightly around you, holding yourself.

You, nor Steve hadn’t seen Eddie’s rush outside, stopping short and breathless, in angry awe of the entire scene, throat tight and lashes wet. He watched Harrington’s head bow, that coiffed mane in perfect disarray, hand swiping at his nose. Both men were frozen, in disbelief. You were broken and no one had realized just how much…

~*~

Tagging:

@littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson @ethereal27cereal @thisishellfire @inklore @indouloureux @gothbitchshit @corrodedhawkins @pinkchubbiebunnie @likedovesinthewnd

I’m sorry if some of y’all don’t want tagged. I didn’t know who to tag in this. :/

[iloveyourwritingthankyou]

Eddie x Cheer Manager!reader - post graduation head canons

hey guys I'm sorry this took so long i hope you enjoy it!!

Masterlist

Eddie and reader graduate together at the end of ‘86

Eddie and reader are a year apart in age, reader repeated a year after all of the upside-down stuff made it hard for her to concentrate on school

Eddie isn’t sure what he wants to do after school aside from the band and reader convinces him to go all in, “babe if you can save an entire town with a guitar solo you can totally sell out a venue”

Reader decides to take a gap year before college because she just wants a break after everything that happened the past few years

Reader accompanies Eddie to rehearsals for a few weeks before she gets a little bored and decided to do what she does best, manage!

She starts by trying to unify their image a little more, listing all the clothing elements they had in common so they could plan more cohesive outfits for gigs

They all have a lot of energy but none of them seem to know quite what to do with that energy on stage, so reader starts working on some basic choreography

She also starts looking at designing a logo for the band, though she has Eddie do most of the drawing

Eventually the band starts getting really good tips and energy from the crowd when they perform but there’s only so much they can do in the middle of Indiana

So reader does some research and suggests that the band moves somewhere that metal is a little more lucrative – San Francisco

They’re a little apprehensive at first, it’s a big commitment and it costs a bit to move more than halfway across the country but reader is so sure this is going to work that they can’t help but believe her

Eddie and reader get an apartment with the rest of the band so that costs are cheaper

Reader manages to book the band a gig in a small venue not long after they get there, she’d made a lot of friends organising gigs closer to Indiana and after quite a few phone calls had managed to gain some contacts in San Francisco

One of the bands corroded coffin opened for on the east coast is running a gig and reader convinces them to give eddies band the spot again – it wasn’t really hard they loved corroded coffin last time

The crowd in San Fran really likes corroded coffin and they get consistent gigs opening for other bands across a few venues

Reader keeps helping the band work on their craft, planning the set lists so that she can choreograph the whole set together

The new strategy really helps the boys, with planned rests letting them keep energy up right to the end of their performances

Eventually corroded coffin begin getting headlining gigs allowing them to save up to start recording their songs

They get signed fairly quickly after the demos are recorded, with eddies charisma and readers careful curation making them a valuable addition to any label

The band manages to barter for a pretty decent contract as reader has already done a lot of the heavy listing a label would do

This contract includes the term they had to fight hardest for, getting to keep reader as manager

The label was certain that they should have a proper industry manager, it would help them do better

but the band absolutely refuses to get rid of reader, they’re a little convinced she's a good luck charm so they, especially Eddie, demand that they keep reader and that she can just get training if the label is that insistent

Reader does end up getting trained and Eddie loves it because it makes it so much easier to bring her with him on roadies when they eventually start touring

Reader and Eddie enjoy touring, but they make sure they get to spend considerable amounts of time in San Fran because that’s where their family is!

Because eventually the whole Hawkins squad ends up in San Francisco for various reasons

The hoppers-byers family goes at the start of the new school year for a few reasons

They decide that Eleven should be able to go to school and that she would raise less suspicion in a big city where not everyone knows each other

Joyce also figures it’s the best move for her sons, knowing it would be best for Will to grow up somewhere more safe and accepting

Eddie runs the hellfire club for Will and his friends once everyone is settled in, he grants official leadership of the Hawkins branch to Dustin in his absence

While Eddie was stoked at the idea of the hellfire club expanding across the country he was happiest when everyone eventually made it to California and they became one group again

Will is actually the groups dungeon master by the time everyone is together again with corroded coffin taking off but Eddie and reader are equally happy to be party members whenever they’re in town

the band has a low intensity campaign they play on the road, rockstars or not they’re all still nerds at heart

Joyce also knows Jonathan would love to follow Nancy if he didn’t feel the need to look after his family, so moving them all to San Francisco means Johnathan doesn’t have to sacrifice anything

Nancy moves in 87’ after scoring a journalism position with the San Francisco chronicle

The exclusive piece she writes solving the sting of homicides in her town the year before grants her enough credit that she’s considered a lucrative potential employee

Johnathan lives with his family for a few years, he does free lance photography for a few newspapers, making more money by being able to sell to multiple bidders

Occasionally he’ll grant Nancy exclusive rights for an article, putting her work that much further ahead of everyone else

Eventually he and Nancy get their own apartment after Nancy gets promoted

The paper makes her lead journalist after she scores an exclusive interview with Eddie about the bands third album tour

With Jonathan being granted exclusive backstage access for concert photos the article is unmatched

Mike begins planning his move to California the moment Will and Eleven tell him they’re leaving

his belongings are packed as early as he possibly can and he leaves the morning after their high school graduation

Mike Will and Eleven get an apartment together though after a while Will is the only one who ends up living there full time

Mike and Eleven are gone most weekends as they make their money as a magic act in Vegas, hopper was apprehensive at first but once he sits in on a performance and realises everyone just thinks they’re illusions he calms down a little

Eleven only uses her powers for some of their tricks to avoid raising too much suspicion – they stuff cotton up her nose to hide any bleeding

Max Dustin and Lucas leave together not long after Mike moves

They were all keen to get away from the dangers of Hawkins, no longer trusting that the upside down and its monsters would stay dormant

Max had missed California since the move to Hawkins and was excited to move back

Lucas was happy to follow max and they both agreed that San Francisco was a better option than LA between getting to stay near their friends and not wanting Lucas to be anywhere near the Los Angeles police

Dustin had no real interest in staying in Hawkins without his friends and San Francisco put him less than a 24-hour drive from Suzie

Eventually Dustin manages to get Suzie to move out of her house, the distance from her dad lessening the religious guilt a little

Dustin and Suzie move out of San Francisco fairly early after they both gain lucrative jobs in Silicon Valley, Dustin with a tech firm and Suzie with the us defence department

They’re both fairly happy that it’s not too far away though as it allows them to take their kids to see all their aunts and uncles very easily

Reader and Eddie love to babysit everybody’s kids especially because they don’t plan to have their own kids, Eddie always comes back from tour with a tiny suitcase full of souvenirs for all his nieces and nephews

Reader was absolutely stoked to see her little brother again; she’d only been gone about a year but phone calls and letters just weren’t the same

Reader convinces Eddie to throw a welcome back party when the last of the kids arrive

They have snacks and alcohol courtesy of Eddie, who also planned a DND one-shot for everyone to play at the party

Dustin is absolutely ecstatic that they had finally convinced max to join in

Robin and Steve leave Hawkins last, wanting to make sure that the kids still in Hawkins always have someone around to look out for them

Robin decides she’s tired of walking on eggshells around the people of Hawkins and the idea of an established community she can be a part of sounds immensely appealing

she convinces Steve to come with her and get an apartment for a few reasons

first of all, she knows Steve wont last 5 minutes without his gaggle of kids to look after; she remembers summer before Dustin came back

second of all, the longer Steve went struggling to find what he wants in a woman the more his feelings sounded very familiar, she figures he might be a little more willing to process those feelings in a more accepting place

corroded coffin play gay bars fairly often and reader invites Steve and Robin to a gig to go drinking once they’re in town

Steve finally comes to the realisation he was bi at one of the corroded coffin album release parties after Eddie gives everyone some party favours to get everyone in the right mood

Eddie, Robin, and reader may be seen exchanging money when Steve starts talking to one of the members of eddies newest opening act

Robin has never been happier to have to make her own breakfast when she realises Steve hadn’t come home the night before

[my-hyperfixations]

Someone on here has probably already said this but I’m gonna repeat it:

I think one of the biggest pieces of evidence for Byler is how they addressed it in season 4 and the set up for season 5.

If Byler was unrequited, then Will would have confessed this season and Mike would’ve rejected him. But that didn’t happen. Will is still hiding his feelings from him and Mike doesn’t know the truth about the painting (More about the painting later).

Another big part is how they made Will’s feelings for Mike canon. The Duffers had no reason to do this if Byler is not meant to be endgame. You’re telling me they added this in just for queerbait? Yeah I don’t think so. Stranger Things is one of the most popular shows in the world, I don’t believe the Duffers would just make Will have feelings for Mike in hopes of bringing in a few more views.

It’s also HOW they chose to make Will’s feelings canon. They made Will IN LOVE with Mike. It’s not “oh he just has a crush” or “Mike was Will’s awakening” or “oh Will just finds him cute”, no. The Duffers have made Will Byers IN LOVE with Mike Wheeler. This is IMPORTANT. This isn’t some minor thing that’s gonna get played off, it is going to be a HUGE plot point next season.

Speaking of huge plot points next season: the painting. This is going to be the Chekhov’s gun. It was established back in the FIRST TEN MINUTES of EPISODE ONE of the VERY FIRST SEASON that Will doesn’t like lying to Mike. Even if it’s just small thing like a dice roll in a D&D game. Will lying about El “commissioning the painting” and him using her as a hidden confession is going to be play big role next season. Mike is practically GUARANTEED to bring the painting up to El at some point, meaning he WILL be finding out the truth. And this is going to shock him that Will has lied to him. This is most likely going to lead to either a fight or confession or maybe both. The Duffers would not spend an entire season (and maybe more than that) building up this plot point and the romantic tension just to throw it all away and say “pffttt of course Mike doesn’t like Will, he likes El!”

And I fully believe that Byler is requited. The writers would not throw in “Will has been acting weird, maybe there is someone he likes?” and then have MIKE being the one acting weird all season. They would not throw in the direct parallels of “You never say it.” / “I say it!” vs “Oh I didn’t say it.” / “You didn’t have to.” They would not put in the script that the moment was “shattered”. There is a reason Mikes thoughts are hidden from us this season: they are going to come out next season and reveal the truth that he’s in love with Will. His entire character in season 3/4 only really makes sense if you read his actions as a closeted queer kid trying to fit into societal expectations and repressing his true feelings for his best friend. This is the only lens through which his character can be fully understood and analyzed. Or at least the one I believe.

The Duffers have also shown us that Will and Mike need each other. Mike says that things will be easier if “[they’re] a team.” Mike outright tells Will that Hawkins “isn’t the same without [him].” And Will tells Mike in his speech that he will always need him, albeit indirectly and using El as a proxy. Mike also feels inferior in his relationship with El, using his metaphor of Superman and Louis Lane to show how he feels like she doesn’t truly need him in her life romantically. However, Will DOES need Mike. Will is someone that makes Mike feel important and equal: Mike is able to open up to Will more than ANY other character we see through the show and the two share MANY talks where Will is able to sympathize with him and is able to finish his sentences. They complete each other.

My other point I want to bring up is if Byler isn’t required. Someone else said this in a post but there simply wouldn’t be time for Will and Mike to mend their friendship if Will’s feelings aren’t requited. Imagine if Will came out to Mike and then confessed that he had feelings for him, and Mike was all “oh sorry but I don’t like you like that.” Their relationship would be very awkward and take a while to get back on good ground. Not to mention that if Byler is unrequited, and the Duffers made Will in love with Mike for queerbait, then they would have ruined a perfectly good friendship for NOTHING. Absolutely NOTHING. It would have been better to leave them as friends and never make Will’s feelings explicitly canon rather than Mike reject him in season 5. Their friendship was a perfectly good one and the Duffers would not ruin that by having Will develop feelings for Mike for it not to go anywhere.

Overall it would be absolutely shitty writing if the Duffers didn’t make Byler canon, thank you for coming to my Ted talk. Someone has probably said this before in a much clearer way that makes more sense, but I just wanted to throw in my two cents.

[henrysglock]

Literally no one cares but I need to put the vision into words otherwise it'll eat me up. So.

I've been listening to The Ballad of Jane Doe on repeat lately (it scratches so many brain itches) and I can't help but think about what it might be like if it had been a pseudo-duet between Jane and John Doe (ignoring the plot of Ride The Cyclone, of course, singling the song out as a stand-alone song).

Thinking about the lyrics as an emotional dialogue of sorts, where Jane is monologuing to John, and John is non-verbally monologuing back to her (and us) through his expressions, thoughts, and actions.

Jane and John speaking to each other that way. Jane who can't remember who she is lamenting her amnesia to John, who she can't remember and who can't remember her either. Jane and John, who each know the other is important to them, but can't figure out why. Jane and John, drawn by gravity alone. Jane, pleading for her memories back, begging John to remember something, anything, because it feels like he should. John, lamenting that he doesn't remember her even though it feels like he should.

And of course this makes me want to craft a theory about s5 (just for my own fun tbh). It combines the "Will is being erased from the memory of every person who knows him/loves him" birthdaygate theory with s2 Will's memory loss during his possession.

I have a ficlet of sorts written about it below. it's kind of messy, and I'll be polishing it up a bit later and sticking it on ao3 for shits and giggles but...If you want to read my cringefail writing now, you are more than welcome to it.

but like y'know. if you don't have something nice to say, don't say anything at all. thanks!

Say we've got Will, wiped out by Henry, his memories either completely erased or completely hidden from him so that he no longer resists Henry. This happens in a major burst of energy emitted from the Upside Down, a shockwave of mental force from Henry. Will is locked out of his own memories. He's simultaneously wiped out of the memories of everyone who ever knew him and who happened to be in the blast radius...but ONLY the memories occurring AFTER his funeral in 1983. Will Byers existed once, but not anymore. Not since November 1983, certainly not in 1988.

In light of that, we have Will and the Party, who were investigating the Rifts as a team, being hit by Henry's blast and subsequently waking up together. It's El in the woods all over again. Mike, Lucas, and Dustin can't just leave this bewildered and clueless boy out in the semi-Upisde-Down wilderness alone, so they take him home, hoping someone will recognize him.

(I'm highlighting his "name" because it just feels so wrong to call Will by a different name without constantly reminding everyone that that's not his real name)

No one recognizes him, of course, and evidently even he doesn't know who he is. So, he becomes John. John Doe. The name fits like a shirt one size too small, a scarf wrapped too tightly. It's not like he knows any better, though. So...John it is.

History repeats itself. Something about this boy reminds Mike of his "dead" best friend (who, if we're being honest, he never really believed was dead). He doesn't tell John about Will, but he offers an olive branch, brings John one of the (slightly stale) bags of chips the group had stockpiled for special occasions. They talk, and the feeling that they should know each other grows. Mike sticks himself to John's side like a burr. For John, it feels like coming home, like a warm fire in the winter. For Mike, it feels like he know this boy, like reading a book you once read as a child, like a memory half-forgotten. It can't last.

John is struggling with this pattern of knowing things (like the fact that he loves Mike, that he'd give anything to stay by Mike's side) while being unable to understand why outside of "it feels right". Mike, meanwhile, is facing criticism for what the Party perceives as him trying to make John fill the Will-shaped hole that was torn in his life 5 years ago, without ever actually telling John about Will (maybe they're on to something there. Mike would never admit it, though). Mike begins to distance himself, and he doesn't tell John why. John notices, of course. He pushes it away, it's not like he even really knows Mike anyway. The tension and confusion can only grow so much before something gives.

(This bit is the scene I was thinking about, the beginning bit is just for context and backstory.)

Then one day in early November 1988, John feels a pull to the UD. He doesn't question it. Why should he? He marches himself right through a gate to pursue it. Mike can't lose this boy, his almost-Will, too. He chases after him, and the gate closes, locking them both in the Upside-Down alone.

While searching for the source of the pull, there's nothing to do but talk. Well, quietly regard each other and wait for the other person to speak.

John breaks first. He asks Mike, theorizes if this pull he feels coming from the hellscape is his soul. Where is his soul? Is it here, rotting alongside Hawkins? No soul, and no name, he laments. He feels like an imposter, a sham. Is he even a person at all? Was he ever a person? With no one to tell him, and no way of remembering on his own, he feels like a shell at best. Like the label "person" doesn't belong to him.

Mike watches and listens as he continues, quietly, sadly trailing just behind John. He tamps down the part of him that wants to swoop in and label him as Will, the part that wants to assign anything that ever was Will to this blank slate of a boy. It would be so easy for Mike to say "Wait, I know you! You're Will Byers!" and fill the gap for them both. If he didn't have to contend with the Party (and the Byers family, whose son/brother is still dead, for fucks sake), he would do it in a heartbeat. He would have Will back, in a sense. He would spend eternity loathing himself for it, for imposing Will on this boy (for betraying Will). He doesn't think he'd regret it, though, and if he thinks about it hard enough...he doesn't really think Will (perfect, angelic Will, too good, taken too soon, has it really been 5 yea--) would hold it against him either.

John turns to Mike, visibly upset. He tells Mike that he feels like Mike should know something, that maybe he does know something, that maybe he's just refusing to say it.

"Why won't you just tell me who I am?" he questions, "Shouldn't you know? You should know me, Mike. You and I...We feel like an old song, one that someone heard on the radio once and almost forgot, but not just yet. One that's going to keep lingering until we figure out what it is. Only us. You and me, forever, eternally, John and," he gestures vaguely at Mike, "Jane Doe."

John immediately realizes the implications of his words. He turns away, heart stuttering in his chest. He didn't mean for it to be so obvious. The way it sounded. The way he feels, the things he wants. The way Mike might take it, like he's saying they're soulmates or something. The way he maybe, kind of (totally) meant it. He turns his frustration towards the situation, but his ranting is still directed at the only other person present: Mike.

"I just want to know why, Mike. I mean...If this is how I die, Mike...Why be left with no family and no friends? If I die here, I'll get no celebration, just the consolation that time will eat us all in the end. If I died...who would care? And whatever this," he gestures between them, "is? It'll be just another sad, forgotten song that no one knows. That's just how it goes! Just 'Jane' and me, forever, eternally, John fucking Doe!"

Mike winces as John's voice rings out in the empty street, his desperation and frustration echoing into the spore-riddled air. He places a hand on John's shoulder, and John turns to him, refusing to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. I just...I clearly lived in Hawkins. Isn't there anyone who can tell me who I am?" John's voice drops to a whisper. "Does no one care?"

Mike can do nothing but surrender to the urge to pull John in for a hug, trying to convey how much he cares. He can feel John's shoulders shaking with silent sobs and pulls back just enough to tip John's face up by the chin, staring directly into his teary eyes. Mike brushes a thumb across a grimy tear track and abruptly notices how close their faces are. They've been in the Upside Down for two full days now. They're filthy. He doesn't care.

"You must think I'm crazy. I sound crazy," John murmurs, breaking their eye-contact to stare blankly at a button on Mike's shirt.

Mike's breath catches, and he immediately shakes his head, still cupping John's cheek. He replies in the gentlest of tones, "No. No, no, no. I would care. I do care. You're not crazy, John, but even if you were...Well, we'd go crazy together, then."

John's eyes snap up to Mike's, the hazel meeting mahogany in a moment of glorious recognition. He's heard that before. Someone said it to him once. Someone he loved, someone who meant the world to him. Someone who...loved him, perhaps. A hazy picture forms in his mind, a boy in a tan jumpsuit with a dark hair and dark eyes, freckles splashed across his sloping nose.

"Crazy...together," he whispers, processing the words, how they feel in his mouth. They're still only inches apart. John can feel Mike's breath on his face. That boy couldn't be anyone but Mike. John is certain of it; he's never been more certain of anything.

"It's you. I know you, Mike. I know you. I...I remember you. It can't be anyone but you," John chokes out, barely audible, his voice thick with tears and wonder as the memory sharpens.

Mike stares at John, eyes alight in equal parts confusion and intrigue. "It...can't be anyone but me? You remember me? You mean..." He trails off, mind whirring as he attempts to catch the thread connecting John's statements.

"Mike. A tan jumpsuit, 'Venkman' stitched into the upper left side. In your basement. You said we'd go crazy together," John chuckles wetly, shaking his head, "It couldn't have been anyone but you. It could never be anyone but you."

Mike knows he's missing something, a vital piece of the puzzle. His eyes dart across John's tear-streaked face, brows furrowed as he searches desperately for a clue.

Then John smiles at him. It's a small, delicate thing, filled with nothing but adoration. That's his smile, Mike thinks offhand. And then it clicks. The missing piece snaps into place. That's his smile. The only person who ever smiled at Mike like that was Will.

Mike shudders with the force of his gasp as his entire reality shifts, the events of the past months slipping neatly into context. "You...How..." His voice drops to the barest of whispers, afraid that saying it any louder would shatter the dreamlike moment, "Will?"

The name settles into John's bones like gravity. The shirt fits right, the scarf loosens from around his neck. Will. He's Will. He nods at Mike, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks. They stare at each other, adrift in the revelation.

It feels like an eternity. It's a split second. Mike moves first, surging towards Will in pure need. They meet in the middle, Will's hands tangling in Mike's dark hair, and Henry--no--Vecna's curse crumbles away. Every stolen memory returns in a rush of light, swing-sets and hospitals and a painting in the back seat of a dusty pizza van (You're the heart, Mike--) flashing past in a dizzying handful of seconds.

They part for air, and Mike drops his head to bury his face in Will's shoulder. He's trembling with the force of the entire experience, but also with the realization of what he just did. He feels Will pull him closer, hold him tighter, and he allows himself to lean into the embrace, his shaky knees finally giving way. A sob tears itself from his throat and the floodgates open, fear and grief and longing burbling up from his chest and out through his eyes in burning tears.

They sink to the ground, Will refusing to let go for even a second as the love of his life breaks down in his arms. He hushes Mike gently, and reassures him, "It's okay, Mike, I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"You were dead, I remember grieving you," Mike chokes out between sobs, "He took you from me. You were gone for so long, Will--"

Will cuts him off, "No, Mike. I was never gone. I was hidden in plain sight, but you found me. Again. You always find me, Mike, no matter where or who I am."

With a shuddering breath, Mike slowly moves to gaze up at Will, as if he's afraid that this is all a dream that could dissipate if he moves too fast. "You're really here...You were never gone...It was all him. And--and you..." He trails off, nervous to speak the words.

Will smiles down at Mike, eyes warm and bright. He knows. He also knows he doesn't need to say it, but he wants to. "Yes, Mike. I love you too."

An astonished giggle bubbles out of Mike at Will's words, elation replacing the grief that had made a home inside his heart since Henry's attack. "Holy shit, Will..." Mike stares up at Will from his place in his arms with starry eyes, sniffling quietly as reality fully settles in his mind.

"I know, Mike," Will reassures him quietly, using his shirtsleeve to wipe the tears from Mike's cheeks. "It's okay, you don't need to say anything. I already know."

The pair lingers in the moment, unwilling to let it go. There are battles to be fought, a hellish dimension to escape, a demon of a man to destroy. For now, though, they'll sit huddled together on the damp, cold ground of the Upside Down and allow themselves to bask in the small sphere of warmth and light they've created.

[aeinstong]

Okay. Byler discussion ahead.

I’m going to give the Duffer brothers the benefit of the doubt (even though they’ve done nothing to deserve it. They quite literally made the only canon lesbian in love with a very unimpressive side character with no personality other than what robins personality is, killed an incredibly queer coded man -even though it made no sense- for shits and gigs, and took the other queer man and made him only suffer for four seasons because queer people cant be happy). So I will be playing devils advocate a tiny bit. The build up for Byler in the entirety of the show, especially in season 4, was just kind of thrown away in vol 2. The only way they could salvage it is by making Byler explicitly canon in season 5.

For a minute lets talk about the build up I’m referring to. Will Byers and Mike Wheeler met in Kindergarten on a swing set and became instant friends. A detail they pay specific attention to. A detail they deemed so important that its the memory Mike used to try and reach Will when he was possessed by the Mind Flayer. Mike even claimed it was the best decision he ever made. Again when Will lost his memory he could still easily say “thats my friend Mike”. Also not to mention the whole lets go crazy together vow in Mike’s basement (i think thats where it was?? Idk I’m going off of memory here). Mike and Will are the only ones out of the original Party to have these moments. Then in season 3 Mike starts becoming a complete ass towards Will??? Which did not make sense based on Mike’s previous actions. Then Will and Mike get into an argument where Mike says and I quote “its not my fault you don’t like girls”. Now what the hell boy. Where did that come from? It would’ve made more sense for him to say “I’m sorry you don’t have a girlfriend!” or “its not my fault you don’t have a girlfriend”. That alone implies so many things. Then in season 4 we have Mike acting strange and overall just kinda avoiding Will. Which is unusual because visiting your best friend should cause more enthusiasm. Unless you have repressed feelings toward said best friend and you also have to be around your girlfriend while dealing with those feelings. He probably feels guilty for his feelings and is avoiding Will in favor of giving El attention because it makes him feel more “normal” (not gay). But Mike is aware he doesn’t love El because he can’t even bring himself to write it let alone say it. Why do you have such a hard time saying you love your girlfriend of multiple years when you’ve already told her? Then we have the longing stares and the tender emotional music. And the talk about opening up and feeling afraid between Mike and Will. Then in volume two we have Will telling Mike how wanted and loved he is by “El” (actually just him. It was so obviously not about El even my catholic father noted that Will is in love with Mike).

But nope! The Duffer brothers decided that the reason Mike can’t say I love you is because he’s afraid of losing her (how does that make sense in any way shape or form). Oh and the reason he’s being an asshole to Will is because Mike decided to be an asshole one day.

Buuuut, if they have a confession scene this could all come together. Mike and someone arguing and he just lets it all spill including his feelings towards Will. Mike breaks up with El probably with the encouragement of Nancy or whoever he spilled to. We have a confession between Will and Mike both and they get together. Im really hoping this is what they had in mind all along. All fixed.

[itsjustbyler]

Ok that is my first birthdaygate post and I don't know if someone already talked about it but... I think they didn't forget his birthday, but his memories, including his birthday, are being transformed into something bad, not really being gone, and that has to do with the Mindflayer... I will try to explain:

The rainbow spaceship: S2 Will wasn't being related to homophobe slurs anymore and Lonnie was gone, so maybe he was starting to feel better about his sexuality. BUT S3 comes and we have his best friend, the boy he is in love with screaming at his face "It's not my fault you don't like girls". Will of course doesnt forget his feelings for mike, but that destroyed him ...

The birthday: Will says himself, the day was miserable for him because he was third wheeling all day, he fights with Mike again, El was bullied, Jonathan was high, Joyce was crazy with the possibility that Hopper was alive. They did forget, but because a lot happened that day and not because the memory wasn't there before. Will knew it was his birthday, but he was so mad that he didn't bring that up (I hope he does on s5). Anyway, the memory is a bad thing now... Maybe the gift card that is at Will's room ("I forgot your birthday") was from Jonathan or Joyce and Will hides because of Mike, the only person we see coming into his room...

Castle Byers: A place that Will feels safe, build with his brother to run away from Lonnie. But then S3 we have Will breaking down and destroying it. The memory of building castle byes is still there, but now I am sure that Will think this is not a safe place anymore, it reminds him of his fight with Mike...

"the best thing I've ever done" vs "I feel like my life started the day we found you in the woods". That explains itself. Will was standing there, seeing the guy he is in love declaring his love to his sister and basically saying that his life started the day he found out Will was missing (up to interpretation). Will and Mike didn't forget how they met, but now that is something different to Will.

And finally, did you notice that everything about this is around Mike???? The guy who was able to break parcialy Will's connection with the Mindflayer??? The guy who notices something off in the lab and was able to save them??? The one who is associated with number 1 in S4, with the possibility of being Vecnad??? Who can be the key to Will??? I don't know if I made sense here, my English is not that good so sorry for any mistakes, but I wanted to make clear that I think it wasn't forgotten, but turned into something bad for Will and is going to be used against him... Imagine Vecna/Mindflayer into Will's mind again and when they try to bring that memories again (because helped the first time), Vecna just said "No. They are lying" and bring that all up to Will again.

Maybe what the duffers meant when they said that they are changing the birthday was about the meaning of that day, that year and not about the date... I DONT KNOWWWW

[brendaaaa]

You’ll Be N-A-S-A (Will Byers x gender-neutral!Reader)

A/n: Heavily inspired by Ariana Grande’s NASA

You crossed your arms, grouchy and pissed off. You loved Will, sure. Probably more than you loved anyone else. But if he would just give you five minutes...five minutes to yourself, you’d love him a whole lot more.

There was nothing wrong with spending time with your significant other. In fact, that was what made a relationship healthy.

But there was a point where you felt like you needed space. Personal time for yourself. Or maybe a chance to hang out with people other than Will.

You tried to be accommodating. You knew that you were Will’s support anchor, his comfort blanket or whatever, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t live out your own life.

You sighed, glancing at him. He was cuddled up into your side, arms wrapped around your waist. From where you were positioned, you really couldn’t tell if he was asleep or not.

His slow, steady breathing suggested he was snoozing, but then again, He-Man was on TV. It would be extremely out of character for Will to miss that.

Shit. He was so cute all curled up like that. See, this was your recurring issue. You recognized that you and Will needed to set up some boundaries, but whenever you got to the actual talking-about-your-problems, he would do something cute and your whole plan would fall apart.

You gave in to his adorableness for just a minute, brushing his hair out of his face. He looked up at you, smiling. Ah. So he was awake.

You cleared your throat, feeling brave.

“Will?”

“Yes?”

“Uh...can we talk?”

He frowned, and looked back to what was happening on the screen. “After this episode?”

You sighed, grabbing the remote and shutting the TV off.

He scowled at you, “Hey, I was watching that.”

“Sorry,” you rubbed your temples, “I just really need to talk to you.”

“About what?” His eyes locked onto yours, concerned.

“Um..I just think that, I’d rather be alone tonight…” you attempted a feeble smile, trying not to upset him.

His brow furrowed. “So...you won’t stay the night?”

Sleepovers were quite a regular thing between the two of you. Almost every night, in fact. Will slept better with you. That’s partially why you felt so guilty about wanting alone time, if it was at the cost of his sleep.

You shook your head, “It’s not you, I swear to god.”

Will huffed, “Oh lemme guess, then it’s you. Classic, y/n, just classic.”

“No,” you protested. “It’s not either of us. There’s nothing wrong with our relationship!” You bit your tongue after you said that. Way to go, y/n. ‘There’s nothing wrong with our relationship!’ Yeah right.

“Well there is, but...I just, I think I’ll say I love you through the phone tonight?” You said it in a questioning manner, and Will shook his head.

“What did I do?” He pleaded. “Please tell me, I’ll try to change,” he said it so sweetly it made you feel even worse.

“There’s nothing wrong. Not with you, not with me. I just want to be alone.”

His face fell, and he stared rather angrily at the blank tv screen.

“I mean think about,” you said eagerly, trying to find a silver lining for Will to hold onto, “How can i miss you if I’m always with you? Or you know, when I’m missing you, I bet it’ll change the way I kiss you,” You smirked a little, punching him lightly in the arm.

He didn’t respond, just crossed his arms, sulking.

“Will…” you whined. “I’m sorry, I just- I mean, you know what they say...time apart is beneficial!”

He scoffed, “Yeah right. I bet you’re just using all this wanting to be alone stuff as an excuse to dump me.”

Your jaw dropped, “What?? Will- no…”

“Let me finish,” he said sharply. “I know exactly what you’re going to do! You’ll stop hanging out with me, and then, and then,” he gestured wildly with his hands, “when I bring it up, you’ll just say,” he used his fingers to form quotation marks, “we grew apart. Where is this bullshit coming from, y/n?”

You gaped, not believing what you were hearing. This was the exact reason you didn’t want to confront Will about what you were feeling, this is what you had feared would happen.

“Will...just, think of it like this,” you tried one last time, “It’s like I’m the universe and you’ll be NASA,” you said, trying to pull at something he liked, space, to make him understand.

“That doesn’t make sense,” he said crossly.

“Sure it does. NASA visits space, the universe, but it’s not like, permanently out in space. Just like us. We’re still dating, but we don’t spend every second together. We get our own time…”

You gave him a moment. He seemed to be processing this, as he watched you carefully.

He inhaled, and you subconsciously crossed your fingers in preparation of what he was going to say next.

“I call bullshit.” He stood up, and you tried to grab his arm, but he shoved you off of him, storming out of the room and slamming the door behind him.

You dropped your head into your hands, groaning. Why couldn’t Will get over the fact that you were just on another page?

{ 1 week later }

You grinned as you adjusted the lens on your camera. Who knew that you would already have a new hobby a mere week after you started spending time on your own?

Your smile fell off of your face as you replayed the conversation in your head.

You kept telling yourself that you and Will were still together, that you weren’t broken up, but Will hadn’t spoken to you since the fall-out. You were beginning to lose hope that he was ever going to call you, or maybe apologize for how he freaked out.

You put your camera down, letting it hang around your neck. As much as you tried to convince yourself that you were fine, a tear slipped down your cheek.

“Hey, y/n!” A familiar voice called out, and you spun around, face to face with Jonathan Byers.

“Oh, hey!” You waved.

“I didn’t know you were into photography,” he pointed to your camera, a smile playing on his face.

“Oh yeah, I only started recently,” you tucked your hair behind your ear. “I just thought I would take some photos of these,” you gestured to the wildflowers growing off the trail.

“That’s a good idea,” he said encouragingly. “Floral photographers are really making a profit around here,” he told you with a wink, “It’s a good field to get into.”

“Oh,” you laughed, “I don’t- I’m not, uh, it’s just a hobby,” you explained.

“Ah,” he nodded. “Well, me too,” he gestured to his bag, which you noticed was perfectly molded to fit a camera.

“Cool…” you said, rather awkwardly now that it seemed you had nothing left to talk about.

He cleared his throat, “Um, I haven’t seen you around as much recently. Everything okay with you and Will?”

You nodded, putting on a smile. He raised an eyebrow, and you looked away.

“Okay, no,” you admitted. “I don’t know what’s up with him.”

Jonathan frowned. “Anything I should talk to him about?”

“Maybe,” you shrugged one shoulder up. “I just, we were spending sooo much time together, I felt like I never got to be alone.”

Jonathan nodded to show he was listening.

“And then when I tried bringing it up to him, he totally freaked out on me. He thought I was trying to break up or something. And now, he’s basically broken up with me,” you said sadly. “I keep waiting for him to call me, but he doesn’t.”

Jonathan made a face, “I’ll talk to him. I know I should probably be taking his side, since I’m his brother and all, but it’s not fair to you. There’s no contract that says you have to spend all your time with Will. He’s probably just paranoid. He gets nervous about this stuff. I’ll talk to him,” Jonathan said firmly.

“Thanks…” you smiled shyly. “But please don’t make him feel bad. I just want him to understand that I still care about him.”

“Will do,” Jonathan said, patting your shoulder. “Good to see you around, y/n.”

{ The next day }

You were tidying up your bedroom when you heard a knock on your window. You hurried over, and looked out to see Will.

It was strange to see him, after such a long period of no contact.

He looked sad and guilty, rather than the angry facade worn by the boy you had seen storming away from you. He looked ready to talk.

You unlocked it, and allowed him to climb in. Benefits of having a ground floor bedroom. No need for dangerous vine-climbing Romeo and Juliet shit.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly once he was in the room. You shoved your hands into your front pockets, watching him directly. He kept his eyes on the floor.

“Hi,” he said quietly.

“Uh, what’s up?”

He looked up at you for the first time, and you were surprised to see his eyes were glassy and tear-filled.

He rushed into your arms, engulfing you into one of the best hugs you’d ever received.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed into your shoulder, “I’m such an idiot.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” you assured, hugging him back, keeping one hand on the back of his head and another on his lower back.

“No it’s not,” he whispered, pulling out of the hug to let your foreheads meet.

“Y/n, I was so stupid. I understand if you want to break up with me for real.”

You frowned, getting a bit emotional yourself, “No, I-,” your voice cracked a little. “I don’t want that.”

“Did Jonathan talk to you?” You asked carefully.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding and in doing so moving your head up and down with him. “I’m such a loser. I can’t believe I was so blind to see that you just wanted a little time for your own.”

You grinned through the tears that were now escaping your own eyes, “So you get it now? I’ll be the universe and you’ll be-“

“NASA,” he finished for you, and pulled you back into a hug.

You smiled over his shoulder. It felt good to be understood now. If you had known that it would only take a little nudge in the right direction from a sibling, you would have talked to Jonathan ages ago.

If you gave Will your whole world, you would need space. But you really did want to give Will your whole world. Now that he was ready to give you the space you needed, everything was good.

Word Count: 1802

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E4; Chapter Four, The Body - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘠/𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘥𝘥 𝘴𝘺𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

"We keep losing the signal, but you heard it, right?"

The five of us were gathered in Mike's basement once more. Lucas and Dustin had nearly broken down my door earlier this morning in a frantic scramble. They had both began talking really fast but I caught bits and pieces, something about Mike hearing Will. That was enough to get me out of my room, regardless of my health, or whatever the hell is wrong with me.

It took me less than five minutes to get dressed and before I knew it, I was on my bike and in the lead to Mike's. When we got there he quickly ushered us down to the basement and that is how we all ended up sitting by El, listening to her fiddle with the supercomm. The voice I heard was hard to believe but unmistakably Will's.

I knew that a big part of me was hoping so desperately that he was alive that I was willing to believe anything. I know it's not healthy, but I couldn't resist giving into the belief that my best friend is alive.

"Yeah, I heard a baby," Lucas all but sighed.

"What?" Mike asked, seemingly astonished.

"Mike, you obviously tapped into a baby monitor. It's probably the Blackburns' next door." Lucas sighed, wanting to believe that Will was alive.

I could tell he wanted it to be true. But I guess that's where we are different, Lucas is better at sticking to reality and reason. Something I often envied.

"Uh, did that sound like a baby to you? That was Will!" Mike said matter-of-factly.

Lucas rolled his eyes, clearly getting frustrated.

"Mike..."

"Lucas, you don't understand. He spoke last night. Words! He was singing that weird song he loves. Even El heard him!"

My head snapped up. I had been silent throughout this whole endeavor, keeping a safe distance from the circle, still not completely sure if I was sick enough to contaminate anyone. But I spoke up.

"Should I Stay or Should I Go? By the Clash?" My voice was slightly urgent.

"Yes! At least I think it's by th– you know what? It doesn't matter. The point is," he looked around the room to party one by one, his eyes landed on me last with a knowing look. "I think there is a good chance Will is alive."

I gave a small smile at Mike, communicating my gratitude silently.

"Well if El heard him–" Lucas began, annoyed.

"Are you sure you're on the right channel?" Dustin cut in.

"I don't think it's about that. I think, somehow, she's channeling him."

"Like... like Professor X."

"Yeah."

Lucas looked to me, then the boys. "Are you actually believing this crap?"

"I don't know, I mean..." Dustin sighed. "Do you remember when Will fell off his bike and broke his finger? He sounded a lot like that."

Lucas gave us an incredulous look. "Did you guys not see what I saw? They pulled Will's body out of the water. He's dead!" Lucas screamed, his eyes landed on me long enough for him to see the pain in my eyes.

A lump in my throat grew large, and my palms became warm again. My eyes stung as I blinked away the tears, never breaking eye contact with Lucas. I stood up abruptly and excused myself in a hoarse whisper.

"Y/n..." Lucas sighed after me, only to be met with the bathroom door swinging shut.

My palms gripped the counter as I tried catching my breath. The salty tears escaped my eyes and I looked into the mirror to see what a mess I was. I really didn't want to have another anxiety attack. Not now. It's the last thing I need.

I wiped my eyes and blew my nose in some toilet paper. I grabbed an extra washcloth and set it aside. I turned on the faucet and waited for the temperature to cool down. I could hear the muffled voices of the boys, and then some scattered shuffling. When I was finally satisfied with the cool temperature of the water I ran the washcloth under the sink, soaking it in cold water.

I rung out the damp cloth over the sink before bringing it to my cheeks. The cool soft cloth felt refreshing on my heated face, and I put pressure over my eyes to bring down the swelling. It seemed to do the trick. I took an extra moment to steady my breathing, and I brought my hand up to rub my neck, sighing. However, I recoiled my hand when my neck was met with a harsh sting of heat. I looked at my hands, confused.

'The water couldn't have been that hot, could it? But, that...'

Too many questions arose from that simple theory, so I quickly dismissed it. Knowing that the longer I stay, the more worried the boys will become. And all I want is to know what the hell is going on. I open the door and rejoin my friends.

However, I don't see El or Mike.

Just Dustin and Lucas digging out some old boxes. Dustin noticed the look of confusion on my face and fills me in.

"We think if we get El to a stronger radio, like the Heathkit at school, she will be able to get a stronger connection to Will. We just need to find her a disguise. Mike is upstairs helping her out on makeup."

I nod, joining the boys and begin digging through another box, rifling through the many abandoned clothes and costumes.

"Y/n? I'm sorry, I just–" Lucas speaks up softly.

"It's fine," I mumble, not bothering to look up from the box.

I know he is sorry, but I also know that if I dwell on it any longer I will only grow more upset. I hear him sigh, and return to the box. An old pink dress I can only assume once belonged to Nancy had caught my eye. I pulled it out of the box and showed it to the guys.

Lucas gave a firm nod, and Dustin proudly showed off a blonde wig he had found. I lead the way upstairs and handed El the dress and wig which I had taken from Dustin. I gave her a small smile, indicating that I was okay and not mad at her.

She seemed more comfortable with the idea of changing alone but insisted I help with the wig, she seemed very confused as to what it was. The boys were busy talking, but I was the only one who noticed her peaking her head from behind the door.

I slipped inside and closed the door behind me. She looked nervous but I didn't blame her. I smiled.

"You look great. And you'll do fine, I promise. Mike and I have got your back, and so does Dustin and Lucas, as much as they might deny it."

These words of comfort seem to earn a grateful smile from her. I return the gesture and grab the wig off of the bed.

"Alright, this may be different from what you're used to but it grows on you. Longer hair, I mean." I chuckle to myself at my unintended pun, knowing she probably wouldn't get it.

Embarrassed, I shake a way the comment and I adjust the wig on her, helping her to straighten out some loose hairs.

"And you are done. Are you ready?"

El looked to me, a thoughtful expression on her face before nodding. I open the door and step out to see the boys all turn in unison.

They look to me before I silently step aside to reveal El in her disguise. She held herself in a different way, I could tell. It wasn't bad but she didn't seem to know either. It was new. And Mike. Well, Mike couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Then again, what else is new? I smiled as I watched the scene unfold.

"Wow. She looks–" Dustin perked up.

"Pretty." Mike finished, his jaw practically on the floor.

El smiled at him shyly, a small blush dusted her cheeks. Mike seemed to realize what he had said and tried to play it off.

"Good. You look pretty good."

I rolled my eyes at his behavior and watched as El walked over to the mirror, Mike following. She seemed entranced at what she saw in the reflection. I can only imagine what it must be like for her.

She looked longingly into the mirror before wistfully whispering.

"Pretty." There was a pause, and her face seemed to fall a bit. "Good."

I pressed my lips into a firm line at the sight.

I just hope this works.

[sisterspooky1013]

Only One Choice, Part 2, Chapter 15

Read it here on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Missy gives her a skeptical glance as Mulder knocks on the door for an eternity in a strange pattern. She shrugs, then startles when a cacophony of loud pops and clicks erupts from the other side of the door before it swings open to reveal a short man with a receding hairline and bushy sideburns.

“Mulder, ladies, please come in!” he greets warmly, stepping to the side.

Mulder touches his hand to Scully’s lower back, ushering her inside and waiting as Missy follows before he enters last. The short man holds out his hand to Missy and when she takes it, he brings her hand to his lips and kisses the tops of her fingers.

“Enchante, you must be Melissa,” he says suavely, and Missy gives her sister an amused smile. “Melvin Frohike, pleased to meet you,” he finishes, and Missy giggles.

“And you must be the enigmatic Dana Scully,” he says, turning to Scully and offering his hand.

She takes it, but tugs hers away at the first indication that he intends to do more than shake it. Frohike turns to Mulder with raised eyebrows and a knowing smirk.

“She’s hot,” he says matter-of-factly, and Scully looks at Mulder with big eyes, unsure whether he’ll find his friend’s flattery offensive.

“Yes, I’ve noticed. Put a damper on the Don Juan act would ya, Frohike? You’re going to scare them away.”

Frohike presses his hand to his chest in mock sincerity. “I aim only to properly welcome these beautiful women to our home, Mulder,” he defends, then holds up his hands in surrender. “Back to the kitchen I go,” he finishes, leaving the room.

A slender man with long blonde hair and glasses passes through, pausing when he realizes they have company.

“Mulder, hey man. I forgot you were coming by.”

He looks at Missy and Scully but doesn’t say anything.

“Langly, this is Dana, and her sister Melissa,” Mulder offers, and Langly waves, looking back and forth between them.

“So which one’s yours?” he asks, and Mulder mutters something under his breath.

“That would be me,” Scully answers, holding her hand up at her side. For the first time that she can recall, being referred to as belonging to a man doesn’t bother her.

“Cool,” he says, then turns away and sits down behind a computer.

Scully and Missy both look at Mulder expectantly, asking hundreds of questions with their eyes that they are too polite to speak aloud.

“I know, I know,” he says regretfully. “I told you, they grow on you.”

“Mulder, hello,” calls a new voice, and Scully turns to see a tall man in a suit with neatly coiffed brown hair and a matching goatee.

“Hello, ladies, I’m John Fitzgerald Byers,” he says, holding out his hand shaking each of theirs in turn. “I apologize for my friends’ behavior, they don’t get out much. Please, come in, make yourselves at home.”

As Byers leads them to the living room, Scully takes stock of what Mulder had referred to as their “lair.” There’s one large room that is sectioned off into a living area and a tech lab, the latter hosting several computers as well as hundreds of computer parts and boxes upon boxes with wires sticking out of them. There’s a kitchen just off the living room, and beyond that a long hallway that must lead to bedrooms. They sit down on a well-worn orange couch, Scully in the middle, while Byers takes an armchair next to the end of the couch where Missy is seated.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Byers asks, his eyes lingering on Missy for a beat.

“It’s margarita night!” Frohike calls from the kitchen, and Byers smiles meekly.

“We also have beer, or wine, if you don’t care for margaritas,” he offers demurely.

“I love margaritas,” Missy answers with a shrug, “so does Dana, right Sis?” she continues, giving Scully a little jab with her elbow, and Scully smiles and nods.

“Sure, margaritas sound great,” she says, and Byers looks visibly relieved.

“Please excuse me, I’ll be right back,” he says, standing with a slight bow.

After he has disappeared into the kitchen, Missy looks over at Scully and widens her eyes momentarily, then juts out her chin.

“Really?” Scully says with some measure of surprise, and Missy nods enthusiastically.

Mulder chuckles, and Scully looks at him with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?” she asks accusingly.

“You two have some kind of secret language. You sure you aren’t twins?”

“I remember when Dana was born,” Missy says, “it was awful. We are definitely NOT twins.”

“Missy, you were two when I was born, there’s no way you remember that,” Scully says doubtfully, and Missy rolls her eyes.

“Believe what you will, Sis, but I distinctly recall you crying for hours and Bill Jr. peeing his pants in protest,” she says confidently.

“That does sound like Bill,” Scully concedes, and they both laugh.

“Why do I get the impression that Bill isn’t the favorite sibling?” Mulder asks, and Scully rests her hand on his knee.

“Just be glad he doesn’t live close enough to attend Sunday brunch tomorrow,” she says with a squeeze, “if you’re lucky, you won’t have to meet him for years.”

Mulder smirks at her with soft, affectionate eyes. “Years, huh?” he asks, and Scully smiles as heat rises to her cheeks, realizing what she’d implied.

“Here we are,” Byers says as he re-enters the room carrying a tray with four glasses on it. He sets the tray on the coffee table and passes a glass to each of the sisters and then to Mulder before he takes one himself and sits down.

“What should we drink to?” Missy asks, holding her glass up.

“How about, to new friends,” Byers offers, giving her a small smile.

“To new friends,” Missy repeats, and they clink their glasses together.

———

“A WHAT tail?” Missy asks, her tongue thick with tequila and her eyes glassy.

“A ves- vesigible? Vestibule tail?” Mulder attempts, closing one eye in concentration.

“Vestigial tail,” Scully corrects them, retaining her medical terminology even under the influence of four very strong margaritas.

“Yes, that was it,” Byers says, pointing at her triumphantly.

Frohike drank too much and retired to his bedroom an hour ago, while Langly is still stationed behind his computer, headphones on and seemingly immersed in some kind of first person shooter game. Byers has shed his suit jacket and cuffed his sleeves, his tie loosened around his neck. He long ago joined them on the orange couch where they are now stuffed like sardines, the sisters sandwiched in the middle with a man on each side.

“Caudal appendages are a normal part of fetal development,” Scully says, her head leaning against Mulder’s arm and their hands entwined in his lap. “The coccyx enlarges to contain the spinal fluid and then it shrinks as the child develops. Occasionally it doesn’t. It’s extremely rare, but it’s been known to happen.”

“But that’s not the point,” Mulder retorts, sticking his nose into her hair. “The tail was just how they made the connection, the freaky deaky part is that this guy could change his appearance to look like the women’s husbands so they’d have sex with him.”

“That’s disgusting,” Missy says with a frown, and Byers puts his hand on her upper back, rubbing comfortingly. She looks at him and smiles sweetly.

“I don’t buy that at all,” Scully says, shaking her head clumsily.

“The shapeshifting?” Mulder asks, assuming the answer.

“Well that too, but even just the idea that they didn’t know it wasn’t their husband. They would have known,” she says plainly, it being an obvious fact to her.

“He was physically identical to their husbands, there was no way to tell the difference,” Byers explains, looking at the side of Missy’s face while he talks.

“Well maybe he looked like them, but partnered sex is very routine based,” Scully continues, “if you’re with the same person for a long time, you develop somewhat of a cadence, an order of things, that there’s no way he could have replicated. So even if he was physically identical to the husbands, he would have kissed differently, touched them differently. They would have noticed the difference.”

Mulder sits back against the arm rest so he can see her face more clearly.

“So you’re telling me that if a man who looked exactly like me in every way, physically identical, tried to seduce you, you’d know it wasn’t me?”

Scully gives him an irritated look. “Yes.”

“How?” he asks incredulously.

“Because no one else kisses like you do,” she says at a lower register, hoping Missy and Byers aren’t listening.

Mulder looks past her to the other end of the couch and his eyebrows lift in surprise, his mouth curling into an amused smile. Scully turns to see what he’s smiling at and finds that Missy and Byers most definitely were not listening, because they currently have their tongues halfway down each other’s throats. Scully turns back to Mulder with an open-mouthed smile.

“Oh my god,” she gushes, leaning her forehead against his chest.

He wraps his arms around her back and gives her a squeeze.

“I was just about to say we should get outta here,” Mulder whispers against her ear, “but I’d hate to interrupt them. I think this is the most action Byers has gotten in years.”

She stifles her laugh in his T-shirt, then sits up to look at him.

“Is he a good guy?” she questions in a bit of sisterly concern.

“Oh, yes, the best,” Mulder says emphatically. “If it were either of the other two stooges down there I’d pry Missy off of him and transport her to safety, but Byers is good people.”

Scully nods in approval, sneaking another glance towards the lovebirds as Missy’s foot starts to press against her thigh; they seem to be orienting more horizontally by the second. She glances over at Langly, but he’s oblivious.

“Do you think it’s okay if we leave her here?” Mulder asks cautiously, unsure if it’s an obscene suggestion.

Scully looks at her sister again. “Missy, we’re leaving,” she says loudly, and Missy holds up her arm, flicking her wrist in a “go” motion. Scully turns back to Mulder. “She’s fine.”

Mulder lives closer to the Gunmen so they direct the cab driver there, quietly kissing in the backseat on the ten minute drive. She is pleasantly drunk, just this side of sloppy, and feeling particularly amorous after such a fun evening. Mulder stumbles through his front door ahead of her, swearing as he stubs his toe on the table. He feeds Priscilla as Scully removes her shoes and jacket, making her way to the couch. As soon as he sits down beside her, he leans over and presses his boozy lips against hers, the kiss firm and insistent and...weird.

“Mulder,” she says as he continues to plant strange kisses on her mouth, “what are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” he asks, moving his pecking down her neck.

“You’re kissing me weird,” she says flatly, and he lifts his head to give her a shocked look.

“Motherfucker,” he says in a disappointed tone, and she shoves his shoulder.

“I told you I would know, jerk,” she says playfully, and he laughs.

“I guess you would,” he says, starting to kiss her more properly.

“Shall we take this to the bedroom?” she suggests, and he stands, holding his hand out to her.

She leads him into the bedroom, and as she approaches the bed he grabs her roughly from behind, clutching her to him. She gasps at the sudden contact, but it also excites her.

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

She nods her head tersely, wanting to see where he’s going to take it.

He growls and sticks his hand down the front of her still-buttoned jeans, forcing his fingers under her panties until he meets with her vulva. Keeping his fingers still, he slips his other hand under her shirt, shoving it under the underwire on her bra and grasping her breast roughly. Her heart is racing but she doesn’t move.

“Unbutton your pants,” he says levelly, and the authoritative tone in his voice sends a little rush between her thighs. She does as he said, unbuttoning her jeans and pushing them off her hips while his hand is still tucked against her.

With more room to move, he slips his hand down further and drags his fingers lazily over her lips. She can feel herself growing wet, her clit aching to be touched. He suddenly removes both hands, grabbing the hem of her shirt and tugging it over her head before she’s even had time to lift her arms, her bra soon following it to the floor. He steps forward, pushing her along with him, and then touches her upper back.

“Bend over,” he says, and she does, her torso resting on the mattress while her legs dangle over the side.

She feels him tug her jeans off her legs, and then her panties, leaving her nude. She waits, her heart pounding in her ears nearly blocking out the jangle of his belt buckle and the slide of his zipper. She feels his naked skin press against hers, his erection stiff and hot against her lower back. He leans forward to put his mouth to her ear.

“Still okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” she says breathily.

She hears the crinkle of the condom wrapper and wriggles her hips in anticipation, nearly moaning when his hands touch her bare hips, tugging her towards him. She feels the slick press of his latex-covered cock against her entrance and bucks back towards him, earning a little chuckle. He pushes into her, each groaning with relief, and wastes no time finding a hard and fast pace, the slap of skin deafening in the quiet apartment. He changes his angle, and she feels his hand snake around her hip, his touch rough and firm and perfectly paired with the strike of his head against her cervix on each upstroke. It hurts just a little bit, but in the best kind of way, and she cries out when he finds just the right combination, begging him not to stop.

A stream of obscenities, foul and offensive remarks about how she feels and looks, what he’s doing to her, pour from his lips and she is concurrently shocked and delighted, finding herself at the crest as he asks her how much she likes it, and calls her some questionable names. She comes hard and suddenly, the obscenities stopping as he explodes inside of her, falling partially on top of her as he loses the strength to stand.

After he’s extricated himself from the bed and disposed of the condom, he pulls her on top of him and peppers her with tender little kisses and gentle strokes of his hands over her naked body, telling her how beautiful and perfect she is, bringing them back to equilibrium. She props her chin on his chest and looks up at him with a wry smile.

“What did you call me?” she asks, and he does a silly cartoonish cringe.

“I’m not totally sure, to be honest. Did I say something bad?” he asks with genuine concern.

“I’m not totally sure, to be honest,” she replies, “I was otherwise engaged.” She smiles at him so he knows she’s not mad. She looks over at the clock beside his bed. “We better go to sleep,” she says, her eyes already drooping. “We have to be at my mother’s at ten tomorrow.”

———

“So, what did you all do last night?” Maggie asks around the lunch table, and Dana chokes on her water while Missy clears her throat.

“I introduced Dana to some of my friends,” Mulder answers jovially, on his best ‘meet the parents’ behavior.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Maggie answers warmly. “Are you from the area, Fox?”

“It’s Mulder, Mom,” Dana corrects her, and he waves his hand dismissively.

“It’s okay, moms get a free pass,” he says, smiling at Maggie. “I grew up on Martha’s Vineyard.”

“Ooooo, fancy schmancy,” Charlie remarks with raised eyebrows, and Dana glares at him.

“Do you have any siblings?” Maggie continues.

This is a line of questioning he’s had to navigate since he was twelve, but for Dana it’s a first. She tightens her grip on his hand under the table.

“It’s okay,” he whispers to her before turning back to Maggie. “I had a younger sister, but she died when I was twelve.”

Scully understands that this is probably his stock answer, not wanting to get into the true story with each person he crosses paths with, and feels retroactively touched that he was honest with her from the start.

Maggie’s hand goes to her chest as though reaching for a rosary, her face a mask of pain. “Oh, Fox, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Scully, it was a long time ago.”

Sensing the need for a subject change, Charlie turns to his oldest sister. “What’s up with you, Missy? You’re looking a little rough today.”

She gives him a derisive smile. “Thanks, little brother, love you too. I just didn’t get much sleep, I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” Charlie says knowingly, and Missy kicks him under the table.

After the dishes have been cleared, Maggie is pulling the trash bag out of the can when Mulder interjects. “Let me take that out for you, Mrs. Scully.”

She watches him with a soft smile as he goes out the back door, then turns to look at her youngest daughter, who is also watching after him with an affectionate expression.

“Dana,” she calls, and when she has her daughter’s attention, she gives her a beaming smile. They don’t need to say more than that; Dana smiles back with a little nod, and they both understand that she’s found something worth moving on to.