#mike's active attraction to men

[aemiron-main]

ive been rewatching s4 scenes and holy fuck did they ever make mike’s crush on eddie obvious like oh my god it’s SO OBVIOUS IN EVERY SINGLE SCENE  plus ‘fever’ by the cramps playing in the background?? at first i thought it was just the instrumental of it but NOPE THE LYRICS ARE QUIET BUT THEYRE THERE like they put in a lyric about “kiss me” right in this scene where dustin looks disturbed and mike doesn’t, AND they quieted out other lyrics of ‘fever’ so we KNOW that they chose specific ones to actually be loud enough to hear. 

mike i know what you are 

[wholoveseggs]

Rules {Part Two}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Two

Its a beautiful day in Mystic Falls, so you decide to put on your favorite dress and grab a drink. Hoping to attract a man {or two} to satisfy your appetites.

♡♡ I've been re-watching tvd season two and omggg I forgot how great the whole Klaus set-up is... this part is during ep 14 crying wolf...♡♡

4k words - Warnings: salvatore!sibling reader, no smut in this one, but very violent, blood drinking, compulsion, murder, secret affair, enemies to lovers, Elijah being the sexiest middle-part menace he can be, finally writing some Damonnnn...

{Part One}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}

It was one of those delightfully sunny days in mystic falls, and you were absolutely going to take advantage of it.

The last few weeks had been a flurry of activity and drama, with Damon trying to find out what Elijah was up to. With zero success.

You wanted to have some fun, so you decided to go to the grill for the afternoon, and maybe have a bite or two.

You wore your most sinful little sundress, the kind that made you look younger and so dreadfully innocent. It came to just above your knees, a little bit of cleavage exposed, and it was white and with yellow flowers.

You did a little spin in front of your mirror, smiling at the way the skirt flared around your thighs, showing just a little bit more skin. You were feeling flirty, and the sun was calling your name.

"Going hunting?" Damon asked, leaning against your doorframe, looking at your outfit with amusement.

You turned to face him, a playful smile on your lips. "Can't a girl dress up just for fun?"

"Sure they can, but you aren't just a girl," He replied, grinning at his own joke.

You rolled your eyes, picking up your purse and pushing past him, ignoring his chuckle as he followed after you.

"Be safe, there are werewolves in town, not to mention Elijah," He warned, standing at the bottom of the stairs, watching you slip into your heels.

You gave him a kiss on the cheek, smacking his cheek a little too hard. "Love you," You teased, skipping out the door and onto the front lawn.

You felt free and wild, a skip in your step and a smile on your face. As soon as you arrived at the grill, you headed straight for the bar, waving at the bartender.

He frowned and walked up to you, looking you up and down. "Aren't you a bit young to be drinking?"

You pouted and placed a hand on his, leaning forward, and looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"Please? Just one," You begged.

The guy hesitated, glancing between you and the beer, unsure what to do.

You smiled and leaned in a little more, your pupils dilating as you took control of his mind, "I'm older than I look,"

His eyes glazed over and he nodded and turned around, filling a glass with the beer. You were grinning, and thanking him.

You turned around on the stool and surveyed the bar, looking for a snack. Unlike most vampires, you always got more hungry when alcohol was involved, and now you were craving something sweet.

Your eyes scanned the tables, the couples and groups of people sitting and talking, and finally they landed on the three men playing pool in the corner.

They all looked drunk and it was only the afternoon, the two guys paying and the third watching them, laughing and carrying on.

You sipped your drink, watching them, waiting for the right moment. The one with a shaved head pulled out a pack of cigarettes, and he and the other guy walked out the backdoor, leaving the third alone.

Perfect.

You picked up your beer and walked over to the table, a playful smile on your lips. You walked up next to him, resting a hand on his arm, leaning against him a little.

"Hi," you said in a soft voice, a little higher than your usual tone.

The guy looked down at you, and smiled. "Hey,"

"I'm y/n," You grinned, sipping your beer, your fingers trailing along his arm.

"Mike," He smiled, watching you curiously.

"Mike," You repeated, letting his name roll off your tongue, tasting it, deciding if you liked it.

He was an attractive guy, taller than you, brown hair, and bright green eyes. You found the pretty ones always tasted the best.

"Do you wanna play a game?" You asked, nodding at the pool table, a shy smile on your lips.

"Um, yeah, sure," He said, taking the stick and holding it out to you.

You giggled and took the stick, pretending to not know what to do, and letting Mike come up behind you and guide your arms, teaching you how to hit the balls.

You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, the gentle movements of his arms, and his breath hot on your neck. The perfect appetizer.

"Thank you," You said, spinning around and wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing against him.

"Anytime," He grinned, his eyes darkening with lust.

You smiled and stood on your tiptoes, your lips ghosting over his. You had him just where you wanted him and now you could hear his friends coming back inside. Everything was going perfectly.

You tilted your head to look at his friends, who were just as attractive and drunk as he was.

"Your friends are coming back, let's all have some fun?" You said softly, your finger running down the middle of his chest, your pupils dilating as you took complete control of his mind.

"Sure, sounds great," He smiled, his eyes going distant and cloudy.

"Hi, sorry, didn't mean to interrupt," The guy with the shaved head said, eyeing the two of you up.

"It's okay," Mike grinned, looking at you, "I was just teaching her how to play,"

You stepped out of Mike's embrace and looked at the guy, reaching out your hand and introducing yourself.

"Dane," He replied, shaking your hand, "That's Jeff," He nodded his head to the other man.

You introduced yourself and shook his hand, then did the same with the third guy.

"I was hoping we could all play a game, I'm really bad at this," You pouted, giving them the puppy eyes.

"You bet," Dane smiled, his arm going around your waist, you giggled and pushed your ass against his groin.

The guys set up the table, and you started a round, giggling and making terrible shots.

"No no no, that's not right," Jeff laughed, stepping behind you and guiding your hands.

"Oh, I see," You hummed, pretending not to know what he was talking about.

It took less than fifteen minutes to have all three of them completely under your compulsion. They were following your every word, and doing whatever you wanted.

"Can we go somewhere else?" You asked softly, looking around at your buffet with big doe eyes, twirling your hair. "I'm not supposed to be drinking, I'm not old enough,"

"Sure," Jeff nodded, wrapping his arm around you, his fingers brushing against the side of your breast.

"We have a hotel room, you should come with us," Mike said, his arm around Dane's shoulders.

"Oh, I don't know. I don't think my brothers would like that," You said softly, a blush in your cheeks.

"Come on, we can keep a secret," Dane grinned, glancing at his two friends.

You giggled and let them lead you out of the Grill, your hand tucked into the crook of Jeff's arm.

As soon as you reached the alley, you turned to face them, pretending to search through your purse.

"Hey, do any of you have a cigarette? I can't find mine," You pouted, giving a disappointed look.

"Here," Mike smiled, lighting a smoke for you and placing it between your lips.

"Thank you, Mike," you cooed, taking a long drag and leaning against the brick wall.

"I think you're really hot," he replied, putting his hands on the wall next to your head, caging you in.

You giggled and flicked the ashes, taking another drag. "Is that so?" You teased, letting your eyes wander over his body, biting your lip.

"Yes," He smirked, his hands moving down the wall, next to your hips, his face inches from yours.

"How old are you Mike?" You asked, blowing smoke into his face, a seductive smirk on your lips.

"Twenty-six," He answered, leaning forward and trying to kiss you.

You giggled, pushing him away playfully. "Will you do something for me Mike?" You asked, taking one last drag and flicking the cigarette to the ground.

"Yeah, anything," He said eagerly.

"Go back inside and get me a bottle of their best bourbon," You said sweetly, placing a finger on his lips. "It will make such a nice pairing,"

Mike nodded and disappeared back inside. You looked over at the other two, still leaning against the wall.

"I need help, and you guys are gonna help me, right?" You asked, batting your eyelashes.

"Of course," They replied, nodding their heads.

You smiled and pushed off the wall, standing in front of Dane.

"Kiss me," You purred, a coy smile on your lips.

Dane's lips were on yours before you could take a breath. He was rough, pushing you back into the wall, his hands grabbing your ass and squeezing. He tried to push his tongue into your mouth, but you bit it off before he could.

You giggled and spat the bloody muscle onto the ground before you pulled his head back, sinking your fangs into his neck. It was quick work to drain him, he didn't even have time to scream before his limp body fell to the ground.

Jeff watched, his eyes glazed over, swaying a little, looking slightly confused. He watched as you drained his friend, licking your lips.

"Come here," You beckoned, stepping over the corpse and taking Jeff's hand. "It's okay sweetheart," You hummed, your hands roaming over his chest.

He was tall, and broad shouldered, his biceps flexing. A perfect feast.

"You look like a main course," You whispered, leaning up and kissing him, a small bite on his bottom lip.

"Oh?" He mumbled, his eyes hazy.

You smiled and nodded, guiding his hand to your throat, encouraging him to squeeze. His fingers pressed into your skin, restricting your air flow.

"Tighter," You gasped, tilting your head to expose more of your neck.

His grip tightened and you let out a moan, your body arching towards him, begging for more. Your fangs extending, ready to feed.

Mike came back into the alley with the bottle in hand, and stopped at the sight before him. He watched as his friend strangled you, his hand tightening around your throat, and your moans growing louder.

"Jeff?" He said softly, not understanding what was happening.

You looked over, seeing Mike's confused expression. You pulled Jeff closer, sinking your fangs into his neck. His eyes widened and he gasped, trying to pull away, but you were stronger.

You moaned against his skin, pulling him tighter, and drinking greedily. Jeff's knees buckled and you caught him, pulling him into your arms, laying his dead body on the ground.

You stood, blood now dripping down your chin and onto your dress. You smiled and wiped a bit that was dripping from your lips, then walked up to Mike, who was staring at the bodies in shock.

"Hi," You smiled, reaching out and touching his cheek, making him look at you. "Thanks for the bourbon,"

You opened the bottle and took a swig, the strong liquor burning its way down your throat. You handed the bottle to Mike and leaned in, your lips grazing his ear.

"Drink," You ordered.

His mouth opened and he took a long sip, his eyes glassy, the bottle now stained with your own bloody fingerprints.

"Mike, can I ask you a question?" You asked sweetly, running your fingers through his hair.

"Yes,"

"Why did you hit on me when you knew I was underage? That's not very nice," You said in a sing-song voice.

"Because you are hot," He said, his eyes transfixed on your bloody mouth.

"I am hot," You nodded, pulling the bottle from his hand and taking another drink. "But you must know what you did was wrong,"

"It was wrong," He nodded, his voice flat and distant.

"What do you think should happen to people who hurt little girls like me?" You asked, placing the bottle on the ground and running your hands along his chest.

"They should be punished,"

"I agree," You smiled, pushing him against the wall and pressing your body against his. "You deserve to be punished, Mike,"

He didn't reply, just nodded. You kissed his cheek and then his neck, biting down and tearing at his skin. As his body grew heavy in your arms, you sank to the ground, cradling him against you, humming a song softly, draining him until the last drop.

You finished the bottle of bourbon and threw the empty bottle into a trash bin. You stood and fixed your dress, pulling the straps up a little higher. You looked around at the bodies, a smile on your face.

"That was quite the ostentatious display," said a deep voice from behind you.

You jumped and spun around, facing Elijah. He was leaning against the brick wall, his arms crossed, looking impeccable, a small amused smile on his face.

"What are you doing here?" You asked, smoothing down your dress, suddenly feeling self conscious.

"Why, watching the show," he teased, gesturing to the three bodies lying on the ground.

You rolled your eyes, not even trying to hide the grin on your face.

"Did you enjoy it?" You asked, stepping over the bodies and walking over to him.

"A bit grandiose for my taste, but..." He moved closer, his arm going around your waist, drawing you against him. "I always enjoy seeing you hunt,"

"Mmm, maybe I'll hunt you next," You hummed, placing a hand on his chest, playing with the buttons.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound.

"Hmmm, she likes roleplay," He mused, taking out his handkerchief and wiping the blood from your cheek. "Aren't you just full of surprises,"

You rolled your eyes and let him clean the blood off, and when he was finished, you reached up and grabbed his collar, pulling him down into a kiss.

"Why haven't you called me?" You asked, your hands gripping his jacket, a slight pout on your lips.

"I have been busy," He answered, smiling slightly.

"Doing what?" You asked, looking up at him, your bottom lip jutting out.

"Business. The kind we don't discuss," he hummed, placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

You sighed, looking away, and letting go of him. You were always careful about not getting too attached to men, they would always end up being assholes or liars. But Elijah wasn't like the other men you'd been with. He wasn't withholding because he was playing a game, he was protecting you, and himself.

"Have I upset you? I thought we agreed it was safer this way," He said softly, his thumb grazing along your cheek, and then his finger under your chin, turning your face towards him.

"You're right," You said, a slight shake in your voice. "I'm just not used to this,"

"Neither am I," he hummed, his hand slipping into yours, entwining your fingers together.

He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. You closed your eyes and tried to relax, letting yourself get lost in him.

"What are you doing tonight?" You asked, pulling away and looking up at him, a playful smile on your lips.

"Well," he began, then looked down at his phone, his brows furrowing slightly. "I unfortunately have something I need to attend to,"

"Oh," You said softly, disappointment creeping into your voice.

"However, I will be available afterwards." He smiled, and pulled out a card from his pocket, it had an address written on it.

"Apartment 117, be there in around midnight," He instructed, slipping the card into your hand.

"Okay," You nodded, glancing at the card.

"I would say you look beautiful tonight, but I can see you dressed for something else," He teased, his eyes lingering on your dress, and then back up at you, a knowing smile on his lips.

"You don't like it?" You smirked, giving him a little twirl, the bottom of the dress fanning out.

He hummed, taking in the sight of you, a playful gleam in his eyes. "It doesn't suit you,"

You let out a little gasp, and gave him a hard slap on the chest. He chuckled, grabbing your hand and pulling you against him, his lips on yours.

"Be safe tonight," He whispered against your lips, his breath warm.

You grinned and nodded, and then he was gone. You sighed, tucking the card into your purse, and then glanced at the three bodies, contemplating how you should dispose of them.

The sun had fully set now, the street lights flickering to life. You grabbed the legs of one of the men and dragged him over to the dumpster, and then did the same for the other two.

You stood back, looking at the three dead men, and then you took out a cigarette and lit it, leaning against the brick wall and taking a long drag.

You glanced down at your outfit, a smirk playing on your lips. Elijah was right, this dress wasn't you, not really. But it did look great, and it had the desired effect.

You poured the remaining bourbon over the bodies and took another drag, then tossed the lit cigarette into the dumpster, igniting the alcohol. You smiled and walked away, humming a song under your breath, a spring in your step.

It was just a few hours before midnight, and you wanted to make sure you had time to go home and change. You were going to see Elijah, and you needed the perfect outfit.

It was certainly going to be a delicious night.

"What happened!" You gasped, looking around the living room, which was covered in blood and broken glass.

"Had a lovely visit from the werewolves," Damon sighed, scrubbing a large pool of blood from the white carpet in the middle of the living room.

"Are you okay?" You asked, setting down your purse and grabbing the broom.

"Fine, fine, thanks for asking," He muttered, his hand going over his ribs.

You started sweeping the shattered glass and bits of wood into a pile, and noticed a large dent in the wall, and a blood trail. It was human blood, and there was a lot of it.

"Alaric's," Damon explained, following your gaze. "Don't worry, he was wearing his ring, he's fine,"

"So, what happened?" You asked, trying to piece together what could have caused this much damage.

"They came looking for the moonstone, thought I still had it," Damon shrugged, tossing a bloodied towel into the kitchen.

You watched him pick up a pile of chains left in the middle of the room, and walk towards the cellar.

"They stabbed Rick, stuck me with a needle of vervain and chained me up," Damon continued, making his way down into the cold stone room, the sound of chains clanging as he hung them up.

You got closer to your brother, inspecting his neck and forearms. "Did they bite you?" You asked, searching for the marks.

"Not a full moon, wouldn't do much," Damon sighed, brushing you away.

You were relieved, and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You feared for your brother, he was always so reckless, and would end up dead one day.

"Why didn't they kill you? Or just take the stone?" You asked, following him up the stairs.

"Well... We had a visitor. Elijah showed up," He answered, pouring himself a large glass of bourbon.

"Elijah was here?" You asked, excitement creeping into your voice.

Damon gave you an odd look, his bright blue eyes looking you up and down. He didn't like how you said his name, or how excited you were about it.

"Yeah," he said slowly, taking a long sip. "He showed them the moonstone, and when the wolves tried to take it, he killed them,"

"All of them?" You asked, the broom and dustpan forgotten.

"The ones who didn't run," Damon nodded, his gaze piercing, watching every small expression.

"Good," you replied, a soft smile on your lips.

"You need to steer clear of him y/n," Damon said sternly, putting down his glass and walking over to you. "He is one dangerous mother fucker, who we still don't know how to kill,"

"I know that," You nodded, avoiding his gaze.

"Do you?" He challenged, his hand grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him. "While you are out there, playing innocent to lure men in, I'm here trying to figure out how to keep everyone safe,"

"I am not an idiot, Damon," You huffed, pushing his hand away.

"Do you know what he's planning? He is going to sacrifice Elena, you remember her right? Your friend? Stefan's girl? Do you want her dead?" He snapped, his anger flaring.

"Of course not," You replied, annoyed by the insinuation.

"Then why haven't you done anything to help? Bonnie is out here laying her life on the line, Stefan and I are constantly trying to keep her safe, and even Jeremy has been more useful than you,"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. You had a plan, you just couldn't tell him.

"I am doing my part, Damon," You said quietly, your shoulders slumping. "You just have to trust me,"

Damon's eyes softened, and his anger seemed to ebb. He reached out and brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"You know I do," He hummed, cupping your face gently.

"Don't get killed," You said softy, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

Damon chuckled, wiping a stray tear with his thumb. "I can't, you'll be all alone,"

You sniffled, and rolled your eyes. "Stefan would be so insulted to hear you say that," You joked, trying to keep the mood light.

"Well, I wouldn't want to hurt his feelings," Damon smirked, taking a step back, and grabbing his drink.

"Go take a shower, you smell like a wet dog," You laughed, pushing him towards the stairs.

"It's actually werewolf piss," He smirked, heading upstairs, the smell following him.

"Lovely," You said, wrinkling your nose and continuing to clean up.

A few minutes later, the sound of water could be heard. You finished cleaning up and headed upstairs, changing into a short silk robe.

You sat down at the vanity and fixed your hair, and applied a fresh coat of dark lipstick. You wanted to look your best for Elijah. You grabbed a perfume bottle and spritzed a few pumps onto your neck and wrists.

You stood, and went over to the wardrobe, opening it and searching for the perfect dress. You knew exactly what you wanted to wear. Something simple, and classic. The kind of clothing you knew Elijah would appreciate.

As you worked on the finishing touches, your mind wandered to Damon's words. You hated to keep secrets, especially from him, but you didn't have a choice. There was no way you could explain it to him, he just wouldn't understand and go all big brother on you.

You grabbed a pair of high heels and slipped them on, and then put on a black shawl and matching gloves, completing the look. You looked at yourself in the mirror, a satisfied smile on your lips.

"Damn, sis," Damon whistled, his eyes trailing over you, a smirk on his lips.

"Shut up," You chuckled, grabbing your purse.

"Wait, where are you going dressed like that?" He asked, his eyebrows furrowing, and his head tilting slightly.

"Out," You answered, avoiding his gaze, and adjusting your shawl.

"No, really," He replied sarcastically.

"Yes, really," You laughed, making your way to the door.

"You already went hunting today, you are getting downright greedy, there will be no men left in town," Damon teased, following you down the stairs.

"There's plenty of men," You smirked, glancing at him, and then the grandfather clock, it was twenty minutes to midnight.

"Well, if you do happen to run into anyone particularly tasty, invite them back here, I'm bored," Damon mused, watching you head for the door.

"Night brother," You smiled, leaning in and kissing his cheek.

"Be careful," He called, his arms crossing over his chest.

"I always am," You assured him, and then stepped outside into the night.

{Part One} {Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}

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[mary-kasexual]

In honor of lesbian visibility week, I present a full list of female characters from Total Drama who have canonically shown no attraction to men! (as far as I'm aware)

Staci - Only present for one episode and only spoke for one episode, having no lines in the finale. None of these lines hint at Staci displaying any interest in men.

Dawn - The closest thing I could find was the "I didn't know you were a beetle whisperer!" scene, but even then, that could easily be read as platonic. Svetlana - Similar case to Staci in that her lines are pretty limited due to being actively suppressed by Mike or Mal. However she has not, in fact, said anything that hints at her liking men in those few lines.

Sammy & Amy - Other than that one "Topher thinks you're fat" line of dialogue (which could easily be played off as Amy trying to mess with her), neither of them have shown any on-screen interest in men.

Scarlett - The only extensive interaction she has with men are Max, whom she DESPISES, and their alliance is only romantically framed for the sake of a gag.

Sugar - Nothing in canon hints at her liking men. She admires Leonard, but this is most likely due to his perceived magical abilities rather than any sort of attraction as she displays a similar interest in Max later on.

Tammy - Similar case to Staci, she only had a very brief speaking role in episode 1 and never in these lines was it implied she was attracted to men.

Mary & Ellody - Only here for a short time (with Mary only having dialogue in the episode she was eliminated in rip), but neither of them express interest in guys.

Laurie & Miles - Same deal as Mary and Ellody, they go pretty early overall but haven't been shown to like men.

Jen - You'd expect someone of her character archetype to mention looking for 'cute guys' or something similar, but surprisingly no? The closest thing she has would be her friendship with Tom, which is treated as 100% platonic by the show even if you don't take into account the fact that Tom is gay.

Taylor - Another surprising one imo, it's never stated or implied that she likes guys in the show, not even a passing mention from what I've seen which I could've sworn happened on first watch. Mandela effect I guess 🤷

Josee - Similar deal to Jen as far as I'm aware, being that her closest relationship to a guy is with a gay man and treated as platonic throughout the race.

Sanders - Pretty clear-cut, no scenes of her expressing interest in men or romance in general.

MacArthur - "What about Brody?" The only time she's shown to return his affection is during the finale and she's actively trying to throw him off his game by using his crush against him. She only asks Brody to call her in the Surfers ending, which she doesn't do at all in the Cadets ending implying that she's most likely only in it for the money.

Scary Girl/Lauren - While she does hold an interest in Damien, nothing in canon says she's attracted to him, only to the sound of his screams.

Nichelle - Too busy having no lines to talk about boys. seethingwithrage

Millie - Zero attraction to men in canon, the most interactions she has are with and about Priya. She's sorta friendly with Damien, but it doesn't rise anywhere above platonic (probably because she shoved him into a meat grinder but who knows) and actively seems to be disgusted by or otherwise pretty averse to most of the male cast.

MK - Has never been shown to be interested in guys or even romance in general. In fact, she actively seems to dislike it as seen in the episode where Caleb and Priya kiss where she goes “Yeah, that was sweet, but it’s also how you get mono” (this is ace mk propaganda btw). There was also Nichelle's intro in season 1 when she was looking at her starry-eyed, clearly a joke but yk still noteworthy.

Julia - My favorite lesbian <3 zero attraction or hints at attraction to men in canon + listen... we all watched season 2 you know what I'm talking about don't lie. The closest things she has to romantic interactions with men in canon are at most one-sided and always with her actively disliking said man on the other side (Wayne + maybe Ripper in season 1).

[rogunetocentral]

I dislike when someone tries to retroactively say there was a ship war regarding Rogueneto when it was nothing of the sort. What really happened is that some folks thought Rogueneto was cool and then they got harassed out of fandom spaces by shippers of Rogue's other relationship. The same thing happened to Roguepool, Rogan, and RoguexJohnny fans to a lesser extent. To say there was a war was to imply both sides were on equal footing and equally involved fighting, which again, was not true and still isn’t true.

What I remember happening, first hand, was not being able to discuss Xmen legacy new issues because even insinuating you liked Mike Carey was an offense against nature even if Magneto wasn't even in the new issue with Rogue. I remember not being able to go to Rogue centered websites or forum threads without someone going on a diatribe every 5 posts about how awful Rogueneto was, how awful and sexist their fans were, and Mike Carey was apparently a pervert that needed to be harassed and shit talked on every social media platform including his Facebook page that he still graciously left public for fans to interact with him. I remember when he was forced to make an account on CBR to make his one and only post defending himself from accusations on his person by shippers who called him a supporter of sexual abuse and grooming, an allegation against the comic and writer that they made up 1000%

I remember non-fans of Rogue and Rogueneto getting fed up with the allegations and shipping madness that whenever they did defend Rogueneto from outright lies they were accused of being shippers themselves as a way to invalidate their opinions and perspective as a third-party. I remember there was no war but an onslaught of crazed shipping ruining everyone's enjoyment.

To say there has ever been a shipping war with these characters is to actively erase the one sided harassment and shitty behavior that surrounded that period. Saying, "oh my friend was harassed by Rogueneto fans" is not going to fly tbh, because there was a handful of fans of the ship and I can safely say most of them did not give a fuck about harassing other shippers. They just wanted to ship in peace away from everyone else. If anything the non-shipper readers would be more aggressive than the Rogueneto shippers in fighting, so that needs to be taken up with them.

The fact that it's happening again with x-men 97 should tell you something. Playful jabs between friends is one thing but once again complete and utter meltdowns are happening because Rogueneto gets rare crumbs. I had to see with my own eyes that someone genuinely believed Marvel and the X-Men 97 writers were engaging in psychological warfare because their ship didn't happen in this one thing. The voice actors are put into tight spots because if they say or do anything to make it seem like they enjoy Rogueneto then they'll get harassed. People pulling up the fake groomer allegations from their shipping agenda textbook again to make Rogueneto look bad and guilt people out of liking it. Misogynistic and sexist comments are consistently thrown at Rogue for daring to be genuinely attracted/attached to another man.

There was/is no war in Ba Sing Se. Just a bunch of shipper crybaby nonsense and other comic fans exhausted by it.

[fallen-and-holy]

Redoing my pinned post!

Heyo!! Call me Mars or Aster, i use he/hymn/it pronouns, and this is my main blog for all things! I'm alterhuman and queer in almost every way possible, and this is my place to be obnoxious about it. I’m also autistic and vocal about it. That’s the summary, more info below the cut!!

About Me

Alterhuman things

Kintype(s): Western dragon; fallen angel/demon; nökk/nixie/nokken

Theriotype(s): Maned wolf (linktype)

Theriomythic type(s): Night (or Forest??) Fury (linktype)

Fictionflicker type(s): Eztli Tokoyami (MHA/BNHA, non-canon); Rust (TMA, non-canon Corruption avatar); the Leviathan (TMA, non-canon Hunt/Vast avatar); Mike Crew (TMA); MK (Lego Monkie Kid); John Doe (Malevolent)

Hearthome(s): Star Trek

Hearttype(s): changelings; canines; space/stars

Archetrope(s): Guardian

Satellotype(s): Harpy eagle (orbiting the Leviathan); red winged blackbird (orbiting Eztli); felines (orbiting both of my dragon kintypes)

Miscecanis/miscanimalis: Beta, scent is ozone and old books with an undercurrent of sandalwood, revolves around all of my alterhumanity but specifically avian, canine, and eldritch behaviors

Queer Things

The short answer for my gender is multigender boy+ butch bear freakthingcreature, the long answer is ‘i dont know if i have a gender, i dont know what a gender is supposed to feel like, but i like being referred to with masculine terms and also there are things that are intrinsically important to my identity so i might as well call them genders’

Xenohoarder, here’s my hoard: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1_P8tza81UckHbBm2LaRa_mzihvhPHPq_kNIDICQpAY8/edit?usp=sharing

The label i usually use for my orientation is omni, but the long and short of it is i like men in a fag way and women in a dyke way and men in a dyke way and women in a fag way and absolutely everyone in a queer way

Aroacespec, demirose

Name and pronoun hoarder, my pronoun page is here: https://en.pronouns.page/@fallen-and-holy

Objectum, mostly aesthetic attraction to things like computers but very much in love with the moon, the sea, space, and pretty much the concept of the Vast

Misc

quick guide to the first person pronouns I use: i/me/mine/myself refers to me and sometimes my subsystem; eye/me/meye/meyeself refers to just me; wei/muis/muir/muirself refers to me and my subsystem and sometimes my dæmon; we/us/ours/ourself refers to me and Cypher.

Plural, not sure how much im going to talk about that on here. Im a median subsystem with a dæmon as well as having one headmate, Cypher.

I dont really have a DNI, because those dont work and people are going to do what they want, but you will be blocked if you're mean. Additionally, i block/unfollow for a variety of reasons, including ‘i just dont want to see this on my dash for aesthetic reasons’ and i most likely wont remember why.

Fandoms i’ll likely talk about/reblog on here are the Magpod universes, MHA/BNHA, Dungeon Meshi, Fullmetal Alchemist, Lego Monkie Kid, Sanders Sides, Malevolent, and Star Trek

Sideblogs/digital shrines (most aren't very active)

@the-taste-of-blood-on-teeth

@worship-sky-blue

@song-of-the-hive

@khaos-born-mother

@morning-stars-temple

@of-shattered-halo

[mikesbasementbeets]

are you arguing that bi mike believers, unlabeled mike believers, and those who are undecided are homophobic?

no. i’m not arguing that any person or sets of people are homophobic. i do think that there are certain avenues of thought that come up often in arguments against a definitive gay mike reading which stem from homophobic biases that, given the benefit of the doubt, the people arguing them may not realize are homophobic or even realize that they hold those biases.

believing that mike is bi or being undecided about it doesn’t mean you’re homophobic. obviously. however, plainly acknowledging that mike canonically does not exhibit attraction to women and then insisting that he could still be attracted to women in spite of that, to me, indicates a (possibly subconscious) bias against men who are not attracted to women. if your instinct when confronted with a character who presents a categorical lack of opposite-gender attraction, concurrent with active displays of same-gender attraction, is to round up every possible alternative explanation, all equally hypothetical and unsupported by canon, to avoid coming to the logical conclusion of that specific narrative dichotomy (homosexuality), then all i’m asking is that you examine what biases you might be holding onto that lead you to that reaction.

[castlebyersafterdark]

who do you think would be better at sucking dick?

Going less for better, just they have different approaches to the activity. Hmmm.

Time and time again I mention my Will HC of having an oral fixation. So, you know this is one of his favorite activities. Just in general. Feels good, feels right for him. So I think he just elects to do it more, and he really enjoys it. Mike's so reactive. Not only is the physical feeling of sucking him off addicting and something he finds fun and satisfying, the weight of him in his mouth, the stretch - but how Mike sounds? Those noises, the way his hands fly to Will's hair and face, babbling praise and love, coming undone - Will cannot get enough of that. Knowing he did that to Mike. It's kind of a powerful feeling, knowing you can reduce someone down to those reactions. Not that they both wouldn't like that, but it's such a big deal for Will. He was definitely the first one to do it for the other, always played a big part of his fantasies and realizing his attraction to men. He's always wondered what it was like doing that to a guy, even more so than having it done to him. And he loves pushing himself, trying out different techniques, seeing how far he can draw it out. Mike's not small either, so it takes practice to take him all down. He loves the struggle and effort sometimes, loves how good it feels to give up control and just let Mike use him sometimes, and he loves that Mike understands when he wants or needs to do that.

But also I head canon that Mike barely has a gag reflex which is super fun but also Will gets so worked up about it because he's both jealous and grateful, like sure it's to his benefit but ughh, he works so hard and Mike can just do that? Hilarious. But, hot. And of course Mike loves going down on Will, one of their favorite things is when Mike surprises Will by waking him up with a blowjob. But it's usually a precursor to something else or in conjunction with other stuff. Will loves everything Mike wants to do to him but if he has a say, he much more loves Mike eating him out or getting his fingers - and he really really loves Mike's hands on him, probably even more than his mouth. That's just how it is!!

[sillyrabbit81]

The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood - Part Thirteen

Series Summary: Lori "Babycakes" Tate swore she would never date a biker but when her life is in danger, she is put under the protection of a small club known as The Fallen Wolves Brotherhood. She suddenly finds herself attracted to not one, but five bikers.

A reverse harem, biker AU.

Part Thirteen Summary: Lori gets to know Geralt.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC, Walter Marshall x OFC, Mike x OFC, Geralt x OFC, August Walker x OFC

Word Count: Approx. 3k

Warnings:

Series Warnings: Reverse harem, age gap (OFC 23, ages range from 23 to mid 40s), oral sex (male and female receiving), unprotected p in v sex, anal sex, group sex, masturbation, praise kink, mentions of body fluids, drug use, recreational drinking, sex work, criminal activities, mention of death, violence, use of weapons, mentions of war, mentions of abuse, angst, fluff, probably a lot more that I will add as they come up.

Part Thirteen Warnings: slight angst, some fluff, discussion of illegal activities (I guess) and perving on Geralt.

Authors Note: Thanks as always to my lovely BBFs (Best Beta's forever) @henryobsessed and @nashibirne .

I am so so so sorry about the delay and thank you all for waiting patiently. I know this is a bit of a slow burn as well, but like most of my stories these days, the smut requires a long build up... I hope you think it will be worth it when it finally cums (ha!).

This chapter and the next will be from Lori's POV. I wrote too much and had to split it into two parts. I think that matters more to me than to anyone else. But I should then be back on track for alternating POVs.

I apologise again for the long delay and I hope you enjoy this part.

Divider made by me. Edited by me, there will be errors. (Probably a lot in this chapter, I apologise)

Masterlist

Parts Masterlist

Part Twelve Part Fourteen

Lori 

My mind swarmed with thoughts that stung the deepest parts of my heart. I should never have slept with Sy; I knew he would pull me back into a life I had told myself I would never go back to. I stupidly allowed myself to develop feelings for the very type of men who would set me hurtling straight down that path. How could I have ever thought the Brothers were different? Underneath the veneer of attractive looks and pretty words, the Brothers were just like the men Nate had surrounded himself with. I had been a fool to expect anything else from them.

However, I could not deny that despite everything, it felt right being with Sy, I felt safe in Marshall’s arms, and even Mike’s sweetly hesitant kiss had made my heart skip a beat. What I had felt with the Brothers was real, it had to be. It didn’t make sense otherwise. If all they had wanted was quick fuck, surely they would not have been so respectful. I know how these things go, they would have got me drunk and taken advantage of me at the first opportunity.

Frustratingly, I could not make heads or tails of the situation. I tried to put it out of my head and for a while I tried to read the book I took from Marshall, but the words seemed to swim on the page. 

Eventually I gave up and headed to the kitchen to find something to eat. Hopefully the Brothers had something in their fridge other than beer. I prayed for some ice-cream, some cookie dough or even a tub of frozen yoghurt; anything sickly sweet that I could stuff myself with while I lost myself in some reality television.

Putting on my last pair of jeans, I folded Sy’s shirt and slipped it under my pillow; I didn’t want it to get dirty and have to wash what little of Sy’s smell was left on it. Even as I had the thought, I realised how pathetic it was to have so hastily attached myself to Sy. Then just as quickly, I remembered my conversation with Walter and my empty stomach churned on itself.

Don’t think about it.

The only clean shirt I had left was my pyjama tank top. It was a little tight and was probably a bit provocative considering I wasn’t wearing a bra, but it would have to do.

I took the rest of my washing to the laundry, going through the kitchen, hoping it was empty.

It wasn’t. 

Geralt was cleaning up the dishes from breakfast. He was imposing in his black jeans and t-shirt, even whilst doing something as mundane and domestic as stacking a dishwasher. He lifted his gaze and my knees felt weak as his nearly yellow coloured eyes caught mine. He nodded as I rushed past him and quickly dumped my clothes into the wash.

“Hungry?” he asked as I came back into the kitchen.

“Yes,” I managed to croak out.

“What do you normally have for breakfast?”

“Coffee and either cereal or eggs.”

“Sit,” Geralt said in his gravelly tone. “There’s some scrambled eggs left over, I can heat them up in the microwave.”

“That’s ok, I can do it.”

“I insist,” Geralt said, his smile widening. “You’re our guest. I’ll make you a coffee too.”

I sat on a barstool at the island bench and watched as Geralt moved around the kitchen with more ease than I would have expected.

The Brothers had some luxurious appliances, much more than the basic stuff at the clubhouse at home. I wanted to ask him about it, but I still hadn’t gotten my thoughts straight in my mind. Geralt was part of this pact, though he’d hardly said more than five words to me. Watching him now, I struggled to believe it. He wasn’t giving me any signs that he was interested in me beyond being courteous.

He worked in silence, passing me the warmed eggs while the coffee brewed. He made two coffees and sat next to me.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

He hummed and didn’t say anything further while I ate. But I felt his eyes on me while I kept mine firmly fixed on my plate. The eggs were good - probably cooked in butter from the taste - but Geralt’s presence and silence continued to the point where I started to feel uncomfortable.

“Do you guys do your own cleaning?” I asked just to avoid the awkwardness.

“We have cleaners come in once a week, but we do the day-to-day cleaning ourselves.”

Because I couldn’t think of anything else to say I asked, “When are they coming in next?”

“They won’t while you’re here, sweetling. Too risky.”

I frowned. My brother’s club had one of the senior members ex wives come in to do cleaning and cooking each day. The club pays her, but they also have the Probies do a lot of the cleaning up, especially after parties and such. I told Geralt that.

“We’re a small club, we don’t have the types of parties most clubs have and we don’t accept Probies. The only way to probation is by invitation. In five years, Mike’s been the only one we’ve asked.”

“Why? I mean, more members means more strength and more income streams.” 

“We don’t operate like most clubs. Yes, our work isn’t exactly legal, but we don’t run drugs, we don’t operate brothels or get involved in protection rackets and we have no interest in gambling or black market trade of weapons or animals. We advise and consult, make introductions and offer protection. We help set up routes and transportation for drugs, weapons and other such goods, but we never assist with people trafficking or animal smuggling. We keep a low profile, always acting in the background. We charge a fee and don’t take cuts of profits so there is less of a money trail to follow back to us. We work with any club who wants to hire us, and we don’t get involved in turf wars. We have specific skills and come from a background similar to the original biker gangs that cropped up after WW2.”

“So, you were in the army too?”

“No. I was a freelancer who worked for the government.”

“So Sy was Special Forces, Marshall a detective, and you were a mercenary?”

“That sums it up.”

“What about Walker?”

“You’ll have to ask him yourself.”

I huffed. “Fat chance, he hates me.”

Geralt chuckled. “I can assure you he does not, Sweetling.”

I raised my eyebrows. “How do you…” I started but then quickly asked instead, “how did you guys get together?”

Geralt took my finished plate to the sink, rinsed it off and put it in the dishwasher. He stood across the kitchen island from me, one hand on the counter as he finished his coffee. He seemed to be appraising me.

Eventually he spoke again, “I think you should ask Walker about that too.”

“Oh.” I finished my coffee and Geralt held out his hand. I passed my empty mug to him, and he put it in the dishwasher before turning it on.

Geralt stayed on the other side of the island and leaned against the sink, his head slightly tilted as if deep in thought. He was still, unmoving as he stared at me, so I stared back at him.

Like all the Brothers, he was annoyingly attractive, but he also seemed to be a relic, a biker from an era that had long since passed. The leather pants he wore while riding were black jeans today but he was still clad in the same slightly billowy black shirt. His hair was out today, the top half pulled back and held off his face by what looked to be a leather string. Even his tattoos were faded and an older style. Once colourful wolves, dragons, moons and stars covered the skin on his arms where his sleeves were rolled back.

After what felt like minutes of us studying each other, I got frustrated and stood up.

“What are your plans for today?” Geralt asked immediately.

“I don’t know. I suppose I’ll go back to my room. Probably more exciting than being gawked at.”

“Does it make you uncomfortable when I look at you?”

“Looking is one thing. Staring is another. I don’t know why you’re staring.” 

“You’re nice to look at.” Geralt said matter of factly.

I felt my face heating up as his lips curved slightly and the skin around his amber eyes creased.

Geralt ignored my blush and said, “I’m working on a panhead today, a custom job. I’ll be in the workshop if you want to join me.”

“What are you doing to her?” I asked, my interest piqued.

“Her?” Geralt chuckled. “You really did grow up around bikes. I’m installing new brakes and lines.”

I gnawed on my lip as I considered Geralt's offer. I got the impression he didn’t laugh very often. He smirked and grinned a lot, but I had rarely heard him actually laugh. While I still wasn’t over the fact that the Brothers had some sort of agreement between themselves about me, what else did I have to do?

“I have to put my clothes in the dryer first,” I said, eventually. “I’ll meet you there.”

Geralt hummed, seemingly pleased. Then, using his hip, he pushed himself upright and nodded towards me as he left the kitchen with a satisfied grin on his face.

After loading the dryer with my clothes, I was just opening the door to the yard when Mike called out to me.

“Babycakes, wait up!” He came jogging up to me with a big grin on his face and leaned down to kiss my cheek. “G says you’re going to hang out in the shop for a while.” 

“Yeah, I am,” I said, a little coldly. 

“Well, after that, why don’t you come to my room?” Mike laid his hands on my hips and drew me close to him.

I raised my eyebrows. “What for?”

Mike lost his grin and let me go. “Walker said you can order some clothes,” he shrugged, “he wants me to supervise.”

“Oh,” I said, feeling a little bad for being so short with him. I forced a smile. “Yeah. That would be great. Thank you.”

He smiled briefly and turned to go, but I reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Mike, I’m sorry, I…” I floundered a little, not sure what I wanted to say to him.

“You’re good,” he said. He put his hand on the nape of my neck and tapped me on the forehead with his finger. “Got lots going on in there, huh?”

My chin trembled a little as I nodded.

“Look, no pressure okay? Just come, order your clothes and hang out.”

“Okay,” I said, letting myself smile for real. “That would be nice.”

“Great!” He pressed his lips against my cheek then let me go. “I’ll see you later.”

Entering Geralt’s shop filled me with a sweet nostalgia. It was like so many I’d been around as a kid and I began to smile as a tension I didn’t realise I held in my neck seemed to dwindle. It was not slick like the garage; instead it was a little worn from regular use and came complete with a hodgepodge collection of tools that would have taken a lifetime to procure. Although it was clean and tidy, there were stains on the concrete floor, it smelled of grease, sweat. 

Most of all, it felt like home.

Geralt raised his eyebrows when he noticed me. His eyes slid down my body, and he shook his head at my attire.

“My clothes are in the wash,” I explained.

He nodded, went to an old filing cabinet, pulled out a huge pair of overalls from the draw and passed them to me. They were ridiculously big on me and I shook my head as Geralt chuckled at my look. 

“Here,” he said as he placed one of my palms against his chest and began to roll the sleeve up. He kept grinning as he did the same to the other side, but then he reached for his belt.

“What—”

“Take it easy,” Geralt interrupted in that deep growl of his.

He slid the belt out of the loops of his jeans in one fluid motion and wrapped it around my waist, pulling it so tight I had to take an involuntary step closer to him.

“Arms up,” he said, tucking the long superfluous end around the belt a few times until it was secure.

“Thank you,” I said, breathlessly.

Smiling, he jerked his head as if to say ‘follow me’ and headed over to a bike raised slightly off the ground on a jack. He crouched down beside it and without looking up said, “Hand me the ⅜ drive socket…”

For the next few hours we worked together, mostly in silence. I handed him tools, cleaned or sorted parts while he kept working. My hands quickly became filthy and covered in grease, but I felt good, finding the work soothing and satisfying. It was like so many afternoons I had spent with my Dad or Hustle, right down to the soft psychedelic rock music coming through the crackly speakers of an old radio.

As we got close to finishing the job, I looked around the shop and saw a bike like the one I used to have; an old Honda CB250. 

“Who's bike is that?” I asked, pointing to the bike.

“Mine. I picked it up as part of a deal from an old barn sale.”

“I learned to ride on a bike just like that,” I explained, “Mum didn’t want me to learn, so I had to buy my own bike, so something cheap and simple I could fix up on my own was important, you know?”

“It’s a good learner bike,” Geralt agreed.

I walked over to it, running my fingers over the tank, a thick layer of dust and dirt came away revealing the fairly good condition of the bright blue factory paint job.

“Mine was the same colour,” I murmured to myself

“You can have it if you like,” Geralt said from behind me. “You can fix it up. It might help stave off some cabin fever.”

I turned my head and jumped as I found his face mere inches from mine. “I couldn’t.”

“I haven’t tried to start it, but the others I picked up at the same time turned over once I replaced the oil, fuel, and did the usual checks,” Geralt said, ignoring my protest.

“I haven’t ridden in years, let alone repaired a bike. I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“I’ll help you.”

“You have a lot of your own stuff to work on.” I looked back at the bike, silently inventorying the amount of work it would need. “It could take weeks.”

“I work when I want to and on whatever I want to.” Geralt put a light hand on my waist and turned me, towards him while undoing my belt. “It’s time to break for lunch, we can start work on it when we get back.”

“I told Mike, I would see him this afternoon.” 

“Will you come back tomorrow and work with me?” Geralt asked as he removed the belt and returned it to his waist, slipping it through the belt loops. “I assume you will spend the night with Marshall again.”

I stiffened. “What's it to you?”

He shook his head, “Thought you might like to spend the mornings with me.”

“I know, you know,” I said. Geralt looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read. “About the pact.”

Geralt hummed.

“You're not going to say anything?” I asked, crossing my arms.

“Do you want me to say something?” he asked, tilting his head in puzzlement.

“Yes,” I exclaimed, unable to hide my exasperation. “You all went behind my back. Why would you think I would agree to that?”

“Because I think it’s what you want too,” Geralt said.

“It's not normal.”

“Do you really want normal, sweetling? You think you want normal because you think it’s what you should want. But you feel at home here. With all of us. With me.”

I didn't answer; I chewed my lip while I tried to think of a way to deny it. But he was right. I didn’t run from the club because I didn’t want to be there anymore. I ran because it wasn’t the club I grew up in, it wasn’t family anymore. These men, these Brothers, for all their faults and infighting were a tight unit; they made the pact to protect themselves and what they had built. 

“I know you’d be happy with us.” 

I gasped as Geralt lifted my chin with the edge of his finger. His amber eyes seemed heavy as they roamed my face and settled on my parted lips. Licking his lips, his hand moved down my throat and I could feel the warmth of his touch reverberate through me.

“Think about it,” he said, his already deep growl sounding rough as gravel. His large firm hand moved to my nape and his fingertips dug into the muscles.

“Are you going to kiss me?” I whispered partly because I wanted him to and partly because I was scared he would.

“I will,” Geralt’s voice was so low, it lulled my mind until my lashes nearly fluttered to a close and I leaned into him. His head dipped until his forehead rested on mine and he inhaled deeply. “But not today, Lori. Not until you’re sure that’s what you want.”

I thought about telling him I was sure, but I was also certain he’d know it for the lie it was. Still, he held me close, his hands drifting slowly down my arms until he took a step back with a sigh.

“Come on,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I’ll make you something to eat.”

He held his hand out, and I slipped mine into it without hesitation.

[justforbooks]

The actor Lou Gossett Jr, who has died aged 87, is best known for his performance in An Officer and A Gentleman (1982) as Gunnery Sergeant Emil Foley, whose tough training transforms recruit Richard Gere into the man of the film’s title. He was the first black winner of an Academy Award for best supporting actor, and only the third black actor (after Hattie McDaniel and Sidney Poitier) to take home any Oscar.

The director, Taylor Hackford, said he cast Gossett in a role written for a white actor, following a familiar Hollywood trope played by John Wayne, Burt Lancaster, Victor McLaglen or R Lee Ermey, because while researching he realised the tension of “black enlisted men having make-or-break control over whether white college graduates would become officers”. Gossett had already won an Emmy award playing a different sort of mentor, the slave Fiddler who teaches Kunta Kinte the ropes in Roots (1977), but he was still a relatively unknown 46-year-old when he got his breakthrough role, despite a long history of success on stage and in music as well as on screen.

Born in Sheepshead Bay, Brooklyn, Louis was the son of Helen (nee Wray), a nurse, and Louis Sr, a porter. As a child he suffered from polio, but became a high school athlete before a basketball injury led to his joining the drama club. His teacher encouraged him to audition professionally, and at 17 he was on Broadway playing a troubled child in Take a Giant Step, which won him a Donaldson award for best newcomer.

He won a drama scholarship to New York University, but continued working, in The Desk Set (1955), and made his television debut in two episodes of the NBC anthology show The Big Story. In 1959 he was cast with Poitier and Ruby Dee in Raisin in the Sun, and made his film debut reprising his role in 1961. On Broadway that year he played in Jean Genet’s The Blacks, in an all-star cast with James Earl Jones, Cicely Tyson, Roscoe Lee Brown, Godfrey Cambridge and a young Maya Angelou; it was the decade’s longest-running show.

Gossett was also active in the Greenwich Village folk music scene. He released his first single Hooka Dooka, Green Green in 1964, followed by See See Rider, and co-wrote the anti-war hit Handsome Johnny with Richie Havens. In 1967 he released another single, a drums and horns version of Pete Seeger’s anti-war hymn Where Have All the Flowers Gone. He was in the gospel musical Tambourines to Glory (1963) and in producer Mike Todd’s America, Be Seated at the 1964 New York World’s Fair.

His plays became more limited: The Zulu and the Zayda and My Sweet Charlie; the very short run of Carry Me Back to Morningside Heights, in which he played a black man owning a white slave; and a revival of Golden Boy (1964), with Sammy Davis Jr. His final Broadway part was as the murdered Congolese leader Patrice Lamumba, in Conor Cruise O’Brien’s Murderous Angels (1971). Gossett had played roles in New York-set TV series such as The Naked City, but he began to make a mark in Hollywood, despite LAPD officers having handcuffed him to a tree, on “suspicion”, in 1966.

On TV he starred in The Young Rebels (1970-71) set in the American revolution. In film, he was good as a desperate tenant in Hal Ashby’s Landlord (1970) and brilliant with James Garner in Skin Game (1971), taking part in a con trick in which Garner sells him repeatedly into slavery then helps him to escape.

In 1977, alongside Roots, he attracted attention as a memorable villain in Peter Yates’s hit The Deep, and got artistic revenge on the LAPD in Robert Aldrich’s The Choirboys. The TV movie of The Lazarus Syndrome (1979) became a series in which Gossett played a realistic hospital chief of staff set against an idealistic younger doctor. He played the black baseball star Satchel Paige in the TV movie Don’t Look Back (1981); years later he had a small part as another Negro League star, Cool Papa Bell, in The Perfect Game (2009).

After his Oscar, he played another assassinated African leader, in the TV mini-series Sadat, reportedly approved for the role by Anwar Sadat’s widow Jihan. Though he remained a busy working actor, good starring roles in major productions eluded him, as producers fell back on his drill sergeant image. He was Colonel “Chappy” Sinclair in Iron Eagle (1986) and its three dismal sequels.

But in 1989 he starred in Dick Wolf’s TV series Gideon Oliver, as an anthropology professor solving crimes in New York. And he won a best supporting actor Golden Globe for his role in the TV movie The Josephine Baker Story (1991). He revisited the stage in the film adaptation of Sam Shepard’s Curse of the Starving Class (1994).

Gossett twice received the NAACP’s Image Award, and another Emmy for producing a children’s special, In His Father’s Shoes (1997). In 2006 he founded the Eracism Foundation, providing programmes to foster “cultural diversity, historical enrichment and anti-violence initiatives”. Despite an illness eventually linked to toxic mould in his Santa Monica home, he kept working with a recurring part in Stargate SG-1 (2005-06). A diagnosis of prostate cancer in 2010 hardly slowed him down.

Most recently, he played Will “Hooded Justice” Reeves in the TV series Watchmen (2019), in the series Kingdom Business, about the gospel music industry, and in the 2023 musical remake of The Color Purple.

His first marriage, to Hattie Glascoe, in 1967, was annulled after five months; his second, to Christina Mangosing, lasted for two years from 1973; and his third, to Cyndi (Cynthia) James, from 1987 to 1992. He is survived by two sons, Satie, from his second marriage, and Sharron, from his third.

🔔 Louis Cameron Gossett Jr, actor, born 27 May 1936; died 28 March 2024

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[renegade-diamonds]

I’d love to hear more abt this arranged marriage au when u have time 👀

Oooooh, boy. I got a lot to say lmaoooooo

First off, let us look at things from Nancy's point of view.

Nancy grows up in a very different environment than Robin does. Robin's family may be poor, but they have history in the area. They have connections and friendships, as well as familial relationships, within the town of Hawkins.

In this AU, Nancy's parents, Ted and Karen, move to Hawkins from a neighboring town after getting married. Ted obviously gets a good job (lets say he manages a factory of some kind), but Karen's always nagging him about making more connections with the community, so he starts reaching out a bit at his job and makes friends with some of his workers. Robin's father gets a cushy office job at Ted's factory, they become fairly good friends under the circumstances, and Rob's dad tells Ted a lot about his family history and the town.

One day, Robin's father is using his lunch to go over profiles of other teens around Robin's age for a prospective betrothal. Ted, who had been mostly unbothered about arranging a betrothal for his kids so soon, asks Rob's dad about the process and how it's going. Rob's father admits that he's having a hard time finding a match for his omega daughter because she's not attracted to men, and only alpha females are considered socially acceptable to betroth to omega females. He wants her to be happy with her future mate, but things are rather difficult to navigate when there's not a whole lot of available options to see

At the time, Nancy had just presented shortly after Starcourt, and Ted's overjoyed (he doesn't show it cause he's Ted) to have a rare alpha daughter. It gives Karen some serious bragging rights for her little clubs, and life's pretty good in the Wheeler household. Nancy's even broken up with her boyfriend, John-something, after discovering their scents didn't resonate following her presentation. Ted knows the Buckley's are pretty well-known, they're not swimming in money, but from what he can tell- Robin's a nice girl with a job, extracurriculars, and she's pretty smart from what her father says.

Ted might not be the most mindfully active person, but he knows an opportunity when he sees one. Nancy's driven and has a bright future ahead of her- she's an alpha, a female alpha...

Exactly what Robin Buckley's father is looking for.

They start talking, discussing logistics. Robin's dad tells Ted about Robin's dreams, about her untraditional viewpoint of life and how she wants to travel and go to college. Nancy's the exact same way; Ted tells him about how hardworking she is, about how she'd be a good provider no matter what Robin decides to do. The two of them jot out a rough contract over the next week, and Ted happily presents it to Nancy and Karen one Friday night after Holly's gone to sleep and Mike's downstairs in the basement with his friends.

Needless to say, Nancy's not happy. She has plans for the future, and one of those plans involved eventually getting back together with Jonathan after their scents settle (she hopes they may resonate again). A betrothal would certainly hamper those plans. She argues with her father, but Ted's not backing down. Arranged betrothals and engagements are the norm, and he's given Nancy so much freedom already, this will be good for her. Karen's hesitant because of the abrupt manner of all this, but she's heard of Robin. She's seen her with the kids and with the Harrington boy. She seems like a good match for Nancy (certainly better than she and Ted were).

Nancy's stuck and she doesn't like it. She argues with her parents all the time, she avoids the weekly hangouts the Party does. She knows Robin doesn't know yet- Nancy's supposed to be on the one to initiate the courting process.

But she can't be around her- not when Nancy can't get over how good Robin smells. She hates it, hates how her inner alpha responds to just the idea of Robin, of claiming the omega, of becoming someone's alpha. She's always had a get-it-done mindset, as her father proudly said after her presentation- Nancy was a go-getter, she was smart, ambitious, and scared of nothing.

Yet she hated the idea of giving in so easily- of finding enjoyment in this trap. She knows the rules, she knows who's paying for her college, who's put a roof over her head, and who's given her the best life possible under these circumstances. Nancy will play along for now, but as soon as she can, she's breaking it off. She can play the long game- she doesn't have to put up with this forever. Both Robin and herself will one day be free of this farce.

Except, she doesn't expect Robin's reaction. The week before school starts, she goes with her parents to meet Robin's parents and pick out the traditional courting gift. She asks the kids to find out Robin's favorite colors from Steve, and finds a bracelet within her parent's (albeit rather generous) price range. It's pretty and about as untraditional as she risks going. She doesn't want to upset Robin, Nancy wants everything to be as smooth as possible, but it's hard to hide her dismay at the whole situation.

She hears her parents talking over the phone with Robin's parents the night before school starts. Nancy listens to their planning unfold, and she's oddly numb to it. She'll get out of it, she will. Before bed, her mother comes into the room and tells her she'll be taking Robin to school in the morning, and that she'll give the omega the courting gift and start the betrothal process. It's not complicated, a lot of it is just posturing and doing things their parents can brag about, but Nancy will play along like she planned.

Morning comes and Nancy gets ready like a robot. She looks her best, as always dressed to impress. She goes through the motions, and heads over to the Buckley's after her parents insist on taking the most embarrassing barrage of pictures she's ever been through. Mike awkwardly wishes her luck, and Holly gives her a giant hug while beaming with excitement for a new sister. It's all so surreal to Nancy, and she has to keep reminding herself that it's not permanent. She sprays a extra dose of scent suppressants and takes off.

Robin's parents open the door for her, beaming grins and all happy greetings. Robin looks shocked to see her, her face pale and blue eyes wide with a tinge of fear.

Nancy hates it- she hates the fact that Robin's scared. She doesn't know how to fix it, doesn't know how to make her feel better. They leave the house and she opens the passenger-side door for Robin, taking her father's advice and being a 'real alpha.' They don't speak the whole way to the school. Nancy hasn't had a chance to be alone with Robin yet, and her scent burrows into her mind and imprints itself there. Nancy's inner alpha is ecstatic, she's obsessed, but she can't face it- she can't allow herself to fall into this. It's just her instincts, it's just her base biology. She's not an animal, she's not going to salivate over this omega like some uncontrollable beast. Nancy's better than that.

They arrive at school and park. The silence stretches on. Robin's fidgeting and obviously nervous- Nancy can smell it on her, even with her suppressants. The omega calls to her inner alpha, and it's unlike any feeling she's ever gotten with Steve or Jonathan.

It's so fucking unfair.

Finally, Nancy can't take it. She turns to Robin and asks her if she knows what's going on- what all this means? Robin shyly replies that she has an idea, with a surprising hint of snark shining through. It stuns Nancy, who quickly looks away to hide the unintentional smile that tries to stretch across her lips. She retrieves the bracelet and shows Robin, who visibly balks at the expensive piece of jewelry.

Yet Nancy can tell Robin likes it, and it pleases her more than she'd care to admit. With forced confidence, Nancy reaches over and fastens the bracelet to Robin's wrist. She takes a moment to admire it, before they return to the silence that dominates their morning.

Nancy sees too many people waltzing around outside their car, and she knows she needs to go check in with the newspaper club before homeroom. She tells Robin to get out of the car, that they're going to be late. She doesn't see the way her future omega's face seems to fall at her tone, nor does she realize just how harsh she's coming across. Robin's far too sensitive to these things, but Nancy's unaware of it. She walks with Robin long enough to ensure they make it into the main building before she breaks off towards her club headquarters.

Nancy's too conflicted about this- she's thinking too much. This is temporary, she just needs to play along for now.

She tries not to acknowledge the way her inner alpha hates the idea of leaving their potential mate. Their scents meld well together, even with all the suppressants they wear. They're compatible, but Nancy doesn't want to admit it- she doesn't want this choice taken from her- from them. This is for the better, she'll talk to Robin eventually, she just needs time.

But as the months past, she drags her feet. Things escalate, and Nancy ends up doing the one things she promised herself she wouldn't do- she hurts Robin.

[aemiron-main]

smthn smthn jonathan has poster of a suggestive half shirtless woman in his room smthn smthn Mike has suggestive posters of shirtless men (buff dragon and conan) in his room smthn smthn the conan poster specifically and the evil dead poster are both movie posters and on the same wall relative to Mike and Jon’s beds (righthand side if ur laying in bed/lefthand side if ur standing facing the bed) smthn smthn the movie posters are also both above smthn related to music (Jonathan’s tape player vs Mike’s guitar)

smthn smthn later on jon also has a REM poster above his bed/perpendicular to the evil dead poster, just like how Mike has the dragon poster perpendicular to the conan poster

smthn smthn mike I know what you are smthn smthn this is a stretch but the evil dead poster and the conan poster being tied together bc they’re in the same position in the rooms and are both movie posters w scantily clad figures smthn smthn the evil dead poster with the hand choking the girl reminds me of max with vecns but also of the vines choking El/El with vecna smthn smthn mike’s queerness (tied to the conan poster) is part of what killed max/made the vines tighten around El because he lied in his monologue because he doesn’t love her romantically because he’s gay.

smthn smthn the posters also have a visual parallel with Conan’s arm reaching up vs the woman’s arm reaching up, they’re meant to be tied together with all the parallels between them.

smthn smthn all there parallels and the posters being tied together but not being the same/sitll being opposites in some ways, such how they’re both reaching up (creating a parallel) but also have opposite hands reaching up (creating the opposite) on each poster and shirtless man vs shirtless woman as the focus of the post, smthn smthn it’s indicative of their sexualities smthn smthn jon is into girls, mike is into men, smthn smthn it’s about mike being explicitly gay too not just into men but also not into girls because Jon’s poster also has a man on it (the arm grabbing the woman), just like Mike’s poster. has a woman on it (the lady crouched next to conan), but Jon’s man/mike’s woman on the posters aren’t the focus AND they’re not the ones being sexualized in the same way bc they’re not shirtless (conan is shirtless for mike, the woman is almost shirtless for Jon), and male hand on Jon’s poster is paralleled to the position of the woman on mike’s conan poster smthn smthn for mike, girls/expectation to be attracted to girls is what’s choking him/killing him/making him repress himself which also tied into how like I said, the El and max choking parlalles and mike’s monologue and how the choking was the result of mike’s lack of attraction to girls (girls also being the hand choking mike too) because if he ever loved El/was ever attracted to her, he wouldn’t have needed to lie abt it and therefore El wouldn’t have been as choked by the vines/henry.

and I’m not saying that the lady on the conan poster isn’t sexualized, I’m saying that conan is showing more skin and that the lady on Jon’s poster is more sexualized than the conan lady and parallels conan and therefore conan vs evil dead lady are the two main objects of sexualization in the context of ST bc they’re the ones being paralleled to eachother.

smthn smthn lonnie calls Jon’s poster “inappropriate” smthn smthn mike’s queerness (represented by the conan poster) is deemed inappropriate

[cherrylng]

Guitar Princes - Part 2 [STYLE Series #004 - Muse (August 2010)]

The original prince of guitar is undoubtedly this man, Led Zeppelin's Jimmy Page. The length of his arms and legs, the way he held his guitar …… Everything about him was cool, and he was admired by men and women of all ages around the world.

Peter Frampton was popular as an idol during the “hard” era of the 1960s, and later had a string of hits with Humble Pie and as a solo artist. Peter Frampton is still active today after many twists and turns. He used to be cute.

The late Matthew Ashman (right), with his beautiful mohawk, and the members of Bow Wow Wow. John Frusciante, formerly of the Red Hot Chili Peppers, was an admirer of Ashman's.

The Prince of Glam is, after all, Marc Bolan of T. Rex. He was popular for his fine permed hair and slender, sparkling fashion. He lived with witches, died prematurely in a car accident, and there's no shortage of legends about him.

Paul Simonon (third from left) is the most legitimately good-looking member of The Clash, with each member having a different charm. His two sons, Louis and Claude, are also models!

Nick Heyward of Haircut One Hundred, drew a lot of cheers wearing an Aran jumper from enthusiastic female fans and caused a whirlwind in the genre of Funka Latina. Even now that he has become an old man, he still looks somewhat cute.

Paul Weller, the dashing, fashionable leader of The Style Council with Mick Talbot (left), who appeared at The Jam and became a solo artist and an influence to Oasis and Ocean Colour Scene.

The uncle who co-wrote Band Aid's “Do They Know It's Christmas” with Bob Geldof? No, no, it's Midge Ure, the “Bearded Prince” of the Ultravox era.

Scottish bard Mike Scott's cut from his Waterboys days. Many girls were attracted to Mike's appearance more than his deep traditional sound at that time.

Edwyn Collins was the frontman of Orange Juice. He may not have a beautiful appearance, but his unique guitar sound is still as appealing today as it was in the past.

Guitar Princes Part 1 Guitar Princes Part 3 Guitar Princes Part 4

[radicalfemimist]

gonna delete my other interactions with That Person because I don’t think it’s worth arguing with them. and honestly I feel bad for the nice or like. the normal bisexuals because SO. many. of these bisexuals are aggressively annoying about it. every lesbian I know has had a bad run-in with a bisexual.

Because this particular bisexual person also seemed to have a fundamental misunderstanding of how writing fucking works in a way that makes me SO mad.

Because like— you can headcanon that any character with straight hair really has curly hair and straightens it. You can. Word of god can even confirm that’s the case! But that STILL doesn’t matter if canon doesn’t portray them with curly hair. Because even something as seemingly insignificant as curly hair is going to have a domino effect on the character.

If they straighten it, why? Are they insecure? Have they been made fun of? Is it because it’s too much work? Why does Word of God say they have curly hair, but none of their childhood pictures have curly hair? Why isn’t there a hair straightener in their bathroom?

If there’s none of those things— then the character doesn’t have fucking curly hair, now do they? Even if later in the series their hair becomes curly, is there any evidence to support that the hair is naturally curly? Do they have a hair regimen they follow? Do they have curly hairbrushes? Sleep in a bonnet? No? Then they’re not written to have curly hair.

Only thing is, romance is a whole fucking lot more noticeable than with ever or not they give a curly character a bonnet. Romance can make or break a story. And it’s pretty fucking important for the characters to be attracted to each other.

There are SO, so many ways to showcase sexual attraction. Even in kids shows, you can! And it doesn’t have to be with their endgame romance, either! Luz Noceda, a bisexual character written by a bisexual woman, shows attraction to Shirtless Angsty Boy, Edric and Emira and Amity, blatantly. The last of which is her endgame relationship. (Because if a bisexual character is ending up in a relationship, it’s waaay better to have it be a same-sex relationship— considering Lumity is probably why Disney cancelled the show in the first place.)

And like, for shows actually about adults— New Girl. All the men in this are bisexual. Nick Miller is definitely bisexual. It’s not stated explicitly, but he’s explicitly attracted to women and seems to have feelings towards men he is actively in-denial of. Psych — Shawn Spencer’s actor has literally said he played him to be bisexual, and it shows. I’ll believe he’s attracted to women for Abigail alone. I’ll believe he’s attracted to men for everything else.

I’ll believe Sokka is bisexual. His romances with Suki and Yue are believeable enough. Like, I’m not saying nothing can be bisexual— I AM saying that it has to actually be bisexual to be bisexual, though.

Anyway. Zuzu isn’t canonically gay but it makes more sense if he is and for a more compelling story— the fire nation is canonically homophobic, so if he’s gay then that’s another thing for his father to consider wrong about him, since he can’t fall in love with a woman. And Mike? Well, if he were bisexual he’d be a filthy, filthy cheater and I’m personally against media portraying bisexuals as cheaters. As it is, he’s like aggressively gay-coded.

And I am soooo tired of seeing bisexual Jamie Kelly allegations. I know hardly anyone seems to talk about these books but.

she’s LYING to you! she doesn’t actually have a crush on Hudson! She’s literally supposed to be an unreliable narrator. She calls him the 8th cutest boy in her school and calls Angeline the prettiest girl in the world. She thinks it should be illegal for girls to be too pretty. She went through a year-long phase as a kid of drawing nothing but naked Barbies. She describes Angeline as causing “everyone” to feel a “mild, but pleasant burning sensation.”

Like YES, yes it DOES offend me for people to interpret these characters as bisexual— and you know why? Because comphet is a universal gay experience. Because people STILL cite the comphet things I said as a kid as proof of my “heterosexuality”. There’s so many gay people who have been in straight relationships before, or who have pretended to have straight crushes.

If a character’s only proof of heterosexual attraction is comphet, then they’re not experiencing heterosexual attraction. If the only proof is a forced, stale straight romance that the writers threw in there effortlessly, of which the character is not shown to be into? Then that’s not a character experiencing heterosexual attraction.

[spicybylerpolls]

So I just read a really interesting review of the gay WW1 novel In Memoriam, and the reviewer (in a respected newspaper) is describing this adolescent, boyish, somewhat cowardly attraction between the two boys. 

Although they later prove themselves physically brave, Ellwood and Gaunt are cowards in love. Despite being well inducted by other boys into the improvised physical intimacy widely practised at their Wiltshire boarding school, Preshute, their own relationship remains chaste and hesitant: affectionate; Tennysonian; intensely sexless. Both characters are recognisable stock figures of boyish adolescent romance.

Now, it’s well and easy to say such in today’s era when homosexuality isn’t punishable by death, but in terms of Mike and Will, they’re going to explore in fine detail in s5 how and why both Mike and Will have been so careful. But what gets my eye is the mature way of discussing sex. If anything, works are often taken LESS seriously when they are coy about sex, because they suddenly seem embarrassed or childish or Disney-ified. I cannot imagine a more opposite view to the byler sex antis on here, who say, instead, that portrayal of adolescent sex is paedophilic. Can you imagine how you would be dragged to shit by any literary or film critics worth their salt for thinking that? For thinking that teenage sex is inherently bad or paedophilic? 

The review goes on to say:

Both young men torment themselves in attempts to hide their attachment from one another and themselves. It is a losing battle, the first of many they will see as war draws close.

Oof it sounds familiar! 

But mainly, the reviewer (a man) is appreciative of the detail that the author (a female) put into the work as regards sex:

Winn has written against the grain of her “lived experience” in another way too. In addition to not being a veteran of the First World War, some quick detective work in the acknowledgments section of the book reveals that she is also not a homosexual Edwardian adolescent. In fact, she does an intelligent job here too at simulating the male imagination, and although the sex remains carefully speculative, there are occasional observations of striking acuity. (“Gaunt’s prick was a little smaller than his. Ellwood had noticed that a long time ago, at school, had found it ruinously attractive.”)

I want to point out that this last quote comes before these characters engage in any sexual activity together in the book. 

And this comes on the back of the author running the novel by her male gay and bisexual friends for realism before publishing:

‘I had one friend who was really generous and candid about how to make the sex scenes feel real, but also about how to make the characters – outside of the sex – behave more like men. I mean, I don’t want to put too fine a point on this, but I remember at one stage he asked me, “So, who has the bigger penis?” And I was like, “I don’t know!” And he said, “Well, the characters know!”’ 

- Alice Winn

So there we are! Have Mike and Will ever showered together in the gym at school? We see the high school boys do this at Hawkins in s2, but Mike and Will have never been together at high school. Either way, there’s an acknowledgement here of the fact that teenage boys think very differently about sex than girls, and that if you want to create a piece of art that not only is enjoyable and exciting and compelling, but respects its characters and source material, you must be realistic about those character’s thoughts and experiences. I can understand prudishness a little, but to go as far as to call people who are calling for sexual realism in a coming of age story paedophiles????????? What is your aim?????? Feel free to be afraid of sex until you can figure it out, but do not call others who are engaging with something natural and normal perverts and degenerates. It’s not just cruel, but completely ignorant. 

In short, Mike and Will have definitely thought about and possibly know who has the bigger penis - and yes, they’re also very interested in that topic. 

Okay first of all, I'm definitely adding that book to my reading list! I love queer coming-of-age period pieces. Thanks for your service to the spicy byler community!

Second of all, this brings up a lot of interesting points. I especially love your point that, "If you want to create a piece of art that not only is enjoyable and exciting and compelling, but respects its characters and source material, you must be realistic about those character’s thoughts and experiences." So true! I think Bylers are typically really good at understanding this concept, but for whatever reason they completely throw that out the window once sex is in the picture.

"In short, Mike and Will have definitely thought about and possibly know who has the bigger penis - and yes, they’re also very interested in that topic."

[love-kurdt]

Thick Skull (byler): V

word count: 6,186

warnings for this chapter: consensual underage... activities, internalized homophobia, fighting, graphic depiction of violence

Hit over the head, epiphany / Over my head, repeatedly Thick skull never did nothing for me / Same lesson again? Come on, give it to me

“We should be getting home… It's past curfew. See you tomorrow?” Lucas checked his watch before standing up, taking Max’s hands to help her up. Dustin rose from his spot as well, giving Will one more hug on his way to the door.

“Yeah, sounds good,” Will agreed, “safe travels!” Mike nodded beside him with a grim look on his face, which appeared more often than not these days. Will watched as their friends put on their protective gear to face the spores outside, and filed out of the basement doorway one by one. It still felt strange not following them. He couldn’t really accept the reality that Mike’s home was also his for the time being. Before their friendship fell apart the summer prior, he would have been basking in the glory of living in the same house as Mike. But recently, between Mike’s weird behavior, mixed signals, and potential lie about a life-altering event, all he wanted to do was escape.

He turned around once the door closed, beginning to clean up the empty snack bowls and Coke cans that littered the basement carpet. Once everything had been thrown away, Will approached the staircase, but Mike stood in his way, leaning against the wall.

“So, you're out now, huh?”

Turns out they were going to talk about it.

“Yeah. I think Vecna was using that as an angle of attack, if that makes sense.” Better to be practical than to make assumptions about where the conversation would go. It wasn’t like he was expecting anything out of it. Then again, Will’s standards were practically on the floor. Scratch that, his standards were in the Upside Down at this point. He couldn’t be let down any more than he already had.

The young men stood in silence for a few seconds. Hesitation. Contemplation. Debate on what to say next, and who would say it. Will felt blood pulsating and thrumming at an alarming pace in his eardrums, and he feared that if Mike were to speak, he wouldn’t even hear it.

“It does make sense,” Mike told him, taking a step forward while his gaze danced across Will’s face. Will could feel Mike’s breath on his face as he spoke, the minute space that separated them making itself evident. “That was really brave of you.”

Will felt his breath catch in his throat. He gulped, and he felt his stomach twisting in upon itself in knots. “Thanks.”

Where to go from here, Will thought. He felt as though he were a magnetic force, with Mike constantly drawing into his space and leaving very little distance between them. Predictably, Mike would then repel himself from Will if he showed any signs of reciprocation. Because that– mutual affection– would make it real. Polar opposites attract, and all that. He searched Mike’s eyes for any signs of wanting to end the conversation, but the raven-haired boy in front of him gave off an equally persistent aura, emulating desire. Will tore himself away from Mike’s stare, not keen toward any form of false hope. He gestured towards the stairs. “So, do you want to–”

But Mike pulled Will against his chest so suddenly, and so close that Will could feel both of their heartbeats inside him. Will, caught incredibly off guard, stood frozen for a few seconds before registering what was happening; Mike was hugging him, his arms wrapped around Will’s waist, threatening to never let go. Will cautiously lifted his arms up to wrap around Mike’s neck, his hands meeting in the middle. When Mike breathed Will in, seemingly encouraging whatever was happening, Will pressed his face into Mike’s shoulder, fully embracing his best friend with all the love he could express within a hug. He could be okay with this.

That sentiment changed the second he felt Mike’s lips meet his jawline. Then something in Will broke. Or was put back together. He’d decide later; right now, he couldn’t take the tension any longer. He’d spent years of his life quixotically imagining what it would be like to be physically intimate with Mike Wheeler, and he’d be damned if he relinquished the possibility of bringing it to life. He pulled away from Mike, feeling himself unravel as he slowly dragged his eyes upwards until they found Mike’s lips. And that was it.

Will captured Mike’s lips with his own, moving his hands so they held Mike’s face in place, so he could never escape. He felt the heat rising to the taller boy’s cheeks, and the grip around Will’s waist became even tighter, with Mike’s fingers digging into his hip bones and wrapping around his belt loops. Mike pressed harder into the kiss, prying Will’s mouth open with his own. He’d always been slightly skeeved out at the prospect of making out with someone, because, duh, germs. But Will concluded at that moment that, as weird as it sounded, he wanted all of Mike’s germs if it meant making out with his paladin forever. And by the sound of Mike’s incessant humming, he felt similarly.

With this newly acquired knowledge came a boost of confidence, which led Will to walk backwards, guiding Mike with one hand on his waist and the other caressing his face. Mike let a small noise of surprise escape, but immediately caught on and followed Will’s embrace. That was until Will tripped backwards over the carpet, effectively breaking the kiss. Luckily enough though, since they were in such close proximity, Mike was able to catch Will by his arms before he plundered to his untimely death by floor decor.

Before Will could get too flustered and ruin the moment, he collected himself and his thoughts. But then, he looked back up at Mike, and was shocked to see him laughing hysterically. His nose crinkled up in the cute way it always did as his laugh dwelled in the higher register of his vocal range. The pressure of perfection lifted off of Will’s shoulders. He snickered at his own clumsiness while Mike continued to laugh, all while significantly increasing his grip on Will’s muscular biceps. Their laughing died out after some time, leaving the two boys to their own devices, heavy breaths lingering in their shared space.

It hadn’t even been a full ten seconds before Mike grabbed a fistful of Will’s hair with an intense resurgence of pure impulse. Will met Mike in the middle and felt their teeth clash together, but he didn’t care in the slightest; couldn’t if he tried. The presence of pain rescinded itself the moment it came into contact with the force of nature that was Mike Wheeler.

Mike whined a little bit when Will drew away from him, but instantly changed his tune when he was pushed down into a reclined position on the couch. Mike looked up at Will with a gleam of insatiable hunger in his eyes, and that unmistakable, mutual reflection of want, want, want. Will practically jumped the boy below him, shoving his tongue down his throat, and Mike’s hands hovered before landing on Will’s ass, groping with shameless abandon.

Will gasped against Mike’s mouth, his brain actively melting inside of his skull. Mike took that moment of vulnerability as an invitation to flip Will into a seated position against the couch, crawling on top of him in a very familiar way that had Will convinced that either his dream had not been fictitious to begin with, or what he was currently experiencing was just one huge dream turned possible nightmare; that is, if he were to wake up. Mike ran his hands down Will’s chest and torso, a form of worship neither of them were accustomed to, yet neglected to reject. Will’s hands drifted from Mike’s shoulders down his back, and held Mike close to him. One hand strayed to the front of Mike’s jeans, and that’s when–

“What are we doing, Will?”

Will gulped, contemplating his next move. Initiative, charm, strength… damage? Where’s a D-20 when you need it?! He settled on a naïve, “What do you mean?”

“I mean… this,” Mike flicked his hand between their chests, causing Will to raise an eyebrow in slight confusion. Mike shook his head, his eyes lifting above Will’s bowl cut to stare at absolutely nothing as he rephrased. “I mean… you know. Right?”

No, actually. I don’t know, Will thought, biting his tongue to prevent those words from actually leaving his head. While he could be frustrated that Mike was fumbling for words, he couldn’t hold back from feeling a bit glad that out of all the times he could have made it awkward, he wasn’t the one to make it awkward. Mike visibly struggled to figure out what to say, so Will shifted his hands— which were still firmly gripping Mike’s hips— up and back a bit until they found his waist. He smoothed his thumbs over the bare skin there to at least provide some form of comfort. “Maybe elaborate a little?” he prompted.

“Yeah,” Mike shut his eyes tightly, seemingly seconds away from smacking himself. He moved his own hands to hold Will’s, and gently pried them off of him, dropping them into Will’s lap seconds later like they were on fire. Now, Will was thoroughly confused. “Uh— we’re not playing spin the bottle anymore, you know,” Mike told him.

What?! We aren’t?! Will thought, sarcasm laced through his internal monologue. I thought we were playing Spin the Bottle this entire fucking time!!! … Of course Will knew. He wasn’t dense. Horny, definitely, but not dense. He sank back into the couch with his eyes closed, and felt Mike’s weight shift off of his lap and onto the cushion next to him, and the heated atmosphere that they’d created ceased to exist.

“I didn’t think we were,” Will replied, “But can I at least tell you something?”

Mike nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Will turned towards Mike, holding onto his attention like a lifeline. 

“Promise you won’t leave?” he asked, to which Mike just snickered, reaching his thin hand over to touch Will’s knee. Even after all they’d done together, he still managed to make Will blush.

“You couldn’t make me leave, even if you tried, Byers.”

“Okay. I…” Will hesitated, his eyes downcast, but then hesitated to hesitate. There was no use in hiding anything, not now. “The kiss meant something to me. I’ve been in love with you since we were thirteen. I mean, probably earlier on than that, I just didn’t know what those feelings meant.” He looked up at Mike, his facial expression unreadable. Keep going. If not for Mike, then do it for yourself. 

“After last summer, I thought I’d lost you forever. And when I moved away, it hurt a little less, but every time El mentioned you, I got jealous. Because I hated her for having you.”

Mike, for once in his fifteen years of life, was at a loss for words. He sat there, staring at Will in shock. He blinked a few times before returning to his body, stuttering out, “But… it’s– it’s not El’s fault!”

Mike was one to talk about faults.

“I know,” Will shook his head, trying to find out how to say what he wanted to in a less complicated way, “I know it isn’t, but it felt like I didn’t matter to you at all once El came into the picture. Even when she was halfway across the country, I still didn't matter!”

“You moved halfway across the country with her!” Mike stood up from the couch, taking a few steps away.

“So this is about us leaving?” Will pressed, getting up to follow Mike in case he tried to run. He didn’t get to run, not this time.

“I mean, yeah!” Mike threw his hands in the air, exasperation in his tone. “Sue me for being upset about losing the two people that matter most to me!”

“Oh no,” Will rolled his eyes, “I’m so sorry, Michael, for leaving the town that made my life a living hell.”

“Vecna made your life a living hell, Will!” Mike raised his voice for the first time that night, and didn’t notice when Will winced. “What about me? You have me! You have Dustin! Lucas! Max! You have people here who lo– care for you!”

Will let out a mirthless laugh at that. He cares. That’s rich. “Well, I didn’t necessarily have anything holding me back. We… us… were dead. And I already know you’re going to dump the responsibility on me, so don’t even try. You killed us on your own.”

“...What?” Mike asked, narrowing his eyes.

He couldn’t be serious. Did he truly not understand what had happened to their friendship? Did he not remember how it fell apart? Did he not recall that day, after a failed D&D campaign, running after Will in a rainstorm? Did he not recall those eight words that cut Will’s last remaining ties to the town that he craved escape from, and that he’d rather die than live in again? 

“Are you seriously gonna make me spell it out for you?” Will took a step closer to Mike, who, uncharacteristically, didn’t back away, but instead advanced towards Will. 

“Spell what out for me? What the fuck are you talking about?!”

“IT’S NOT YOUR FAULT I DON’T LIKE GIRLS!” Will shouted, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He’d tried to keep his composure, but that fight in the rain was still a fresh wound, and just the thought of it was still painful. This apparently still resonated with Mike as well, as he winced at his own words being thrown back at him.

Well, at least he hadn’t forgotten. He looked remorseful. Convicted, even. He found himself at a loss for words for the second time that night, sitting back down on the couch in surrender. This provided Will with ample time to formulate his next question. He sat down next to Mike, extending his hand. Mike tentatively took it, slowly intertwining their fingers as if the world would implode if they did.

“Why did you and El really break up, Mike?”

“I don’t…” Mike ran his free hand through his hair, his eyes filled with a wild, defensive energy. “Will, this is insane. Why do you want to know?”

Will played with Mike’s fingers between his own for probably what was to be the last time, as he prepared to put his magnet metaphor to the test. “Because… if I’m reading into this correctly… you might feel the same way for me that I do for you.”

As previously predicted, Mike instantly recoiled. “What makes you think that?”

“Oh, come on, Mike,” Will retaliated, “Be honest, you liked that kiss. You know it, I know it, the party knows it.”

“I kissed you the way friends playing spin the bottle do. I’m not gay,” Mike said, looking emotionally exhausted as he leaned forward, pressing his forehead into his palms. Will could feel Mike’s anguish radiating off of him against his will. But Will remembered his experience with the Shadow Monster and how his mom had to burn it out of him, and he had an idea to give Mike some perspective. He’d just have to push a little more.

“What about just now, then?”

Mike looked up at the mention of that. “You kissed me, Will. Not the other way around.” Despite Mike’s claim, Will could see the walls building behind his irises, which grew larger as soon as he looked at him. It might’ve been easy for Mike to lie verbally, but his eyes said otherwise.

“You were literally just on top of me, and before that, you were grabbing my ass,” Will told Mike, point blank. “Explain that.”

“Yeah, well, it was… heat of the moment stuff, right?” Mike responded, more in the form of a question. He continued, “That’s got to be it. I'm not into… guys.”

Perhaps Will had gone too far. Maybe Mike was right, and had just made a few missteps. He resolved that if anything were to develop between them in the future, it would be in Mike’s hands; he wouldn’t beat a dead horse. 

“Oh. Well, then,” he shrugged. “I guess I got the wrong idea.”

“Maybe you did,” Mike stared straight ahead of him at the wall, looking extremely conflicted as his inner demons ate him alive. Will almost felt pity in that moment for him. But then Mike took a sharp breath and spoke again: “And it’s not like I went down on you or something, I only kissed you. It’s different.”

Will felt the color drain from his face. “Wait…”

“What is it?”

“Is this real?”

Mike pressed a feather light kiss to Will’s lips before settling down next to him.

He brushed some hair out of his face before he replied, “No.”

Will’s sense of reality had been severely warped ever since he’d first been abducted by the Demogorgon and dragged into the Upside Down. Once he got back, he was possessed almost right away by the Shadow Monster. Not even a year later, he and his friends were battling the Mind Flayer in the Starcourt Mall. And when they didn’t think it could get any worse, the controller of it all tore their town into four, stealing multiple lives in the process. The chaos never ended; Will never had the chance to truly experience a relatively normal life between all of that combined with a PTSD diagnosis. So, even something as simple as Mike blowing him had Will questioning his own sanity.

Will had analyzed all of the signs into oblivion. He’d talked it out with his brother, he’d come out to his friends and family, and he’d pushed boundaries with Mike that he never would have believed he’d agree to in a million years. With all of that evidence, it seemed more than possible for that night to have been real. The problem with this was how Will would address it, and if he’d address it at all. If he were to be right, maybe Mike would begin to see himself in a different light and, in time, come to terms with who he was. But if he were to be wrong, he would’ve opened up to Mike about a horribly perverted dream he’d had, then Mike would take back what he said about never leaving, and that would most likely be the end of their friendship.

He couldn’t tell him.

“Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Okay.” Mike’s response was simple and lacking substance. It was like he’d completely dissociated and moved on from the conversation before it even ended, similarly to when he’d shut down after kissing Will senseless. Will wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

“I mean, if it’s any consolation to you, I enjoyed the kiss too,” Mike confessed, and Will bit his lip, trying not to cry. “I just don’t… I’m not in… yeah. You know?”’

Will nodded, his voice breaking. “Yeah, I think I do.”

Mike stood up, déjà vu hitting Will over the head as Mike awkwardly clapped his shoulder– ‘Oh! Hey! Howyadoin?’– and said, “Well, I’m gonna go upstairs now, see you in a bit?”

“Yeah, okay.” Will whispered.

Mike grabbed his shirt and haphazardly tossed it on, and briskly made his way across the room, taking one last look at Will before jogging up the stairs.

Will shut his eyes tightly, finally letting himself cry. He pulled his knees up against his bare chest, trying to remember what it felt like to have Mike’s heartbeat against his own, and cried even harder when he still could.

I pick 'em up and now my fingers are bleeding And it looks like I'm caught red-handed

Mike closed the bathroom door, leaning against it and immediately lifting his hands to cover his face. How could he have been so fucking stupid? As if his inability to come clean about that one night they spent together wasn’t enough, he kissed Will. Again. Actually, solely “kissing” would be sugar coating what really happened. God, what was wrong with him? Mike felt his head begin to spin, and he slid down the wall and onto the cold tile floor.

He lost control. That could be the only rational explanation for his behavior. He lost control and gave into his unrelenting temptation. Otherwise, kissing Will would have almost felt… good? Logical? Favorable? Dare he say… normal? He couldn’t imagine kissing anyone else ever again. Not after Will. It would be the ultimate betrayal.

Despite having a serial liar for an alter ego (lying to Will, lying to his friends, lying to his family about who—and what— he was), he didn’t have to lie to himself about the feelings he’d reserved in his heart for his best friend. And he didn’t not want to feel this way. He didn’t not like pulling Will into his chest, breathing in his scent and wishing he could make it into a candle. He didn’t not like pressing his lips onto Will’s neck, giving into the urge to lightly nip at it with his teeth, just to see what his skin would taste like. He didn’t not like having Will’s tongue shoved down his throat without permission (not like Will would need it, anyway). He didn’t not like the feeling of Will's deep voice entering his own mouth with the moans he elicited from him. He didn’t not like groping at Will’s perfect ass, and trying not to freak the fuck out over how satisfying it was after having thought about it for such a long time.

He didn’t not love Will. He just… he couldn’t.

He’d seen how Will arrived at school when they were little. He noticed the bruises covered up with Joyce’s off-shade foundation. He’d encountered the devil face to face when he’d gone to the Byers’ house to ask if Will wanted to ride bikes with him. He’d gone home and seen his dad yelling at the television on several occasions about spreading aid to other people. He was always taught that aid was a good thing, so why would his dad speak about it in a tone laced with such powerful disdain? He found out later on that there was a world of difference between the definitions of “aid” and “AIDS.” Kids pushed him down in the courtyard during recess, calling him some of the things Will’s dad used to call them. He’d watch Will get taunted in the hallway, and would have to sometimes physically shield him with his gangly arms from the perpetrators. His parents borderline mocked him when he told them he had a girlfriend. He could never win. Being friends with Will also meant enduring various forms of hardship, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. Because in those low places, Mike would recall that day on the playground; the first time he felt loved, cherished, safe.

And one fateful day in the summer of 1985, it hit him that ever since he introduced himself to the shy boy on the swings– the best thing he had ever done–, his life revolved around Will. No matter who else entered or left his life, no matter where he was, no matter what monsters from an alternate dimension existed out there, they merely existed within his peripherals. Will was always at the center of his universe. No one would ever truly or fully understand the power Will had over him. Mike was a compass, Will was Mike’s true North. All signs pointed to Will, and it had taken Mike an embarrassingly long time to comprehend the depth of his emotions. Mike’s feelings for Will did not emerge from a sense of want, but of pure need. He closed his eyes, deep in thought.

The high probability of the Party accepting him seemed promising. They welcomed Will with open arms. But what if he were to come out just to be accused of coming out just because Will did? They wouldn’t do that to him, though. But how could he know for sure? Just look at the way he acted towards Will that summer, practically the poster child for projection. And look at the way that he had let Will sit there in the van to cry by himself when all he wanted to do was hold him close and kiss his forehead and comfort him like a boyfriend would, and not just a friend. Look at the way he lied to Will’s face right after the most clandestine of moments they’d shared together, claiming it to be all in Will’s head. He wasn’t sure how he could ever come back from that, if even at all. If a younger version of himself were to watch the events of the past few years go down, he would be in complete and utter shock at Mike’s sheer audacity. He would believe this to be out of character for himself, because it was true; young Mike never would have treated Will like he had in a million years. But people change, and apparently become increasingly imbecilic with age. So who’s to say that any of the other members of the Party were any less capable of acting out of character, just like Mike had?

On a more obvious note, the odds of his family accepting him were low. Every conversation involving his father would somehow end up on the topic of the gays going and killing themselves for the sake of the meager illusion of love. Even when not explicitly mentioned, the whole town of Hawkins had preemptively labeled the young Byers boy as a homosexual. So when Will went missing, Ted had nonchalantly assumed the worst. Mike could read between the lines; his father seemed content with the prospect of his best friend being in harm’s way, as if Will deserved a horrific thing that happened to him. In the Wheelers’ eyes, people like him had it coming the second they acted upon their attraction. They would never love him for who he was, not if he were honest. But what if he just chose to withhold the truth? What if he could avoid telling them anything at all? He couldn’t come out if he were dead.

Mike promptly decided to get off the bathroom floor. If he took a few steps across the way to the cabinets below the sink, if he opened them, if he located a pack of his father’s razor blades, and if he grabbed a pair of scissors and broke the razor blades’ tough plastic frame, he couldn’t feel it happening. His mind was not his own, not anymore. As he gently held the blades in one hand, he turned on the faucet to the bathtub in the other, the timbre of the rushing water matching the white noise in his own ears. 

His family wouldn’t want to find him stark naked, so Mike opted to leave his clothes on. He stepped into the tub, cringing at the sensation of his jeans clinging to his ankles, but pushed through the discomfort. He sat down in the tub, which slowly filled with scorching hot water, and Mike couldn’t help but let a few tears escape his eyes. He couldn’t do one thing. He couldn’t just force his feelings deep down like all the other “straight” gay men. He had to go and fall in love with Will, and give him so many fucking obvious reasons to believe that he requited Will’s feelings. But what was life worth if every day was filled with vitriol aimed towards him like a never ending supply of flaming arrows? If he were gone, he’d at least spare the world one more person to hate.

He already knew what his dad would say. He had it coming. He lifted one of the razors to his left wrist, pushing down and pulling a vertical line down the expanse of veins underneath his skin. He watched as blue became black as the blood left his body, then black became red with oxidation. He did this to himself. He grabbed another razor and lifted a shaky hand to his right wrist, pulling his eyes away from his watch, its identical match just across the hallway on Will’s wrist. He pulled down, sobbing as he did so, but not due to physical pain. That watch, flashing 11:11pm, made Mike feel as if Will was there with him, watching him die. He’ll become another statistic, and maybe then, this… gay business will finally be put to a stop. Mike lifted his forearms onto the edges of the tub and closed his eyes, praying for the sweet release of death to find him sooner than later. A sense of euphoria overcame him. Maybe death wasn’t so bad after all.

But suddenly, realization smacked him like a train: he didn’t leave a note. He didn’t leave a note, and Will would feel incredibly blindsided and inevitably blame himself. He needed to find a way to tell Will why he’d killed himself. It was the only way he could die with a clear conscience. When Mike attempted to move his body, stars shone in his line of vision, everything becoming severely blurred with a tunnel-like effect. Mike’s arms were thrashing in the bloody water, but he physically couldn’t feel anything; his nervous system was shutting down. He became ultimately trapped inside of his failing body, his mind racing with regret. Mike’s vision grew darker, and his limbs lost their durability, falling limp at his sides under the water’s scarlet surface. Impulsivity breeds implacability. The damage was already done. It was too–

Late.

Mike’s eyes snapped open, and air slowly filled his lungs again. He tried moving his arms, surprised to see that there were no wounds in sight. He felt the cool tile through his socks, and he let himself exhale in relief. He was still on the bathroom floor. He was still alive. An emotional wreck, but alive nonetheless. What surprised him most, though, was the way his world eclipsed when he was alone with his thoughts. Hopelessness choked the life out of him, shrouded him in complete darkness. And that scared the shit out of Mike. He kept replaying his death over and over in his mind, attempting to make sense of it all. 

He eventually came to the realization that it wasn’t society he was trying to spare regarding his coming out; he wanted to spare himself from the grief of losing his family, his friends, and everyone else he knew. None of the past few hours had made any logical sense. None of the thoughts in Mike’s head had a singular molecule of rationality. The one thing he was certain of, however, was that he loved Will, and he couldn’t live (or die) with himself if he kept Will in the same darkness he’d just experienced.

Mike promptly decided to get off the bathroom floor. He needed to tell Will how he felt, because sitting there waiting for his life to pass him by wasn’t doing anyone any favors. He needed to bite the bullet. Fuck the consequences, he and Will were soulmates. If he had one reason to stay on Earth, Will was it. He took one short look in the mirror, vigorously rubbing his palms against his face to wake himself up, and proceeded to unlock the door and determinedly head across the hallway into his bedroom.

He opened the door, and Will’s head lifted up, his eyes now on Mike rather than the sketchbook in his hands. Mike shut the door quietly, making sure to discreetly lock it behind him before lowering himself onto the mattress that Will sat on, the eye contact connecting them ceasing to break. “I’m in love with you. Every single thing that happened that night was real, and I’m in love with you. And I’m sorry for lying to you about that, but I’m being completely transparent right now. I don’t know what’s going to happen next. But I want to be with you. As a friend, as a lover, whoever you need me to be. I just needed you to know that I’m wholeheartedly, endlessly, beyond in love with you.”

Will opened his mouth to say something, but Mike was quicker. He reached for Will, and within seconds, Will was reaching right back, consuming all of Mike’s senses. When Will began to take the lead again (or maybe he wasn’t even trying, maybe he was just more comfortable with the idea of kissing a boy, but Mike would digress), he murmured, “Nuh-uh,” against Will’s lips, kissing back with as much love as he could convey through a single kiss. He pushed Will back onto the pillows at the top of the bed, lifting and swinging his leg over to straddle Will’s. He lowered himself down to the love of his life’s level, drinking in the sight of his kiss-swollen lips. How did I get so lucky?

“I don’t know, I’ve been asking myself the same thing,” Will replied, and Mike paled, realizing he’d asked his rhetorical question out loud. But Will, the cocky motherfucker, followed up with, “And by that, I mean I’ve been asking myself how you got so lucky. Because I’m a fucking catch.”

“That you are, baby,” Mike laughed, leaning down again to kiss Will’s lips, then his neck. He slid his hands down to Will’s shirt, pulling away for a split second to lift it swiftly over Will’s head. Mike couldn’t tear the grin off his face when Will did the same for him, tossing the loose shirt through the air and across the room into the void that was Mike’s laundry basket.

From then on, everything was a blur of kissing, touching, and heaven. Mike let Will take him, all of him. He kept reminding Will between kisses that he loved him, that he would do anything for him, that he wanted to be with him forever, and that Will was his heart.

After, Mike’s head found a home on Will’s chest, and their legs wrapped together amongst Mike’s sheets. He finally understood what it felt like to truly love someone. He hadn’t felt like this in his entire life. He smiled to himself at the thought, and pulled back so he could admire the beauty that was Will Byers. It was too good to be true. But it was.

“Mike,” Will whispered, and Mike brushed his palm against Will’s cheek. 

“Will,” he muttered back, pressing his nose into Will’s hair and breathing in. He heard Will’s breathing get heavier, and he went to kiss down Will’s neck again before– 

“Mike.” 

He pulled away to see what was wrong, but he couldn’t…

“Mike.”

Mike blinked, noticing he was still standing in the doorway to his bedroom. Fully clothed. Had he never left that spot? Judging by the anticipatory look on Will’s face that silently asked him “Are you gonna move or what?”, he was certain that his bold, curious, and lovelorn imagination simply took a hold of his brain once again. He nearly laughed out loud at the bitter irony; and he’d just experienced a vast series of hallucinations, after he’d convinced Will that their sexual encounter was all in his head. 

‘Well, if we’re both going crazy, we’ll go crazy together, right?’ ‘Yeah. Crazy together.’ If that wasn’t karma biting him in the ass, then it was Vecna messing with him. Or maybe, just maybe, it was Mike’s morals hard at work, reinforcing his subconscious guilt.

What if it wasn't too late? What if he just took a deep breath, walked through the door, and ripped off the bandaid? No. He couldn’t do it. No matter how much he wanted to, he knew he would always be too scared to admit his love to Will. And at this point, he’d already added insult to injury, poured salt in the wound, and twisted the knife in one fell swoop. He saw no reason to prolong Will’s suffering. He’d caused enough of it already.

He headed over to his bed, got under the covers, and turned off the light on his nightstand. He looked down at the silhouette of Will’s profile. He was so beautiful.

“Night, Will.”

“Goodnight.”

Mike heard Will shift in his sleeping bag to face away from him, and Mike closed his eyes, accepting his damnation. But then he heard something, something that was barely there, but only loud enough for it to make Mike’s heart sink with guilt.

While Will cried himself to sleep, there were multiple times where Mike wanted nothing more than to be next to him, or wanted to at least say something, but he couldn’t move. He was utterly frozen. It was only when Will’s sobs subsided into slow, shallow breaths that he could open his mouth to call out, “Hey Will?”

No response.

“I love you too.”

previous part

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[wisehearts]

(I'm sending this to all my fav spicy byler accs!)

So I just read a really interesting review of the gay WW1 novel In Memoriam, and the reviewer (in a respected newspaper) is describing this adolescent, boyish, somewhat cowardly attraction between the two boys. 

Although they later prove themselves physically brave, Ellwood and Gaunt are cowards in love. Despite being well inducted by other boys into the improvised physical intimacy widely practised at their Wiltshire boarding school, Preshute, their own relationship remains chaste and hesitant: affectionate; Tennysonian; intensely sexless. Both characters are recognisable stock figures of boyish adolescent romance.

Now, it’s well and easy to say such in today’s era when homosexuality isn’t punishable by death, but in terms of Mike and Will, they’re going to explore in fine detail in s5 how and why both Mike and Will have been so careful. But what gets my eye is the mature way of discussing sex. If anything, works are often taken LESS seriously when they are coy about sex, because they suddenly seem embarrassed or childish or Disney-ified. I cannot imagine a more opposite view to the byler sex antis on here, who say, instead, that portrayal of adolescent sex is paedophilic. Can you imagine how you would be dragged to shit by any literary or film critics worth their salt for thinking that? For thinking that teenage sex is inherently bad or paedophilic? 

The review goes on to say:

Both young men torment themselves in attempts to hide their attachment from one another and themselves. It is a losing battle, the first of many they will see as war draws close.

Oof it sounds familiar! 

But mainly, the reviewer (a man) is appreciative of the detail that the author (a female) put into the work as regards sex:

Winn has written against the grain of her “lived experience” in another way too. In addition to not being a veteran of the First World War, some quick detective work in the acknowledgments section of the book reveals that she is also not a homosexual Edwardian adolescent. In fact, she does an intelligent job here too at simulating the male imagination, and although the sex remains carefully speculative, there are occasional observations of striking acuity. (“Gaunt’s prick was a little smaller than his. Ellwood had noticed that a long time ago, at school, had found it ruinously attractive.”)

I want to point out that this last quote comes before these characters engage in any sexual activity together in the book. 

And this comes on the back of the author running the novel by her male gay and bisexual friends for realism before publishing:

‘I had one friend who was really generous and candid about how to make the sex scenes feel real, but also about how to make the characters – outside of the sex – behave more like men. I mean, I don’t want to put too fine a point on this, but I remember at one stage he asked me, “So, who has the bigger penis?” And I was like, “I don’t know!” And he said, “Well, the characters know!”’ 

- Alice Winn

So there we are! Have Mike and Will ever showered together in the gym at school? We see the high school boys do this at Hawkins in s2, but Mike and Will have never been together at high school. Either way, there’s an acknowledgement here of the fact that teenage boys think very differently about sex than girls, and that if you want to create a piece of art that not only is enjoyable and exciting and compelling, but respects its characters and source material, you must be realistic about those character’s thoughts and experiences. I can understand prudishness a little, but to go as far as to call people who are calling for sexual realism in a coming of age story paedophiles????????? What is your aim?????? Feel free to be afraid of sex until you can figure it out, but do not call others who are engaging with something natural and normal perverts and degenerates. It’s not just cruel, but completely ignorant. 

In short, Mike and Will have definitely thought about and possibly know who has the bigger penis - and yes, they’re also very interested in that topic. 

Ohhhh these are super interesting thoughts!

to create a piece of art that not only is enjoyable and exciting and compelling, but respects its characters and source material, you must be realistic about those character’s thoughts and experiences.

Respect is a great word here. Especially in the case of mike and will where you have people who either think their intimacy is dirty and weird, or you have people in the fandom and queer community deeming byler as a sweet and 'pure' ship and both are harmful mindsets. To dismiss part of the adolescent experience RE: the party and sexuality (if lucas and dustin can have references to sexuality in s4, why can't mike or will?), is to not respect characters people claim to love. Being realistic is so important given the time period, sexuality IS part of their love story. I think the whole party will have little scenes referencing their sexualities next season, even more directly this time, and hopefully how normal it is just slaps people in the face.

Anyway, I think atp mike and will have without a doubt thought about each other's dicks but I don't know that I think they've seen each other's! There's every chance that the other three in the party have now, since they started high school together and probably use those showers, but will didn't (maybe he did in lenora? 👀) so he's the odd one out there.

There's this fan script that I really love wherein will changes in the bathroom stall at school, and I think that's really realistic, both for will removing himself from opportunities to be bullied for being around other naked boys, and maybe for if he has any guilt or stress about being around other naked boys. If he goes to high school next season, I could really see that. The actual shower situation though I'm not sure! Would he have to or does anyone know alternatives to showering at school? We don't do that here so idk

@ your last point: I think the fandom is always moving the goal posts, if it's no longer a problem to discuss byler's sexuality narratively, it's now gross to 'fantasize' and explore through headcanons, or explicit posts and smut fic. Which we know isn't true, and they'll lose that leg to stand on when the party is aged up next season. Calling fellow queer people perverted degenerates and parroting conservative rhetoric, over something fictional... could not be me!

Thanks for sharing that review!