#he see’s mike as the heart and the reflection just so happens to be a heart too?

[sade-alicious]

heart imagery is gonna kill me one day i think

[petew21-blog]

An apple a day...

21st January 2021

Dr. Mikhail Varshavski, or how many people know him - Doctor Mike, is a famous succesful physician and an influencer making money out of his YouTube videos etc. Still taking a bit of his time to examine patients between his videos and interviews.

But today an elderly patient was suppse to come for a visit. Mikhail decided to make it a tv spot where the satisfied patient would come to the hospital and thanked him for treating him.

The patient's name was Arnold Jefferson, a 71 year old man suffering many conditions, such as diabetes, arthritis, hypertension and many many more. Quite common in older people.

Mr. Jefferson arrived an unaware of the upcoming spotilight was greeted by am assistant and led to a room with cameras.

Mr. Jefferson:"I was supposed to come for a vistit with Dr. Varshavski."

Assistant:"Doctor Mike wants to speak to you in front of the camera if that's ok? I am sure you have already signed multiple forms considering your privacy, while in his care. So we won't keep you long and I will go get doctor Mike."

Mr. Jefferson looked around confused. He came for a one on one dialogue, not an interview. He had no interest in all of this.

Docotr Mike arrived to the room. His hair ready, wearing his best scrubs that were ironed that day.

Mikhail:"Good morning, Mr. Jefferson. How are we feeling today?"

Mr. Jefferson:"Good morning. I.. well just as I normally do." he spoke nervously, looking at the cameras and the crew.

Mikhail spoke loudly for the microphone above them to hear and smiled way more than usual. "Amazing. We will do a standard check up and then we will take a look at your blood tests together. Is that ok?"

Mr. Jefferson nodded and was then examined in front of the camera. But they also did many photos where they were wearing masks and touched each other with elbows just to prove how safe they were while handling the ongoing pandemic.

He felt uncomfortable. "Could I please be examined alone for the part where I get to undress?"

The smile from doctor Mike's face disappeared. "Sure. Yeah. Can all of you from the crew go and take 5? Thank you. We will finish with Mr. Jefferson quickly.

The crew left and Dr. Mike was left alone with the patient.

Mr. Jefferson:"You complicated things for me, you know? I would have done this much sooner."

Doctor Mike had his stethoscope in his ears listening to Mr. Jefferson's heart. "What do you mean by that?" he said confused by what the patient said.

Mr. Jefferson placed his hands on Dr. Mike's head. "This". Flashes of lights shined between the two of them. Mikhail wanted to run away, but the force from Mr. Jefferson's hands was so strong. He couldn't let go.

Mikhail's eyes closed by themselves. He didn't see anything.

The first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was his reflection. Nothing unusual. He saw his face everyday in the mirror. But he felt anxious as soon as his body started moving on his own and flexed.

His body spoke out loud:"Oh my. It feels great to be this young again. It seems you take a great care for your body, Mikhail. Or I should say Arnold now."

Mikhail was in disbelief. What was happening? Is this all real?. "What did you do to me?"

Arnold:"I didn't hear that question for a very long time now. It will be easier to show you." he handed him the mirror. In the reflection was the same old man that he trested seconds ago. He touched his face and the reflection did the same.

Mikhail:"How are you doing this?"

Arnold:"Couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. I am honestly not sure."

Mikhail:"Why me? I am a doctor. I am not someone you should steal life away from."

Arnold:"You almost answered your question. If I don't have the right to do that then why should you? Remember my wife you treated? How you misdiagnosed her?"

Mikhail:"This is medicine. Mistakes can happen. It's not an exact science. Sometimes we don't have the power to save everyone."

Arnold:"Maybe. But my wife was special, like me, you know. We did the same thing I just did for you for almost a century. But we fell in love with the life that these bodies had. The love they had for each other, the family. We even had a new young couple found to move over to, but you just had to fuck it up. So... let my face be a constant reminder of what you messed up."

Mikhail:"You can't do this. No one will believe you. Everyone will find out. I will tell them."

Arnold:"Yeah, not really my concern. Whenever one of you does this, they end up in a mental hospital. So I guess it's up to you now, if you want to finish the shooting quietly or get a quick ticket for mental hospital for the short rest of your life you have left. So what's it gonna be?"

They finished the spot and Mikhail in Arnold's body was escorted out of the hospital. He was old now. His body ached. Every step he took was like a needle. He was picked up by one of his family members. He had no idea who it was. His son? Grandson? Maybe they'll know more about the swapping. Maybe the clues will be inside the house. Or maybe none at all.

18th February 2021

Mikhail sat in his new arm chair and held a mug in his hands. It has been almost a month since he lost his body.

One of his grandsons played with a tablet next to him.

Mikhail:"What are you doing there, Joe?"

Joe:"You wouldn't understand, grandpa."

Mikhail:"Maybe I would. How about you show me?"

Joe gave him initial instructions he would normally give Arnold, but Mikhail already knew all of this and confidently asked for him to put up YouTube.

Joe was surprised that his grandpa now knew all this, but he did what grandpa asked him to do.

They found Doctor Mike's channel. There was only one new video from the last time that Mikhail has posted anything.

The video had a bad quality. The one who edited the video was definitely an amateur.

The name of the video was: Why I decided to quit medicine

Mikhail froze. His life was all about being in the medical field. And now Arnold ruined it all.

He played the video. Arnold seemed very happy with his new body, because he kept touching his arms, his pecs and hair even while talking about how unsatisfied he became while working as a doctor.

Mikhail took the tablet and searched for more information about his old body. He found information about a lawsuit for malpractice, that the new doctor Mike how faced.

But something kuch worse caught his attention. An Only Fans account.

Mikhail left the room with the tablet and his grandson screaming behind him. But he didn't care about that now. He opened the page and immediately subscribed while entering his credit card info.

The page unlocked.

Mikhail had tears in his eyes. There were videos of his old body pleasuring himself, embarassing himself, pleasuring others...

All of that for a bit of money from horny peopl, that wanted to see the famous doctor.

Mikhail decided to send a message that cost extra money.

He sat there for a while and thought about what it would say.

"Dear, doctor Mike. Or maybe you still remember your old name, Arnold. I wanted to say something mean about you ruining my life. But after watching the videos, I have to say I miss my body. Even though I would want it back I don't expect you'd give it like that for free. But maybe you could let me enjoy that body once again from someone else's view? What do you think? It might get a lot of views.

Sincerley,

Dr. Mike Arnold Jefferson"

On the other side of the screen sat Arnold in front of the computer, his dick hard. Reading the message from his old body.

"This might be interesting" he said, grinning mischievously.

Two woman called out behind him from the bed:"Coming to bed, honey?"

Arnold smiled and turned around. "Ready for round three?"

Anonymous request from inbox

Could you please write a body swap story where an elderly patient steals Dr. Mike’s body when he is seen by him for a visit?

[str4ngergirlw0rld]

Eddie’s sobbing is a muffled, haunting sound in your ears. You swear you can feel your heart pounding out of your chest. The weight of feeling invisible, hurt, and utterly worthless presses down on you. The urge to reach out to him, to comfort him as you’ve always done, is overwhelming, but you’re powerless to act.

“Fuck, it’s all my fault, fuck!” Eddie’s cries are raw, filled with guilt and desperation. You thought you understood why he was crying, but now the confusion and fear make you question everything. “Eddie, what’s wrong?” you ask timidly, your voice trembling, afraid he might lash out at you again. His head snaps in your direction, eyes wide with panic.

“I—I put you in this position, baby! You’re fucking dying because of me!” Eddie’s voice is frantic, his tears mingling with snot streaming down his face. “I can’t—I can’t stop the bleeding. What the fuck, baby, I’m sorry! I’m trying, I’m trying so hard, just hold on for me, please!” He’s pleading, his sobs wracking his body as he reaches for the radio on his hip, hoping Wayne will know what to do. As he speaks, he sees the bright red blood staining his hands, realizing it's yours.

You can only assume it’s your blood causing his panic, but you need him to know it’s not his fault. “Eddie, baby, stop. It’s not your fault. I swear, it’s not your fault—”

“No?!” Eddie interrupts, his voice cracking. “Then how did this happen, huh? How did you end up like this? Was it some mysterious god I don’t even believe in? Shit, baby, yes, it’s my fault. I’m sorry.” He clutches the radio, his hands shaking violently as he cries out for Wayne. The radio crackles before Wayne’s calming voice comes through.

“Wayne, please, please help me. Y/N is bleeding out, I don’t know what to do, Wayne, please,” Eddie sobs, his voice breaking. You can no longer speak, too weak to form coherent sentences. Your vision blurs, the darkness encroaching upon you. You can feel the coldness wrapping around you like a heavy, suffocating blanket. In the distance, Wayne’s voice tries to soothe Eddie.

“Eddie, put pressure on her wounds. Eddie, Eddie, calm down.” Wayne’s voice grows stern and darker. “Eddie, this is your fault.”

Eddie’s eyes drop to you, seeing your lifeless form, your eyes shut and mouth slightly open. The realization hits him hard: you’re dead, and it’s because of him. The sky outside reflects his turmoil—red and angry with lightning flashing ominously. He kneels, holding you close, desperately praying this isn’t real, questioning why he pursued the bats instead of staying with you and Dustin. It’s his fault you’re gone.

Your dream of Steve and Robin dancing in Scoops Ahoy outfits is shattered by a loud whine from across the room. You sit up, squinting in the dim light from the TV, now showing static. As you look around, you see Max and Lucas on the lazy boy, Max’s glasses slipping off her nose and Lucas’s arm draped loosely around her waist. On the sectional couch, El and Mike are sleeping, El’s mouth slightly open and Mike snoring close to her face. Dustin and Will are sprawled on the floor, covered in thick comforters. Nancy and Jonathan are in the guest room upstairs, and Robin is sharing a bed with Steve.

Eddie is curled up in a ball on the pull-out bed, his blanket strewn on the floor. His bangs are matted to his forehead, and his body shakes violently. You quietly get up from the air mattress Steve gave you, careful not to wake anyone else, and tiptoe to Eddie.

“Eddie, Eddie, wake up,” you whisper, shaking his shoulder gently. “Eddie, Eds, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.” Your voice is soothing, trying to offer comfort without startling him. “What’s wrong with him?” a voice asks suddenly, making you jump. You turn to see El, her hair messy, looking concerned.

“He’s having a nightmare, babe. I was just trying to wake him up,” you explain. “Oh,” El replies. You give Eddie another gentle shake, and his eyes snap open. He looks at you and El with a startled expression and immediately curls up tighter, burying his head in his knees. You and El move in sync, wrapping your arms around him to offer comfort. El’s arms encircle him, while you gently cradle his face and shoulders, trying to lift his gaze.

Eddie finally looks up at you, his eyes bloodshot and red, his face streaked with tears. Your heart aches at the sight of your best friend in such distress. “Eddie, it’s okay. It was just a nightmare,” El says softly. Eddie nods, thanking her and placing a kiss on her forehead, telling her to go back to sleep. She hesitates but leaves when you give her a reassuring look.

“Eddie, let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, leading him to the bathroom. He follows silently, his pinky linked with yours, his tall frame towering over you. You gesture for him to sit on the toilet.

“I didn’t know you were having nightmares, Eddie. Why didn’t you tell me?” you ask, washing your hands in the sink. “I didn’t want to worry you,” he replies, his voice hoarse.

“Worry me? Eddie, you worried me when you almost died a few months ago. You worry me when you close off. I just want to take care of you. You’re my best friend. I wish it had been me instead of you. It should have been m—”

“Don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence, Y/N. Don’t. It’s not your fault; it’s mine. I’m responsible for keeping myself safe, not you,” Eddie’s voice cracks.

“Yeah? Then why are you pushing me away? You’re sure acting like it’s my fault.” Tears well up in your eyes, your voice choked with emotion. “Listen, angel, sit.” Eddie guides you to sit on the edge of the bathtub, taking both your hands in his. He brings them to his mouth, holding them close as he speaks through sobs. “I never told you because the dreams are too painful. It’s not your fault. I keep dreaming of you dying in my arms. It’s unbearable to see your face, not when all I see is your soul leaving your eyes.”

“Eddie, you could have told me. I’ve always been here. I’ve been here, I’ve been right here, Eddie. I thought—I thought I lost you. I thought you hated me. I couldn’t handle that, not when I love you more than anything. I’m so in love with you, and you put me through so much pain, baby. I just needed you to talk to me,” you say, your head hanging low, tears streaming down your face. The pain of his distance and silence becomes clearer to you, and you finally understand why he was so distant and why he left you in the dark.

Eddie lifts your chin to meet his gaze, his eyes reflecting your own anguish. “Fuck, I love you too, baby. I love you so much. Why do you think this was so hard for me, huh? I thought I kept losing the love of my life. Baby, I couldn’t handle that.” He presses his forehead to yours, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, baby,” he murmurs, his voice filled with regret.

“Look at me, baby,” Eddie pleads. You lift your gaze to his eyes and then down to his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks softly.

“Yes,” you reply. His mouth finds yours in a fervent kiss, his tongue sliding past your lips to meet yours in a grateful and passionate embrace. After what feels like hours, you finally pull away, both of you breathless and teary.

“I love you, baby,” Eddie says, his voice tender and filled with relief.

“I love you too, Eds,” you respond, your heart aching but full.

After cleaning his face and him cleaning yours, you walk hand in hand back to Steve’s living room. Eddie heads towards the pull-out bed, while you make your way back to your air mattress.

“Eddie,” you call softly.

“Yeah, baby?” he replies.

“Come lay with me.”

“Ugh, thank fuck. I don’t think I could sleep without you, even if I wanted to,” he says with a sigh of relief.

He immediately bounces onto the air mattress and buries his face in your chest. Your fingers find their way into his curls as he kisses your stomach and rests his hands gently on your sides.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you,” he murmurs, his warm breath caressing your belly.

“Goodnight, angel. I love you too,” you respond softly.

That time , Eddie falls into a dreamless sleep, comforted by your presence and the reassurance of your shared love. not caring what looms the corner of his mind. you love him with his scars with his imperfections. thats all eddie cares about.

[oozedninjas]

Heyyyy I was wondering if you could do how the boys realize they're in love with you and how they react to said realization? Maybe even how long they'd take to confess??

Sorry if that's too much in one go or if you've already done it, ily and I love your writing <3

These are technically two requests so I'll just stick to "How they realize they're in love" if that's okay :)

MDNI / Turtle guys are mid to late twenties

BAYVERSE GUYS REALIZING THEY'RE IN LOVE

---

Leonardo:

Once he notices, Leo would carefully consider the implications that come with romantic emotions and reflect upon whether or not he's willing to go through what it entails to give himself to someone.

He would make sure this isn't just a fleeting thing before making any decisions on acting upon those feelings. Once he does, he'll drop little hints that surpass obviousness.

Don't get me wrong, it isn't that he is not brave enough to make the moves; it's just that he assumes that what he has to offer is little and prefers to give you all the signs. This way, if you want a relationship with him, you have the necessary tools to let him see that you do want to be courted.

Donatello:

Donnie's sharp enough to recognize what he's feeling the moment he discerns those exquisite tingles in his chest as something beyond just excitement. Yet, like the reserved creature that he is, digesting such emotions and coming to terms with them is… another thing entirely.

I think he would tough it out for the most part. Often bombarded by intrusive thoughts of a negative reaction on your side if you were to find out. His mind plays tricks on him, making him daydream about delightful dates with you, followed by the voice of mockery asserting that could never come to happen.

He has to be realistic. It isn't logical that someone as beautiful and brilliant as you are would risk being with a non-human creature who's not even biologically compatible with you. No, he's better off as your friend.

Raphael:

He knows what he feels for you; however, he refuses to accept it in his heart (or in front of anyone else, for that matter) because it would be too painful not to be reciprocated. Nevertheless, as his feelings for you grow, so do the desires to protect you and keep you safe and secure. This makes it difficult for him to conceal his true feelings to a sharp, tenacious eye as your own.

If he comes to confess his feelings, Raphael would strive to balance his rough exterior with moments of tenderness, as he recognizes the importance of displaying his softer side to achieve more deepening emotional connections.

Mikey

Mikey's excitement and eagerness to be around you would give him away in the blink of an eye. It's cute because he holds this "We should totally date! Haha, joking, joking... UNLESS!" attitude all the time.

I think he would express his feelings in a joyful, creative form. You can expect an outpouring of artistic expressions: drawings, poems, or spontaneous acts of affection.

I think Mike's the one with a higher rate of emotional intelligence; many lessons he's learned across his journey, and in his adult years, it's easier for him to establish his limits and boundaries. With this in mind, I think he would ponder if it's worth potentially ruining his friendship with you. If the answer is yes, he goes with everything he's got.

[strangerthingssteddiebrainrot]

A little ficlet I was just inspired to write at 1am lol

Listen

Despite dating a rockstar, Steve was a pretty private person. Whenever he went with Eddie and the boys on tour, he'd wear sunglasses regardless of the actual weather conditions. Sometimes even a hat if he was really done with nosy reporters trying to figure out what his connection to Corroded Coffins lead singer was.

But it's been a long time since '89 when the band first took off and in the glorious year of 1999 they were finally outed by a reporter disguised as a waiter at the restaurant they were eating at and got a picture of them kissing if the corner of the private booth they were hiding in. Sales and the band's popularity took a hit sure, but so many new fans, freaks and outcasts and people just like them filled the void that they actually bounced back with more popularity than ever before. So Eddie and Steve agreed to do an interview on a daytime talk show, set the record straight and talk about themselves and their relationship openly for the first time. They talked about how high school cliques nearly kept them apart, but the spring break of '86, for all its tragedy and death and near death, brought them together and they worked hard to stay together. A true love story if there ever was one. It was freeing actually, finally being able to be open and Out, and if their love helped people, that was just a bonus.

Which is how no one, not even Eddie or the band knew about Steve's voice. He'd never been a singer, too insecure and beaten down to trust that he was actually good at something besides swinging a bat (and an ax, and Molotov cocktails). It was something he was working on, but change doesn't happen overnight and even now, in his early thirties, he still had never revealed his hidden talent to anyone other than Robin. And like, it's not like she ever said anything either! They sang sometimes back when they lived in each other's back pocket and she never said he was good, so he just assumed he was not terrible! Maybe the fact that she had a crush on Tammy Thompson and her 'muppet giving birth' singing should have been a clue. Steve just thought love made you blind.

So when, during the encore performance of Corroded Coffins latest show, Eddie gestures to him to come on stage, Steve tried to refuse at first. He waved him off laughing, but Eddie was persistent and the crowd caught on, chanting his name to come onstage. So he gave in, and god did he stick out like a sore thumb, light washed Levi's with a navy Henley, glasses on cause he had a migraine the day before from squinting at everything, it the crowd still cheered when he appeared, Eddie smiled at him all dimples and the guys gave an exaggerated slow clap at finally getting him onstage.

Eddie took his hand, the other one still holding his mike, and the band started up a cover of Tainted Love, one of the few songs that both Eddie and Steve agreed kicked ass. Maybe the lyrics didn't really reflect how they feel for each other, but watching Eddie sing to Steve, there was no doubt the man was very much in love. And when he held up the mike to Steve on the second chorus, Steve couldn't help but sing.

And oh, how Eddie's face dropped into open mouth shock, Steve had to catch his hand to keep the mike level. A quick glance showed the rest of the boys looked just as shocked, the music only continuing by pure muscle memory. Steve almost stopped singing, panicked that he was ruining the show with his voice, but the crowd was going wild and he could see the cameras flashing, and Eddie, Eddie was coming in close, the chorus over and he leaned in to Steve's ear and shouted, "don't stop!" So he didn't. And they finished the song together and thank god it was the last song in their set. So when Eddie pulled away and gave his goodbye with the rest of the band, Steve quickly walked offstage and headed to the green room, heart pounding a mile a minute.

It wasn't too long before the rest of the band piled in, and Eddie ran right to him, grabbing his face and kissing him hard.

Finally pulling away after too short a time, Eddie beamed at him. "How the fuck did I not know that you can sing?!"

Mind still a little scrambled from the kiss, Steve took a moment to answer. "Huh?"

Not the most eloquent, but he was still reeling from the loss of those lips against his own.

"Yeah man, when Ed said he was gonna pull you on stage, not gonna lie, I thought you were gonna sound awful." Garath said, earning a smack on the head from Jeff and Martin (unnamed freak).

"Not how I would've put it, but, I thought there was a reason you never sang with us before. So yeah, that was an unexpected surprise." Jeff smoothed over, knowing that so sometimes Steve's insecurities got the better if him, having mediated several fights between him and Eddie in the past.

"Holy shit baby, you were so good! I almost didn't remember to sing cause I was too busy falling even more in love with the most perfect man on earth!" Eddie gushed, gently shaking Steve by his shoulders.

"Cute, but also, get a room guys." Martin laughed. "But seriously Steve, you have a good voice. I don't know why we've been hiring background singers for some of our songs when we could've just had you do it instead."

"Oh, well, I-I don't know. I never thought I was a good singer yeah? Not for like, performing? I just wanted to kinda, ride the high of tonight, if that makes sense." Steve said, blushing and a little overwhelmed at the attention, but trying to embrace it and take the genuine compliments he was getting (something he struggled to do on a daily basis, neglectful parents having left their mark).

"First of all, bite me Martin," throwing his band mate the finger, Eddie was still beaming which softened the blow, the others laughing at him. "and second, Stevie, baby, you sound amazing! Light, but still raspy and sexy as hell." Giving him a peck on the cheek, Eddie whispered in his ear. "Gonna sing for me later big boy? In bed maybe?"

And what could Steve say to that? So he just pulled Eddie in for more kisses, deepening them regardless of the guys complaining.

The next day, the picture that was making waves in the music community was of Steve singing into the mike, Eddie looking at him with starts in his eyes and his face completely lovestruck.

@steddieassheg0es @oakenorcrist

[bunnybunbun0]

Can you please write a Michael smut where he takes readers virginity with a lot of praise or mutual masterbation please plz

TO DE-STRESS A FRIEND

Anon,that ask rocked my shit! and lucky you i love writing about virginity loss! hope you like it! <3

Summary: Living the life of a young adult was stressing you out,you needed your best friend Mike to help you relax

Warnings: Smut , minors DNI,unprotected sex,fingering,virginity loss,mutual masturbation,afab!reader,let me know if i forget any.

You are responsible for your media comsumption.

You swear that one of these days you will make it to the front page of the news,the headboard will say "local college girl goes insane".

The stress were just over the board for you,the pressure at college,maintaining a minimun wage job to pay rent of the cubicle appartment you called a home. You needed to relax. So you just did the best thing you thought off.

"Hey,i picked up pizza!" Mike greeted at the door with a smile as you let him in.

Mike has always been your best friend,he was the only one that would be kind to you when you had to change schools for junior year,and youve been inseparable since,it was weird to see one without the other,and all you needed to calm yourself down were your best friend.

"Thank god you´re here! i think i´m gonna explode!."

You sank yourself on your old couch on the small living room sighing deeply,hearing Mike´s chuckle from the kitchen as he fetched you both plates for the cheesy delight.

"Relax,two more years and youll have your degree." He smiled at you with those sweet brown puppy eyes that could easily melt your heart.

You´ve been into Mike since the first homecoming you two attended together,its been you two in all events since,graduations,proms,homecomings,halloween parties,always matching outfits and always glued to one another.

As just friends of course! It´d be way too awkward to ruin the best friendship you ever had,but the caring way mike always made those nights special for you,even tho he thinks they´re lame,he always proteced you from creepy guys and mean girls at school,he listened to you ramble about your interests,he made you feel confortable and safe,and happy...

...but just as friends of course!

"Ugh,all that suffering for a lousy piece of paper!" You reflect while getting your plate of pizza (your favourite flavour of course,mike always remembered which one it is) "Just pop in the movie already!"

You took a bite of your dinner and watched as mike popped the cd on,then sitting by your side while the movie started.It wasnt a very interesting one but it was good enough to keep you both entertained. Your leg lazily hung on top of michaels and the mood was peaceful,until it wasnt.

You knew this movie were r-rated,but you didnt expect to see that,that one hot actor that been distracting you the whole movie is the one getting it on in the scene,you squirm a little,wishing you could excuse yourself to your room and let your toy do the job of settling the throb between your legs.

Mike´s eyes on you were´nt helping said throb either,you knew he could tell what happened and weirdly enough the shame of it was thrilling you more.

"You okay?" He asked suspiciouly

"Huh? Uhm,sure...." Making eye contact with him while the moans kept going on the background proved to be a hard task.

"Really? You seem...agitated" To say that was an understatement,your thoughts of mike were running wild,to the point where you could feel your underwear cling to your soaked heat.

"I´m...uhm...i am...." Mike´s sincere concern about your well being and how sweet he was about it were thriling you on even more,to the point where you couldnt muster up any words.

"I get it,you´re into that short guy on the screen" He said jealously "The scene clearly messed you,its okay if you need to...yknow...reliev yourself"

You were mortified by his words,but something about the thrill of being watched by michael´s sweet puppy eyes were making your fire burn higher.

Without taking your eyes from his and unsure of how he´d react,you slowly slid your hand into the hem of your pyjama bottoms,his lustful eyes following every movement of yours carefully,his breathing getting heavier by the moment.

"Fuck..." He whispered when you let out a low whimper as your cold finger finally found your needy clit.

You kept on staring at each othe while you pleasured yourself and after a few minutes the tent on his pants were hard to miss,and the way his hands tended to it were even harder to miss.

The movie behind you were long forgotten,the gasps and whimpers of you both were drowning the small space,eyes glued on one another and hands unable to stop pleasuring yourselfs.

"God,i cant wait any longer!" Mike pulled you suddenly on his lap kissing you deeply and passionately,swallowing your whimpers as you grinded on his lap,frenetic hands locked on the hem of his shirt pulling it over his head.

Your eyes lock on his shirtless figure and his hands caressed your waist below your shirt,goosebumps coming from your back. His hot lips went down with open mouthed kisses on your neck,a satisfied grin on his face as he took off your pyjama shirt and met your braless torso.

"Youre gonna be the death of me..." He huffed out in a breath.

You could´nt even think about responding before you felt his hot tongue on your nipple,he sucked on your breasts like his life depended on it,erupting multiples whines from you,the fire getting higher and higher between the both of you.

You snapped back to reality once you felt his hand grip your thigh strongly,inching closer and closer to where you were soaked for him.

"Mike wait!" You breathed out and he immediately stopped his ministrations,staring at you wide eyed.

"I´m so sorry,the sounds you were making,i thought you were liking it" his voice leaked of honesty.

"I´ts not that mikey,it feels great im just...i...never did this..."

"Oh,youre..."

"A virgin,yes,pathetic i know" The weight of being a twenty two year old vigin sank on you after that.

"Hey hey its fine!" He cupped your face gently and looked into your eyes,so tenderly you nearly forgot you were both half naked. "It´s all right...you should have told me sooner...if you wanna move on with it,i wanna make it special for you,like you deserve" He strokes your cheecks lovingly and you dont even need to think twice.

You threw your hands around his neck and pulled him closer kissing him with all the need in your heart.

"Please michael...make me yours"

He got up with you on his lap bringing you into your bedroom laying you gently on your bed,slowly peeling you off your shorts,you were only in your underwear now,laying in bed in front of your best friend.

"You look beautiful."

He dives into another deep kiss sliding his hands closer to where you need him the most.

"May i?" He asks teasing your hips with the elastic of your panties,you nod giving him acces to your whole body.

He slides a first finger into you with ease,revelling at the sweet moan you let out.

"Fuck baby you´re so wet"

Baby. You liked being called that,specially when mike did it. His kisses were growing desperate and erratic,just as the pace of his now two figers inside you.

"Mike,please,stop" You mutter almost out of breath opening your eyes and seeing his worried expression "Wanna cum on your cock,please."

Michael´s painfully hard cock nearly busted hearing those words come out of you,how could he deny anything you asked for? He was always putty to your wishes.

his hands quickly fumbled with the fly of his pants,making you giggle at his eagerness to get undressed,when he finally did your laugh got stifled at the sight.

His big red angry cock sprung free hitting him back in his abdomen,there was no way in hell that could fit inside your tiny virgin hole,he could see the worry in your eyes clear as day.

"Relax,ill be gentle..."

He kissed you again removing your panties now leaving you bare for him,the sight itself of you naked and wet for him,with that adorable blush on your face was driving him nuts. He drew his body closer to yours until his tip was teasing your entrance.

"You ready baby?" He asked,you nodded,and his fat tip was inside you.

You both gasped in unission at the feeling,his hands holding yours giving it a slight grip,signaling he was gonna push more in. The moan you let out were other wordly,busting his usually low ego and egging him on pleasuring you.

"Fuck baby youre so tight" With a final push and a guttural groan he was fully inside you.

The disconfort and euphoria were fighting to see who would take place on your expressions. Mike gave you a few minutes until you got used to the feeling of his shaft deflowering you,the pain turned into needines at any growing second,until it was unberable for you to have him inside you and not moving.

"Mike please,i need you to move" Your wish was his command.

He thrusted in you slow and deep,every time he bottomed himself you let out a moan,and each time you moaned he moved faster,making you moan more. It was a vicious cycle and before you could even register he was fucking you senseless.

You were flirting with your orgasm,only needing that one final push to send you over the edge.

"Mike,fuck,i´m so close" you whined out,only needing his sweet final push.

"Come on baby,be good and cum for me,feel good for me."

You couldn´t hold it at his praise,moaning his name loudly followed by a string of profanities. He was hypnotized by the sight of your orgasm,seeing you trash and moan underneath him,his hips moving on his own as you ride your high.

"Oh,fuck baby,watch me cum so good for you"

He pulled it out jerking off quickly on top of you painting your pretty tits white his seed before collapsing tired on top of you.

"So..." He rolls to your side holding your hand and laying close to you "Did you liked it? Are you okay?" You chuckled at the shift in his personality.

"It was amazing..." Your voice was hoarse from all the moaning "My legs will definetely be sore by the morning and i have class tomorrow" You laugh a little

"You can afford to miss class one day,you need to de-stress" He kissed your temple as you both drifted into a peaceful post sex sleep.

I guess yiu were more relaxed after all...

Gosh,i suck at endings and i´m writing this at four AM so i hope it doesnt suck!

[oohnotvery]

Hand To Your Heart: Chapter 8

Read on AO3 here.

tw/cw for pregnancy content in author’s note:

Thank you so much for that warm “welcome back.” I don’t feel like I deserved your generosity or kindness since I completely bailed on this story for so long.

If anyone is interested in a personal update, I’m over halfway to meeting my new baby and unfortunately have had some complications (including a minor surgery last week, thus the delay in posting Chapter 8), but the little guy is healthy and gigantic. We have a name, which is exciting, and my daughter has started carrying a baby doll around and calling it her “baby brother.” So that’s truly precious! We’ll see how she really feels come February.

Okay, but also in personal news—and perhaps this is too personal for Tumblr, but I can’t help myself—I had to withdraw my daughter from her daycare two weeks ago because I caught her teacher HITTING HER across the face. I reported the daycare and the teacher to the appropriate authorities, but oh my god, what if I hadn’t seen it happen?? That was a devastating day and sometimes I still close my eyes and that moment just replays in my mind’s eye over and over and over again. I’ll be sitting in traffic and jolt back to seeing someone hit my little girl and my blood BOILS. Trust no one, indeed.

As to the fic, just a reminder, this story isn’t Mulder/Diana, and it also isn’t Scully/Other! Have no fear.

Mike Stephens seems highly motivated to make the most of their arrangement, because just two hours later, at 4 p.m., he struts into the bull pen as cocky as a rooster.

At first, she doesn’t notice him, only registering a shift in the atmosphere when she sees Mulder’s head lift and his shoulders tense. Following his gaze, she looks up, her cheeks flushing the moment she catches sight of Mike.

Abruptly, she rises to her feet, determined to head this off before it escalates. Part of her wants to shove her new sexual arrangement in Mulder’s face; a much larger part of her demands she conduct her intimate business in private. She catches Mike’s arm before he can cozy up to her desk, steering him towards a nearby conference room where they can be more discreet. But he stops her gently, a wide smile on his face.

“Just wanted to see if you were around tonight,” he says quietly, his face tipped towards hers. “Or am I being too forward?”

She swallows past her embarrassment. Any ordinary person might not catch their muted conversation, but in her peripheral vision, she notices Mulder’s tense posture and the way his head angles towards them. He’s definitely listening.

Remembering herself, Scully flashes Mike a reassuring smile while her brain tries to process her response.

At first, she hesitates. Seeing him tonight would be . . . expeditious. She hasn’t even had a moment to reflect on her impulsive choice to get involved with Mike. Is rushing into something with him tonight a mistake?

And then she remembers Mulder’s plans. He’s going to dinner with Diana tonight—dinner, drinks, and most likely sex. Scully attempts to overlook the reality that she’s centering her choices around Mulder’s plans, and it grates on her more than she’d like to admit. But it’s always been this way between them. From the moment she and Mulder met, she’s anchored her life to his. In a sense, she’s always been destined to revolve around him.

She meets Mike’s gaze and gives a short nod. “Come by at eight?” she offers, keeping her voice low.

His smile widens as he reaches around her to grab a sticky note and pen from her desk. He pushes them towards her.

“Your address?”

Behind them, Mulder turns slightly in his chair and Scully’s face burns brighter. Why is she doing this to herself? He’s a smart guy. He’s going to know she’s just doing it because he’s sleeping with Diana. He knows she isn’t actually interested in Mike—she even admitted it to him many moons ago.

“Dana?” Mike prompts, interrupting her thoughts.

She bites her lip, then scribbles down her information.

She and Mike exchange a few more pleasantries before he retreats towards the elevators. She takes a second to collect herself, combing her fingers through her hair and smoothing down her skirt. She still has about an hour left of work before she’ll allow herself to leave to get ready for tonight. She just needs a moment to calm down and refocus—

Mulder is watching her, his body now fully turned to face her. She catches his gaze and tries not to react at what she sees in his eyes. His gaze is coolly neutral, the face of a profiler, giving little away. But she knows him well, and she thinks she sees something else in there. Hurt, maybe, or confusion. She can’t quite place the emotions. But she does know one thing: he’s onto her.

Pursing her lips, she breaks his gaze and primly takes a seat. Time to get to work.

**

At home, Scully showers and shaves, ignoring the way the razor bobbles in her trembling hands. It takes her thirty minutes to pick out an appropriate outfit. Staring into her underwear drawer is like staring into a timelapse of her short-lived relationship with Mulder. She can’t wear the black lingerie set with Mike tonight—she was wearing those the first time Mulder ever went down on her. She can’t wear the blue set either, because the panties have a tiny rip in the side from where he yanked them off roughly in excitement. In the end, she discover she only owns two pieces of undergarments that Mulder hasn’t touched, and while both pieces are the opposite of sexy, she simply can’t bring herself to wear anything that reminds her of him tonight.

She settles on a black cardigan and black pants, dabs her lips with a thin layer of lipstick, and touches up her eye makeup. She pops open a bottle of wine and drinks half a glass by herself, wondering if Mike will care that her breath smells like alcohol. She highly doubts it. This is just casual sex, nothing more.  

Mike knocks five minutes before eight and Scully’s fists curl into tight, anxious balls as she walks to the door and lets him in. He makes a few standard comments about how nice her apartment is, how it took him a few minutes to find a parking spot, how she lives far from the Hoover Building. She nods and responds with the usual pleasantries, her higher mind taking over even as her internal alarm system begins to register a blind panic.

What the fuck is she doing?

She jumps when he settles his hands at her waist.

“You alright?” he asks, his eyebrows creasing.

She swallows thickly and nods, unable to speak. His hands are too heavy against her hips and he’s standing at the wrong angle. Mulder is so much taller, she realizes idly as Mike tugs her flush to his body. God, and Mulder is stronger too, she realizes as her hands rise automatically to his biceps. He smiles down at her and this time, she robustly fights the urge to compare his lips to Mulder’s. But she can’t help but notice that Mike’s aren’t as full, and his teeth aren’t as straight.

It's obvious before his mouth even touches hers that she’s not going to enjoy this. For Christ’s sake, she chides herself, am I ever going to want another man now that I’ve had Mulder? What have I done to myself?

Her panic escalates as Mike’s tongue darts out to part her lips. It hadn’t occurred to her until this moment that she might get emotional kissing another man. From this point on, she realizes with a sinking heart, Mulder will no longer be the last person I’ve kissed. The thought makes her so queasy that she starts to pull away, but Mike presses into her more firmly. With shock, she realizes he’s already hard.

Don’t do it, don’t do it, she reprimands herself. Don’t make the comparison—

He’s not as big as Mulder either.

“Fuck,” she whispers angrily, pulling away.

Mike opens his eyes and stares at her with concern. “Everything okay?”

She glances up at him, but her mind is somewhere else completely. Mulder is at dinner with Diana, she thinks. He’s wining and dining Diana Fowley and then he’s going to fuck her. He’s going to fuck that woman tonight and he’s not going to be thinking of me. Who cares if Mulder isn’t the last person I've kissed? I haven’t been the last woman he’s kissed in weeks.

Is she really doing this to make herself feel better? Because if so, it’s only making her feel much, much worse. She blinks, trying to clear her thoughts.

“Just needed a minute,” she says nervously, hoping her hesitation comes across as coquettish shyness.

She excuses herself to pour them each a glass of wine, and only after she’s downed hers does she let Mike kiss her again. He moves them to the couch and she idly notes that he’s unbuttoning her cardigan, then her pants. She keeps kissing him for the sake of appearances, but she is nearly apathetic in her arousal. Mike’s fingers drift down to her panties and she wills herself to get wet for him, but she’s too distracted.

“Too much wine,” she says unconvincingly when he glances up at her in question. “I’ve—I’ve had a long day.”

Mike withdraws his hand and settles back against the couch, eyeing her carefully. “Should we postpone?”

“Hmm?” she asks aloofly, as if she hasn’t been completely disinterested in him since the minute he arrived.

He smiles gently. “I get the feeling you’re not quite ready for this tonight.”

She shakes her head. “It’s not that—”

“Dana,” he says kindly, leaning forward, “tonight’s been nice. You’re a beautiful woman and I want to spend more time with you.” He reaches out and brushes her cheek. She tries not to flinch. “But there’s no reason to rush this. Why don’t we rain check?”

She nods dumbly, unable to reconcile the tumult of emotions raging inside her: relief that she doesn’t have to fake it with Mike anymore, and humiliation that she couldn’t go through with her plan. Mulder surely isn’t having trouble getting it up for Diana tonight.

In the end, she and Mike leave it open, tentatively agreeing to catch up again on Sunday. But when the weekend passes and she hasn’t heard from him, she starts to worry that perhaps she’s ruined her chances.

On Monday, Scully enters the bull pen with a brave face. She knows she’ll see Mulder and she suspects that Diana will make an appearance at his desk. How many times will she have to endure watching their relationship blossom in front of her?

But Mulder doesn’t show. By lunchtime, Scully assumes that he and Diana are off together working their case, which is why she’s surprised when the woman in question struts down the hallway and plants herself in front of her desk.

“Agent Scully,” Diana greets her.

“Agent Fowley.”

Diana props a hand against her desk and Scully steels herself for yet another emotionally difficult conversation.

“Have you seen Fox?” Diana asks.

Scully blinks. “Not this morning.”

Diana purses her lips. “And over the weekend?”

Scully shakes her head slowly. “No, I haven’t seen him since Friday.”

“And you haven’t heard from him?”

Scully narrows her eyes. “Is something wrong, Agent Fowley?”

Diana clears her throat, straightening up. Scully can tell she’s trying to act casual, but when Diana speaks, there’s concern in her voice.

“He was supposed to meet me Friday night and he . . . didn’t,” the other woman says. “He hasn’t answered any of my calls or emails either. I tried going by his apartment over the weekend, but he didn’t answer his door if he was there.”

Scully considers this. “Was his car in the parking lot?”

Diana shakes her head. “The building has been mandating street parking lately. I drove around the block and didn’t see his vehicle, but there’s a chance I could have missed it.”

Scully nods thoughtfully, resisting the wave of irritation she feels at not knowing this new development in Mulder’s apartment situation. “And he gave you no indication that he’d be out of pocket all weekend?”

Diana rolls her eyes. “You know how he is. Fox is rarely predictable.”

This may be the first time she’s ever agreed with Diana Fowley on anything, and she finds herself nodding.

“I guess I’ll give him a call,” Scully finally says, chewing her lip. “See if I can get in touch with him.”

Diana nods stoically, but the concern in her eyes is evident. Although it’s not unheard of for Mulder to go missing for days at a time, Scully feels herself growing uneasy at Diana’s reaction. The other agent expected to see him this weekend, that much is clear. After Diana departs, Scully picks up her phone and dials Mulder’s number, immediately getting his voicemail. She shoots him an email, but after an hour with no reply, she starts growing restless.

The day passes and Mulder never shows. Scully tries calling him three more times with no luck. When Mike gives her a ring, she sends him straight to voicemail. When she listens to his message, she learns he wants to come by tonight. Scully swallows hard at the thought. She really needs to force herself to try again with him. One more try, that’s all she needs.

But as she stares at Mulder’s empty chair, she knows exactly how she’s going to spend the rest of her evening. As a courtesy, she shoots Mike an email excusing her absence tonight and suggesting they try later in the week. When five o’clock hits, she jumps in her car and steers it towards Alexandria.

She’s going to find Mulder.

[fixfoxnox]

more stanley uris?🙏🙏

Calm Your Nerves - Stanley Uris x Fem! Reader (NSFW)

Description: Stan's nerves are eating away at him before he and his wife are set to meet up with the other Losers again, luckily his wife knows just how to help him calm his nerves. Part 2 of A Better Bath

Warnings: Smut

Names used: Babylove, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 3.1k

Note: I have one more Stanley Uris request in my ask box, but after I finish that I'll be taking a break from writing for Stan!

“You still aren’t dressed?” She stepped into the small room they’d been given at the townhouse. She’d wanted to make her own reservation for the trip, if only to give herself something that she could control, but Mike told her that he had everything handled, and that was that. She stepped closer to Stan, worry clear on her face.

She’d been hard-pressed to let him out of her sight since they’d gotten the call, since she’d practically broken down the door to his office, her eyes immediately zeroing in on the letters that he was writing. She’d known. She’d probably known he would try it since they were kids, since he’d taken that broken bottle piece and jokingly pretended to cut his own wrists when they made their vow. That memory had come from the depths of her mind. The vow. Derry, Maine. The Losers Club. Georgie. It. 

All of it had come rushing back to her and if it hadn’t been for the trashcan that Stanley kept by the door to his office, she knew she would have ruined their carpets. That didn’t matter though. It didn’t matter because Stan was here, he was here in front of her, sitting on a bed in the Derry townhouse, looking like a miserable puppy who’d been forced to take a bath, his wet hair from his shower still clinging to his forehead.

She stepped closer to him, moving to stand between his legs so that she could properly brush the hair from his face. He leaned into her touch, his arms coming to wrap around her legs as he leaned his head against her stomach. “It isn’t too late for us to leave,” he mumbled to her, his voice hoarse. “We can still go home and pretend this never happened.”

“Stan,” she scolded lightly, “We made a promise.”

“When we were kids!” He stressed, pulling back to look up at her with wild eyes. She could see the fear that was reflected in them and it made her heart constrict in her chest. She hated to see Stan so worried. 

“Hun,” she took his face in her hands, trying to comfort him as best she could, “It’s just dinner with some old friends.”

“But Mike-”

“Could be wrong,” she interrupted. She leaned down, capturing his lips with her own in a sweet kiss. She took one of Stan’s hands in her own as they pressed their lips together slowly, sweetly. His hands were shaking. There was another moment as she pressed closer to him, his hands began rubbing at the back of her thighs, skating over the curve of her ass. She pulled away from the kiss slowly, her hands pressing into his shoulders to push him back toward the bed. “I think,” she slowly climbed onto the bed to straddle him, “that you need to take your mind off of things. Calm your nerves a bit.”

Stan’s hands landed on her hips, tugging her down to grind against him in a slow roll. She gave a gasp at the delicious pressure, her hands coming to rest against his naked chest for support. Stan only tilted his head back with a satisfied sigh. “I certainly won’t say no.” He brought her down to roll against him again. 

She could feel him growing harder against her, his boxers were the only thing separating his growing cock from her jean-clad legs. She ground down against him again, tilting her head back as the move caused the seam of her pants to rub against her deliciously. “We have to be quick,” she warned him.

“I can be quick,” he assured her, his hands already tugging at the button of her pants, “But you have to get these fucking things off.” His words were nothing more than a low growl, ripped from his throat viciously. His cheeks were going pink and with that clouded look in his eyes, she knew that he was focused on one thing and one thing alone: burying himself deep inside of her. 

She was quick to climb off of him, shimmying out of her pants and panties as quickly as she could. Stan was in a similar boat, kicking off his boxers quickly to reveal his hard cock to the world. She licked her lips at the sight of it, feeling heat pooling in her stomach and her hands aching to wrap around his length. 

She watched wide-eyed for a moment as Stan wrapped a hand around his cock, giving himself a few slow jerks as moans pulled from his throat. She wasn’t going to stay still for long and was quick to take the few steps back toward the bed, batting Stanley’s hand away to replace it with her own. 

Stan’s head tilted back against the bed, his lidded eyes watching her face as her hand slowly worked his cock. She let her hand tighten and loosen in a quick rhythm. Tighter at the bottom and softer at the top. Her face flushed slowly as Stan’s moans grew more desperate, his hand coming forward to yank at her shirt, trying to tempt her to just climb on top of him and take him already. Her cunt throbbed at the thought. 

Still, she couldn’t force herself to, not when she could see the little bit of pre-cum at the tip of Stan’s cock, the sight was just too tempting. It was too tempting and she loved to hear the noises that he made. With that thought in mind, she let her hand stroke to the bottom of his cock before she dived down, giving a quick kitten lick to the tip of his dick. Stan’s hips jerked under the quick movement. “Fuck! Babylove,” she interrupted his words by wrapping her mouth around the head of his cock, swirling her tongue around him quickly. His voice sounded wrecked as another breathy moan pulled from his lips, “fuck, I thought we had to be- oh god, quick?”

She didn’t answer, only hummed amusedly in response. His responding whine made her throb. She dropped to her knees in front of the man, a bit more comfortable of a position than trying to lean over him. Her mouth continued working him, slowly taking him deeper and deeper into her mouth, laving her tongue over the side of his cock. It wasn’t until she’d taken him almost as deep as she could that she hollowed her cheeks, giving a harsh suck that had his hands flying to her hair and his hips jumping up into the feeling. 

She nearly choked on his length as it abused the back of her throat, but she managed to keep her gag reflex in check, allowing Stan to use his hand in her hair to begin guiding her mouth up and down on his cock, quicker and quicker as his moans grew more desperate. “So good for me,” he moaned out, “so fucking good, letting me fuck your mouth like this.”

She whimpered around his cock, feeling her face flush red again. She could feel herself clenching, aching to have some sort of pressure against herself. Her free hand dropped down, teasing her clit with slow strokes at first before speeding up to match the pace with which Stan was fucking her mouth. As usual, Stan seemed to know exactly how much she was getting off to this. He knew her inside and out, and he could tell from her moans the second she’d started to touch herself.

“Playing with your cunt, aren’t you?” He gave a moaned-out laugh, his hips beginning to jump up into her mouth. She could feel him twitching on her tongue. At his words, she pressed her fingers harder to herself, moving quicker to feel those jolts of pleasure work through her legs and slowly begin to fog her brain. “God, I wanna fuck you so bad, babylove.”

Spit slicked down her chin, the force of his growing thrusts making her gag around his length. He felt too good fucking her throat, she couldn’t even think about the fact that she likely wouldn’t be able to speak properly afterward, but she knew she wanted it. She wanted him to wreck her, she always did. The thought made her moan around his length, her hand on her clit slowly sinking lower to tease around her entrance. She prodded one finger inside of herself, it was far too little of a stretch, but soon she was able to add another and that, combined with the pressure of her palm still stimulating her clit, was enough to have her mind going blank. 

The sounds of moans and obscene sucking noises were the only thing in the room. They were being loud, as per usual, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care. The walls in the building were thin, and she knew if anyone else was there they would be able to hear exactly what they were doing. The thought only made her lick and suck at Stan more vigorously. Let them know, let all of their friends know just how much they loved each other. 

Above her, Stan’s hips began to jerk more wildly, his hand tightened in her hair, and his moans grew more and more desperate, choked off with every move. She knew he was close, which was why she was so disappointed when his grip in her hair forced her off of his cock, a small bit of drool still connecting her mouth to his soaked cock. “Fuck,” He sat up from the bed, his face red and his eyes wide, “Get up here babylove, Let me finish in you, huh? Fuck you full.” 

The words pulled a startled gasp from her and she gave herself one last good pump of her fingers inside of herself before pulling them out and scrambling to her feet. She moved to straddle Stan, crawling on top of him and feeling his cock rub deliciously over her entrance. Stan was quick to capture her soaked hand, the one she’d buried in her cunt. He brought it to his mouth, locking eyes with her as he let his mouth wrap around the digits, licking them clean. 

He moaned around her fingers, “You taste so good,” he pulled them out of his mouth, placing a kiss on her palm and beginning to trace kisses up her arm so that he could sink his face into her neck as his hands pulled her hips flush to his, both of them gasping at the resulting pleasure. “When this is all over,” he muttered into the skin of her throat, “I want to taste you. We’ll make an afternoon out of it.” 

“Stan,” she muttered lowly, embarrassment and lust in her voice. Just the thought of Stanley with his face buried between her thighs had her cunt clenching around nothing. “Please, baby,” she begged. 

“Please what?” Stan muttered against her ear, amusement clear in his voice. “You have to be a bit clearer, babylove.” 

She whined, feeling his teeth nipping against her neck, leaving little marks as one of his hands trailed up, tracing under her shirt and up to her bra. He groped at her breast through her bra, pulling a gasp from her throat as his thumb rubbed deliciously over her nipple through the material. “Please,” she rolled her hips against his, pulling a breathy laugh from his throat, “Fuck me. Please!”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Stan pulled away from her throat, quickly capturing her lips against his own, a grin on his face. His hand on her breast pulled away, slowly skating down her stomach to teasingly brush against her clit. He used his grip on her hip to pull her down, his hand grasping his cock to line himself up before he was ever so slowly sinking her down onto his length. 

She gave a gasp at the feeling, a long moan pulled from her throat as her head tilted back. He was moving so slowly, so torturously slowly. She tried to roll down, seeking that little bit of friction from him, but his hands on her hips stopped her, forcing her to take him at the pace that he set. “God, Stanley,” she whined out, her legs shaking as her arms came to grip his shoulders, pulling him tighter against her in a sloppy open-mouthed kiss. 

They both gasped when he finally bottomed out. Stan moved away from her lips, burying his face back into her throat to suck marks against her skin. He just held her there for a moment, not moving. Finally, after she started to squirm against him, desperate little whines leaving her throat, he began to move, using his grip on her hips to roll her against him. “Go on, babylove,” he muttered into her ear, giving a quick nip to the skin there, “ride me.” 

He leaned back then, a smug grin on his face as his hands stopped moving her. It was clear to see that he was going to make her do most of the work. The thought had a shiver running down her spine, her heart beating faster in her chest as she clenched around him. He moaned at the feeling. 

She let her hands move to rest against his chest, using the leverage to slowly lift herself up, before dropping back down onto him hard, both of them moaning loudly at the stimulation. She repeated the movement again, building a slow but hard rhythm that had both of them desperate, harsh little moans forced from their throats. With every move of her hips, she could feel Stanley inside of her, brushing pleasantly against her walls and hitting that spot that had her back arching and her nails digging into his chest. Her clit was rubbing deliciously against the hair at the base of his cock, sending little jolts of pleasure up her spine with every move. 

Stan’s hands grasped at her hips harder, tugging her against him harder and harder with every thrust. His hips began canting up into the feeling, little grunts escaping his mouth as his eyes grew hazy and his mouth dropped open. Whispers of her name, of how good she was, of how much he loved her escaped his mouth, causing her to slam herself harder against him. 

Her legs burned with the movement and she knew that she would be sore by the end of this, but she couldn’t make herself care, her head tilted back at the exertion, but pleasure wracked her spine. Her mind was cloudy, the only thought in her head was a constant stream of his name. Just him, him, him over and over and over. “You feel so good,” she moaned, tilting forward to hover over him. 

He groaned at her words, his body tense. She could tell her movements were growing slower by how tense he was. He was trying to let her do it, trying not to just snap and fuck into her. The thought made her warm and she clenched around him again. There was an itch in her as well, they both knew that neither of them was going to be able to reach their end this way. It just wasn’t going to happen. “Stan,” she moaned, dropping down to press kisses against his naked chest. She took his nipple into her mouth, flicking her tongue over it and rolling forward at the desperate gasp he gave. “Fuck me,” she spoke against his skin, “Please, please, fuck just take me, baby.” 

He didn’t need any more permission than that. With a quick grab of her hips, he was flipping their positions, smoothly rolling her over to her back so that he could begin to pound into her at a quickening pace. Each of his thrusts pulled a whining moan from her throat, the bed beneath them creaking dangerously at the pace and force that he was fucking her with. 

She could feel pleasure rising up inside of her, every thrust forcing it higher and higher until she was threatening to spill, her hands scratching across his back and shoulders. He was giving harsh little grunts into her skin, sweat slicking his forehead as he fucked her harshly. His words stayed sweet though, “So good for me, babylove, so fucking good. Taking me so good, so fucking tight.” She could feel his pace beginning to change, his hips moving more erratically as he neared the edge as well. 

“Please,” her head lolled back against the bed, arching up against him, desperate for that stinging pleasure to continue hitting at her. Stanley delivered, pulling her leg up over his shoulder so that he could fuck into her deeper and deeper. 

It wasn’t long after that, the sounds of skin slapping skin speeding up, growing more erratic, when she finally found herself being pushed toward the edge. She could feel herself shaking, her entire body going tense as the pleasure continued building higher and higher before finally, with one last harsh snap of Stanley’s hips against her own, she was thrown over the edge with a call of his name. 

Stan wasn’t far behind her, the tightening of her cunt around his cock sending his hips stuttering against her own. Only a few more thrusts and he was giving a grunt, burying himself deep inside of her with a harsh grunt. 

She came back to herself several moments later, wrinkling her nose at the feeling of warm cum seeping down her thighs. She didn’t say anything though, only brought her hand up to begin carding it through Stanley’s hair, just letting him lay with his head against her shoulder. They would have to move soon, no doubt they were already late, but she wasn’t going to tell him that just yet. They could take a few more moments, they could be late if they needed to be. 

“Alright?” She checked with him again as they pulled into the parking lot. She was driving, knowing that he was far too nervous and distracted to be behind the wheel of a vehicle. 

He took in a deep shaky breath, wiping his hands on his pants but giving her a smile nonetheless. “I’ll make it,” he leaned over, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Come on, I think we’re late.” He sent her a playful wink, one that had her heart fluttering in her chest and a smile pulling at her face. 

She didn’t know what was about to happen, she didn’t know if what Mike told them was true, but she did know that she would be able to handle it. She could handle it so long as she had Stan beside her, he helped her calm her nerves. 

My Masterlist

[bylerbigbang]

Switcheroo, In Your Shoes

Fic by @foodiewithdahoodie | Art by @jiuwann

Rated Teen | 36k words

Before high school, Mike and Will thought they'd be thick as thieves along with the rest of the party. However, they discover that they don't have any classes together and drift apart making new friends outside of their childhood friends or focus on their separate hobbies. Then, a rumor happens that further puts a wedge in between Mike and Will. Now, on graduation night, Mike and Will try to make amends and perhaps confess their feelings, only for things to go astray as the next day they have switched bodies. After not seeing eye to eye in so long, perhaps this is their chance to be in each other's shoes.

Warnings: smoking, underage drinking, F slurs, slut-shaming mention, implied sexual content (dreams, imaginations, seeing the other naked implicitly, attempted non-explicit first time - doesn't pan out because they're in each other's bodies), getting outed, AIDs reference, coming out, bullying, rumor has it

Read on Ao3 | View Art

Read an excerpt below:

“We’re gonna be late.” Will laughs to subside his desires and curiosities, ignoring how attentive Mike is being with him, and checks his wristwatch.

A matching one is around Mike’s wrist, same brand and model and year. They bought them together with their saved piggy bank allowances and the looting of couch cushions for loose change. Pooling their funds to have watches that rival Nancy's friendship bracelets she made with Barb.

“We’ll make it.” Mike promises, skillfully doing a four-in-knot tie. Big talk from a guy who’s regularly tardy to anything timed. Will decides to be nice and not bring up his doubts. When has Mike steered him wrong?

Folding the fabric lickety-split, Mike gets to work; pushing the wide end of the tie through the loop, forming the knot, slipping the end of the fabric through the knot and keeping it straight, to finally pulling the narrow end upward and taut on Will’s neck.

“Too loose? Too tight?” Mike tilts his head sideways inquisitively.

“Just right. Thanks.” Will hoarsely replies and drums his fingers on his thighs, restless.

“No problem.” Mike whispers and doesn’t remove himself.

Will looks at Mike’s stationary hands, timidly smiling and biting back a chuckle. “Are you gonna let go of me anytime soon?”

Mike says nothing in response. He simply and slowly nods with an unreadable expression that Will can’t decipher. Little by little, Mike statically withdraws, sliding his hands down inch by inch, fingers smoothing the fabric until reaching the pointed tip of Will’s tie pinched between his thumb and index finger. Neither of them make a move to leave for the ceremony. They just stand there, lost in a moment they don’t want to acknowledge, staring bashfully at their feet because eye contact would make it too heartfelt.

Will has to hurry, his last name puts him in the second row. Very noticeable for the audience to see him tiptoeing to his seat. Mike can get away with slithering into his chair, perks of having a surname grouped with the last-letters-of-the-alphabet kids. Instead of parting ways, they gradually and courageously look at each other, their locked eyes conveying enormous emotions, words they wish to say palpable in the silence, lips tingling to free their thoughts and unburden their hearts.

Will is the first to spin on his heels, admiring himself in the mirror and squashing his relapsing hope that there could be something more that Mike leaves unsaid. Through the reflection, he subconsciously locks eyes again with Mike's large and sparkling ones.

Fiddling with his tie dozily, Will talks to Mike’s reflection. It’s easier to do than facing the real thing. “You gotta teach me sometime.”

“Definitely.”

“Well, we better go!”

“Yeah—Hey, wait!” Mike exclaims abruptly, his outburst pausing Will's receding footsteps. “Uh, can you, um, sign my yearbook?”

Gobsmacked, Will gawks at Mike, shyly laughing and raising an incredulous brow. “You mean right now?”

“Uh-huh! I mean—No! I mean later! Later! I have it stashed in my car.” Mike clarifies,

[emblazons]

—so @magentamee reblogged this ask from me and like the little overthinker I am, I realized a few things.

A lot of people here have talked about the way the ending of each season foreshadows something that goes on in the next one / has clues as to the feelings and directions the characters are headed in—which we all certainly know is true of the voiceover of Hopper’s letter to end S3. Looking at this shot specifically, though—

—aka when a sentiment + phrasing Hopper says mirrors both Mike’s ongoing actions with El in S4 (“my life started that way we found you in the woods” mirroring all the Mike/Hopper emotional conflations I’ve already pointed out), we get some very interesting subtext & unruly amount of foreshadowing.

Here, we have El holding onto Mike for dear life, while Mike is half holding her and half holding Lucas/Dustin…the two other members of the party who are strictly platonic in his mind, foreshadowing her moving 100% into a platonic space (“care” v “love”), while she still tries to cling to the emotional connection of the romantic, which is interesting enough foreshadowing on its own—

—but even more than that, we have Will set apart from that wholly platonic group, while Mike and Will are the only ones whose faces you can see…with Will in the light and Mike in shadow, the exact same way we repeatedly see reflected in the cinematography even more dramatically throughout all of S4.

That single S3 shot mirrors the way (as several people have pointed out) Will is also the “focus” of the supposedly romantic moment between Mike and El because the sentiment is built on Will’s painting—

—where Mike is again in shadow because we have Mike’s romantic disconnect on display while we as an audience have (once again) have the structure of the show ask us to to focus on Mike & Will, even as it’s supposedly El who he’s ‘attached to.’

Basically—that scene was S4 Mike in a nutshell.

A Mike who is being clung to by El because she is missing her dad, but who has moved her into a platonic attachment in his heart of hearts

A Mike who will reflect the same sentiments as Hopper in his attempts to assuage El’s loss

A Mike holding El up (but us not seeing her face) reflecting the entire sentiment of him giving the monologue without her offering a response

A Mike who we are starting to see the truth in again, but who is “in shadow” because he is being dishonest about himself and his feelings

The shift of focus from “the group” (aka the whole party being in the shot) to Byler alone (Mike and Will being the only faces you can see)

Will being “illuminated” and the “light” that Mike follows when he is in shadow (whole or partial), for better or worse (aka Mike feeling affirmed by Will, but Will’s dishonesty causing problems)

….on top of the fact that (if my suspicions are correct) the light/shadow thing also reflects their own sense of accepting their queerness/feelings for one another.

Basically…I really do love it when something that lasts 2 whole seconds that I happened to look up because one phrase repeated itself actually holds a lot of information that only makes sense in recontextualized retrospect…just like everything else in this lil show lmaooooo

[winchesterszvonecek]

Prosecutorial Misconduct 18+

Chapter 7 - A Long Awaited Reunion

Word Count: 8518

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

It’s just a knock on the door.

That’s the only phrase that swirled around Melanie’s mind as she lingered outside Mike’s apartment, rocking nervously back and forth on her heels as she did nothing but stare absently at her own reflection in the golden numbers before her. 

It’s just a knock on the door. That’s it. 

A simple tap tap of her knuckles against the wood and she could easily have jumpstarted the moment she’d been longing for. All she had to do was raise her hand. All she had to do was announce herself and she’d finally get to see her brother again after five long years spent apart. 

It’s what she’d wanted, after all. To have Mike back in her life and back by her side, but the longer she stood there… The more nausea she let brew in her stomach… The more thoughts she let plague her mind…the less confidence Melanie seemed to have in herself that she could do it. 

What if things didn’t go the way she planned? What Mike didn’t want to see her? What if… What if she had ruined things permanently and was out of her mind in thinking she ever could mend them? What if he hated her? What if he despised her with everything he had because of the simple way in which she had treated him? 

It was possible. The likelihood of their bridge being nothing more than a pile of smouldering ash was high and she wouldn’t have put it past Mike if he chose to bury it. It’s not like she deserved anything less as she hadn’t exactly been the best sister to him lately. Hell, she hadn’t even been his sister as the way she had treated him… The way she had so cruelly taken things out on him, simply because he just so happened to be there when she needed to? It was nowhere near close to how she was supposed to treat her brother and if you were to ask anyone, they’d happily tell you that she should be downright ashamed of herself.

And she was. She couldn’t be more ashamed of herself if she tried, and if she was telling the truth she was absolutely disgusted by it. She was horrified over her own actions as… how could she? Mike was her twin brother — her literal other half, how could she do that to him? How could she hurt him? How could she betray him? After all he’d done for her… After all the times he’d been the only one by her side, she had still had the audacity to throw him away like garbage and now…what? 

Now she thought she could just show up to his home with her tail tucked between her legs and beg him to forgive her? Beg him to let her back in, and for what? For her own gain? For her own amends? How selfish could she get? She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve his forgiveness, or his advice, or his love. She didn’t deserve anything from him and he sure as hell didn’t deserve to be dragged back into any more of her messes. 

He may already be being forced into her unit, but that didn’t mean he had to be shoved back into her life alongside it and with that in mind, Melanie was quick to spin on her heels and make a run for it. She had to get out of there. It wasn’t right for her to be even here and so, with tears already brewing in her eyes, she headed straight for the exit, hoping to make a swift escape before Mike decided to leave the confines of his apartment himself. 

Only, as she hurried down the corridor with her heart in her stomach, Melanie quickly came to learn that Mike had never been in his apartment. Not for a single second of her anxiously standing there had he ever been inside those walls, as when she passed the elevator… And when those doors creaked eerily open, he walked right out from between them and almost knocked her clean off her feet. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, I…” 

As Mike’s clumsy gaze rose from the ground and drifted slowly up the short length of his sudden near-miss, his words were quick to fall silent. His mouth drew tightly closed. His eyes failed to complete their path to her face and even so he didn’t need to go any further. He didn’t need to carry on up and catch a glimpse of her to know her identity, as he already knew who it was. From the mere way in which she stood before him, rigid beneath the hands he’d used to help steady her and fiddling anxiously with an identical bracelet to the one on his wrist, he knew who it was.

And truth be told, he almost couldn’t believe it. 

“Mellie?” Mike whispered, allowing his hands to fall as he took a small step back so as not to crowd her. He drew in a shallow breath, forcing his gaze to carry on up the last stretch of her body, whereupon reaching the top, they instantly tightened at the worry that swam in her own and he couldn’t help but think the worst. “Mellie? What is it? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Melanie said immediately, shaking her head and flashing him a forced smile as she nervously began to shuffle to her right, her eyes shifting past his arm as she marked out her escape route. “It’s nothing. I, uh, I shouldn’t be here. I’m sorry.” 

Before her words could settle in the air Melanie was already trying to rush past him, but given the irksome little detail of Mike knowing her, and her go to moves, better than anyone else on the planet he was quick to jerk to his left to try and stop her. However, like the fool he sometimes was, he made one critical mistake in that he raised his arm, allowing Melanie to duck seamlessly beneath it and make her break for the stairwell. 

By the time Mike realised what had happened and spun on his heels she had already slipped through the door, leaving it to swing noisily in place as he followed swiftly after her. He barreled through it like the cop he was, not even remotely surprised to find that Melanie was already two flights down by the time he reached the very first step and began his descent.

“Melanie, wait!” Mike called after her, his voice echoing around him as he jumped the last four stairs of the first set. He landed roughly on the cement, swirling round the bend so fast that he nearly fell headfirst down the next. 

But what would a chase with Melanie be if he hadn’t almost killed himself, and with a fond smile tugging at his lips he easily brushed it off and regained his footing, descending the second flight in fewer jumps than most regular people could. He kept going, his long legs giving him a proper fighting chance of catching Melanie before she reached the bottom, but even still, he had that lingering fear that he’d lose her in the street for good, and so he picked up the pace. 

However, as he finally reached the bottom floor and made his break for the door, he didn’t need to go any faster, as Melanie had made the rookie mistake of slowing down as she crossed through the foyer. Mike caught up to her easily, hooking his hand around her elbow and stopping her dead in his tracks, which was easier than he thought it would be as it seemed as though the mere touch of his hand caused Melanie to lose all incentives to flee. He loosened his grip a little, allowing her to slip freely out of it as her feet began to move on their volition, a sharp sigh leaving her lips as she spun slowly on her heels to face him. 

“You never could outrun me,” Mike said matter of factly, a small grin splitting his lips at the deadpan look that engulfed Melanie’s face.

“Alright, Edward Cullen , pipe down,” She muttered, rolling her eyes and folding her arms over her chest as Mike chuckled softly to himself. “So you caught me. Who’s to say I didn’t let you?” 

“Your eyes,” Mike huffed out cockily, raising his finger and swirling it in circles in front of her face. “Is that defeat I see in there?” 

“Stop it,” Melanie grumbled, swatting at his hand and trying her best to act outwardly annoyed despite the smile that was tugging at her lips each time he tried again. “God, you’re such a dick sometimes.” 

“Yeah well,” Mike began, exhaling quietly as he tucked both hands into his pockets and shrugged, his voice quiet, “I’m your brother, aren’t I? It’s my job.” 

“Yeah,” Melanie sucked at her teeth, her eyes falling to the foyer floor at the intense wave of guilt that washed over her. “You are… But if you were wise, you wouldn’t be.” 

“Mellie,” Mike whispered, the raw pain that dripped from her tone breaking his heart entirely. He stepped forward, removing one hand from his pocket and placing it on shoulder, feeling as it all but trembled beneath his touch. “Mellie, look at me.” 

Like a child, Melanie refused.

“Melanie Grace, you look at me,” Mike said again, this time with enough firmness that it mimicked their dad and took him by surprise. 

It worked, though. It took Melanie a second, as she cringed over the use of her middle name and the eerie similarities the moment had to all the times her dad had been the one to say it, but eventually she gave in, sighing deeply through her nose and glancing up at him. 

With his features softening, Mike lifted his hand and placed it gently aside her face. “I’ll always be your brother, Mellie. No matter what.” 

“Then that makes you an idiot,” Melanie sniffled, trying her best to keep her tears at bay as she pressed her fingertips to her chest. “Because the way I treated you…”

A disbelieving, disgusted scoff left the back of her as she fell silent, her lip wobbling and her eyes squeezing shut as she struggled to find the right words to fully express herself. To fully express how sorry she was, for everything. It had already been hard, just facing Mike again without a pre-written script in her head, but to hear him say that? To hear him say he’d always be her brother? No matter what? 

Well, let’s just say it made it so much harder for her to figure out how to properly showcase just how deeply sorry she was for causing him the need to say it. But luckily for her, Mike knew her better than anyone else and didn’t need her to say anything. He didn’t need her to fill the void by forcing more pain soaked words out of her mouth, not when he could already see what was so obviously haunting her. 

It was written all over her face, sitting heavy beneath her eyes and cascading over every ounce of her skin like a rippling wave of thick, murky fog. But most importantly, he could see it in her eyes once they opened again, as though it were carved into stone as it sat etched into every shimmer of the brownness staring back at him. He would have been blind to miss it. 

The regret. 

The self-hatred.

The all round, and deeper than the ocean they both loved, guilt that swam in their entirety was exponential, and from the way she struggled... The way she failed at keeping them focused on him for longer than a few seconds, he could easily tell that she was drowning in it. That she was all but gasping for air beneath the heavy weight of the repressed emotions that had come crashing back down on top of her and so he allowed his hand to fall, his arms wrapping instantly around her small frame as he invited her to lean as much of that weight as she could onto him. 

And boy did she ever. 

As her own arms slipped comfortably around him, Melanie felt heavier than she’d ever been before and it very nearly caused him to stumble backwards. He managed to steady himself before he did, thankfully, and as his legs stiffened in place he could already feel his t-shirt dampening as she continued to cry against his chest, her shaking fingers curling tightly around the fabric as she allowed every drop of it out at once. 

Years worth of guilt, of pain — agonising pain seemed to come pouring out of the flood gates in those few small minutes during which held her, doing nothing but stroking the back of her hair and providing her with all the comfort she could ever need to finally let it all out. He had no idea just how much she had in her. How much she had bottled up deep inside. How much she’d been struggling these past few years without him. And it hurt. Like a bullet to the gut, the thought of her suffering in silence for this long pained him in ways he didn’t even think were possible. 

He always thought she was okay. He always… Every time he asked, their dad always made it seem as though she’d gotten her life back together and was finally happy again. But just looking at her now… Or rather, seeing her not look at him out of fear of showing vulnerability as she all but crumbled into pieces in his arms? He didn’t think she’d ever been okay and if he had known… If he had really, truly known just how badly she was suffering, he’d have broken down her front door a long time ago and refused to leave until she’d talked to him. 

“I know I hurt you,” Melanie whispered, lifting her head from his chest and using her shoulders to wipe at her eyes as she sniffled softly, “And I understand if you hate me, but Mikey I need you to know that I am sorry. For every horrible thing I said to you, I am so sorry.”  

“I know,” Mike said softly, bringing one hand up to wipe away the tears that kept rolling down her cheeks. “But you don’t need to apologise, because I don’t blame you.”  

Melanie’s brow dipped, “You don’t?” 

“No, I don’t,” Mike said assuringly, and it was true. He could never, ever blame her for her actions, not after what she’d been through. “You went through a terrible tragedy. One after the next, and I didn’t understand that. I didn’t… I didn’t know what you needed or when you needed it and I pushed too far. I forced you to snap…”

“No, you didn’t…”

“Yes, I did ,” Mike cut her off, his eyes serious, “Now I may never be able to know just how you felt back then, but I know how you feel now. I know what you carry with you every single day, but you don’t have to do it anymore…because I forgive you. Even though I don't need to, I do forgive you, Mellie. For everything. And if you’ll let me… I’d really like to be your brother again.” 

“I’d really like you to be too,” Melanie whispered. Barely. She didn’t want to open her mouth more than a fraction out of fear of what would come pouring out through it. Instead, she just smiled tearfully, leaning herself against Mike’s chest and feeling as his arms tightened around her again. “But you might regret that once you start working with me.” 

Mike laughed, releasing her from his hold, “I’m sure I’ll manage.” 

“Yeah we’ll see,” Melanie said playfully, yet doubtfully. She wiped at her face, doing her best to settle herself as she elaborated further, “I’ve been told I’m a handful.” 

“No surprise there…” Mike mumbled, before asking quickly in case Melanie assaulted him for it, “You want to go get a drink?” He raised his eyebrow, adding enticingly, “My treat?”  

“I’m on duty,” Melanie sighed sadly, as she would have loved nothing more than to drink his wallet dry. She then shrugged, adding lazily, “Technically, anyway. I’m on desk duty.” 

That I walked out on, she thought to herself. But whatever. Duty is duty, and unfortunately for her that meant staying sober. 

“Okay,” Mike drew out, choosing not to ask why she was on desk duty just yet . “Coffee then?” 

Melanie hummed in disagreement, “I’ve already had six cups and an energy drink today, my heart won’t take any more.” 

“Jesus, Mellie, what is wrong with you? No one needs that much caffeine before…” Mike glanced down at his watch, his eyes widening as he shook his head. “Three in the afternoon… Do you have a death wish?”

“Not at the moment, no,” Melanie said casually, and Mike couldn’t help but narrow his eyes worryingly. He always hated when she talked like that. “But I do have a hangover, so it’s justified.

“Barely,” Mike scoffed, yet he brushed it off and rolled back his shoulders, releasing the tension from on top of them. He took a second, his forehead creasing as he tried to think of the best place, besides home, for his hungover, chaos-embodiment of a sister. “How about a walk through Central park? Get some fresh air into your lungs? Clear your head?” 

“Boring,” Melanie groaned dramatically, her face scrunching up at the mere suggestion as does she look like a dog who needs walked? “There’s too many people there, also I just tackled a public masturbator in there like thirty minutes ago, so you know… Ew.” 

“Fair,” Mike exhaled, tilting his head agreeingly. “Sounds pleasant, though.” 

“Oh, it was,” Melanie replied with equal sarcasm, and with an evenly matched satirical smile that made Mike chuckle. “And it’s everything you have to look forward to.” 

Mike nodded in fairness, a small amount of relief coursing through him when Melanie didn’t appear outwardly peeved by the mention of his transfer. “Where do you want to go then?” 

With a shrug, Melanie mumbled, “I don’t know… Maybe the aquarium?” 

“The aquarium?” Mike repeated questionably, his brow furrowing a touch as when it came to Melanie, the aquarium was pretty much a full day excursion. “I thought you were on duty.”

“ Desk duty,” Melanie reiterated, unamused. “And besides, I just got my gun taken away from me so I feel like I deserve to see some fish.” 

“You gonna tell me what’s going on?” Mike asked, “Because dad hasn’t stopped calling me all morning.” 

“Well, if that’s the case, then you already know what’s going on, don’t you?” Melanie huffed out, with an unintentional bitterness as leave it to her dad to spread her business around like wildfire. 

“I didn’t say I answered,” Mike retorted humorously, watching as Melanie failed at stopping her mouth from curling upwards — he knew that would get her. He cocked his head to the side, giving her arm a gentle nudge, “Let’s go, you can tell me all about it once you’ve seen some fish.” 

“I do like seeing the fish,” Melanie exhaled fondly, catching the subtle smile of agreement that crept up on Mike’s face as even though he preferred exploring caves and finding shiny treasure in the sand when they’d dive together, even he couldn’t deny that there was nothing more relaxing than fish watching. 

And so, after Melanie ducked into the foyer bathroom to clean herself up, as Mike made a point of telling her she looked like she was high, the two of them left the apartment building and headed straight for the aquarium.  

When they arrived, not a single employee, the security guard included, so much as batted an eye when Melanie and Mike strolled straight past the kiosk without stopping to buy a ticket. If anything, the only whispering double-take they gave each other at the ticket-less entrance was at seeing the two of them together. As for the past five years they’d only ever come to visit the sealife separately and oftentimes, when that happened, they would both miss passing each other by a split, painstakingly small second. 

It disappointed the staff each time they did. They’d all been secretly rooting for a M&M reunion for so long that it was honestly overwhelming to finally see them together again, and a few of them even teared up at the sight… Okay, one of them teared up, but that was only because she was an overly emotional person and would cry at anything even remotely heartwarming.

The rest of the staff just smiled fondly, having lost count of how many times they’d had to watch one twin head towards the exit whilst the other would come simultaneously strolling in through the entrance. It had grown exhausting by the fourth go around, so you could imagine how thrilled they were to finally change the metaphorical ‘ days without seeing the twins together’ board back down to zero as they watched them stroll amicably down the hallway towards the exhibits.

Let’s just hope it stays amicable and that they don’t end up finding one of them floating limbless in the shark tank later… Otherwise they’d have daddy Dodds stopping by and he wasn’t anywhere near as fun as his kids. 

And speaking of his kids… Having not said a single word to each other since they entered, Melanie and Mike continued to delve deeper through the aquarium tunnel as they headed towards their favourite exhibit, gazing briefly at the carefree fish swimming aimlessly above them rather than react to the blatantly obvious, yet happy, surprise that riddled each staff member they passed. 

Even the diver in the tunnel tank did a double take when he spotted them, causing a baby shark to accidentally knock him in the head with its tail as it swam seamlessly overhead, easily catching Melanie’s attention with it and making Mike jump when she gasped.

“Mikey, look,” She nudged him eagerly, pure wonderment clouding her face in a way that made Mike smile as she rushed towards the glass, her finger almost snapping with how hard she pressed against it. “Betty had her baby.” 

“Why am I not surprised that you know that?” Mike breathed out, following her over. He may have liked ocean life himself but he was nowhere nearable to identify certain mammals by family and honestly…he wouldn’t have put it past Melaine if she knew the family tree of every single creature inthe aquarium, not just Betty. “Also when did you name the shark?” 

“A few years ago,” Melanie shrugged, gazing up at the shark in question as she loomed almost hauntingly over their heads. “Trev let me dive with him back when Betty first got here, you know, to make sure she settled okay. And she was nervous at first, as most of them are but then all of a sudden she just sprang to life. Almost like she realised she was finally safe and then she just swam right up to me…booped me on the mask with her nose.” She booped Mike as she said it, making him scrunch his own nose up as it tickled beneath her touch. “Ever since then… she’s been Betty Boop.” 

“You are insane,” Mike laughed, yet he wasn’t surprised at all as she had names for literally everything. 

“I’ve been called that before,” Melanie agreed, carelessly. “But they need names, okay, you can’t just go around calling them by their species, it’s gonna get confusing.” 

“I thought… Betty,” Mike began reluctantly, as he couldn't believe he was calling a shark Betty. “Was the only lemon shark they had?”

“No, they have two. Well, three now,” Melanie said, backing up to the middle of the tunnel and rotating slowly as she searched around her. Her eyes scanned easily through all the sea life surrounding them, passing turtles, sting rays and all kinds of small fish until she finally spotted it, the second large lemon shark that swam right along the tank’s surface. “There…” She pointed, waiting until Mike’s eyes followed her finger and he nodded, “That’s Benny, he got here around about the same time as Betty.” 

“Why is he all scarred like that?” Mike asked curiously, his eyes narrowing as they trailed along the thick, ragged scars on the shark's underside.

“He got tangled up in a fishing net and dragged into the propellers of a fishing boat… An illegal fishing boat,” Melanie elaborated bluntly. She’d always hated illegal fishermen. “He was found by some divers off the coast of California and they called in a rescue team. He spent months in a specialised rehabilitation facility before they transferred him here.” 

“He can’t go back to the ocean?” 

Melanie shook her head, her voice saddening, “His injuries were too extensive he won’t survive out there on his own. But at least here he gets a chance.” 

“And a friend,” Mike added in amusement, “I’m sure he’ll be growing tired of you soon with how much you visit him.”  

“You shut up, he loves me,” Melanie defended, making Mike huff out a laugh and shake his head as she went back to staring in awe at the shark in question. “He always comes looking for me when he knows I’m here.” 

“Okay, Mrs Brody,” Mike muttered sarcastically, making her frown as she glanced over her shoulder to glare at him. He then wiped the smile from his face, his features shifting as he tilted his head, easily telling Melanie that it was time to get down to the real reason as to why they were here.

And with a defeated sigh Melanie agreed, she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer and so she hopped down from the bench, hesitantly motioning for him to lead the way towards the cafe, which just so happened to look directly into their favourite exhibit.

The coral reef.   

The two of them could spend hours, alone or together, simply gazing into the reef from their seat. Allowing the peaceful atmosphere to drown the world out entirely as they studied the fish, watching as they weaved their way through the tubes and tunnels, twisting and turning through the coral like a child going down the slide at a waterpark. 

If they were lucky, they’d even get to see the octopus that often lurked around the reef, camouflaged and hidden amongst one of the small coves and almost invisible, did you not know the signs to look out for. And given that the twins very much knew what to look out for, they alway spotted old Hank skulking across the reef easily, often looking for the best place to settle in for his afternoon nap. 

“You want something to drink?” Mike asked, as the two of them stepped into the relatively quiet cafe and headed for the table in the corner — the one that was always reserved specifically for them. 

“Anything but coffee,” Melanie said with a partial chuckle, one that was more like a wisp of breath that escaped when she sunk down into her seat, feeling a small weight lift from her feet as hadn’t realised how tired she was. 

As Mike nodded briefly then headed towards the counter to grab them something, Melanie turned her head and fixed her gaze to the vibrant, colourful reef that surrounded them. She could already spot about four different species of fish swimming idly throughout it, swirling and swaying as they all but put on a show — her favourite show as she could sit there for days and never get bored.

The first one she noticed was everyone’s favourite: the clownfish, popping playfully in and out of its anemone with its little fin swishing away happily. Next was a large, dark brown sweetlip who was just casually floating slowly by, his big beady eyes scanning the area for the perfect crustacean for dinner. There were even a handful of angel fish, who always looked so grumpy all the time despite living in one of the most magical places Melanie could think of. 

If it were possible, she’d swap her legs for a tail and move to the ocean in a heartbeat, but unfortunately for her there were no evil sea witches living on land so unless she could hijack a submarine to go find herself one, she had no choice but to stick with her stupid shore legs. 

“Here you go,” Mike’s sudden, and almost apologetic for doing so, voice pulled Melanie from her dreams of living as a mermaid and she turned to him. He rolled his lips together, setting a glass in front of her and watching as she drew her narrowing eyes slowly down to see what he was trying his hardest not to smile about. “You said no coffee.” 

“So you got me…diabetes instead?” Melanie questioned, gesturing towards the extravagant milkshake he’d just placed in front of her. It was chocolate, naturally, with the top piled high with whipped cream which was then smothered with a thick, chocolate syrup and sprinkled with extra chocolate flakes. “I feel ill just looking at it.” 

“Oh please,” Mike scoffed, settling swiftly in his seat with a simple cup of coffee for himself. “I once saw you eat half a chocolate cake in one sitting, then fifteen minutes go back for the rest.” 

“It was a small cake,” Melanie said in defence, yet she drew her tongue knowingly across her teeth as it had not been a small cake, and she was well aware of that. Nevertheless she frowned, waving it off with her hand, “Whatever, just leave me alone.” 

Amused, Mike laughed quietly into his mug as he took a sip, watching as Melanie eyed her milkshake suspiciously as she slowly began to stir it with her straw. He knew she’d like it, she was the biggest sweet tooth he knew and the chocolate cake story had not been a dramatic exaggeration. She had actually eaten the entire thing herself, and still had room for a bag of M&M’s afterwards so it was no surprise to him that when she eventually sipped cautiously at the drink, she perked up visibly the moment it reached her tongue.

“Now that you’ve…fed, so to speak,” Mike began, tilting his head a little from side to side as Melanie glared over her glass at him. “Are you gonna tell me why you lost your gun or do I need to call dad back?” 

With a look that said you wouldn’t dare, which in turn got a response that said try me, Melanie let out a deeply peeved sigh and leaned back, running her fingers through her hair as she pondered the best place to start. From the beginning, obviously, she thought to herself. Where else would you start if not there? And in this instance, in this mess of a situation she’d found herself in, the beginning would be none other than the push-in rapist/Terrance Reynolds case. It had been the very first domino to fall in the chain of events that followed, therefore Melanie came to the easy conclusion that that was the best place to start. 

And with that in mind she then sucked in a breath and before she knew it, had the words tumbling out of her mouth so fast that she didn’t get a chance to go over them in her head beforehand. She couldn’t even hear most of what she was saying due to her heart beating inside her ears, but she knew from Mike’s reaction that she was telling him everything. And by everything she meant everything. She literally told him, word for word, exactly what she’d said at the grand jury — which she was fairly certain might have been a crime… Maybe. Or if not, then it was at least frowned upon and could get her into a lot of trouble should anyone find out she’d talked about it. 

Not that they would find out, as she and Mike had a twin bond that was basically like a priest's confessional meaning neither of them were allowed to say anything about what the other one had told them in confidence. They’d even used it in court a few times, and obviously they didn’t say it aloud to anyone, but they have willingly perjured themselves to the point where they should be in jail for life simply because they didn’t want to break an unspoken law between twins. 

But anyway, crime committing aside, Melanie still told Mike everything — well, almost everything. 

As much as she trusted her brother not to spill the beans to anyone, she couldn’t risk telling him about Barba. She didn’t want to take the chance that he’d accidentally mention in passing that the ADA once stopped by her house to ask her to testify for him, therefore she purposely left out every single thing relating to Rafael Barba. She didn’t even call him by name either, as she couldn’t trust herself not to blush just thinking of him. And whilst most people wouldn’t pick up on the small detail of her scarlet flushing cheeks, Mike definitely would and she really didn’t want to divert the conversation to the dumpster fire that was her attempt at a love life.

Instead, she breezed easily past their ‘ Would they? Won’t they?’ moments and moved swiftly on to describing her confrontation with Campesi in great detail. She mentioned how it started…how it played out…how it ended, and whilst Mike wasn’t thrilled to hear about his sister getting hurt, the only thing that truly shocked him about the entire situation, besides Melanie’s comeback at Campesi — which honestly he was rather proud of her for — was the simple fact that Campesi had left the stairwell alive. That little detail blew his mind extensively, as attacking Melanie whilst her back was turned? Sneaking up on her when she didn’t expect it? Well, even he knew better than to do that and he was genuinely surprised that she hadn’t pulled her gun and shot Campesi dead right where she stood.

“Now she’s claiming you attacked her?” Mike asked, taking a sip of his coffee as Melanie nodded, happily slurping away at the milkshake she ‘ felt ill looking at’ through her straw. “What did dad say?” 

“He said he knows that I didn’t do it, but Tucker?” Melanie scoffed distastefully, “I tell him I have no alibi and that automatically makes me guilty.”

“There’s seriously not a single person who can vouch for your whereabouts?” Mike asked in disbelief, causing Melanie’s gaze to fall as she began picking at the already chipped polish on her nails. His eyes drew narrow, suspicion circling him as he studied her, watching the small flecks of polish lift from her nails and land on the table.

Curious, he thought to himself. She only ever did that when she was truly anxious about something, and he was beginning to suspect that there were a few details she was purposely leaving out of her story. He then leaned forward, resting his arms on the table as his voice grew firm, yet taunting,

“Mellie, I know you’re hiding something…”

A sharp, annoyance filled huff left Melanie’s nose before he could finish, her fingers now tapping anxiously at the tabletop as she did nothing but stare menacingly towards him, her jaw twitching as she watched the blatant smugness roll noticeably over his face at how quickly he’d figured her out. The bastard. He always did like to gloat when he caught her in a lie, but honestly, it was no fault but her own. After all these years, she should have known better than to try to lie to him whenever he already knew all of her tells, nail polish picking correctly being one of them. 

It was even so bad that, to this day , the two of them still weren’t allowed to play Poker together. As they were always able to tell when the other one was bluffing, which only ever led to threats of physical violence and extensive search history on how to properly throw cards. 

“Fine, you got me,” Melanie grumbled sarcastically, mentally calling him an asshole and finding herself greatly amused when he glared at her as though he’d heard her. She let out a breath, leaning back against her chair and pausing momentarily to watch a tiny little surgeonfish float by. “I just… I don’t want IAB, or dad, to know where I was, alright, that’s all.” 

“Why not?” Mike asked curiously, yet he was almost worried to hear her answer as lord knows what could come fumbling out of her mouth. “Where could you have possibly been that’s so bad it's worth getting framed for assault?” 

“It's not where I was. It’s… It’s who I was with,” Melanie mumbled, feeling her cheeks already start to heat up and she hadn’t even thought about Barba yet. She sucked in a nervous breath, letting it out slowly as she reluctantly drew her eyes back over to meet him. “I was with… a guy, okay? For the whole night.” 

Oh, thank God, Mike thought to himself. The way she was acting, all shady and secretive, he’d half expected her to tell him that she was off doing something illegal, like assaulting someone else somewhere in the city. Or perhaps even committing arson, or something equally as heinous as that. But no. Turns out, she had been with a guy ! Of all the nerve-wracking, it’s time to flee the country, scenarios he’d been imagining in his head, she had literally been off getting laid somewhere. 

Talk about a relief. 

“So you were with a guy,” Mike shrugged, “Who cares? It’s not like dad still thinks you’re a virgin.” 

Melanie frowned, “What a lovely thought, Michael, thank you.” 

Mike chuckled, “I’m just saying, it’s not like he’s gonna care if you were off getting laid somewhere when it could help clear you for the assault.” 

“But that’s the thing, though, I wasn’t getting anything… Other than hammered,” Melanie added quickly, and with a shameless tilt of her head that didn’t surprise Mike one bit. She then leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table before running her hand over her chin, her tone growing serious, “But if I tell dad…” She shuddered at the mere notion. “If I tell IAB that I was passed out drunk in this guy's bed an hour before the supposed attack then they’re just going to assume that I was getting laid and I can’t have that.” 

“Why not?” Mike questioned, his intrigue sparking at the obvious way in which Melanie’s cheeks slowly began to redden. That was strange. If she didn’t sleep with him… Then what the hell was causing her to blush so much? “Are you that embarrassed for a handful of people to think you were having sex even if it could save your career?”  

“It wouldn’t save my career,” Melanie said bluntly, “If anything it would make things worse as this wasn’t just any guy, Mikey, this was… He’s…” God, she didn’t even want to say it out loud over fear of it travelling, but she knew she had to. Mike wouldn’t give up till he’d all but beat it out of her, and so she gave in, confessing quietly, “I work with him.” 

“Ah,” Mike exhaled, nodding. Now the blushing made sense... Sort of. “Is it your partner?”

Melanie shook her head timidly, widening her eyes as though she were trying to tell him who it was without actually having to tell him. And he seemed to get that. He always did pick up what she was so subtly putting down and as the realisation slowly kicked in, Mike’s brow began to lift on his forehead. 

“He’s not a cop?” He mused, hearing Melanie hum in a half-assed agreement before she went back to picking at her nail polish.  

Now this was interesting, Mike thought to himself. If the guy wasn’t a cop, and if Melanie was this against telling IAB the truth then he had to be someone much higher up the food chain and that didn’t really leave him with many professions left in the small circle of those it could be. 

Was it… a judge, maybe? Was that who his sister was fretting about? Some guy with a robe and a gavel? Surely not. Mike knew best of all that Melanie hated most judges, and they themselves were openly inclined, if not happy, to reciprocate those feelings given how many times she’d been held in contempt of court so it couldn’t be that… Could it? 

“Jesus, Mikey, I’m not seeing a judge.”

“Stay out of my head,” Mike said bluntly, hearing Melanie chuckle smugly into her milkshake. “And hang on, I thought you said you weren’t seeing him.”

“I’m not,” Melanie said quickly, chewing at her straw as she added, in a mumble, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

Ah-ah , now the blushing made more sense, Mike thought to himself, his eyebrow raising curiously as he went right back to pondering this wannabe lover-boy’s profession. 

It wasn’t a judge, okay, that much he should have known, but by the subtle gleam in her eye when she spoke he could tell he was on the right path. Defense attorney, perhaps? It was possible… There were relatively attractive ones floating about and they were Melanie’s type after all, right down to the suit, the tie and the briefcase. But honestly, that just seemed even more unlikely than a judge given how frequently, and how many of them, Melanie had gotten herself into trouble over because she’d threatened them…

Yeah, it wasn’t a defence attorney and that really only left him with a prosecutor…if he was even on the right path. Which, honestly, he was starting to think he wasn’t as last he’d heard, SVU’s ADA was a woman and unless Melanie had come out in the last five years, he was fairly certain that she didn’t swing that way. 

“Will you please just tell me who it is?” Mike finally said, a deeply fed up sigh leaving his lips over his failure at sussing things out. “I’m getting a headache.” 

“I can’t,” Melanie whispered, making Mike frown as after all that… She still wasn’t going to tell him? Rude . “But it doesn’t really matter who he is, okay? The only thing that truly matters is that if IAB even so much as thinks we’re seeing each other then it could rain a lot of heat down on him.” 

“And on you,” Mike added, as she seemed to be forgetting about herself in this little scenario. “You could get in trouble too, Mellie, not just him.” 

“I know, but the thing is… I don’t really care about myself right now,” Melanie confessed, holding up her hand to silence Mike when his mouth opened as she knew what he was going to say. “ Not in that way. I just…” She swallowed thickly, forcing back the lump that was slowly rising in her throat over the truth as to what was really holding her back from Barba. “I’m worried about how it’ll look for him . He's a reputable guy, you know, with an important job and a really, really great future ahead of him and I’m just… Well, me.” 

“What’s wrong with being you?” 

“Nothing’s wrong with it, I like being who I am…”

“Then what’s the problem?” Mike asked, his brows knitting together tightly as for the first time in his life… he was barely grasping at the straws of what she was getting to. 

“The problem is that he's a respectable — a respected member of the community, whereas me?” She gestured to herself with a delusional scoff. “I’m about as far from respected as can be, I mean… Just look at my record. It shows that I’m nothing more than a reckless detective with way too many dings for disorderly conduct. Major anger issues that always land her and those around her in hot water… Not to mention my untreated ADHD. That’s a whole problem in and of itself and it gets me in way more trouble than I like to let on.”

“Okay listen,” Mike said, bringing his hands to his chin, as though praying for the strength he’d need in order to unravel this string. “I’m gonna get to everything you just said but for the moment… And please, if you could refrain from attacking me…”

“I can’t guarantee that, but go on.” 

Nervously, Mike cleared his throat, “Maybe… And I’m just saying this as a possible solution to your problem. But maybe you should think about taking those meds Dr Simmons prescribed for you.” 

“You shut your mouth,” Melanie said immediately, clearly offended and Mike even leaned back in his seat in case she tried to lunge at him for simply suggesting it, “I’m not taking those pills, okay, I like being like this.” 

“But you just said-“

“I know what I said,” Melanie snapped, her eyes then closing regrettably as she didn’t mean to come across so harshly. She just didn’t like thinking about this, but she knew if she kept it bottled up any longer then it would eventually break her. 

With a shallow, shuddering breath slipping past her lips, Melanie ran her hands up her face and into her hair, curling her fingers tightly around the softened strands beneath her touch. She lingered there for a moment, feeling the slight sting to her scalp and wishing she was able to rip the thoughts permanently from her mind. But unfortunately for her, things were never that easy and she simply couldn’t get rid of her fears that way. And so, after opening her now glistening eyes to see Mike’s patient, yet worry riddled, own staring back at her, she finally let go. 

Both physically, and emotionally. 

“I really like him, Mikey, and I’m pretty sure he likes me too but I just…” She took a breath, her eyes drifting towards the tank beside them. “I’m scared… I… I’m scared that if I let him in he's one day going to realise that he’s made a mistake.”

“Have you talked to him about any of this?” Mike asked, his voice soft as he tried his hardest not to openly show his sympathy, as he knew Melanie hated being pitied. 

“No,” Melanie said plainly, her blurring eyes remaining focused on a small clown fish that swam in circles beside her head. “And it’s going to stay that way as I’d like to keep what’s left of my dignity.”

“Even if it means repressing your feelings for him?” And going down for assault, Mike added mentally, as something told him Melanie didn’t need that added reminder right now. 

“Yes.” 

“Because that’s healthy,” He muttered, yet he was unsurprised to say the least. 

“It’s not as simple as you’re making it out to be,” Melaine said, finally turning back to face him and wiping at her eyes. Again. God, they were really working her today, weren’t they? “There are other… factors involved here too, okay, it’s not just me.”

“Isn’t it?” Mike questioned doubtfully, his firm tone taking Melanie by surprise. But he couldn’t help it. He didn’t like seeing his sister so worked up over something so…stupid, honestly, “You’re saying this isn’t just you doing the exact same thing you always do when you want to avoid facing your feelings?” 

Melanie’s eyes narrowed almost angrily, “And what might that be?” 

“Making things more complicated for yourself... Imagining the worst possible scenario in your mind and simply sticking with it…” Mike said plainly, causing Melanie’s eyes to dart away from him, and totally not because he was right. “All because you don’t want to face the fact that what’s eating away inside of you might not be as bad as it seems.” 

“Okay, Dr Phil,” Melanie muttered sarcastically, as she couldn’t bring herself to answer properly. “When did you start giving lessons in psychology?” 

“When you started showing me you needed them.” 

“I do not.” 

“Don’t you? Cause from where I’m standing…”

“You’re sitting.” 

“From where I’m sitting, ” Mike corrected himself, annoyedly. “I can clearly see that the only reason you’re allowing yourself to suffer like this is because you’re afraid of what other people might think of you.” 

“I don’t care what they think of me,” Melanie spat, exhaling deeply again as God, she really didn’t know how to control her anger sometimes. “I care about what they think of him, alright, because like I said he’s…”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s respectable. I get it. And you’re worried you might damage his precious image…” Mike said, in such a condescending tone it caused Melanie to grit her teeth together. “But Mellie…” His tone then changed, growing softer and more brotherly, “Have you ever considered the possibility that maybe he doesn’t care about his image? And that maybe… The only thing he really cares about… is you?” 

When he put it like that, Melanie couldn’t ignore the sharp pain that pierced through her heart like an arrow at the sole idea of it. At the mere thought of herself being the one and only thing that Rafael Barba truly cared about. She’d considered it, of course she had, as the way he was with her… The way he acted around her…all flirty yet flustered, like a teenage girl around a cute boy, there was no doubt in her mind that he was crushing on her... Perhaps harder than she thought as it was only yesterday that he’d come running frantically into his bedroom at the sound of her screaming, having no clue, nor caring about whatever dangers might have lay beyond that door… not whilst she was behind it. He’d all but been ready to sacrifice himself to save her and if that didn’t scream I care about you then God knows what would. 

Even after it, when they’d been sitting on the couch and he’d been so gently tending to her wound, Melanie could see it. The way he touched her, so soft and so tender… The way he looked at her… The way he gazed at her, with such incredible fondness and such deep adoration in those glistening green eyes of his that she would be oblivious not to see it. It didn’t matter to her that he’d almost kissed her. That he’d almost allowed her to finally feel the caressing sensation of his lips on hers, Melanie could see, simply from the way he looked at her, that he was in love with her. 

Rafael was so madly in love with her and the worst part was… He’d never get to know that she loved him too, as no matter what… No matter how much it hurt to repress those feelings, there was nothing that her dad, or Carisi, or even Mike could say… that would ever convince her to admit that she did. 

<- Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 ->

tags: @the-nerd-dimension

[apomaro-mellow]

Original Post

Lil snippet I wrote before

Nancy watched as Robin perused the aisles and flipped through the books. How the rings on her fingers glinted in the light of the library. How would it feel to kiss those rings? And then those fingertips? Oh how she could-

“Earth to Wheeler? You’re supposed to be helping me graduate, remember?”, Eddie reminded her from across the table.

Nancy reluctantly turned her head away from Robin and cleared her throat. “That’s not all I’m helping you with”, she said.

“Can we not talk about this here?”

“Eddie. It could work.”

“Alright, I found it”, Robin said, using her stage whisper voice while holding up a book. “I’m checking out and then it’s off to work. See you two later.”

“Later”, Eddie waved.

“Bye”, Nancy said and she turned as Robin left, following her until she turned the corner to the check out desk. It was clear she had it bad. And if Eddie could, he would help. But the only way he could help was...

“If we do this, you should know I’m totally hopeless. Like, a lost cause.”

Nancy turned back to him and reflected on how she probably looked to other people. Dating well-known serial dater like Steve, then dating someone like Jonathan, and then dancing with someone like Dustin, and now she had her eyes set on Robin, who had prospects on her own merits, just not in the love department. After all, women didn’t get married.

“I’m used to lost causes”, she said. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t try.” Nancy cleared her throat. “Besides, you’ve got the easy part. I already know what Steve likes. Just follow my lead and he’ll be yours.”

It was a simple plan really. Once she got Steve and Eddie together, it would confirm that Steve had officially moved on. And once that happened, she could happily pursue Robin. Otherwise it would look awfully callous of her to go courting the best friend of her ex.

Eddie thought his biggest problems post-Vecna would be the angry mob. Or getting his GED. Turned out it was having his heart put on a tray for Steve Harrington to either rip apart or ignore. He didn’t know which was going to be worse.

“Alright, but let’s wait for a change of scenery to hatch our plan, yeah? I’d like to be done with high school before I’m thirty.”

“Understandable.”

---------------------

They met at Eddie’s place. His status, despite being cleared by the government, meant he was not welcome in the Wheeler home.

“So how’s this gonna work?”, Eddie asked. “Last I checked, Steve wasn’t into dudes.”

“Well...look at us”, Nancy said.

Eddie gave her a flat look. “The prep and the cult leader. What a picture we paint.”

Nancy groaned. “No, look.” She pulled him into the bathroom and gestured towards the mirror. “See?”

His eyes flicked towards her. “Are you trying to boost my confidence or flatten it? What am I looking for?”

“Eddie...you and I could be siblings. I mean you look like me more than Mike does.”

Eddie could see they both had curly, dark hair. And he supposed when he noted Nancy big, brown doe eyes, he could see that his were also rather dark and round. But besides that...

“I mean is your plan to put a push up bra on me and hope Steve doesn’t notice while you and Robin elope?”

“We’re not getting married. I’ve gotta ask her out first. Which I can’t do, until you bag Steve.”

She said it with such confidence and yet Eddie couldn’t imagine it.

“Would you like to hear my actual plan, or wallow in self doubt?”

Eddie would’ve preferred to wallow, he did. But he knew if he attempted, Nancy “Balls of Steel” Wheeler would’ve pulled him out of it. Like she helped to pull him out of the Upside Down when he was bleeding out. Like when she pulled him out of his trailer to help him get his diploma. And now she was pulling him to get his love life together.

Wait.

“Are we friends?”, he asked suddenly.

Nancy rolled her eyes. “Yes we’re-” She looked at him slowly, as if just realizing it for the first time, then smiled. “Yes Eddie. We’re friends. And friends help each other out~”

“I knew there was a catch.”

“Okay. I know you’ve got note-taking skills from that dungeons game”, Nancy said as she left the bathroom. “Take out a notebook and let’s get started.”

Part 2

[upsidedownlurker]

The most beautiful, awful Byler crackfic you'll ever read (11,253 words)

Karen Wheeler’s son sits in front of the mirror, dressed in the one black suit he wears to every formal event. His long, curly hair reaches down to his shoulders now that he’s eighteen, all gangly limbs and sharp features. So young and already getting married to his sweetie-pie; Mike reminded Karen of herself. 

Thankfully, the sexual repression seemed to have skipped a generation. Karen’s son, getting married to a woman! A woman! She never thought this day would come. 

Karen loomed over him, hand welded to his shoulder, brandishing her hair-straightener in her other hand like a pair of tongs. “Your hair’s all curly, Michael!” she lamented. “Here, let me straighten it out for you.”

“Seriously, Mom?” 

“What? ” she exclaimed, “It has to be straight for your wedding, Michael!”

“But it’s naturally curly.”

Click-clack went the straightener. Karen smiled, her eyes concerningly wide and her lips shining blood-red. “That can be fixed…” 

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!” 

“Ugh! Fine,” Karen said, placing the straightener down carefully and looking to her right. “Now, Ted–”

Ted didn’t look up from the 3-piece chicken combo he was gobbling down. 

“Ted!”

Ted smacked his fingers, happily enjoying his chicken. In response, Karen snatched his last remaining chicken leg and threw it to her right. It hit the mirror, exploding into bits of chicken-y shrapnel and leaving a trail of greasy slime over Mike’s reflection. Mike put his head in his hands. 

Karen continued. “Ted!” 

“What? My damn chicken, Karen–”

“Put your son’s tie on. Family tradition.”

“Fine.”

Ted meandered over to Mike. “Where’s your tie, son?” he grumbled, sticking his hands forward like some kind of greasy-fingered, chicken-chomping zombie.

Mike pulled his head from his hands, and upon witnessing the horrific sight, he immediately flinched away. “No…”

Meanwhile, Ted gazed longingly at his fallen chicken leg. “What is it now?”

“Just no!”

Mike pulled a tie from his pocket. It was hand-painted, covered in shields and hearts. He started to tie it himself, glaring up at Ted as he did so. “Dad, this tie is too precious for you to touch with your greasy chicken fingers.”

“They are not greasy chicken fingers, Michael.”

Karen sighed. “They are greasy chicken fingers, Ted.”

“Eh, whatever.” Ted grumbled, exasperated. After searching unsuccessfully for a place to wipe his greasy chicken fingers, he gave up and rubbed them all over his hair. 

“Better?”

“No!” Mike and Karen shrieked in tandem. Mike rolled his eyes and hastily finished tying his tie. He stroked a single finger over one of the hand-painted hearts and smiled softly. No wedding gift would ever top this. Meanwhile, Karen was reaching for her most precious hair-styling tool. 

“I’m proud of you, Michael,” Ted began, “and I’m still shocked my twink son is going to have a wife.”

Brandishing her beloved hair-straightener, Karen walked calmly towards Ted, unblinking. “Are you now, Theodore?”

“Woah, woah!” Ted started backing away, scared. “What’s this?”

“Theodore, your hair’s covered in chicken grease. It’s not straight anymore. I have to fix you.”

Ted sighed, and let his wife straighten him out again like usual. If only he had another 3-piece chicken combo to distract him. He turned to Mike.

“See what happens?” Ted grumbled. 

“What happens when what?” 

“When you deprive a man of his chicken.”

“What?”

Hair now completely straightened, Ted walked out of the room, mumbling something about crispy chicken skins and eleven secret herbs and spices. Karen put her hand on Mike’s shoulder. She smiled.

“I think it’s time for a photo, Mikey-Wikey.”

“OH FUCK!” Mike screamed as he bolted right out of the room.

Karen rolled her eyes. At least she had her hair straightener to keep her company. 

-

“Are you ready, El?” Will asked for the third time in the last twenty minutes. 

He had been pacing around the room for twelve minutes now. Meanwhile, Eleven was snuggled comfortably between Lucas and Max, the three of them sharing a blanket. El was already in her wedding gown, with her usual plaid shirt underneath. She saw no need to fuss over her appearance any more than necessary– hence, the snuggling. 

“Yeah,” El replied, very content with her current situation. Her brother, on the other hand, looked ready to pass out. “Are you ready, Will?”

“God, no. This could all go so horribly wrong.” He continued pacing. As he did so, the lights began to flicker and objects started floating around the room. Will groaned as the radio buzzed to life, playing a very familiar song by The Cure. “El, could you stop? This prank is getting old.”

Lucas, Max and El groaned. “Will,” lamented El, “I’ve been telling you this isn’t a prank for the past year.”

“Uh-huh,” said Will sceptically. “And I haven’t believed you for the past year. What is it, then, if it’s not a prank?”

“Will, I keep telling you, you have powers .”

“Which makes no sense.”

“Yes it obviously does!” 

“Yeah, sure,” Will said sarcastically, “Sure it does. And my ex-father has a big, gay crush on Ted Wh–”

Suddenly, Will gasped, reaching for the back of his ice-cold neck as all the objects in the room spun wildly out of control, then dropped to the floor. 

Just as they did, Ted Wheeler burst into the room, sweating and panting like a dog. He was followed closely by Mike, who slammed the door behind him, sliding all the way down and falling face-first onto the floor in a crumpled heap. Lucas and Max immediately covered El with the blanket, screeching, “Protect the bride! Protect the bride!”

Mike waved them away, still on the floor and too tired to care. Meanwhile, Ted was surveying the room. There were flowers, makeup, decorations and– food – lying all over the carpet, along with one Mike Wheeler. 

“Why’s all this stuff on the floor?” Ted questioned.

Will sighed, looking pointedly at El. “I have no idea, Mr. Wheeler.” The blanket started to float off of El’s head while he stared at her. “Probably a stupid prank.” As soon as Will looked away, the blanket plonked right back onto her head. 

“Oh my fucking God,” said Max into her hands. Lucas patted her shoulder while sending Will a withering look– but Ted wasn’t even paying attention. Instead, he was kneeling on the carpet, salivating over a KFC Go Bucket that had fallen over. 

“I’ll take this,” he said, hugging it to his chest like a baby and gleefully skipping out of the room. Meanwhile, Mike was still lying in the foetal position. He kept quietly repeating, “Chicken… straightener… tie… why?”

Will crouched next to him. “You okay?”

“No, Will, I’m not okay. I’m never gonna be okay!” Mike cried. “Why do they do this to me? Why do they want to see me suffer?” 

“I don’t know,” Will murmured soothingly, rubbing Mike’s back. 

“What did I do to deserve this batshit insanity, Will? What did I do?”

“I don’t know,” Will continued.

“Mother will never understand why I have to leave.” said Mike. 

“Mhm.”

“The answers I seek will never be found at home.” 

“Yeah.”

“I’ll leave in the morning with everything I own in a little black case–”

“Well, you’ve gotta marry El first.”

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Speaking of which–” Mike finally sat up to look in his soon-to-be wife’s direction. “You okay under there, El?”

El gave a cheerful thumbs up from beneath the blanket. “I am well.”

“Cool,” Mike said, looking directly at Will. 

-

The wedding officiant stepped up onto the stage, gazing into a very unique sea of faces. Teenagers, adults, an intense young woman with a sawed-off shotgun. She announced, “Welcome everybody, to the wedding of Michael Wheeler and Jane Eleanor Byers.” 

Scattered applause rang out from the crowd, as well as a single cheer from one curly-haired boy. Curiously, quite a few people were either smirking or making very interesting faces. Perhaps the marriage was controversial among the guests– understandable, given the two were so young. 

Really– they would soon be newlyweds, and they were both eighteen! From the officiant’s experience, the couples who got married early fell into two groups: 

Those who had truly found the love of their lives.

Those with very poor decision-making abilities. 

The officiant wondered which group Jane and Mike fell into. The latter was much more common than the former, although… there were always the lucky few. Perhaps she shouldn’t be so cynical. Nevertheless, she continued her introductory speech. “I must ask that everybody acts respectfully during the ceremony. This is a very special day for these young newlyweds.”

Snorting and muffled laughing erupted from the tables nearest to the front. The officiant was going to tell them off, until she saw who the main culprits were. It was Mike and Jane themselves. Jane leaned into Mike’s shoulder while she giggled, and Mike used his hands to muffle both of their laughter. After a moment, Jane was elbowed by a red-headed girl, and a boy with a bowl cut rolled his eyes. 

Finally, they shut up. 

The officiant continued her speech– the same introductory speech she’d given at practically every wedding she’d officiated over the past few years. Her lips moved on autopilot, on pure muscle memory. She wasn’t thinking about her words, because one question plagued her mind: 

What was so funny? All she said was that it was a special day. 

She wondered how long the giggling couple would last. Only time would tell. One thing the officiant knew for sure, was that she’d need a lot of alcohol to get through this night.

“Michael Wheeler, do you take Jane Eleanor Hopper to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

He froze. 

What was he supposed to say? 

Mike instinctively looked to his lifelong friend behind him. Will would certainly know what to do– and wow, he looked so dashing – his suit was fitted to reveal his muscles, golden rays of sunlight beamed across his face, and his gorgeous bowl-cut was lightly tousled by the breeze. His pretty lips opened, and Mike’s lovely view was unceremoniously shattered. 

“Mike! You’re the groom, remember? You’re the groom!” 

Mike looked to his expectant ‘sweetiepie’, then to Will again. Will mouthed, “I do,” gesturing wildly in El’s direction. 

Mike took a deep breath, and turned back around to El, putting on his sunglasses. He cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he said, accompanied by two thumbs-up. 

The officiant looked mortified. Still, she valiantly continued on.

“Do you, Jane Eleanor Hopper, take Michael Wheeler to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

Jane made eye contact with Max and immediately snorted, hiding a giggle behind her palm. “Yes,” she said eventually. 

After a lengthy silence and an awkward cough from Dustin, scattered applause burst from the crowd. Except for Ted Wheeler, who was making heart-eyes at the large box of popcorn chicken in his lap. 

“Great!” said the officiant enthusiastically, like a Kindergarten teacher who had just been informed that her student had finally learned to use the potty. “You may now kiss the bride.”

“Great,” said Mike unenthusiastically, staring at Eleven. 

“Great,” Eleven said with an equal lack of enthusiasm. She looked back at Max and Lucas, who motioned frantically for her to lean forward. 

Eleven leaned forward. 

Mike leaned back. 

Eleven leaned forward. 

Mike leaned back. 

Eleven leaned forward. 

Mike leaned back too quickly this time, and he would’ve fallen over if Will hadn’t caught him in his big, strong arms. Wrapping his own arms around Will’s neck, Mike felt a flurry of butterflies erupt from his chest and a blush form on his face– Man, Will truly was a man’s best Best Man best friend. Man. 

“Wow,” Mike breathed, before darting forward to briefly smooch Eleven on the lips. 

Eleven tried to put a hand on Mike’s face, but he shook it off. 

“Mm, no.” He said. 

There was a pause. The room was silent. Then, Eleven smiled. “That was sufficient,” she said, “Goodbye.” 

Eleven pushed Mike away and walked nonchalantly off the altar.

The officiant looked like she’d just witnessed her house get sucked up by a tornado. “Congratulations!” she said with every last shred of enthusiasm left in her tired body. 

As scattered, half-hearted applause erupted again, Will addressed Mike. “Do you want me to put you down now?”

“No,” Mike said, taking off his sunglasses to look him in his pretty eyes. 

Shrugging, Will carried Mike away. Meanwhile, El linked arms with Max and Lucas and they stepped down the altar together, away from any prying eyes. “Do you think they bought it?”

“Oh, absolutely,” said Max, “You said the kiss was ‘sufficient’, Mike let you put your hands on his face for a fraction of a second… No-one suspects a thing!”

Eleven couldn’t tell whether Max was being sarcastic or not. “Bitchin’,” she said, not a care in the world. 

Lucas snorted. “Toooootally tubular,” he said loudly in a Valleygirl accent. 

The three walked away together. 

Still left standing on the stage, the officiant was dumbfounded. How could she even begin to question what was going on here? She hadn’t even told them to leave the stage yet. They didn’t even leave the stage together. They were escorted off by the best man, the maid of honour and the flower-boy. 

What the actual fuck?

The officiant sighed. She needed a drink. To the open bar!

-

After everything was said and done, Ted Wheeler immediately made a beeline for the all-you-can-eat buffet. One section in particular: the fried chicken.

He was grabbing handfuls of chicken and shoving them onto his plate, when he met another person’s hand in the middle. It was soaking wet, stained with fried chicken crumbs, dripping car grease and beer. Ted looked up, and was awestruck by the familiar face he saw. 

“Lonnie? Lonnie Byers?”

Lonnie chuckled. “The one and only.”

“What are you doing at the buffet?”

“Same as you, of course. I’ve been craving some–”

“Fried chicken?” Ted interrupted. 

Lonnie gasped, mesmerised by the magical man in front of him. “How’d you know?”

Ted pointed to the colossal pile of fried chicken sticking out of Lonnie’s pants. “Is that fried chicken in your pants, or are you just happy to see me?”

“Why not both?” Lonnie winked. 

The two chuckled. While Lonnie was distracted, Ted reached his hand into his pants and pulled out a piece of fried chicken. 

Lonnie continued. “Hey, there’s only one guy I know who likes fried chicken as much as I do. You’re Ted Wheeler, aren’t you?”

“The one and only.”

“What do you say we take all this chicken somewhere… private?”

Ted Wheeler smirked. 

-

The officiant wanted to cry as she watched two middle-aged men in stained white singlets shove fried chicken down their pants. What happened to society? What had the world come to? She speedwalked past them, just wanting to get to the bar. 

She had never wanted a drink this desperately in her life. Not when she witnessed a little girl steal five boxes of Eggos from the grocery store. Not when she lost her jazzercise studio to a freak mall fire. Not even when her lying ex-husband Todd claimed his sports car was stolen by a strange man in a Hawaiian shirt and his slushie-loving, child-murdering Russian hostage. 

She divorced him, naturally, although she always regretted it. 

She had rebuilt her life over the course of a few years. The officiant had taken her job in order to move past her strange traumas, to help people find love and happiness, to reinvigorate her hope in humanity. 

Now she was wondering whether humanity was really worth it anymore. 

She collapsed onto a bar stool, banging her head repeatedly on the counter. The bartender, a balding man with funky glasses, long hair and a beard, looked at her expectantly. 

“What’s the strongest thing ya got?” She asked. 

“Well,” the bartender said slowly, “We have rubbing alcohol and bleach in the back–”

“PLEASE. I’LL TAKE ANYTHING.”

“...I was joking. You know that would kill you, right?” There was a silence as the officiant stared at him blankly, her head still resting on the counter. He continued, “You know that would kill you, right?” 

The officiant lifted her head off the counter and stared directly and unblinkingly into his eyes, as though she could project all her pain and desperation into his soul via telepathy. It’s a shame superpowers weren’t real. Distantly, she heard laughter and the sound of a bowl clattering to the floor. 

“Okay,” the bartender said shortly. “I am going to pour us some vodka, and you are going to tell me your troubles so I can read you like the intelligent, sane psychoanalyst bartender I am. Sound good?”

“Mhm.”

A moment later, the bartender reappeared with several very generous shots of vodka in hand. The officiant took two and downed them. “I’m Liz, by the way,” she said.

“Okay, Liz,” replied the barman. “So a series of strange traumas led up to you and your ex-husband’s divorce, you became a wedding officiant all because you believed it would finally reawaken the love in your soul again, only for you to be blindsided by the insanity you witnessed during this very ceremony. Now you don’t know what to believe anymore, you’re questioning every decision you’ve ever made that has led you to this point, and you’re seriously regretting your divorce.” 

“How– how–? ” 

But Liz received no answer. Instead, Liz took three more shots of vodka and promptly fell face-first into the bar. 

“Another successful analysis,” said the bartender to himself. “Nice job, Murray Bauman, you’ve really outdone yourself this time!”

Then he ninja-jumped over the counter and skipped away.  

“BY THE WAY,” he shouted over his shoulder, “I’M NOT A BARTENDER!”

Liz wanted to cry. Instead, she fell off her stool. Lying on the ground, she groaned, “Todd…” Then she passed out.

Murray cackled. 

-

“Will, let me go!”

Will’s chuckling turned to hearty laughter, “No! You said you didn’t want me to put you down!”

“Well I’m saying it now!” Mike exclaimed through his hands. 

“And I’m saying no!” 

Will began to spin them both around, unknowingly drifting them right into the buffet table. They were both laughing, but not for long– they hit the empty fried chicken platter first, and as Will spun Mike again, a bowl of fruit clattered to the floor. Shocked, Will let go and Mike dropped to the ground. 

“Ow,” Mike groaned, placing a hand tenderly to his tailbone where he fell onto it, “Oh, I’m gonna destroy you, Byers.”

Fruit surrounds him, strewn about the floor like a juicy massacre. Mike gathered the fruit in his hands and Will started backing away, but he was too late, because Mike was throwing it at him. It hit him right in the face, making a glorious splatter as bits of fruit land all over the place. There was strawberry in his hair, banana slices on his suit, and grapes tumbling to the ground. 

Will’s mouth hung open in shock as fruit dripped down his face. He flicked most of the moisture off his hands and wiped them on his suit. Then, he looked right at Mike. “You. Will. Pay.”

Soon, Will was chasing Mike across the hall. Platters of food floated into the air as he ran past them, before clattering down onto the floor. If anyone noticed, they didn’t seem to give a shit.

Karen Wheeler stared at Mike and Will as they chased each other through the hall. She wasn’t paying attention to the surrounding area, just watching the boys dart and weave and dodge each other. 

She wanted to say something, but to whom? Ted was gone, Joyce was occupied with Hopper, and Nancy was occupied with her gun. Karen reached into her handbag and pulled out her hair straightener. She walked to the most desolate corner of the room, ensuring nobody could see her. 

“Hair straightener,” she asked quietly, “I can tell you anything, right?”

She twitched her hand, and the straightener nodded.

“Mm. You remember Michael, my son?”

“It’s been years,” said the straightener as Karen’s hand twitched again. “But I remember the boy. Such curly hair.” 

“Yes, he takes after me. It’s a shame he won’t let me straighten it anymore.”

“A real shame,” said the straightener.

“Yes,” said Karen. She looked behind her, where the boys were done running, now standing against the wall chatting idly. “That Byers boy has such lovely, straight hair. What a shame it’s covered in… fruit .”

“Fruity indeed.” 

“What do you say, H.S.? Shall I take you for one last ride?”

“Karen, I’d be honoured.” 

“Perfect, time to–”

“Karen,” said a grouchy voice behind her, “I’m going to… is that your hair straightener?”

Karen startled then spun around, clutching H.S. to her chest like a precious gem. Breathing hard, Karen replied, “Yep.”

“Me and Lonnie are gonna get some more food,” he said, nodding towards the buffet table. All the food seemed to have inexplicably been flung everywhere, as though it had floated around for a few seconds before dropping unceremoniously onto the floor. Picky eaters, probably.

“Have fun,” said Karen, but Ted was already walking away. 

“Oh, we will,” said the straightener. 

“Yes, H.S. We will.” Lightning struck outside, and the lights flickered. Karen cackled with glee.

-

Dustin, Lucas, Max, El, Jonathan and Nancy were standing together by the buffet table, chilling out. They each had a fruity cocktail in their hands, which they were sipping periodically - besides Dustin, Lucas and El, who were drinking straight whiskey.  

Mike and Will ran across the hall, platters clattering around them. As they slowed down and walked towards the door of the venue, they all watched, indifferent. Except Dustin of course, who looked like he had just seen Vecna voguing on the dance floor. 

Eleven chugged the last of her whiskey. “I am going to get a better drink. Perhaps one of those cocktails with fruit. Goodbye.”

After she left, Dustin looked around to check if anyone else was listening. “So…” he began, “Anyone else think it’s weird that the bride and groom are just… not hanging out at all on their wedding night?”

Immediately there was a chorus of No’s and Obviously Not’s . 

“WHAT?” He shrieked, voice cracking. “So… so you’re telling me everything that happened here today is an example of a completely normal, healthy relationship? You don’t see anything strange about…” Dustin gestured wildly across the room, “ALL OF THIS?” 

Now the others looked confused.

“We didn’t say that,” added Nancy. 

“Obviously it’s weird and abnormal,” Max said. “But Mike and El are, you know…”

Dustin squinted, his upper lip curling as he tried to figure out what he was apparently supposed to know. 

Max’s eyes widened. “YOU KNOW.” She gesticulated wildly to emphasise her point.

“No, I don’t know.”

“...What?” Max’s voice had dropped to the quietest whisper Dustin had ever heard come from her mouth. 

“I don’t know.”

Max looked at everyone else in the group, clearly panicked. They were too. Dustin was getting more confused by the second. He asked, “What was I supposed to know?”

Dead. 

Silence. 

Jonathan shook his head, loudly asking, “You didn’t tell Dustin?!”

Max turned to him, “No that was your job!”

Nancy said, “No, no, we never agreed to that. You and Lucas were gonna do it, remember?”

“Shit, shit, shit…”

Lucas sighed, “Yeah, we were gonna do it, but we couldn’t find the right time, and you said if we didn’t tell him, you would!”

“Okay, but you had to tell us you didn’t tell him before we would–”

Dustin groaned. “Oh my God, stop! What was I supposed to know?”

-

Mike and Will had exited the venue, giggling and snorting the whole way. They needed a private place to hang out, just the two of them. They looked through the car park, until one particular vehicle caught Will’s eye. 

As Mike and Will broke into Lonnie’s car, cackling gleefully, they both heard a noise from far away. It was a loud, long, voice-cracking, shrieking, “WHAT?!” But just as abruptly as it had started, it was suddenly cut off, as though someone had put a hand over whatever was making that blood-curdling noise.

“What the hell was that?” Mike asked through the cackling.

“It sounded like Dustin.”

“Huh. You think something’s wrong?”

“Nah. I’m sure it’s fine. Quick, let’s get in.”

“Cool.”

-

Jonathan and Nancy chatted idly by the buffet table, watching Lucas, Max, and El, and Dustin where they were seated on the floor. Dustin was in the middle of them, looking harrowed, as El patted his back. He took a tentative sip of her cocktail. 

“Hey, that’s pretty good.”

El grinned. “Right?”

“I’m never drinking straight whiskey again.”

“Did you not like the whiskey? You do not have to give it up if you enjoy it.”

“It tasted like ass, El…” Dustin bemoaned, “But like… good ass.” Then he burst into tears. 

Lucas patted his back. “There, there. It’s ok, buddy.”

“You still like whiskey, right, Lucas?”

“Clearly,” Lucas replied, holding up the full glass in his hand.

“Ok,” Dustin panted, wiping his eyes. “So I’m not the only one. Cool. That’s fine. Everything is fine.”

Max patted his back. “I like whiskey too, you know.”

“Ok… that’s… also fine. Everything is absolutely 100% okay and I’m totally fine.” Then he burst into tears again. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL MEEEEE?!”

-

Jonathan turned to Nancy. “So, the fruity cocktails are a metaphor for homosexuality, right?”

“Definitely,” she replied. 

“Cool.”

-

“Let’s go eat our delectable chicken carcasses in my car, Ted,” Lonnie had said. “No-one will bother us there.”

But when Lonnie and Ted arrived at the spot where Lonnie’s car was supposed to be parked… it was floating. The fucking car was floating in the fucking air like fucking magic, what the fuck?

“My fucking car–” said Lonnie.

“It’s floating in the fucking air–” said Ted.

“Like fucking magic– said Lonnie.

“What the fuuuuuuck–?” They said at the exact same time. 

Ted smirked. “Welp, I guess we’ll have to find a different vehicle to perform our depraved acts of chicken consumption in.”

“I guess so,” replied Lonnie. “Hey! Look at that car over there!”

Lonnie was pointing in the direction of a cream-coloured sports car with its roof up and a number-plate which read ‘TODFTHR2’. 

“You think Todd will mind if we borrow his car for a bit?” said Ted. 

“He never has to know,” replied Lonnie. 

The two middle-aged men high-fived, then linked arms and skipped towards the vehicle, giggling the whole way. 

-

Meanwhile, seven metres above the ground of the parking lot, Mike and Will broke away from their makeout session. Mike lifted his hands from where they had been tangled in his boyfriend’s glorious, fruity bowlcut. 

“That giggle,” whispered Mike, “Did you hear that?”

“Ew, yeah, it sounded like Lonnie,” Will whispered back, grimacing.

“No, no, no,” said Mike, “it sounded like my Dad .”

Mike and Will shared a confused look, and the car wobbled in the air for a second, but stayed floating. Hearing no more giggling, they went back to making out. 

-

Now in Todd’s car, they shared the KFC Go Bucket that Ted had saved hours earlier. Lonnie and Ted reached for the same piece of chicken, and their hands touched, sending warm tingling sensations down each of their fingertips. Instead of moving away, they both tentatively grasped onto the chicken tighter, their fingers linking together. Ted moved his hand up. Lonnie moved his hand up. Soon, the last piece of fried chicken was level with both of their mouths. 

Ted and Lonnie looked each other in the eyes. Ted raised an eyebrow, Lonnie winked, and soon they were biting the chicken leg decadently from both sides. 

“Mm,” said Lonnie, his mouth full of greasy white meat.

“Mm-mm,” said Ted, words muffled by what he was swallowing down.

They chomped into the chicken like it was their last meal (and who knows, it might have been). Soon, they were both licking the bones clean. 

Lonnie looked up from the chicken leg. “You know, this is the first time I’ve eaten chicken with another man before…”

Ted raised his eyebrows, shocked. “I had no clue.”

“Well, I used to eat it with the ol’ ex-wife, but it was never…”

“Enough?”

“Yeah…” Lonnie gazed into the empty KFC bucket in thought. “How’d you know?”

“When my wife would cook chicken for me, I’d eat it. Savour it, even. But it was never enough for me, Lonnie. I was always thinking about eating it with…”

“With…”

“Do you remember back in high school, when we–”

“When we shared that KFC family meal?” Ted nodded enthusiastically, grinning from ear to ear. Lonnie continued, “God, I’ll never forget it, Ted. A day hasn’t gone by when I haven’t thought about it at least once. It was the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Ted gasped. “Me too! Vacations, promotions, getting married, having three kids… none of it compared to the fried chicken we shared together, Lonnie. None of it.”

“You mean that?”

“I really do.”

Lonnie shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe it. All this time, I was eating chicken with woman after woman– when I could’ve been eating fried chicken with you. We could have been eating it–”

“Together,” finished Ted, gazing longingly at the empty bucket between them. 

“TOGETHER!” The two men yelled. 

In the distance, a car crashed seven metres to the ground. 

-

Lonnie’s car was flaming, but Mike and Will paid no mind; they were too busy dying inside. 

“Holy shit,” Mike panicked, “Holy shit.”

“Together,” Will blurted out, “they yelled ‘together’, Mike.”

“Oh my God, Will. That’s my actual Dad. And your actual ex-Dad.”

“They said it together !”

“I bet they’re together–”

“Are they together?”

“What, like, togethe-together?”

“...Would that make us step-brothers?”

“NO.” Mike shook Will’s shoulders. “NO, WILL, NO. NO! NO! FUCK NO. FUCK THAT. FUCK YOU.”

“Gladly.”

Mike snorted. “Fuck off.”

The boys stepped out of the now-flaming car wreckage and watched their fathers from a distance. Whatever was happening in that cream-coloured sports car had the potential to scar them for life. And yet, they persisted on: they had to see what their fathers were up to. 

-

Suddenly, Lonnie brought his hand to Ted’s chin and their eyes locked together. “Ted, I have a stupid idea. One of the craziest ideas I’ve ever had, besides planning to cover up my psychic son’s kidnapping for cash using a fake body designed by the lab I was in cahoots with.”

“Tell me,” said Ted.

“Do you wanna run away together?”

Ted put his hand on Lonnie’s shoulder. “We could go to every KFC in the state.”

Lonnie grinned and put his other hand on Ted’s. “Every KFC in the country.”

“And we could move to a farm, raise chickens of our own–”

“And kill them ruthlessly with no remorse–”

“Then slather them in grease and breadcrumbs–”

“And eleven secret herbs and spices.”

Ted laughed, “Yes, I’ll go with you! In fact, why don’t we go right now?”

Lonnie reluctantly took his hands off of Ted and turned his keys in the ignition, moving his hands to the steering wheel. “But won’t your wife and kids notice?”

“Ah, fuck ‘em. They’ll survive without me, I’ve barely talked to them in years.”

Lonnie cackled. “My man!”

“No,” Ted whispered tenderly, “My man.”

After a second’s pause, the two men touched hand-to-hand, nose-to-nose, and both Lonnie and Ted spoke. “Our man.”

Lonnie reluctantly moved away, ready to accelerate him and Ted into their crispy, chickeny destiny, but before he could, there was a knock at his window.

He looked, and the first thing he noticed was the bowl cut. 

Ah, shit. It was his gay, gay son. 

There was a knock on Ted’s window, too. Ted looked, and saw–

Ah, shit. It was his gay, gay son.

Both boys started speaking, but they were completely inaudible through Todd’s thick, glass windows. Ted leaned to Lonnie. “Mind rolling down the windows, my man?”

Lonnie sighed. “Fine, my manly man-man. I’ll roll down the windows so we can find out what our gay, gay, homosexual, gay, homosexual sons are blabbing about now.”

He rolled the windows down, terribly slowly, Mike and Will’s expressions withering more and more until it was done.

Mike and Will spoke at the same time, “Dad… you guys are together, aren’t you?”

Lonnie and Ted replied at the same time, “We’re in this car together, yes.”

“No,” Mike and Will continued at the same time, “Are you together together?”

Lonnie and Ted both went pale, gasped, and said, “TOGETHER? WHAT, LIKE SOME KIND OF HOMO? LIKE SOME KIND OF HOMOSEXUAL GAY HOMO?”

“Like a couple.”

“A COUPLE OF GAYS????!??!?!?!?!?”

Mike and Will rolled their eyes and sighed, exasperated. “YES, DAD, A COUPLE OF GAYS. ARE YOU A COUPLE OF GAYS.”

“No,” the chicken-loving buddies replied together, “We simply have a deep, soul-reaching bond that we have developed through a mutual love of KFC fried chicken. Any latent homoeroticism is purely coincidental.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, I’m sure it’ll come true eventually.”

There was silence for a moment. Nobody quite knew what to say. Then, Ted and Lonnie both spoke at the same time–

“What about you boys?”

Mike and Will’s eyes widened, “What?”

“That’s why you came out here, isn’t it? To eat crispy fried chicken together in a beautiful, purely coincidentally homoerotic expression of love?”

“No… we came out here to make out with each other in a beautiful, incredibly purposeful homosexual expression of love. That’s why we thought you two were out here.”

“EWWWW!” Ted and Lonnie yelled, “YOU BOYS LIKE BOYS ? GROSS! YUCKY! EWWWWWW! NO-NO-NO! ME NO LIKEY–”

Will willed a brick to fly through the driver’s side window frame and hit Lonnie on the head, knocking him out. 

“Huh, I guess I do have powers. Alright then.”

“I’m just glad he shut up for once,” Mike said, “Annoying shit.”

There was another silence. Ted furrowed his eyebrows, thinking more than he had thought in decades. “Wait,” he began, “So you’re telling me… my mega-gay homo twink son… was an actual homo this whole time?”

“Yep,” Mike replied.

“I see”, said Ted. Then, he clicked his tongue. “You’re a disappointment, son… just like your father. Well done.”

“Wait,” Mike exclaimed, “So you are gay!”

“No, just a disappointment like you.”

“But you and Lonnie?”

“We’re chicken-loving gal pals, son, that’s all.”

“Hoy fucking shit. Okay. Great. I’m so glad you and your gal pal LONNIE BYERS can eat your CHICKEN TOGETHER. Just drive away, please.”

“I’m proud of you, son,” said Ted, a single tear rolling down his face– wait, no, it was just grease from the chicken.

“Don’t be proud of me, Dad. That’s the worst thing you could’ve said to me.”

“Good, I was lying.”

“Thank fuck.”

Suddenly, Lonnie woke up. 

“Hey, Willy.”

Will turned his back to Lonnie, screamed in frustration, making every window in a 50 kilometre radius explode, then turned back, a strained smile on his face. “Yes, father dearest?”

“You’re straight, right? This was just another one of those funny little dungeon stories of yours, right?”

“No, Dad, I’m gay.”

“You’re… gay as in happy? Happy to be straight?”

“No Dad, gay as in gay.”

“Not even a little bit straight?”

“NO, DAD. I AM GAY. G-A-Y. I LIKE MEN. HOMOSEXUALLY.”

“Oh…” he thought for a moment, then looked at Mike, “And you’re one of those homosexuals too?”

“Um. Yes. I am also a homosexual.”

“Okay. Right.”

A smile slowly started to spread across Lonnie’s face. Will’s eyes widened. Could it be? He was… happy? His father, who had spent years tormenting him for the way he perceived his sexuality… this man was… happy? He was grinning, a wide-eyed, crazy grin that stretched across his face. Lonnie opened his mouth–

“See you in hell, homos!” He slammed his foot on the accelerator, and they were off, leaving only the smoky smell of KFC in their wake. 

Mike walked over to Will and tapped him on the shoulder as they watched their former fathers drive off into the sunset. “Hey,” said Mike, “Does Lonnie know he’s headed straight for that flaming, bottomless wormhole from our final battle with the Upside Down?”

“Nope,” said Will, smiling serenely.

“Ah, fuck ‘em.”

“Yeah, they can burn in hell.”

Then they made out again, ignoring the distant screaming and the smell of burnt chicken. 

-

“Liz?” Todd yelled as he ran straight into the wedding hall. 

Oh God, this was such a horrible idea. Liz was nowhere to be found, the wedding patrons were staring at him, there was a vicious-looking young woman with a sawed-off shotgun pointed right in his direction, and worst of all: there was no more fried chicken left. 

If he was Liz, where would he be?

Judging by the crowd gathered here tonight, that woman would be trying to drown her existential sorrows in alcohol by now… 

Of course!

Todd headed straight for the open bar, but when he got there it was empty. No-one to be found. Another dud– what kind of bar doesn’t have a bartender? He was about to walk away when a strange man came running up to him. He was balding, with groovy glasses, long, dark hair and a beard. 

“I’M HERE! I’M HERE, JUST YOUR USUAL BARTENDER READY TO TEND SOME BARS.”

Todd grinned and sat down on the barstool. The table in front of him was covered in shot glasses, vodka and drool– but that didn’t matter, the bartender was here!

“What can I getcha?” said the bartender. 

“Have you seen a woman named Liz around? She’s the wedding officiant here, always smiling, loves vodka…”

“Two of those things were definitely true. Yes, I’ve seen her… but let’s talk about you.”

“What’s there to talk about? I’ve really gotta find Liz–”

“Here, have some vodka. Helps you think, maybe you’ll even figure out where your Lizzy is. In the meantime, I must do some Murraying.”

“Murraying? What is that?”

“Nothing, just a little psychoanalysis. Now, let’s see here…”

The bartender leaned forward, squinting. He took his glasses off, rubbed his eyes, and put them back on again. There was a pause. “Oh.”

“What?” 

“That’s strange. I’ve got nothing.” The bartender looked completely thrown off. “No struggles, no ulterior motives or deep-seated sexual repression… Just a regular guy. All you want is to find Liz and drive out of here in your beige sports car.”

“How do you know I have a sports car?”

“You tell me, Toddfather.”

“Just tell me where to find my ex-wife, man.”

“Alright, fine, you wanna know where Liz is? Last I saw her, she was passed out at this very bar. So I dragged her unconscious body onto that bench outside. With a blanket. For safety.”

“WHAT THE FUCK? OKAY, THANK YOU, BYE!”

“Goodbye, Toddfather. Goodbye,” Murray whispered, a single tear streaming down his face. “My Murraying is finally complete.”

Todd ran as fast as he could, faster than he’d ever run before. He needed to get to Liz, needed to find her again and explain everything–

He burst through the back doors of the wedding venue, and right there on the bench, wrapped in a blanket was Liz. She blinked groggily, turning her head in his direction, before doing a triple-take and falling right onto the ground, like some kind of pathetic caterpillar woman.

That was the Liz he knew and loved. 

“Liz!” Todd shouted, hastily kneeling on the ground beside her and cradling her blanket-wrapped body in his arms. “Are you okay?”

“Todd? I thought… I thought I’d never see you again,” she hiccuped. 

“Well, you did tell me that you never want me to see you again.”

“Yeah, I did, didn’t I? I’m so sowwy, pwease fowgive me?”

“Liz, of course I forgive you. Everybody’s car gets hijacked now and again, and everybody gets called a liar by their wife of ten years, divorced, then kicked out onto the street every once in a while. It wasn’t your fault.” 

Liz smiles and hugs him. “You’re welcome to come back anytime, Todd. If you want to, that is.”

Todd chuckles. “I want to do more than just live with you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I want to have babies with you, Liz. I wanna be a Toddfather.”

“Yes, a million times yes!”

“Great! We’ll have those six little nuggets we always wanted…”

“Of course Todd, that’s–”

“The best part of the Happy Meal,” they said together. 

Liz smiled, a single tear dripping down her face. “I love you.”

Todd grinned, a single tear dripping down his face. “I love you more.”

And like two magnets propelled together, Todd and Liz embraced for the first time in too long. Liz’s tired, jaded exterior wore away immediately, and Todd didn’t even care that his second cream-coloured sports car was being driven straight into some kind of hell-void by two chicken-obsessed men. He had his Liz back, and that’s all that mattered. 

The screaming was pretty annoying, though. 

Murray looked behind him, checking that he hadn’t been followed. As he slipped into the storage closet, he noticed that the man he had locked inside hours ago was still screaming. Or, trying to; the duct tape took care of most of his efforts. 

“Jeez, shut up already!” Murray rolled his eyes, “I told you I was going to let you go. Just had to take your place as bartender to do some Murraying, you know how it goes.”

The man shook his head frantically, a single tear streaming down his face and onto his neat all-black suit; an odd contrast to his curly, dirty-blond mullet. 

“Fine, I’ll take the duct-tape off,” Murray said. “I’m done now, anyways.”

Just as he said, Murray ripped the duct tape off (and a few barely-there moustache hairs). But something was wrong. The man, who had seemingly just been screaming for his life now had a blank expression on his face. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, Murray.” A small smile edged at the corners of the bartender’s mouth. 

Murray rolled his eyes. “Get out of here with that cryptic crap. I am a black belt in karate. I have taken down countless Russians. I will not hesitate to take you down as well, now get out of this closet.”

He opened up the door and the man stepped out immediately, practically running away from Murray and in the direction of the main hall. Suddenly, the bartender turned around. “Oh yeah,” he called out, grinning. “I was never the bartender. Check the fuckin’ freezer, detective !”

With that sinister remark, he was off, and Murray was beginning to regret his cool dismissal. 

Should he run after the curly-haired impostor, or check the freezer? Option one was long gone, but option two was just a few feet away. Freezer it was. Murray strode over to the freezer, opened up the heavy sliding door, and blinked hard. 

Inside was a terrified-looking young man with his wrists and ankles tied, shivering violently in the cold of the freezer. His hair was neatly combed, and Murray realised that all-black suit wouldn’t have looked out of place on him; given that everything but his underclothes seemed to have been missing, that wasn’t much of a stretch. 

Murray quickly helped the actual bartender out of the freezer, and as he took one last look before shutting the door, he saw something. Lying on the ground was a white tank top, covered in dried blood and meat. 

Now that he thought about it, the guy had looked kind of familiar. Curly, dirty-blonde mullet. Barely-there moustache. Bloody tank top. Meat monster. 

That red-headed girl, Max. Didn’t she have a brother? 

Shiiit. 

-

Karen was alone. Well– except for her beloved H.S. 

Her hair straightener had never let her down, not like everybody else at this wretched wedding. She couldn’t even find it in herself to be happy that her clearly homosexual son was getting married to a woman. Normally she’d be overjoyed that her boy was following in his mother’s footsteps, but today she was furious. 

She had half a mind to chat up the wedding officiant and get married to her hair straightener instead– but she had a better idea. 

Karen had been married to Ted for years, but it was clear neither had feelings for the other. From the moment they met in high school, when Karen plonked herself down on top of the pile of KFC between him and Lonnie, and asked Ted to go out with her… from that moment, she knew their heterosexual union was merely a homosexual disguise. 

They had kids together, they had a life, but that didn’t stop Karen’s true feelings. That didn’t stop the urges. Karen knew what she had to do, once and for all. 

Her heels click-clacked against the floor of the room as she made a beeline for Joyce Byers, who was talking to Jim Hopper. Joyce Byers, her old companion. The reason she sought out Ted in the first place. 

Karen was right on the verge of every scourging urge she surged to purge.  

She hesitated for a second– Was she really going to risk everything for a chance to revive a pitiful lesbian romance that had been dead for decades?

“Oh, fuck it,” Karen whispered to herself. Judging by the screams and the smell of burning chicken that wafted in from outside, Ted had clearly left to revive his own homoerotic relationship with Lonnie; it was either this, or nothing. 

“Joyce Byers,” she proclaimed, tapping the woman on her shoulder.

Joyce turned around, her lovely, wavy hair spinning with her, a polite expression on her lovely face. “Oh, Karen! It’s been a while. How are you?”

“Joyce Byers,” Karen repeated. Then she laughed, a long laugh, a laugh so long it was starting to make Joyce and Hopper visibly uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?” Classic Joyce, ever so lovely, ever so caring.

“Joyce Byers, I want you to be my wife.”

Joyce’s eyes grew wide, then softened as a quaint, queer expression quirked across her face. “Oh… I’m sorry Karen, I can’t.”

Karen’s stomach dropped to the floor, and she started hyperventilating. “But– but you’re a godless homosexual, like me! I’m your only hope for happiness!”

“No, Karen. I’m not a godless homosexual– I’m a godless bisexual , and I’m with Hop now. I’ve already found happiness with my beautiful bisexual hubby-wubby. You should’ve asked me a decade ago. I’m sorry, I really am.”

Karen’s eyes flashed red with murderous intent. A smile crept across her face, disguising her rage and torment behind bleached-white, perfect teeth. “Oh, that’s okay. Hey, what’s that over there?”

“What’s what?” Joyce said, as she and Hopper’s gaze followed where Karen’s finger was pointed. 

Karen immediately grabbed Joyce by the back of the head at lightning speed, pulled her hair down and straightened it in a flash. 

“Holy shit! My hair!” Joyce shrieked, “Karen, what the fuck? WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK, KAREN??? KAREN?!?!??!?!!?”

But Karen didn’t reply. Her rage, torment and fractured hope had been brewing into a toxic mixture inside her for some time now, and now it was bubbling up– in the form of laughter. 

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!” Karen cackled with glee, “GET STRAIGHTENED, BITCH!”

“Get my ex-husband’s name out your fucking mouth!” Joyce bellowed in reply. Then she slapped Karen in the face, knocking her to the ground. Karen was soon scampering off into the crowd of clueless wedding patrons. 

“Hop!” Joyce elbowed him lightly in the ribs, “Why didn’t you do anything?”

Hopper turned around to face his wife, eyebrows furrowed. “I couldn’t see what Karen was pointing at… Wait, did you do something different with your hair?”

Joyce sighed, just happy Karen had left. “Nothing much, Hop.”

Then Joyce and Hopper kissed, hehehehehe. Kissy-kissy. Mwah. Mmmmmmmmm. Kiss. KISS. KISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. 

Karen was about to run outside and cry, until she spied Dustin’s mother by herself, picking up what was left from the buffet table. She speedwalked towards her, only one mission on her mind– but she was too slow. 

Dustin’s mother screamed, ran towards her son (who was still being patted on the back by Lucas, Max and El) and hid behind him, shivering. “Never again,” she whispered, memories of click-clacking hair straighteners echoing in her mind.

“Goddammnit!” Karen yelled, click-clacking her hair straightener in fury. She then scampered outside on all-fours, leaving a room full of weary wedding patrons in her wake. They all seemed to make the decision together; this whole wedding was the most confusing mess they’d ever attended, and they wanted to witness every last bit of this horrific trainwreck. 

So, they followed. Every last patron. Including a certain undead curly-haired bastard, who hadn’t been invited. 

Karen sat on the steps of the venue, sighing wistfully every ten seconds. A few metres away, the wedding officiant was wrapped in a blanket and snogging some guy in a beige suit. Just ahead of her, Karen’s clearly gay son was making out with Joyce’s clearly gay son next to The Fiery Wormhole, in which her now ex-husband was finally burning into a crisp along with his sweet, lovable friend Lonnie. 

Everyone had someone, it seemed. Everyone except Karen. 

Karen flashed back to the time she had been the most happy. At the pool, with the gals, trying to impress the lifeguards. One in particular. She never did get to go on that date…

Karen sighed for the forty-second time in seven minutes. She really did miss him. “Golly gee, H.S.” she lamented. “Where’s an eighteen-year-old lifeguard with a mullet when you need him?”

“RIGHT HERE MRS. WHEELER!” said Billy, rising from the ground, covered in dirt, with half the flesh on his face melted off and chunks of his torso missing. Eek!!! So dreamy and cute!!! 

“Actually, I’m not Mrs. Wheeler anymore. I’m just Karen now,” she corrects. “Karen Creel.” 

Billy laughed as a centipede crawled out of his mouth and into his missing eye. “Woah, like that crazy murder family? That’s hot, Mrs. Creeler.” 

“Totally,” she said, standing up. Karen ripped her dress off to reveal a blue and pink bathing suit. “You know, I never stopped wearing it, Billy… not for–” 

“353 days?” said Billy. 

Karen nodded, tears welling in her eyes. 

“I know,” he replied. “I’ve been watching you from the mind of your dead, telekinetic brother, Henry.” 

“That’s hot,” she replied. “Wanna marry me, eighteen-year-old undead lifeguard?”

“I really do, Mrs. Creely-Weely. I really, really do.”

“Ok,” said Karen, shrugging. She and Billy walked off into the sunset, holding hands. Suddenly, they were both knocked to the floor by something– or someone– who had just burst from the ground. 

“PICK ME, KAREN!” Yelled Bob Newby, holding up a sign that said, “Pick me, Joyce!”

Will finally stopped making out with Mike for long enough to whisper, “Bob?” 

Bob looked towards Will and paled. “Aw rats,” he growled. “No, I’m not Bob.” Not-Bob’s face shifted violently, and he rose from the ground further, revealing a horrific yet familiar body. 

“Vecna?” Will whispered.

“Wait, what?” Mike exclaimed, finally looking away from Will. “VECNA?”

“Yeahhhhhhh. Sorry, kid,” Not-Bob-Actually-Vecna admitted sheepishly. “Ya got me. I survived the fiery bottomless pit, and… I had to take my chances with your Mum.”

Mike nodded, just happy that Vecna had apparently stopped wanting to destroy the world, and not wanting to get into any more epic battles.

Meanwhile, Will was flabbergasted. 

“BUT HOW DID YOU SURVIVE THE FIERY BOTTOMLESS PIT? IT’S BOTTOMLESS!”

“Well…” Vecna began. But before he could continue, Karen spoke. “Billy… Not-Bob-Actually-Vecna… I have made my decision.” 

She sighed, a new record for most amount of sighing in one fanfiction. “I’ve looked at all my options and I’ve decided… My hair straightener is my one true love. She’s always been there for me, through thick and thin hair… and she’s beautiful. I’M GOING TO MARRY MY HAIR STRAIGHTENER.”

Karen walked confidently over to Todd and Liz, and ripped them apart. “HEY, LIZARD McWEDDINGOFFICIANT!”

Liz gasped, “How did you know my full, legal name?”

“I need you to pronounce us wife and wife,” she said, gesturing to her and H.S.

“Okay, fuck. Uh, Karen and hair straightener, you’re now wife and wife. Go kiss or whatever.”

Karen took Liz’s words seriously, because she and H.S. began to perform something that can only be described as a burning, passionate, kiss-adjacent war crime.

Vecna watched on, sad but intrigued by the display. Billy watched on. Smirking, he said, “That’s hot… really hot… OH GOD I’M BURNING ALIVE!!!!!!!!”  

The wedding patrons had all stepped outside by now, including Murray, who had just smashed a molotov cocktail over Billy’s head. As Billy ran around screaming, Will took the opportunity to break away from Mike and telekinetically throw Vecna into the sun. Damn, having superpowers would’ve made defeating that guy a whole lot easier. 

As Billy continued to run around, everyone began to realise that he wasn’t the only one screaming. There were multiple screams emanating from the fiery bottomless pit… and they were growing louder. 

“Will,” whispered Mike, “Doesn’t that sound like…?”

“I hope not, but I think it is…” Will muttered gravely. 

The crowd watched on as the screams grew louder, and the smell of crispy, smoky, horrifically burnt chicken emanated from the bottomless pit. 

It couldn’t be. 

A crackling, sloshing sound filled the air– a familiar sound that hadn’t been heard since the Starcourt mall fire of 1985. 

It couldn’t be.

The screaming turned to groaning, a painful, horrible groan. “CHHHHHHHHKNNNNNNNN…” the pit-monster bellowed.

It was. 

Every wedding patron in that room had been scarred by years of disaster and torment, but nothing prepared them for what they were about to see. 

Crawling out of the fiery pit of hell was none other than Ted Wheeler and Lonnie Byers. But it wasn’t just the two of them. They had formed a meaty, chickeny, amorphous blob of flesh and fire. The stench was horrific.

-

Meanwhile, on the surface of the Sun, with a pair of indestructible binoculars, Vecna giggled as he watched the whole thing with glee. He knew it was possible for a meat monster to be made without his control… but nobody else was controlling this thing, either. It was sentient; its own beautifully horrific creature. The Meat Monster 2.0.

-

“CHICKENNNNNNN…” The Meat Monster 2.0 growled, low, pained and bellowing. 

The monster quickly made its way to a discarded KFC bucket that had fallen close to the pit. It instantly scarfed down all the crumbs and bones that were once inside. 

“Yum,” said the Ted half of the monster. “Alright Lonnie, should we get going again?”

“Yep,” said the Lonnie half of the monster. “Now that little detour’s out of the way.”

“Okay,” said Will. “Okay. Alright. What the hell is going on here?” 

“Oh, hi again kid,” said the Meat Monster 2.0. “Don’t mind us, we’re gonna go ransack every KFC in the state. See ya.”

“HOLD ON.” Said Will, the last fragments of his sanity about to wither into dust. “HOW THE HELL DID YOU CLIMB OUT OF THAT THING?”

The Meat Monster 2.0 chuckled. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“NO, IT’S NOT, THAT’S WHY I’M ASKING YOU. HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET OUT OF THE BOTTOMLESS WORMHOLE?”

“Because it’s a bottomless wormhole… and we’re both bottoms.”

Will was not okay. 

“DOG FUCKINIG DAMMNNITN!!!!!! ASDJHFGAKSFG!!!!!! FUCKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!”

Meanwhile, Mike was intrigued. “Wait, does that mean Vecna’s a bottom?”

Will was too stunned to speak.

-

Billy stared at the beautifully horrific, strangely familiar creature that was standing in front of him. He was no longer screaming, despite the flames that were still sizzling over his body. The flames didn’t matter, because this thing was wayyy hotter. 

“Hey gorgeous,” he smirked, “Wanna go out?”

“Ooh,” the Meat Monster 2.0 said, “Sure thing, pretty lady.”

“I’m not a lady.”

“What? But you have long hair… Sorry pretty not-lady, we can’t go out with you.”

“What do you mean?” Billy was puzzled. “Aren’t you, y’know… a couple of meat-loving meat-men?”

“Only when it comes to chicken.”

“But aren’t you together?” Exclaimed Billy, thoroughly confused. 

Ted and Lonnie shook their horrific, meaty heads. “Ummm, we’re both straight. We’re just straight… together .”

“Hey, kid,” said Billy, looking directly towards Will, who had finally stopped screaming and started crying.

“WHATTTTTTT?” Will wailed woefully.

“Mind flinging me into the sun?”

“Fine, whatever.”

-

Will half-heartedly flung Billy into the sun, where he landed directly on top of Vecna. “Hello, handsome,” he said. 

“Uhh…” Vecna looked sheepish as he pushed Billy off his slimy body. A trail of heavy, sizzling footsteps made their way to the pair. Billy looked up, to see an oddly familiar face standing above him. 

“Sorry, sir,” the man said. “He’s taken.”

“Aw, rats. Sorry about that, Eddie,” Billy apologised. “Hey Vecna, mind flinging me back down?”

“Sure thing, Billiam. Have fun down there!”

-

Billy landed directly on top of Karen, squashing her. She immediately died. Oops.

“NO!” Billy screamed, “NOOOO!” He sobbed, hugging her flattened body. “THE ONLY REASON I CAME BACK TO LIFE WAS TO GO ON THAT DATE WITH YOU… AND NOW… IT SHALL NEVER BE! I’D RATHER DIEEEEEEE.”

So, he died, exploding flesh and centipedes everywhere. The wedding guests were covered in it. They kept watching, though, eyes glued to whatever the fuck was happening.

Billy was dead.

Then, Karen woke up. 

“Oh, hey Billy. Sorry, you killed me for a second there. I’m back though.”

She looked down. In her hand was H.S., completely smashed to pieces. Her beloved, illegally newlywed wife was dead. Splatted onto her lap were the bloody remnants of Billy’s clothes. 

For some reason, she felt the urge to reach into his pocket. 

She did, and found…

“Oh my God. A date.” Karen began to sob, tears streaming down her still-squashed face as she cupped the withered, sun-dried fruit in her withered, blood-moistened hands. “We finally did it Billy… we got our date…”

Her life was complete; there was nothing left to live for. 

Karen Creel was dead. 

A pause. 

One second. 

Two seconds. 

Three seconds. 

The gobsmacked crowd burst into a round of applause, cheering and crying. Never before had they experienced something so raw. So beautiful. So centipede-infested. A few of them had dropped dead as well, a combination of the shock and the stench proving too much for their brains to comprehend. The rest of them would be forever scarred, never able to sleep again, lest the images of burning flesh explode and cascade across their vision in a fiery orange rain of tragedy. 

“Look, Will, they’re cheering,” said Mike.

“Huh. I mean, if they’re fine with watching flesh, blood and hellfire rain from the skies and splatter them with unforgettable horrors beyond comprehension… then I guess they won’t mind if we kiss a little.”

“Yeah, it’s only logical.”

So, Mike and Will made out for a bit… until they realised that the cheers had grown oddly silent.

The bartender was the first to speak. “Wait…” he said, still shivering and blue from being locked in the freezer for four hours. “THOSE TWINKS ARE FUCKIN’ HOMOS???????”

“Ah, shit,” muttered Mike.

“THAT’S GREAT!” The bartender continued. 

“Phew,” breathed Will. 

“BECAUSE NOW,” said the bartender, “WE KNOW WHO TO BLAME FOR THIS!”

“Goddamnit”, groaned Mike.

“THIS INCREDIBLE, LIFE-CHANGING EXPERIENCE!”

“Aww,” said Will.

“AN EXPERIENCE THAT HAS BRUTALLY SCARRED THE MINDS OF EVERY PERSON IN THIS CROWD AND RUINED US FOREVER.”

“FUCKING HELL,” yelled Mike, “DO YOU ACCEPT US OR NOT?”

The bartender jumped, eyebrows raised. “I thought I made myself clear.”

Mike replied, “You absolutely didn’t.”

“Well,” continued the bartender, “I think that’s for the audience to decide for themselves.”

“WHAT AUDIENCE?!” Mike yelled. “WHAT?!”

The bartender just laughed, before announcing, “ROLL CREDITS!”

“No,” muttered Mike, “No no no no no.”

But before he could do anything else, Murray produced another molotov cocktail from his pocket and smashed it over the bartender’s head. Combined with the man’s already freezing body temperature, this created a small explosion that further covered the guests of the wedding in bits of flesh. They didn’t mind at that point.

“Good riddance,” said Murray. “Anyway, you kids are alright by me.”

Usually when Murray liked something, it was very, very concerning. But Mike and Will were touched by this; both had expected to be immediately outcast for their relationship. For one person– just one person – to accept them… it meant the world. Even if he was a strange bastard who had literally just killed a man.

Mike and Will looked to the crowd, who seemed unsure. Suddenly, Liz and Todd stood up, still hugging. Todd cleared his throat. “These two homosexual harlots may have lied to us all, but… Murray likes them. And Murray is the wonderful man who saved my relationship with Lizard McWeddingOfficiant, the woman who kicked me out of my house and destroyed my life a second time after several of the guests at this godforsaken wedding already destroyed it the first time.”

Mike sighed. “Is that good or bad?”

“I dunno”, said Todd. “This whole day has been screwed up, just like the rest of my life. So… I guess that means being gay is normal.”

“Yeah!” Said Liz enthusiastically. “They reawakened my desire for love, indirectly, through their weird, balding friend!” Then Liz and Todd started making out again. 

“Greaaat,” said Murray unenthusiastically. “Excellent points, folks. Very well done.”

The crowd, still covered in meaty, fleshy gunk, was still unsure. 

“But wait…” said one guest, “This Byers/Wheeler relationship… Byler, if you will… it’s just not realistic for this time period. I mean, I know we’re all covered in crawling centipedes and the flesh of the people we just watched die in front of our eyes, and I know we’ve just witnessed horrors beyond our comprehension, but… I dunno. Something about these gay, gay, gay boys just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Yeah,” said a few people in the crowd, tentative to express their opinions. 

“I see,” said Murray. “Who else feels this way?”

“Me,” said one person in the crowd. “I mean, Mike and Eleven have been together since they were kids! They just got married and expressed their love to each other in a beautiful way… sure, it was a little awkward, and they didn’t seem to want to kiss each other, and when I was watching them from the bushes with my binoculars, I noticed they were a lot happier when they were broken up… but that doesn’t matter. They’re Mike and Eleven! They’re meant to be!”

“Yeah!” exclaimed another person. “Plus, Michelangelo and William are two boys. Two manly, manly boys who like girls. Boys just don’t belong together.”

The crowd looked to Murray, anxiously awaiting his response. 

“Okay, then. How about this; everyone who hates the idea of Mike and Will’s relationship, raise your hands.”

The few people who spoke did, as well as a few confused-looking guests. 

“Wait, who are you?” asked Will. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“Oh, I just stopped by. I didn’t pay attention to the wedding or anything. Actually, I don’t even know who you are. I just don’t like you.”

“Cool, sick, great.”

Murray looked at the crowd. “Alright, everyone with your hands up, walk forward…” he gestured to a spot in the carpark, separate from the others. “I’m disappointed in you,” he told them, “I really am. However, I’m out of molotov cocktails, so you all got lucky; I’m not gonna set you on fire today.”

They all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“But I know someone who can.” He quickly pulled out his walkie-talkie, yelling “BOYS, COME ON DOWN!”

Distantly, barely audible, someone screeched, “YOUR ASS IS GRASS, HOMESLICE!” 

There was no time to escape; no time to move; no time to blink. In an instant, two figures came rocketing in from the sky, hand-in-hand, both on fire, and they landed directly on top of the crowd in a massive crater. 

Smoke billowed through the air. Through the thick, grey fumes, two men stood up. The only ones who survived the crash; Vecna and Eddie. 

Eddie stepped forward. “Now that’s what I call a flaming homosexual.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Mike. “Okay Will, wanna go?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

“TO THE CITY!”

“RUN AWAYYYYYYY!”

Will used his newfound telekinetic powers to blast him and Mike across the country at infinite speed. Vecna and Eddie looked at each other, nodded, and blasted back into the sun. 

Meanwhile, behind the crowd of guests, Lucas, Max and El were comfortably seated together, on a couch, asleep. Dustin was sitting contently beside them, chatting on the phone with Suzie, whiskey in hand once more. Joyce and Hop looked at each other and said, “That’s our son. Our gay, telekinetic son.” Jonathan stared at Nancy with a concerned look on his face, as his girlfriend bit a chunk out of her shotgun. “I made it out of charcoal chicken”, she said. “In case I got hungry”. 

“Mind if I have a bite?” said Jonathan, drooling.

“Why not?” Nancy said. “Chicken is meant to be shared… just like our love. Now at KFC for only $4.99, you can get yourself a delicious Family Bucket of juicy fried chicken; just $4.99 for fifteen pieces of succulent, delectable fried chicken– I’m lovin’ it!”

“Nancy,” Jonathan whispered. “That’s the McDonald’s slogan.”

“What?” She whispered, true fear clearly visible behind her eyes.

Click.  

Murray was standing behind them, a real sawed-off shotgun in his hands. 

“Say that again. I dare you.”

“It’s… it’s…”

“IT’S FINGER LICKING GOOD!” Shouted Jonathan. Tears streamed from his eyes as he grabbed Nancy’s chicken-shotgun and took a mouth-watering, scrumptious bite. “It’s… finger-licking… good,” he sobbed. 

“Good,” said Murray. “Good… then my work here is done.”

He started to leave, and everyone in the crowd breathed a sigh of relief. Until he suddenly stopped, turning around again. 

“Oh yeah,” he grinned, “I almost forgot.” Murray took a bite out of his shotgun. “You’re not the only chicken-obsessed freaks in Hawkins.”

“Now, for $4.99,” said Murray, “You can get yourself a delicious Family Bucket of juicy fried chick–”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!” Will shrieked, flying into Murray at the speed of light, shattering him into pieces and splattering the crowd with even more flesh. “If ANY of you mention KFC to me EVER AGAIN, you’ll be next. Got it?”

Everyone nodded.

“Good.”

Will flew away, and Hawkins kept their word; they never uttered those dreaded three letters to one another ever again, lest they relive the worst day of their lives; the day of reckoning; the darkest wedding in Hawkins history; the day Will Byers snapped. 

Legend goes, if you stand in front of the mirror in the old, abandoned Byers house, and whisper, “KFC… KFC… KFC…” Will Byers will appear in your reflection, and when you’re finally found, they’ll never fully scrub you off the walls. 

Such is the legend of Hawkins, in which the strangest things are bound to happen. It’s finger-licking goasdkuvgjhSADJFHGABKSADHFGXABFYWGBXINWKFGXNKAEJWFGXABEKFGNXAKEUVYGFUCKINgFwkrjc3fgnejUCKWHATTHEFUCKNXEVUENXRUVYGNEKVUGXNEFGNEASUwefjhbcqknbfj3hYFXGNEAKFXYGNEKSFYGXNEKsfdmnbSRUHVXNEKSURHVGNSEKUHFGXNEKSURHFXGNESKUFHGXNEKUHFGNSKURFGXNEKSURFHXGNKEUFHGXNEKSUFGNXKERSUHGFKHafkwqh...................,,,,,,,,,///////////////////////////////////////////////oops

-

Hey guys, it’s me again, your narrator. I got splattered into a fleshy pile of meat for a second there. Sorry about that. Don’t worry, though; turns out KFC isn’t chicken at all. It’s just the batter, eleven secret herbs and spices, and the body parts of the unfortunate cretins who dared utter its name. I found that out when the colonel himself broke into my house to make me into KFC. I’m a ghost now. TOODLES. 

-

Yoooooo. If you made it to the end, I love you, please comment so I can congratulate you for surviving lol

[prince-simon]

AIGHT I thought DBD was gonna be a fun lil show. You have: two dead boys with AMAZING chemistry (I LOVE their different accents/slangs/outfits to reflect the times they're from), two living girls with AMAZING chemistry (deadass thought Crystal saw the lights around Niko because maybe she liked herrrrr and the lights were psychic related instead of LITERAL SPRITE INFESTATION), two wildly horny demons who I believe need to get it on and leave Crystal and Edwin alone please and thank you (David and the Cat King), TALKING CATS, a witch cosplaying as Cruella de Ville (I thought she was MURDERING her poor bird Monty!!!!), the cutest adorable most precious little astrology nerd I've EVER SEEN (the aforementioned Monty who wasn't a victim of animal abuse after all), a cursed walrus (still salty Edwin interrupted Tragic Mike's story of how he was cursed, I was INVESTED) OH AND A SUPERHOT BUTCHER LADY!!

ANYWAY this show was supposed to be fun. I watch Supernatural and yeah there were scary episodes but I can't think of anything as traumatic as the Devlin House episode! 😭 Just... watching the dad murder his poor family over and over was awful, seeing how affected Charles was broke my heart, the dad having a secret room to spy on his family was creepy and disturbing and OH MY FUCKING GOD?!?! THAT MISERY WRAITH?!?! I ALMOST THREW UP!! I NEARLY DIED!!! ABSOLUTELY AWFUL TERRIFYING 0/10 WOULD NOT RECOMMEND I NEVER WANT TO SEE IT AGAIN!!!!!

I can't wait to watch more DBD tonight!

PS sorry for the essay

okay okay first of all. i'm so excited about this ask. don't apologise haha i've got things to say!!! (i hopeee i'm not spoilering you for anything with this longgg reply lol)

the chemistry between all of them is soooo insane i'm so happy about it!! and yeah lol i think the entire fandom thought it was gay lights for crystal and niko lmao (and you know what? just bc it was parasitic lights who's to say it's not ALSO gay!! sksk i was spoilered about this particular thing before i watched the show and when i saw that scene i STILL thought it was gay lol

sksk thank you for clarifying that by demons you mean david and the cat king bc i was like ??? david and edwin's demon??? interesting take but sure. let's go with it slfjsldfj but yeah calling the cat king a demon works too lmaooo i just love how pathetic the cat king is kssksk

the talking cats are sooo iconic hahaha

omg i totally thought esther was killing monty too. when i first watched it i did a bit of a live reaction with friends and i literally was like noooo not monty!!! he doesn't deserve it!!! i was FLOORED when he turned human skjdflsj in general esther is such a good villain. like i fucking hate her so so so much but man. i LOVE to hate her she just steals every scene she's in ("ouch my ghost skin" lives rent free in my head tbh)

SUPERHOT BUTCHER LADY yesss i love jenny so much. her "oh my fuck" cracks me up every time. fun fact before i watched the show and only saw stuff on tumblr i thought she was gonna be the bad guy sksksk

the show is so camp one second and then soooo devastating the next!!! the devlin house absolutely broke me!! fun fact- or actually not fun at all, idk if you noticed but when the camera is on charles when they're watching the murder happen, you can hear him begging his father to stop hurting him in the background. also another not so fun fact i was listening to jayden revri's charles playlist and the song that's playing in that episode is on there and when it came on i literally had to skip it after a couple seconds bc it triggered me sooo much lmfao but yeah omg don't get me started on the misery wraith!!! the first time i watched it, i was binging and i'd started pretty late already so when i got to that episode it was already dark and i was supposed to go to bed soon and i literally had to cover my screen bc i usually can't do horror at all!! so i was like nopenopenope this isn't happening nope

enjoy the rest of your watch and you're always welcome in my inbox for more yelling!!

[lighthouseas]

"Mike?"

He shouldn't be up. Mike steals a glance at the clock on his nightstand -- the red numbers read 1:30 AM. He's clutching a book, his eyes burning open from the little slivers of light his lamp provides against the darker than usual night.

He supposes evil alternate dimensions did that sort of thing. Made everything...darker.

But even so, Holly shouldn't really be up, either. In fact, it's even worse that Holly is up. If his mom finds out, she'll kill him.

Mike rubs his eyes, the action causing him to see spots. He blinks them away, eyes adjusting to the darkness. Holly is standing at his door, white nightgown illuminated against the blackness of the hallway.

"Hol, go back to bed."

Holly shuffles, bunny slippers digging into the soft carpet. She clutches her aged stuffed dinosaur -- Growly (Mike has a matching one named Rory) -- and stares at the ground.

"I can't," she murmurs.

Mike forces himself to sit up. His back aches with the effort; the slouching position hadn't been good for him.

"Why not?"

Holly's lip trembles, and Mike prays that she doesn't start wailing and wake their mom up.

"I'm-- I'm scared. I had a nightmare."

At this, Mike feels his heart break. He hadn't considered this; that Holly has no idea what's going on, that as far as she knows, this "earthquake" is consuming everything-- including her small, six year old world that she's barely had time to adapt to.

He blinks, dry eyes suddenly moistened.

"And you--" he swallows, "came here?"

Holly nods. She shuffles again. "Can you read me a story?"

"Read you a--" Mike glances at the time again, which now reads 1:33 AM. "Hol, you need to be in bed right now. It's way too late."

"Then why are you awake?"

Okay. She's got him there.

"That's different." It isn't, really. Mike has been having nightmares almost every night, now, which are only satiated with the occasional hot milk that he has the rare privilege of indulging in (given the supply shortages). Tonight is one of the nights where sleep didn't want to come, so he just decided to read instead.

"No it's not," Holly says, because she knows when Mike is lying even despite her age.

Mike cracks a small smile. "Is too."

"Is not."

Mike giggles quietly, missing the familiarity of sibling banter, and pats the spot next to him on his bed. This isn't the first time he's read to Holly: since fall 1985, it'd become a common occurrence. Their mother used to do it, but had stopped after the weekly fights with their dad had turned into almost daily fights. Now, all their mom seemed to want at night was "time to herself" and since the first night where she'd coerced Mike into reading to Holly before bed with a promise of five dollars, it'd since become a free tradition. 

Honestly, Mike didn't mind. He took pleasure in reading in voices and listening to Holly's comments on the story so far (positive and negative). She was very observant, and oftentimes predicted elements of the plot before they happened. And, now that she'd started kindergarten, she'd sometimes ask to read some of the book "for" Mike. And he'd let her, because she actually wasn't a bad reader. In fact, she was the best in her class-- but no one else seemed to know this fact except Mike.

Holly hops up next to Mike. He notices the slight bags under her eyes reflected in the lamplight, but decides not to comment on them. She rests her head on his shoulder, burrowing under the covers and huddling close for warmth.

"What's the book?" Holly pokes the page Mike is on.

Mike side eyes her, and sighs. "The Hobbit. I dunno if Mom will want me reading it to you--" The age rating isn't quite right for Holly, and he really doesn't want to get yelled at on top of...everything.

"No. Read it. I won't tell."

Holly is many things, but she isn't a snitch. Mike has to make sure, though.

"Promise?"

Holly nods. "Promise."

Just for fun, Mike bends down and pokes the stuffed dinosaur that Holly is currently holding against her chest.

"Growly too? You know how he gets..." Mike shakes his head in mock disappointment.

Holly scowls, evidently having taken the comment seriously. "Yes, Growly too. He'd never tell."

Mike throws his hands up in defense. "Just making sure, considering--"

"Mike. The story."

"Okay, okay. Let's see..."

Only ten minutes later, Holly has stopped making whispered comments on the story; she breathes softly against Mike's shoulder, having fallen fast asleep. Growly sags out of her arms, which have gone limp with sleep. Mike looks at the clock.

1:45 AM

Gently, Mike lays Holly down, tucking the covers over her. She doesn't stir (she's a heavy sleeper), and snores lightly. Mike giggles, and then yawns.

He's tired.

He looks out of the window, and red lightning illuminates the sky.

Then, he looks at Holly, asleep in the wrong room, but still appearing somewhat peaceful.

And before he can register it, Mike falls asleep, too.

[howtobecomeadragon]

a continuation of heartgate? I may look into this later but I am also very lazy so if someone else wants to look into it, please do!

I was looking at this scene closely for a different post I'm working on and noticed a heart reflected (from the disco ball?) on Will's face??? while he looks at Mike????

I thiiiink I saw hearts reflect on both Will and Mike in this scene and not much reflected on El at due to the angle or something.

idk I'm feeling way too lazy to see if this is like a thing or if it's just a tiny flash of light that just happens once but maybe someday I'll look more into it!

@dinitride-art thought you might be interested!