#mike's active attraction to men

[aemiron-main-backup]

the st soundtrack choices and the way that they’re edited and incorporated are fucking genius seriously you guys it ties into the narrative and queerness and other themes so well and also if you enjoy my gay mike analysis you’re def gonna want to read this imo

if i ever start talking about the ST song choices and their relationship to songs/song choices regarding songs that are seemingly pro-protest and anti-conformity but are actually still safe enough to still enforce the norm and have  been ACTIVELY USED by conservative politicians to give the appearance of counterculture and rebellion while still upholding and enforcing the norm while giving their supporters the illusion of rebellion and freedom, and how oppressors like to frame themselves as the underdogs and how not only do oppressors/rightwingers want to squash counterculture music and expression but also will actively steal and twist it to make it reinforce the norm and fit their agenda, i Will Not Stop talking about it, like once that can of worms is opened it is uncloseable sorry. 

yes i am staring DIRECTLY at “raise a little hell” being used for steve’s party which is tied to conformity and seems like rebellion but actually isn’t rebellion (like how jonathan talks about how nancy is just a suburban girl who thinks she’s rebelling but is actually just doing the same thing as other suburban girls) 

yes i am staring DIRECTLY at ‘rock you like a hurricane’ and ‘shout at the devil’ and ‘the four horsemen’ and billy, somebody who sees himself as counterculture and rock and roll but in reality is using rock and roll to reinforce dated, bigoted beliefs and promote hatred. and how all of those songs, despite all being rock songs, occupy different subcultures and tie into politics and culture in very different ways. 

like they didn’t do this accidentally, this pattern of songs is constant and it’s backed up by scenes like what i mentioned with steve and jonathan and nancy and conformity. and thats why i have a LOT TO SAY ABOUT THE SONG CHOICES IN S4 RELATIVE TO S4′S THEMES OF ANTI CONFORMITY AND HOW WE HAVE TO LOOK PAST THE SURFACE AND JUST ARGHHHHH 

like i remember seeing a genius quote about it in an article awhile back (not abt st specifically but about the phenomena of how conservatives and those who want to maintain the norm use rock and roll and previously counter-culture efforts in order to twist it and enforce the norm): 

“rock n roll isn’t dead, rock n roll is alive and wants tax cuts for the rich”

it’s not just limited to rock and roll though, pop songs that are deemed to be nostalgic and counterculture are used in that way too (even if they actually ARE counterculture and QUEER TOO, they get twisted), specifically Rise Up by Parachute Club comes to mind, which isn’t in st, but similar songs ARE and thats why im so excited to analyze them, because Rise Up was thought to be a queer anthem but was used WITHOUT PERMISSION as the theme for the United Alternative convention (a canadian rightwing convention) and im certain that there’s other pop and rock songs in ST that have similar things that have happened to them, in addition to the ones that i’ve already mentioned 

imo this ties into why we don’t HEAR any really harsh metal etc. it’s not an accident. there’s a REASON why metal doesn’t play for eddie until his scene at the end and also why they chose master of puppets specifically and how rock music is literally constantly used as a puppet to reinforce the norm under the guise of rebellion and how EDDIE STILL DIED DESPITE HIS REBELLION and how master of puppets is also about drug use and how people think that they’re in control/the master but they’re actually the puppet of their addiction just like how people often think that they’re being counterculture and progressive but they’re actually reinforcing the norm (see: billy) 

and reason this ties into why we hear a KISS song during the hellfire game instead of a dio song or an iron maiden song or any of the more harsh metal songs that eddie is CLEARLY A FAN OF, ones that LITERALLY HAVE FUCKING SONGS ABOUT WIZARDS AND DND RELATED THINGS but they didnt use that but they DID use ‘detroit rock city’ but they CUT THE SUBSTANCE OUT OF IT JUST LIKE HOW CONSERVATIVES CUT THE SUBSTANCE AND COUNTERCULTURE OUT OF SONGS WHEN THEY TWIST THEM FOR THEIR OWN NARRATIVE, because they cut out the intro of detroit rock city where a radio broadcast plays talking about a boy in a car crash AND they cut out the car crash at the end. and this ties into what im saying about cutting the substance out of it because without the context, the song just seems like it’s about rock and roll and having a fun time and a guy recklessly driving to a concert.

but WITH the context, we learn that the guy that the song is talking about, the one driving recklessly to a concert, IS THE ONE WHO THE RADIO BROADCAST IS TALKING ABOUT, THE ONE WHO DIED. because we hear the CRASH AT THE END. but the show didn’t include the radio broadcast OR the crash!! because THEY LITERALLY REMOVED THE DANGER and the SUBSTANCE OF THE SONG THEY REMOVED THE FULL CONTEXT, JUST LIKE THE CONSERVATIVES, THE SHOW USED IT TO SUPPORT THEIR OWN NARRATIVE AND NOT SHOW US THE FULL PICTURE/NOT MAKE US AWARE OF THE DANEGR (THE DANGER BEING A.) HOMOPHOBIA AND CONFORMITY BUT ALSO B.) THE LITERAL DANGER OF VECNA AND HOW WHAT HAPPENS IN THE DND GAME MIRRORS WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED WITH HENRY/VECNA BUT HOW WE DONT REALIZE IT BECAUSE IT JUST SEEMS LIKE A GAME. and THAT’S just like how the GA sees dnd and the dnd arc in s4 as being JUST about the game, as JUST hearing ‘detroit rock city’ without the context and thinking it’s just about a guy going to a concert, not realizing that it’s about his DEATH AS A RESULT OF THAT CONCERT, just like how the dnd and hellfire arc in s4 it was NEVER just about dnd, it’s about queerness and the aids crisis and homophobia too. 

Just like how the satanic panic was NEVER JUST ABOUT DND but the media and conservatives manipulated the rhetoric to make it seem like they were just scared of the game. It was about hating outcasts, upholding the norm, homophobia, and all forms of bigotry.

It was about control and maintaining the norm, anti-conformity.  and this lack of use of actual metal music up until master of puppets also ties into how rock music and metal specifically was demonized in the satanic panic and how while people could see eddie as being counterculture and would demonize metal music, they never actually take the time to get to know him just like how they never actually take the time to listen to metal music. because just like how if they took the time to get to know eddie, they’d realize he isn’t evil, the same applies with metal music. and this sounds like im pulling stuff out of my ass but this is why eddie mentions ozzy osbourne to steve and that’s why steve narratively doesnt know who ozzy osbourne is.

 it’s not just a random scene, the purpose of this scene is to tie “not getting to know/listen to eddie” to “not getting to know/listen to metal”- why? because OZZY OSBOURNE AND BLACK SABBATH IS LITERALLY KNOWN FOR HAVING VERY POSITIVE MESSAGES ABOUT PEACE AND LOVE AND KINDNESS AND ANTI-WAR IN THEIR SONGS. BUT PEOPLE CAN’T SEE PAST THE HARSH METAL OF IT TO ACTUALLY LISTEN TO THE MUSIC. JUST LIKE HOW THEY CAN’T SEE PAST EDDIE’S APPEARANCE AND GET TO KNOW HIM. Steve doesn’t *know* who ozzy osbourne is, just like he doesn’t know eddie, just like how people don’t know metal music, just like how people make baseless assumptions about both of them. 

THIS IS ALSO WHY WE SEE STEVE BITING A  BAT, JUST LIKE EDDIE MENTIONS OZZY DOING: BECAUSE STEVE AND OZZY ARENT THAT DIFFERENT, BLACK SABBATH AND THE BEATLES ARENT THAT DIFFERENT, MUCH OF THE CORE MESSAGE IS THE SAME, MESSAGES OF LOVE AND PEACE AND ANTI WAR.This is why we don’t hear ‘real’ metal music in s4 until the end, with master of puppets, because people aren’t seeing eddie for who he is, people, the audience, literally aren’t hearing the music until the end, people don’t see eddie for what he is (a good person and a hero) until he is dead.

Just like how people NOW see the fact that black sabbath is full of good messaging, but didn’t see it at the time (which also ties into how black sabbath HAS been used in present-day to reinforce the norm). And all of this ties into ‘shout at the devil’ too, and how Billy and so many people at the party but esp Billy and his character, don’t realize what the song is actually about (motley crue talking about how ‘hey i mean technically this supports you christian folk, because it’s shout AT the devil, not WITH the devil,’  but how that’s rooted in sarcasm because the rightwing christians don’t realize that THEY are the devil, just like Lucas’ ‘normal’s just a raging psychopath’ quote, they don’t realize that their ‘normalcy’ IS the hatred) and then ALSO how ‘shout at the devil’ has been repurposed by nostalgic rightwingers trying to reinforce the norm while thinking that they’re rebelling (ie, again, those rightwingers think that they’re the victims, that they’re shouting at the devil, not realizing that they ARE the devil.) 

Just like how black sabbath’s messaging of peace and love but also taking action and even violence against hatred WAS counterculture, because the current culture is hatred, so love is the real counterculture. Just like how I’ve talked about before, having a happy ending for the queer characters is the most counter-culture thing that the show could do, more counter culture and shocking than any violent bury your gays death could possibly ever be, because those circumstances are the NORM, queer success and joy and happiness is the real counterculture. 

and how we DID hear metal music with Billy in previous seasons, with him listening to Metallica, but how that’s tied to the fact that BILLY is the one not hearing the music, ignoring the counterculture reality of the lyrics and instead continuing to conform with misogyny and racism and homophobia and heternormativity, he sees hatred as counterculture which is not true because the current norm and culture is rooted around hatred and bigotry. 

 and then how THAT and the satanic panic ties into a queer allegory and the aids crisis panic and how the music choices circle back to that and how the oppressors tend to see themselves as the oppressed and position themselves as victims (cough Jason cough and cough catholic victim complex cough and the people pushing the satanic panic acting as if they were the ones being being targeted when in reality they were the ones targeting others and how during the aids crisis, homophobes etc saw themselves as the victim of ‘the predatory gays trying to give them aids’ instead of seeing the aids victims as the victims and how it ALL TIES TOGETHER and how VECNA SEES HIMSELF AS THE VICTIM WHEN HE’S THE OPPRESSOR HE SEES HIMSELF AS SAVING PEOPLE AND HAVING BEEN VICTIMIZED WHEN HE IS THE ONE VICTIMIZING PEOPLE!!!!!

AND HOW ALL OF THESE BIG THEMES TIE INTO THE CYCLE OF ABUSE IN A BIG WAY BUT ALSO IN A MORE PERSONALIZED AND SMALLER SCALE WAY WITH ABUSERS SEEING THEMSELVES SOLELY AS VICTIMS AND CONTINUING TO PERPETUATE THAT ABUSE. EVEN LONNIE POSITIONS HIMSELF AS THE VICTIM IN A ROUNDABOUT WAY WHEN IT COMES TO WILL’S DEATH, WANTING TO COLLECT MONEY AS ONE OF THE ‘VICTIMS’ OF THE QUARRY’S NEGLECT/WILL’S DEATH. MEANWHILE, LONNIE WAS THE ABUSER TO WILL, LONNIE WAS THE ONE WHO HURT WILL. BUT HE POSITIONS HIMSELF AS A VICTIM, JUST LIKE HE DOES WITH JOYCE AND JONATHAN, WHEN HE’S TALKING TO JONATHAN IN S1, HE TALKS ABOUT “maybe i’m not the bad guy,” and how JOYCE is the problem. Abusers and oppressors positioning themselves as victims is a constant theme in ST and it only makes sense that it would be reflected in the music, which is why i DONT think that i’m looking too far into it with this writeup!! 

and yes this also ties into the s3 trailer baba o riley remix LIKE GOD I NEED TO WORK ON MY ST MUSIC ANALYSIS I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY and how theres a reason why they use certain songs from the 70s vs the 80s and themes of nostalgia but also of using that nostalgia to reinforce the norm of heteronormative, conservative and hateful beliefs. 

and i also have a LOT TO SAY ABOUT THE SONG CHOICES FOR WILL AND JONATHAN AND THOSE SONGS BEING USED IN A GENUINELY COUNTERCULTURE WAY WITH WILL BEING GAY AND JONATHAN BEING AN OUTCAST AND HOW BEING COUNTERCULTURE ISNT ABOUT WHAT YOU LISTEN TO BUT ABOUT WHO YOU ARE AND HOW EVEN THOUGH SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO IS ONE OF THOSE SONGS THAT  *HAS* BEEN USED BY THE RIGHTWING TO REINFORCE THE NORM, THE *WAY* THAT ITS USED AND PRESENTED IN ST AND IS LITERALLY ONLY EVER USED IN SITUATIONS WHERE THE CHARACTERS CAN HEAR THE SONG VERSUS OTHER SONGS LIKE ‘ROCK ME LIKE A HURRICANE’ THAT ARE USED IN A WAY THAT CHARACTERS CANT HEAR THEM AND SO ITS NOT ABOUT WHAT THE SONG IS SO MUCH AS IT IS THE ACTIONS TIED TO IT AND HOW ITS BEING USED AND HOW THAT LITERALLY APPLIES TO HOW THE SHOW USES IT BUT ALSO  HOW IT GETS USED IRL AND HOW EVEN SONGS THAT ARE GENUINELY COUNTERCULTURE GET STOLEN AND USED TO REINFORCE THE NORM AND HOW SONGS THAT WERENT INTENDED TO BE COUNTERCULTURE CAN BECOME COUNTERCULTURE AND AND AND 

JUST ARGHHH I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND ALSO HOW WE HAVE SONGS *ABOUT* ROCK AND ROLL BUT ARE LACKING IN ACTUALLY GETTING TO HEAR THOSE ROCK AND ROLL SONGS THEMSELVES

Regarding songs that are about rock and roll but not actually really rock and roll songs, I am staring DIRECTLY at you, ‘rock and roll hoochie koo’ and ‘rock me amadeus’ in s4 and even ‘detroit rock city’ which sure its a rock song but its also ABOUT ROCK, we get more songs ABOUT ROCK than we do ROCK SONGS and even with detroit rock city, like i said, they REMOVE THE CONTEXT, and it’s very interesting to me, especially with the rock song, ‘play with me’ by extreme that plays when mike is looking for dnd players and how that ties into my gay mike analysis- sorry not sorry- and into the themes of conformity for mike but explicitly how those themes tie into him being GAY, not just that he’s affected by conformity, because he IS affected by it in multiple ways outside of his sexuality, but it’s also explicitly tied TO him being gay and how just like the dnd arc was never just about dnd/games and is also about homophobia and queerness AND how games/dnd has been tied to mike and will’s sexualities and relationships, the song ‘play with me’ is not just about games/mike trying to find people to play games with, it’s also about mike trying to figure out his sexuality/who he wants to be with/’play’ with (be in a relationship with/who he’s attracted to.

 and that’s why we get so much ‘mike doesn’t like women’ imagery in those scenes but ALSO more ‘mike DOES like men’ imagery in those scenes and in the van scene with ‘boy’ behind his head whereas in previous seasons the imagery was more focused on ‘mike doesn’t like women’ and how a lot of his attraction towards men in previous seasons was directed towards Will Specifically rather than acknowledging his attraction to men as whole (ie in S4, he has the word ‘boy’ beside his head instead of the word ‘will’ behind him or something representing Will, whereas in s3, we see things representing Will Specifically rather than boys as a whole, things like the Will the Wise drawing beside Mike’s head when he’s making out with El in the bedroom) but now in s4, mike is coming to terms more with his attraction to men as a whole. 

and how mike may be disgusted with himself about his attraction to men but just like how other people/will’s love for mike specifically makes Will feel better/not like a mistake/helps him get over his internalized homophobia, mike’s love for will specifically is what helps him get over his internalized homophobia regarding his active attraction to men, just like how i said, we saw the imagery shift from “attraction to will specifically vs lack of attraction to girls as a whole (rather than lack of attraction to el specifically)” to “attraction to men as a whole specifically in addition to attraction to will and how his attraction to will helped him come to terms with that attraction to men vs still having that lack of attraction to girls as a whole because he’s already come to his realizations about that in s3″

especially with mike’s obvious crush on eddie and how he’s branching out in attraction to men as a whole outside of will because he’s already realized his lack of attraction to girls but is now figuring out his attraction to men in s4 AND how this STILL ties back into how will/mike’s love for will helped him get over his internalized homophobia AND into the music choices in st, because the songs that play during the mike-eddie cafeteria scene are “i was a teenage werewolf” and “fever,” and how long story short the “Teen Wolf” poster in the video store 100% represents Will, especially with ‘Teen Wolf’ literally having a scene where the character comes out as a werewolf but the other person asks them initially if they’re coming out ‘as a fag’ (and theres a million other parallels to will that i could go into but wont for the sake of the length of this post but WILL go into at another time so just take my word for it rn or go look for yourselves at the movie), and so then,  we have “fever,” a song about infatuation that represents mike’s crush on eddie/his sexuality/attraction to men as a whole, but then also ‘I was a teenage werewolf,” a song that TIES THAT ATTRACTION/ABILITY TO COME TO TERMS WITH HIS SEXUALITY to his FEELINGS FOR WILL. It’s not just his crush on eddie that helps him come to terms with it/admit his sexuality for himself, it’s that his feelings for will help him come to terms with his CRUSH ON EDDIE and with his sexualty, since again, like I said, Mike may be able to apply that internalized homophobia hatred to himself, but he CANNOT APPLY IT TO WILL. 

And how all of THAT is part of WHY mike seems to go back into the closet (in terms of being out to HIMSELF) at rink o mania/in lenora, why we get ‘in the closet at rink o mania,’ because MIKE IS LITERALLY GOING BACK IN THE CLOSET.

because WILL is what makes him feel better about his sexuality, but now that he’s having conflict with will, he’s questioning his sexuality too/his willingness to be out, ESPECIALLY SINCE LIKE I TALKED ABOUT IN ANOTHER POST, HE SEEMS TO THINK THAT WILL TOTALLY HAS A CRUSH ON ANGELA AT RINK O MANIA, SO NOW NOT ONLY IS HE DOUBTING THE IDEA THAT WILL COULD HAVE FEELINGS FOR HIM BUT HES DOUBTING THE IDEA THAT WILL LIKES MEN AT ALL.

AND SO IF MIKES LOVE FOR WILL IS TIED TO HIS ABILITY TO BE OPEN WITH HIMSELF ABOUT HIS SEXUALITY AS A WHOLE, THEN WHEN HE FEELS LIKE HE’S LOSING WILL/IT ISNT REQUITED/HE’S WRONG ABOUT THINKING THAT WILL COULD BE GAY, THEN HE STARTS TO DOUBT HIMSELF AND HIS OWN SEXUALITY TOO AND WHETHER OR NOT HE’S ACTUALLY GAY OR IF THERE’S JUST SOMETHING ELSE ‘WRONG’ WITH HIM/IF HIS LACK OF ATTRACTION TO GIRLS COMES FROM SOMETHING ELSE. 

AND SO MIKE IS LITERALLY GOING BACK INTO THE CLOSET AT RINK O MANIA HES LITERALLY GOING BACK INTO IT DESPITE THE CLOSET DOOR BEING OPEN IN S4 EP1 DESPITE HOW HE SEEMS MORE LIKE HIMSELF AND PLAYS DND IN HAWKINS BUT THEN TOTALLY CHANGES IN LENORA. He’s BACK in the closet at rink o mania, but started closing the door as soon as he saw will/was gay panicking and having doubts. 

And how imo that ties into why we see so much bi imagery at rink o mania, but how I still think that aligns with gay mike and actually plays a key role in backing up what i’ve said here about the connection between mike’s love for will and his ability to get over his internalized homophobia/embrace his attraction to men: because we specifically see WILL in front of the bi imagery more than we do mike: because not only is mike reconsidering his own ability to be out/his own attraction to men, but he’s also reconsidering any suspicions that he may have had about Will being gay, because he seemingly sees Will having a crush on Angela, which i talked about at length in this post, and how like i’ve said before, when you look at the evidence objectively without the context of Will’s sexuality being confirmed, WILL seems like the possibly bi one because his sexuality isn’t nearly as framed around lack of attraction to women as mike’s is- and mike doesn’t have that outside ‘will is gay’ confirmation from noah schnapp/the duffers, so he IS relying on that ‘objective, in-the-show- evidence,’ but actually has even LESS evidence than us for will being gay and not bi, because Mike hasn’t seen things like the conversation between Hopper and Joyce about Lonnie calling Will a fag, he hasn’t seen Will’s pov the way that we have, at rink o mania, he hasn’t seen Will making a painting for him, he didn’t see Will’s reaction at the sauna, there’s so much gay Will imagery that mike HAS NOT SEEN. 

He’s seen the homophobic bullying etc though, so he does still have enough to go off to suspect that will could be gay/into men, but he doesn’t have confirmation, and he DEFINITELY hasnt seen a ton of ‘will explicitly doesn’t like women imagery’ because even we are the audience havent seen very much of that, not nearly as much as we’ve seen for mike, which, mike’s own lack of attraction towards women is what he’s going base his analysis of Will off of, and we know that mike has a LOT of scenes where he’s put into a situation where he feels that lack of attraction, whereas not only does will have many, he has EVEN FEWER that mike actually gets to see (ie, the girl in lenora, mike doesn’t see that)

which, THAT, imo is why we see the bi imagery at rink o mania, when the two of them are fighting and mike is confused about his sexuality and will’s sexuality, but see way more explicitly gay/not interested in women imagery everywhere else in the show. it’s not that they forgot to put the bi imagery in other scenes and instead their hand slipped and they put explicitly gay/lack of attraction to women imagery. it’s that the bi imagery at rink o mania serves a specific purpose in regards to will and mike’s dynamic and sexualities and trying to figure themselves and eachother out. (not that bi people are just confused but that this is the 80s and that will and mike are trying to figure out labels and mike is trying to figure out if will IS bi and mike is trying to figure out if hes going to continue to try and pretend to  have attraction to women/stay in the closet due to the connection between mike’s relationship with will vs mike’s ability to embrace his own sexuality) 

(which, just expanding on that, like i said, mike has seen the homophobia that will’s faced AND mike in s3 feels like he’s seen will having a lack of attraction to girls- the ‘day free of girls’ scene despite the fact that that scene was more about will’s friends ignoring him than it was about will’s attraction to girls, we’re looking at this from mike’s pov- so i think that mike could absolutely have suspicions that will IS gay and that it’s not just random bullying IN ADDITION to his own hopes about his feelings being requited)

It’s like how if Lucas was mike’s “straight” guide (mike going to lucas about girls in s3 constantly and letting lucas take the lead and how lucas also pushes mike towards el when making fun of him in 1), then Will is mike’s gay guide LMAO.  It’s not that Mike is only gay if he can be with will/if will is gay: mike is still gay regardless, but it’s about mike’s ability to accept and embrace that gayness. Especially since if Mike is being internally homophobic to himself and believing in the homophobic stereotypes, then he, in his mike brain, has to also apply that hatred/stereotypes to Will, which is where it becomes difficult for mike and why Will is tied to mike’s ability to embrace his sexuality outside of just his love for will specifically. 

And how while Mike’s love for will is what helps him get over his internalized homophobia, his platonic love for el is what helps him get over his heteronormativity (he experiences BOTH imo because heteronormativity alone does NOT explain his disgust and shame towards HIMSELF during the sauna scene and how he was the one holding the door open etc etc but thats a topic for the full gay mike analysis) because he’s hurting her as a result of it and doesn’t want to hurt her because he DOES love her platonically and care about her!  And so that’s the thing. Mike’s love for Will is tied to his active attraction to men/his internalized homophobia, whereas his platonic love for El/his relationship with El is what’s tied to heteronormativity.

This is also why I don’t believe that Mike has been intentionally using El as a beard all along, because El isn’t narratively connected to the internalized homophobia side of things, she’s connected to the heternormativity side of things. 

and how THAT ties into that fact that gay mike works SO WELL with el and her arc and character and how once el finds out that it was never ABOUT HER as a person, that it’s not that mike doesnt LOVE HER but rather that he’s not attracted to girls AT ALL, she’s going to be HAPPIER than if she found out that mike just fell out of love with her for who she is or something about her/that mike chose Will over her. That’s REALLY one of the big things that makes me a gay mike truther is because if he wasn’t gay, El wouldn’t need to be set up the way that she is as a character, wouldn’t need to be set up in such a specific way with a lack of knowledge about homophobia, wouldn’t need to be set up as a character who’s felt inherently unloveable for who she is, wouldn’t need to be set up as being twins with Will/the writers clearly not just wanting to pit them against eachother, wouldn’t need to be set up in a way where BOTH her and mike don’t understand attraction/romance, because if she was a typical straight girl not raised in a lab, she would have a better/even just a more existent understanding of romance and attraction due to the pressures of heteronormativity that results in girls having to face those topics at a young age, and so then, Mike would be the only one in the couple who doesn’t understand it/is having to figure it out from scratch because he’s gay. But with the way that El’s set up, it’s meant to put them both on equal footing with not understanding attraction/not having a great knowledge of its existence/what it is/how it’s defined and how it feels. 

And sure, they’re kids and of course ANY kids don’t understand attraction perfectly: but a gay kid in the 80s and a girl raised in a lab have less of an understanding of it/experience with it. And absolutely, bi people did NOT have it easy in the 80s, I’m not saying that it was easier for them to understand their feelings, I’m saying that they DID have feelings towards the ‘opposite’ gender, whereas for Mike that attraction to the ‘opposite gender’ it’s a blank slate because it doesn’t exist for him, just like it is for El, because it didn’t exist for her in the lab. 

If mike was anything other than gay, El wouldn’t be need to set up in a way where Mike being gay is the best-case scenario for her relationship with him and her own arcs and themes and having a happy/satisfying conclusion to them. 

So many girls in the 80s who aren’t El, who HAVE been raised with that heteronormativity and understanding of attraction/even if they dont understand, having more of a knowledge of its existence at ALL than el does from a young age would be angry and very likely homophobic if they found out that their boyfriend was gay. But El won’t be. And that way, her relationship with Will isn’t hurt, her relationship with Mike isn’t hurt by him being gay (whereas if he was anything but gay, their relationship would be hurt by him ‘falling out of love’ with her for who she is/something about her, but if he was never in love with her, and isn’t into girls at all, then it’s not about her), that way, El isn’t put into a position of having to choose whether or not to be on the same side as homophobes, who are portrayed consistently as the bad guys in the show. 

(I am NOT saying that El being mad at mike would be homophobic. I AM saying that if she was set up in a different way, she would have to make the CHOICE of being homophobic or not, of what side to be on, but this way, she isn’t put into that position, which aligns more with her narrative and character)

And like we see in the s4 bedroom fight, El is upset about Mike not saying he loves her, but I also think she’s more upset about Mike lying to her. She KNOWS that he doesn’t show that he’s in love, but she wants to see if he can even say it, if he’ll lie about it or not, and I think the REAL hurt comes from him lying about it. 

And so, if Mike is gay, then not only is “mike lying to el about being in love with her” resolved, but “el being hurt by mike not loving her/feeling unloveable for who she is” is resolved, because it was never ABOUT HER. 

And sure, “mike lying to el about being in love with her” could be resolved if mike was bi and just fell out of love with her and then was honest with her about it, but again, that doesn’t align with a.) the cracks in their relationship from the VERY BEGINNING IN S1 and b.)  with a satsifying conclusion for el’s arc, themes, and characters, and with her and mike and will all staying on good terms with eachother. 

Like I’ve been saying: if not el, then who? Then WHAT GIRL if will specifically wasn’t an option bc it’s not just that he wants to be with will? If mike isn’t in love with el/attracted to her but IS still attracted to girls, then WHAT WOULD HE CHANGE ABOUT EL? WHAT GIRL DOES HE WANT? HE’S ALREADY TRIED TO MOLD HER INTO HIS ‘IDEAL’ GIRL FROM S1 TO S3 AND NOT IN AN INTENTIONALLY HARMFUL WAY BUT IN A ‘VERY INFLUENCED BY HETERONORMATIVITY AND TRYING TO MAKE EL MEET THE SAME EXPECTATIONS THAT HE FEELS HE HAS TO MEET’ WAY. BUT THAT STILL WASN’T ENOUGH!!!

Because Mike’s ideal girl DOESNT EXIST. And the closest that we get to it, the scene where Mike initiates the affection, the closest we get to him being attracted to her (even though he isn’t, but it’s the closest scene we get), is when El is a.) dressed more stereotypically masculinely, b.) she looks so similar to will that the guy at the police station literally mistook her for will and c.) she has very little understanding of the world/unique personality/ability to articulate that personality (she does have a unique personality but it isnt SHOWN to mike very much in s1 compared to the other seasons which is the thing).  

The closest that we get to Mike being attracted to El, the scene where HE initiates it for once (even during the makeout/affection scenes in s2, El is the one initiating more, she’s the one holding onto HIS arm, she’s the one holding HIS face while they makeout and just sits there or takes her hands off of him), is a scene where El is the closest that she is to resembling a man. And it’s not just that mike still likes women but prefers masculine women, because even THEN, he’s still not fully attracted to her, he’s still operating around heteronormativity and what he thinks he has to do rather than what he actually wants/is attracted to, because he’s still figuring out what he wants/is attracted to. 

 El is literally his ‘ideal girl/the closest thing to it’ in that scene because she MUST BE the closest thing to an ‘ideal girl’ for him in that scene because it’s the only scene where HE initiates the kiss, its the closest he can get to loving her/being attracted to her, even though he doesn’t/isn’t, it’s the closest that he gets to it. 

 How are all of the issues with mike and el’s relationship explained if Mike was genuinely attracted to her at some point? They’re not. They’re not fully explained or fully resolved, even though parts of them can be explained. If they wanted to make Mike anything other than explicitly gay, it wasn’t necessary to set El up in the way that she’s set up. Not that El’s character revolves around Mike, but rather, that they could have addressed the exact same themes and ideas with her character without needing to set her up in a way that works perfectly with gay mike. 

And how going back to my discussion about counterculture and music, and what is and isn’t counterculture and how people like Billy think that hatred is counterculture when in reality, love and happiness is counter-culture (just like how homophobes and bigots today bitch about how ‘the woke mob is overtaking everything and cishet white conservatives are a minority’), and Mike is starting to embrace counter-culture and anti-conformity in s4 because he’s realizing that love and happiness is the real counter-culture, and beginning to get over his heteronormativity and realize that hatred is the norm and that conformity and the norm sucks and hurts people (whereas in s3 he was trying to embrace conformity and continue to reinforce the norm).

Mike is starting to realize that just like I talked with the music, bigots are using symbols of freedom and love and anti-bigotry to turn themselves into the victims Mike is getting over his internalized homophobia because like I said, he not only can’t apply that homophobic rhetoric to will, but being unable to apply it to will makes it more difficult for him to apply it to himself. 

 People who have enforced heteronormativity and homophobia are acting like they’re the victims of having to deal with queer people rather than the other way around, acting like they’re the victims of the aids crisis rather than queer people, acting like they’re the victims of people like eddie rather than eddie being the victims of people like them. Mike is realizing that society isn’t victimizied by his attraction to men, that it isn’t something bad- that it ISNT BAD because something that hurts something that’s bad (ie mike’s sexuality ‘hurting’ society/heteronormativity) is actually something good. He is realizing that the norm sucks, that the norm is hatred. 

People are also using dnd to push their bigoted narrative, it’s all wrapped into the satanic panic alongside the music which is then tied to queerness and the aids crisis and homophobia. Mike was rejecting dnd/embracing that bigoted narrative to an extent in s3 but now he is starting to go against that narrative and embrace dnd and that ties into him embracing his sexuality like i’ve talked about already in this post. 

Anyway im gonna explain these last few sections and the links between counter culture, conformity, the ST soundtrack choices and gay mike in a different post/in the analysis, but I need to rewatch the show and analyze the music relative to mike in order to really fully make the point about mike and counterculture and conformity and how it ties into gay mike and how it’s all demonstrated by the ST music. 

conclusion: mike wheeler is gay the music is gay the music supports gay mike, the stranger things music team are absolutely genius and the way that the narrative is so interwoven with various topics and how that interweaving is supported by the music choices and the ways in which those music choices are implemented is absolutely fantastic. 

god i need to finish both my music analysis and gay mike analysis.

the st soundtrack choices and the way that they’re edited and incorporated are fucking genius seriously you guys it ties into the narrative and queerness and other themes so well and also if you enjoy my gay mike analysis you’re def gonna want to read this imo

if i ever start talking about the ST song choices and their relationship to songs/song choices regarding songs that are seemingly pro-protest and anti-conformity but are actually still safe enough to still enforce the norm and have  been ACTIVELY USED by conservative politicians to give the appearance of counterculture and rebellion while still upholding and enforcing the norm while giving their supporters the illusion of rebellion and freedom, and how oppressors like to frame themselves as the underdogs and how not only do oppressors/rightwingers want to squash counterculture music and expression but also will actively steal and twist it to make it reinforce the norm and fit their agenda, i Will Not Stop talking about it, like once that can of worms is opened it is uncloseable sorry. 

Keep reading

[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}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 ♡ @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahstwink ♡ @rosecentury ♡ @sekaishell ♡ @ziayamikaelson ♡ @amanda08319 ♡ @starshipcookie ♡ @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

[asexual-shelly]

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).

[megamhafan]

byler needs to happen, because it benefits more people than we realize.

(part 2 for my previous post)

queer folks across the united states have never gotten the chance to see people like them.

here’s some reasons why

they come from a small town, much like our favorite characters, where being queer could get you killed

they come from families that actively shield their children from the idea that queerness exists and is ok

they can’t find content like that safely because of the state that they’re in (texas, florida etc)

they live in a place where something showing same-sex couples is banned and taken down.

that’s why they matter.

these two fictional boys are beneficial to the youth across the country who feel like them, like mistakes, like they will never find love, like they will die alone.

william “will” byers was bullied for his sexuality so it would be beautiful to see him come into his own sense of self as a young man. to understand that the words spoken to him, aimed at him, were lies and that he isn’t wrong for who he is and that his sexuality is a beautiful thing, and that their is nothing wrong with his attraction to men, and that he deserves to live.

why do you think his weapon of choice, a wand, a phalic item is what he protects himself with?

because his orientation is nothing to be shameful of, infact it’s his strength.

micheal “mike” wheeler was bullied for his nerdy interests, his appearance and at times it seemed like his assumed sexuality because of his friendship with will. it would be amazing to see him go from the boy who couldn’t say the word “love” to the young man who is learning to be open with his emotions in regards to romance and sexuality. he deserves to get to tell will how he feels about him.

his weapon of choice? a sword, yet another phalic item, because his sexuality should be something he is prideful of.

———————————————————————

my note to milkman shippers who might feel offended enough to say that byler is “woke” or “forced”

please remember that you won’t wither away and die because a queer ship is canon, and your toxic relationship isn’t.

it’s time to let someone else have a turn.

it’s time to let another set of people feel like they belong for once. queer folks young and old deserve to see people like them live happily ever after.

[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.

[pliablehead]

posts no one asked for but that I feel like I’m the singular authority to make and I’m bored at work: the men of Everything Everything as classic Jellycats

first we have Jeremy as the eponymous Jellycat Jack. This was a no-brainer. he’s charming. he’s iconic. he’s a cat guy. he wears twee little hats. he’s slightly larger than the rest of them. i love him.

Jon is Ricky Rain Frog i mean just look at him. jon higgs is one of the men on this planet i am honestly the most attracted to but that man is ugly cute. everyone is obsessed with this frog who is frowning. my coworker has collected every incarnation of him that exists

Mike is Brook Otter. never beating the otter allegations. this one was in HOT demand and sold out a lot because it’s that good and lovely. i don’t think i’ve ever actively touched mike spearman’s hair but i’ve touched brook otter and i can only imagine the texture is VERY similar

sorry to report that Alex is Lachlan Sad Rat. he isn’t really sad but he is always just a bit lost and hapless looking. lovable af with terrible posture. it was also important to me to make mr synth wizard temple of tone a guy who had discrete fingers

pete is literally bartholomew bear irl. platonic ideal of a teddy bear. no man on earth more huggable

anyway follow me for more useless content like this. thank you.

[barkbre]

girl same when i first saw chris i thought damn this mf is kinda ugly.. what can i say i always liked my men a little ugly 😋

i can picture him being a bit self conscious about his appearance and having to show him how much you adore him

if i heard him complaining about how he looks i would straight up straddle him and give him a little slap for even thinking that, then i would ride him until his freaking glasses fogged 🤗

Thinking about being just friends and him making a self deprecating joke the way i would stare at this man like "THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?"

Okay imagine being straightforward with him tho and like knowing eachother for maybe a few hours and he makes a joke like that and you just

"Are you fucking dumb?"

"What?"

"Are you dumb?"

"What the hell are you saying?"

"Did you just call your self unattractive? have you SEEN yourself?"

"... i-i have.. i just don't think i'm all that.. good looking you know? have you seen Mike?"

"Mike isnt my type. You are though. you're hot."

"O-oh- wow- thank you?"

and it's just you AGGRESSIVELY flirting with him for a week before you just flat out say you want him

"Chris."

"Yes, m'lady?"

"Are you entertaining my flirting and doing nothing because you dont like me or i make you uncomfortable?"

"N-no!- no i just- i-... obviously you're kidding so i dont want to say anything that would make it weirder-"

"What? Dude i have a massive crush on you i have been actively telling you all week"

"... oh you're serious?"

"do you want me to prove to you how serious i am?"

You're guy's relationship would be.. FREAK centeral. and Chris would get way comfortable being as nasty with flirting as you are like really quickly once he's fully aware you like all of him.

Thinking about riding him and finding his glasses to be in the way- taking off his glasses for the first time and holding his face to yours so you can whisper to him and stare at all his sexy ass features

"Lemme see your pretty face...god you're so hot, Chris."

"Jes-jesus christ- you're gonna fucking kill me-"

Thinking about straightfroward!alternative!reader who Chris is convinced he has 0 chance with and is like head over heels after meeting her and like two weeks after her and Chris are best friends at this point and shes constantly coming over to see all his techy shit and he questions why because... you... arent into tech stuff? why would you come over all the time?

"Hey- why do you come over so often? i dont mean that- as like me telling you to stop! please don't! i i just you.. aren't really the tech type of girl so i just.. wanted to know.."

"...Because im attracted to you and like to hear your voice despite knowing jack shit about anything you're saying"

"Really? you- wait you just like.. me?"

"Yes? of course i do? you're attractive and my type and i wanted to make it clear you 100 percent have a chance with me if you're intrested."

"I- believe me i am quite interested now that i know that.."

Having crazy intense sex together and constantly making out so you can be as close to crawling into his skin as possible- he finds it cute but also really gross when you say you want to crawl into his ribs LMAO

[fallen-and-holy]

Redoing my pinned post!

Heyo!! Call me Sol, i use he/hymn/it/xe 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; changeling

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); Nightcrawler (unspecified X-Men universe)

Hearthome(s): Star Trek

Hearttype(s): African Wild Dogs; space/stars

Archetrope(s): Guardian; Devotee; Symbiosis

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; 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)

@worship-sky-blue

@song-of-the-hive

@khaos-born-mother

@morning-stars-temple

@of-shattered-halo

@ra-hesi-ef

[castlebyersafterdark]

“And so hot. I'm not talking geriatric old men though that's still fun and sweet but middle aged, fine as hell, grown grown Mike and Will? They'd be stunning. And all those years together, well known what they like and how they like things, no shame at all, practiced and perfected. That's it, that's sexy as hell. We need so much more of this era...”

I think my personal disinterest in middle age Byler is more so due to my general disinterest in stories with middle aged characters or old characters. Like I would never personally watch a show with old Byler having sex or otherwise. I’m not attracted to old people and prefer coming-of-age stories and stories about people in their 20s. And I think it’s due to my general discomfort with aging where every additional year is disheartening. I wish I could just freeze time, so I also want to freeze time for characters. I can’t speak for everyone who isn’t into it, but it’s definitely psychological for me. That being said, even if it’s not my speed, I’m also happy that it exists, because you’re right that this is what we want for Byler: to grow up into happy gay adults madly in love. If I approach it from that lens, I can get behind it, but it’s definitely not something I would ever write or actively seek out myself

That's an interesting take!! Totally valid, I understand. We all have our hang-ups and you've expressed yours, I understand the personal hesitation and avoidance.

I guess my thing is somewhat on the same subject, but not aligned. I feel young, I am young. And it's a desire for stories where people like me get to live long and live long while being in love, or finding love later, or getting to express love through the entirely of a life. It's about overcoming that fear of aging and living life to the fullest and hopeful thinking. Take away the attraction aspect entirely, take away any sexual aspect at all, though it can never fully be avoided since the reason behind the doubt and lack of promise to make it stems from sexuality in the first place.

I'm not here to persuade you, of course! Just in a sea of similar opinions, where youth is the overarching value in society, I do feel the need to defend the older gays, and stories of love during a life lived. Because it's also a problem in fandom right now, where judgement is given to anyone over 25 it seems is the lowered cut-off, not even 30 anymore. Fandom is for everyone, and anyone, and life doesn't stop at 25 or 30!! We should embrace it. I totally support you and understand a hang up, and just not having an interest in certain stories... but maybe give things a try here and there? Think of why it can be wonderful instead of scary? It does help to celebrate the day, when looking to the future, even through silly fictional character explorations 🫂😊

[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…?

[aemiron-main-backup]

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 

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 

[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.

[hyperlexichypatia]

It matters that they find it a curse because it could mess up everything else about their life! Like, back to the questions I asked; how could a person with attraction to minors ever feel okay seeing their kid relatives? Can they never hug their niece or nephew? Can they never be a teacher? Imagine you were a child who always wanted to be a teacher only to grow up afflicted with pedophillia. That sounds like an awful curse to me! Same thing with relationships. How are you supposed to find companionship, whatever you want it to look like? Sure, you can just “not act” on something but most people who experience sexual urges at least need to masturbate once in awhile when their genitals start aching and needing to do it to something disgusting would feel…well, disgusting! Even with the most platonic QPP in the house! Unless you can find a way to masturbate to nothing and hide your libido, it doesn’t seem like a very pleasant way to live. I also don’t think people living “unpleasantly” don’t deserve rights but I also just don’t want anyone to live unpleasantly. No one deserves that, so I wish nobody had to be afflicted this way!

First of all, I don't know what other people masturbate to, and I actively don't want to know. I'm sure plenty of people masturbate to things I find disgusting. I don't care and I don't want to know. I'm sure there are people who find my sexuality disgusting. I don't care.

As for the rest of your question, I think I already answered that -- it's no different than any other allosexual person.

If you're, hypothetically, a straight woman who's attracted to men, what do you do when you encounter a man? What do you do if there's a man at your workplace? What do you do if there's a man in your family? Presumably you just... deal with it.

My partner's observation that "People on the internet talk about 'minors' the way Mike Pence talks about women" continues to hold true.

It's your job, as a person who experiences sexual attraction -- towards anyone -- not to let your attraction or lack thereof affect how you treat people.

[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

homepage

[oopsitsnothingcreative]

SUNLIT MEADOW - CHAPTER 2

Parring: Edward Cullen/Beau Swan

CHAPTER 2: AWAITING

The next day was better… and worse.

It was better because it wasn’t raining yet, though the clouds were dense and opaque. It was easier because I knew what to expect of my day. Mike came to sit by me in English, still overly friendly. He offered to help me catch up, but he ended up looking over my shoulder and copying my notes instead. He walked me to my next class, with Alice, who was awfully quiet, her expression distant, like she was lost in her thoughts. I didn’t press—small talk isn’t exactly my strong suit anyway.

People didn’t stare at me quite as much as they had yesterday. At lunch, I sat with a big group, including Mike, Jessica, and several other people whose names and faces I’d finally started to remember. I began to feel like I was treading water, instead of drowning in it.

It was worse because I was exhausted. I hadn’t slept much the night before—not that it was unusual for me. My mom liked to joke that I was an insomniac, spending my nights either reading or, in her words, “doing something else lame.” Unlike most mothers, mine thought my life was too dull. She actively encouraged me to “live a little,” which in her world meant alcohol, strange men, and waking up late for work—though somehow she always had some other nurse at the hospital cover for her, even though she never returned the favors. Not exactly my speed.

It was worse because Mr. Varner called on me in Trig when I hadn’t raised my hand, and—surprise—I had the wrong answer. It was miserable because I had to play volleyball, and my mind was preoccupied with the absence of a certain boy, so I accidentally smacked a teammate in the head with the ball.

All morning I was dreading lunch, fearing his bizarre glares. Part of me wanted to confront him, demand to know what his problem was. While I was lying sleepless in my bed, I even imagined what I would say. But I knew myself too well to think I would really have the guts to do it. Maybe if he hadn’t been so beautiful—I usually get flustered around guys I find attractive.

But when I walked into the cafeteria with Jessica and Alice—trying to keep my eyes from sweeping the place for him, and failing entirely—I saw that his three adopted siblings were sitting together at the same table, and he wasn’t with them. Alice stayed quiet, barely looking at me as we moved through the lunch line. She whispered something to Jessica, offered me a faint smile, then went to sit next to her boyfriend.

Mike intercepted Jessica and me, steering us to his table. Jessica seemed thrilled by the attention. Her friends joined us quickly, and their easy chatter filled the table. I tried to listen, but I was terribly uncomfortable, waiting nervously for the moment he would arrive. I hoped that he would simply ignore me when he came, and prove my suspicions false.

He didn’t come, and as time passed I grew more and more tense.

I walked to Biology with more confidence when, by the end of lunch, he still hadn’t showed. Mike, still in golden retriever mode, walked faithfully by my side to class. I held my breath at the door, but Edward Cullen wasn’t there either. I exhaled quietly and went to my seat. Mike followed, talking about an upcoming trip to the beach. He lingered by my desk till the bell rang. Then he smiled at me wistfully and went to sit by a boy with braces and something close to a bowl cut.

I didn’t want to be arrogant, but it seemed pretty clear that Mike was into me. It was... weird. I wondered if I wanted him to like me. He was sort of cute and everything, but his attention made me feel a little uncomfortable. It was obvious I’d have to address it eventually, and I wasn’t looking forward to that. It wouldn't be easy. In a town like this, where everyone lived on top of everyone else, diplomacy was essential. I had never been enormously tactful; I had no practice dealing with overly friendly boys.

For now, I was just relieved to have the desk to myself, that Edward was absent. I told myself that repeatedly. But the nagging suspicion that I was the reason he wasn’t in class wouldn’t leave me alone. It was ridiculous—egotistical, even—to think I could affect someone so much. It was impossible. But I couldn’t stop worrying about it.

When the school day was finally done, and the blush was fading out of my cheeks from the volleyball incident, I changed quickly back into jeans and a chunky, oversized sweater. I hurried from the locker room, pleased to find that I had successfully evaded my retriever friend for the moment. I hurried out to the parking lot. It was crowded now with students eager to escape.

I climbed into my truck and rummaged through my bag to double-check I had what I needed. It was no secret that my dad wasn’t the best cook in the world, he could barely make breakfast for himself—one of the few things he had in common with my mother—so I spent most of my life in the kitchen. He was more than happy every time I offered to be assigned kitchen duty, and I didn’t mind. It gave me something to focus on. This time was no different and, as usual, he had no food in the house—he mostly lived off takeaways. So I had my shopping list and the cash from the jar labeled FOOD MONEY, and I was on my way to the Thriftway.

I gunned my deafening engine to life, ignoring the heads that turned in my direction, and backed carefully into a place in the line of cars that were waiting to exit the parking lot. As I waited, trying to pretend that the ear splitting rumble was coming from someone else’s car, I saw the two Cullens and the Hale twins getting into their car. It was the shiny new Volvo. Of course. I hadn’t noticed their clothes before—I’d been too mesmerized by their faces. Now that I looked, it was obvious that they were all dressed exceptionally well. With their remarkable good looks, the style with which they carried themselves, they could have worn dishrags and pulled it off. It seemed excessive for them to have both looks and money. But then again, life always seemed to work that way.

They looked at my noisy truck as I passed them, just like everyone else. Except they weren’t like anyone else. I saw that the big guy with short, slightly curly, dark hair—Emmett, it must be. Figured. Anyway, Emmett had his hand casually on the hip of the girl with the long blond hair. She caught me looking and the way her eyes narrowed made me turn straight ahead and punch the gas. The truck didn’t go any faster, the engine just grumbled even louder. I kept my eyes straight forward and was relieved when I finally was free of the school grounds.

The Thriftway was not far from the school, just a few streets south, off the highway. It was nice to be inside the supermarket. I used to hate grocery shopping. Now it’s one of my favorite things, it feels normal. Like something grounding. As long as I could move through the store in the right order (because going in reverse made my brain itch), it wasn’t so bad. Inside, the rain’s constant drumming was muffled, and for a moment, it was almost peaceful. It always took me some time to get used to that sound.

When I got home, I unloaded all the groceries and immediately set about reorganizing the kitchen cabinets. Dad’s “system” was just putting things wherever they fit. Mine actually made sense. I hoped he wouldn’t care, but I doubted he even noticed. Once everything was in its proper place, I started prepping for dinner.

That’s when it hit me—I hadn’t called my mom yet. She was probably freaking out. I could practically hear her voice already, asking if I’d been kidnapped or had joined a cult.

After sliding the marinade-covered steak into the fridge, I grabbed my bag and went upstairs. First, I changed into a pair of dry sweats, then checked my phone for the first time—I was one of those people that got anxious when they heard their phone ringing, so most of the time it was on silent or even airplane mode if I was particularly socially anxious.

I did not even realize I had forgotten to turn the airplane mode off once I stepped off the airplane. I had twelve messages, one missed call from mom and a handful of random notifications. Mom knew that if I didn’t answer the first time, it was better to just massage me instead.

The first texts were from yesterday, while I was still en route:

“Beau,

Call me as soon as you get in.

Tell me how your flight was. 

Is it raining?

I miss you already.

I’m almost finished packing for Florida, but I can’t find my pink blouse.

Do you know where I put it?

Phil says hi.”

I sighed, and read on to the texts sent six hours after those. 

“Beau,

Why haven’t you called me yet? What are you waiting for?”

The last was from this morning.

“BEAUREGARD XAVIER SWAN TORRES!!!

If I haven’t heard from you by 5:30 p.m. today, I’m calling Charlie.”

I checked the clock. I still had almost an hour, but Mom was known for jumping the gun. I found my mom’s number in my contacts and braced myself.

“Mami, calm down,” I said as soon as she answered.

“BEAU!” she shrieked so loudly I had to pull the phone away from my ear. “Are you okay? Why haven’t you called me? I still can’t find my blouse!”

And there it was—her real emergency. Priorities.

“Your shirt’s at the dry cleaners,” I said. “You were supposed to pick it up on Friday.”

“Oh, I must’ve forgotten,” she went quiet for a second, then unwillingly added, “Again. Anyway, how was school?” She quickly changed the subject.

“School’s fine. Kind of repetitive. I made a few friends, sat with them at lunch. Sorry I didn’t call sooner—I was unpacking. Oh, and Dad got me a truck. Can you believe it? It’s awesome. It’s Billy’s old truck, but it’s really sturdy, which is good, you know, for me.” To be completely honest, I just didn’t want to talk to her.

“That’s great, mijo.” Her voice had that distracted edge. I could hear Phil in the background. “I can’t find my black heels, either!”

I knew she wasn’t talking to me anymore, so I stayed quiet while she debated which shoes to pack. Eventually, the conversation shifted into an argument about how much stuff she wanted to take to Florida, and she forgot I was even on the line.

The front door banged open downstairs.

“Mami! Gotta go. Dad’s home,” I said, seizing the excuse. I stepped out of my bedroom.

“Oh, okay, honey. Bye!” she said, already back to arguing with Phil, and the line just went dead.

I stuffed my phone into my pocket and hurried downstairs to take the potatoes out of the oven and put the steak in to broil.

“Beau?” my dad called from the entryway when he heard me on the stairs.

Who else? I thought to myself.

“Hey, Dad, welcome home.”

“Thanks.” He hung up his gun belt and stepped out of his boots as I moved around the kitchen. As far as I knew, he’d never used the gun on the job, but he kept it ready. When I was younger, he’d take me to the range or out hunting, trying to bond—or “toughen me up.” Eventually, I’d mustered the nerve to tell him I wasn’t interested. So I had the “guns are not toys” and “don’t do anything stupid” talk pretty early in my life. But despite all that, when I lived here as a child, he would always remove the bullets as soon as he walked in the door. I guess he considered me old enough now not to shoot myself by accident, and not depressed enough to shoot myself on purpose.

“What’s for dinner?” he asked warily. Mom was an imaginative cook, when she bothered, and her experiments weren’t always edible. I was surprised, and sad that he seemed to remember that far back. Fortunately, my grandmother taught me how to cook when my mother and I moved in with her.

“Steak and potatoes,” I answered. He looked relieved.

As always, he felt awkward standing around in the kitchen doing nothing, so he lumbered into the living room to watch TV while I finished up. I think we were both more comfortable that way. I made a salad while the steak cooked, and set the table.

I called him in when dinner was ready, and he sniffed appreciatively as he walked into the room.

“Smells good.”

“Thanks.”

We ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. It wasn’t awkward. Dad wasn’t much of a talker, and honestly neither was I, so I appreciated that.

“So,” he said, breaking the quiet as he reached for seconds, “how was school? Make any friends?”

I shrugged. “I’ve got a few classes with this girl named Alice. Sat with her friends at lunch. There’s this guy, Mike—he’s friendly. Everyone seems nice.” With one outstanding exception.

“Mike Newton,” Dad said, nodding. “Nice kid—nice family. His dad owns the sporting goods store just outside town. Does well with all the backpackers coming through.”

We lapsed into silence again until I decided to ask, trying to sound casual, “Do you know the Cullen family?”

“Dr. Cullen’s family? Sure. Dr. Cullen’s a great man.”

“They…the kids… are a little… different,” I said carefully.

I was surprised to see dad’s face get red, the way it does when he’s angry—a rare sight. “People in this town,” he muttered. “Dr. Cullen is a brilliant surgeon. He could probably work in any hospital in the world, make ten times the salary he gets here,” he continued, getting louder. “We’re lucky to have him—lucky that his wife wanted to live in a small town and teach. They’re an asset to the community, and all of those kids are well behaved and polite. I had my doubts when they first moved in, with all those adopted teenagers. I thought we might have some problems with them. But they’re all very mature—I haven’t had one speck of trouble from any of them. That’s more than I can say for the children of some folks who have lived in this town for generations. And they stick together the way a family should—camping trips every once in a while… Just because they’re newcomers, people have to gossip.”

It was one of the longest speeches I’d ever heard my father make. He must feel strongly about whatever people are saying.

I backpedaled. “Dad, I sit next to Alice Cullen in Spanish,” I emphasized her last name. “She’s the nicest person I’ve met. They all seemed nice enough to me. She mentioned they’ve been here two years. Also,” I added, trying to lighten the mood, “they’re insanely attractive.”

Dad laughed. “You should see Dr. Cullen. It’s a good thing he’s happily married. A lot of the staff at the hospital have a hard time concentrating on their work with him around.”

We chatted a bit about his work before lapsing into comfortable silence again, finishing our food. He cleared the table while I started on the dishes, scrubbing by hand because the dishwasher broke down during my last visit. Dad went back to the TV, and when I was done, I headed upstairs to tackle my math homework. I could feel a tradition in the making.

That night it was finally quiet. I fell asleep fast, exhausted.

The rest of the week passed uneventfully, though it felt like I was on autopilot most of the time. I got used to the routine of my classes. By Friday, I was able to recognize, if not name, almost all the kids at school. In Gym, the people on my team learned two important things about me: one, never pass the ball to me if I’m spacing out, and two, I’m surprisingly good at serving. The coach even pulled me aside once to tell me I had “potential” and should consider joining the volleyball team. I nodded along, thinking, Yeah, no thanks. Sports weren’t my thing, no matter how much potential I allegedly had.

Alice, ever the social butterfly, tried to recruit me for the school band instead. Her mom ran it, and I think she wanted me there more for moral support than anything else. I told her I’d think about it.

People started adding me on social media by midweek, but I didn’t engage much beyond the occasional like or reply. Mostly, I just talked to Alice. We’d grown pretty close over the week—close enough that I trusted her with more sarcasm than I usually dished out. She seemed to enjoy it, which was a relief.

Edward Cullen, however, remained a mystery. He didn’t come back to school, which I found… unsettling. I even asked Alice about him, offering to lend him my Biology notes as an excuse to get more information. She just said he was sick. Maybe that’s why he acted so strangely. A sudden illness, however, that wouldn’t explain why he was apparently desperate to change classes last week. It didn’t add up.

Every day, I watched anxiously until all of the Cullens entered the cafeteria, half-dreading and half-hoping to see him. Relaxing only when I was certain he wasn’t there and then joining in the lunchtime conversation with, well… his sister. And by the end of the week I was perfectly comfortable entering my Biology class, no longer worried that Edward would be there. Although I couldn’t totally suppress the worry that I was responsible for his continued absence, ridiculous as it seemed.

Most of our lunchtime conversations revolved around Mike Newton’s plans for a trip to La Push Ocean Park. He kept trying to convince Alice to come along, but she was persistent that she wouldn’t be able to make it, even though the date wasn’t set in stone. I was invited, and I had agreed to go, but I had an ulterior motive. I just wanted an excuse to see Jake.

I hadn’t seen Jake in over a month, and I missed him. And not just him—my friends in La Push, the salty breeze off the ocean, even the bonfires. Last summer, when my mother tried her hardest to convince me to stay with her or travel with Phill and her instead, Jake had been my lifeline. We’d spent hours on the phone, talking and texting late into the night. He’d been more excited about me moving to Forks than anyone else, even more than my own father.

When I called him Saturday evening, he didn’t bother hiding his frustration.

“It’s been a whole week, Beau. A week! You couldn’t find time before now?” His voice was sharp, but there was an undercurrent of something softer, too.

“I know, I know,” I said, leaning against the kitchen counter. “I wanted to come, I just… everything’s been hectic.”

“Hectic? You’re living in Forks. What’s hectic about that? C’mon, Beau, you can’t seriously be blowing me off already.”

“I’m not!” I protested. “I swear. Look, I’ll make it up to you, okay? I’ll come down soon. Maybe next weekend?”

“Next weekend?” He groaned like I’d just told him Christmas was canceled. “Fine, but you better not flake on me. I’ll hold you to it.”

“I wouldn’t dare.”

“Yeah, yeah. You better not.” His voice softened. “I miss you, man. It’s not the same around here without you.”

“I miss you too.”

We talked for a long time, about everything, from school to our friends and their dramas, and by the time we hung up, I felt a little lighter. Jake had that effect on me.

The rest of the weekend was quiet, just the way I liked it. Dad worked most of the time, leaving the house practically to myself. I finished unpacking, cleaned the place up a bit, and even got ahead on my homework. I found my journal buried at the bottom of a box and spent a few hours scribbling in it, venting about school and Edward Cullen.

I also drove to the library on Saturday, but it was laughably understocked. I didn’t even bother getting a card. Clearly, a trip to Olympia or Seattle for decent books was in my near future. I shuddered at the thought of what kind of gas mileage the truck would get on the drive.

The rain stayed soft over the weekend, quiet, so I was able to sleep well. Sunday evening, I went for a run or rather a long walk to clear my head and talk more with Jake.

By Monday morning, I’d settled into the rhythm of life here. People greeted me in the parking lot, and while I didn’t know all their names, I waved and smiled back anyway. It was cold but not raining, thankfully.

In English, Mike took his accustomed seat by my side. We had a pop quiz on Wuthering Heights, which was straightforward and easy—at least for me. Mike tried to cheat off my paper. I didn’t exactly help him, but I didn’t go out of my way to cover my answers, either.

By lunch, the wind had picked up. Alice practically attached herself to my arm as we walked to the cafeteria, beaming even brighter than usual. Mike trailed behind us, clearly trying to catch my attention. I could see him glaring enviously at Alice all the way. Jessica caught up with us as we walked through the door. She and Mike started talking animatedly about the upcoming football game as we got in line to buy food.

I glanced toward that table in the corner out of habit. And then I froze where I stood. There were four people at the table.

Jessica tugged on my arm. “Hey, Beau? What do you want?”

I forced myself to look down, my ears burning. I hadn’t done anything wrong, I reminded myself. I had no reason to feel self-conscious.

“What’s up with Beau?” Mike asked, glancing between us.

“Nothing,” I mumbled, grabbing a soda and catching up to the end of the line.

“Aren’t you hungry?” Jessica asked.

“Not really,” I muttered, hoping that would be enough to shut down the conversation.

I waited for them to get their food, and then followed them to a table.

I waited while they got their food, then trailed after them to a table. As I sat down, I pulled out my journal and started doodling—nothing fancy, just the kind of aimless sketching that made it look like I was too busy to engage in small talk. I sipped my soda slowly, trying to keep my focus anywhere but the corner of the cafeteria.

Mike, however, had other plans. “You okay, Beau? You’re acting kind of… weird.”

“I’m fine.” My tone was clipped but still polite. Honestly, Mike’s overbearing concern was starting to feel less like kindness and more like a spotlight I really didn’t need.

I was trying to keep my cool and not look at a certain person. I decided to allow myself one glance at the Cullen table. Just one. Keeping my head down, I lifted my eyes beneath my lashes. None of them were looking this way. I tilted my head up a little more.

They were laughing. All of them. It wasn’t loud or obnoxious, but there was something about it that seemed so… natural, easy. Still, there was something different, and I couldn’t quite pinpoint what that difference was. I examined Edward carefully, my gaze lingering. His skin didn’t look as pale—it had the faintest flush of color on his cheeks—and the dark circles under his eyes were gone. But that wasn’t it. But there was something else. I pondered, staring, trying to isolate the change.

“Beau, what are you staring at?” Jessica’s voice cut through my thoughts, and her eyes followed my line of sight like a bloodhound catching a scent.

At that precise moment, his eyes flashed over to meet mine.

I immediately dropped my head, feeling my face heat up. My chest tightened, but not from fear. His expression wasn’t harsh or angry this time. He just looked… curious, maybe a little perplexed, unsatisfied in some way, like he was trying to figure out a particularly challenging puzzle.

“Edward Cullen is staring at you,” Jessica giggled in my ear, sounding far too pleased about it.

“He doesn’t look mad, does he?” The question was out before I could stop myself.

“No,” she said, sounding confused by my question. “Why? Should he be?”

“I don’t think he likes me,” I admitted, keeping my voice low. I angled my body toward Jessica, but the back of my neck prickled with the distinct sensation of being watched.

“Oh, trust me, Beau, he doesn’t dislike you!” Alice said, her voice carrying a little too loudly from across the table.

I turned to her with narrowed eyes. “Do you have something to tell me?”

“Noooo,” she said with a laugh, shaking her head as she glanced toward Edward. She looked sheepish, like she’d just shared an inside joke with herself. “Relax. My brother’s a pretty chill guy… Well, once you get to know him.”

Her words made sense, but I still felt on edge. Why am I freaking out about some guy? Usually, I could at least fake confidence. Why was this different? Just pretend. I tried to relax as I went back to doodling.

“He’s still staring at you,” Jessica whispered.

“Stop looking at him,” I said through gritted teeth.

She snickered but finally turned her attention back to her tray.

Even though I wasn’t looking, I could still feel his eyes on me. It was like standing in the sun too long—not exactly uncomfortable, but impossible to ignore. Taking a deep breath, I straightened my spine and glanced up from the soda can I’d been sketching. This time, I didn’t look away when our eyes met.

He didn’t either.

His gaze was steady, unreadable. But instead of feeling intimidated, I was… intrigued. Maybe even a little defiant. I tilted my head slightly, trying to match his intensity. I couldn’t complain about the view, though.

Realizing he wasn’t going to back down first, I shifted tactics. Unwillingly, with an exaggerated sigh, I looked down, turning the page of my journal, and scribbled in large, bold letters: “R WE IN A STARING CONTEST?” I held it up with a pen in my mouth for extra flair, I tilted my head again and arched an eyebrow.

For a second, nothing happened. Then his whole face turned so red. He ducked his head, hiding his face in his hands. And just like that, the tension cracked.

I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. My fucking God, he’s so adorable. For a brief, insane moment, I almost forgot about the weirdness from last week.

Mike, on the other hand, looked far less amused. His eyes flicked between me and Edward like he was trying to solve a very different kind of puzzle. His jaw tightened, and he stabbed at his mashed potatoes with more force than strictly necessary.

I kept my eyes firmly on our table for the rest of the lunch hour, though I couldn’t ignore the fact that Edward’s presence didn’t bother me anymore. If anything, the thought of sitting next to him in Biology made my stomach do this weird twist. It wasn’t unpleasant. And he didn’t look like he was planning to murder me or anyone else, so that was good.

When the bell rang, I deliberately lagged behind to avoid walking with Mike. He tried to hide how he felt by putting on a fake smile, but I guess he never had to hide his true feelings before.

Once inside the classroom, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw my table was still empty. Mr. Banner was walking around the room, distributing one microscope and a box of slides to each table. Class didn’t start for a few minutes, and the room buzzed with conversation. I kept my eyes away from the door, returning to my sketch, shading the soda can sketch and trying not to think about the empty chair beside me.

Then I heard it—the scrape of the chair sliding back next to me.

I didn’t look up, even as my pulse quickened. My eyes stayed locked on the page, but my grip on the pencil tightened.

“Hello,” said a quiet, musical voice.

I looked up before I could stop myself, stunned that he was speaking to me. Edward Cullen was sitting there, his chair angled toward me. His hair was dripping wet, disheveled—even so, he looked like he’d just finished shooting a commercial for hair gel. His dazzling face wore a slight, friendly smile on his flawless lips. But his eyes were careful.

“My name is Edward Cullen,” he said smoothly. “I didn’t have a chance to introduce myself last week. You must be Beau Swan-Torres.”

I blinked. I couldn’t think of anything conventional to say. My mind immediately short-circuited, and any semblance of fake confidence flew out the window when I met his eyes. My brain just melted.

“H-how do you know my name?” I blurted, instantly regretting how dumb I sounded.

He laughed a soft, enchanting laugh, like a low chord on a piano.

“Oh, I think everyone knows your name. The whole town’s been waiting for you to arrive.”

I frowned. Okay, that wasn’t exactly shocking, but still. “Right,” I muttered, feeling the tips of my ears heat up.

He tilted his head, studying me. “Is there something wrong with Beau?”

“What?” I blinked again. “Oh. No. I just—most people here seem to think I’m a Beauregard.”

He smiled faintly. “Are you?”

“Absolutely not,” I said flatly, rolling my eyes. “But I’m pretty sure my dad calls me that behind my back, which means the whole town does too.” The more I tried to explain, the more moronic it sounded.

“Oh,” he said simply. I looked away awkwardly.

Luckily, Mr. Banner chose that moment to start class. I tuned in just enough to catch the instructions: The slides in the box were out of order. Working as lab partners, we had to separate the slides of onion root tip cells into the phases of mitosis they represented and label them accordingly, no textbooks allowed. In twenty minutes, he would be coming around to see who had it right.

Easy enough.

“Get started,” Mr. Banner commanded.

“Do you want to start?” Edward asked, his voice calm and impossibly polite.

I glanced up, only to get hit with the full force of his smile. Dimples. Of course he had dimples. I could only stare at him like a fool.

He raised his eyebrows. “Or I could start, if you wish.” The smile faded; he was obviously wondering if I was mentally competent.

“No,” I said, flushing. “I’ll go ahead.”

I was showing off, just a little. I’d already done this lab, and I knew what I was looking for. I snapped the first slide into place under the microscope and adjusted it quickly to the 40X objective. After a brief look, I declared, “Prophase.”

“Do you mind if I look?” he asked as I began to remove the slide. His hand caught mine, to stop me. When he touched me, it stung my hand as if an electric current had passed through us. It wasn’t a bad sensation, so I didn’t move my hand right away. I froze for a second, staring at him stupidly.

“Sorry,” he muttered, pulling his hand back immediately. However, he continued to reach for the microscope. I watched him, still staggered, as he examined the slide.

He barely looked before nodding. “Prophase,” he agreed, writing it down neatly in perfect, elegant script, in the first space on our worksheet.He swiftly switched out the first slide for the second, and then glanced at it briefly.

“Anaphase,” he murmured, writing it down as he spoke.

“May I?” I asked, keeping my tone indifferent.

He smirked, pushing the microscope toward me.

I looked through the eyepiece eagerly, only to be disappointed.

Shit, he was right. Annoyingly so.

“Slide three?” I held out my hand without looking at him.

He handed it over, it seemed like he was being careful not to touch my skin again.

I took the most fleeting look I could manage.

“Interphase.” I passed him the microscope before he could ask for it. He took a swift peek, and then wrote it down ​​with that maddeningly perfect handwriting.

We were done long before anyone else. I glanced around, trying to look busy. Mike and his partner were still squinting at their slides, like maybe if they stared long enough, the cells would kindly rearrange themselves, and another group was blatantly cheating with a textbook under the table.

Which left me with nothing to do but to not-look at Edward… unsuccessfully. I glanced up, and he was staring at me, that same inexplicable look of frustration in his eyes. And suddenly, I realized what was different about him today.

“Did you get contacts?” I blurted out.

He seemed puzzled by my unexpected question. “No.” His brow furrowed slightly.

“Oh,” I mumbled, feeling stupid. “I thought… there was something different about your eyes.” He shrugged, and looked away.

In fact, I knew there was something different. I had not forgotten one detail of that first time he’d glared at me like he wanted me dead—flat black, cold and unnerving, like staring into the void, so jarring against the background of his pale skin. Today, though, his eyes were a completely different color: Not quite butterscotch, maybe darker, but warm, mixed with some light green.

I didn’t understand how that was possible. Maybe he was lying about the contacts, or maybe Forks was finally driving me insane. Either seemed equally plausible.

I looked down to distract myself and caught a glimpse of his hands. His fingers were curled into tight fists again, like he was bracing himself against… something.

Before I could overthink it, Mr. Banner came to our table to see why we weren’t working. He looked over our shoulders to glance at the completed lab, and then stared more intently to check the answers.

“So, Edward, didn’t you think Beauregard should get a chance with the microscope?” Mr. Banner asked.

“Beau,” Edward corrected automatically. “Actually, he identified three of the five.”

Mr. Banner turned his skeptical gaze to me. “Have you done this lab before?”

I shrugged, trying to look innocent. “Not with onion root.”

“Whitefish blastula?”

“Yeah.”

Mr. Banner nodded. “Were you in an advanced placement program in L.A.?”

“Yep.”

“Well,” he said after a moment, “I guess it’s good you two are lab partners.” He mumbled something else as he walked away.

As soon as he was out of earshot, I picked up my pencil and started doodling in my journal again.

Edward’s voice interrupted my focus. “Are you excited about the game?”

I had the odd feeling that he was forcing himself to make small talk with me. Paranoia swept over me again. It was like he had heard the conversation at our table at lunch, but there was the possibility that is what everyone in this town was currently talking about.

“Not really,” I said honestly. Pretending to be interested in things I wasn’t had never been my strong suit.

“You don’t like football.” It wasn’t a question.

“I don’t like most sports,” I corrected, smirking faintly.

He tilted his head, studying me. “You moved to a town full of sports enthusiasts. It must be…” He paused, like he was trying to find the right word, “difficult for you to live here,” he mused.

“I’ll manage.” I muttered jokingly, tapping my pencil against the page.

He looked fascinated by what I said, for some reason I couldn’t imagine. His gaze was so distracting that I had to force myself to focus on anything else—the table, my notebook, the grain of the wood—anything but him.

“Why did you come here, then?” he asked suddenly, his tone curious but intense.

No one had asked me that—not straight out like he did, demanding.

“It’s... complicated,” I said, hoping he’d drop it.

“I think I can keep up,” he pressed, his lips twitching into the faintest smile.

I hesitated, then made the mistake of looking at him. His eyes—those strange gold-green eyes—seemed to pull the words out of me before I could stop them, and I answered without thinking.

“My mother got remarried,” I said.

“That doesn’t sound so complex,” he disagreed, but he was suddenly sympathetic. His voice was gentler now, almost kind, and it threw me off balance. “When did that happen?”

“In April.” My voice sounded sad, even to me.

“And you don’t like him,” he surmised, his tone still kind, eyes softening.

I shook my head quickly. “No, Phil is fine. Too young, maybe, but nice enough. Definitely an upgrade compared to the ones before him.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “So why didn’t you stay with them?”

I couldn’t fathom his interest, but he continued to stare at me with penetrating eyes, as if my dull life’s story was the most fascinating thing he’d ever encountered.

“Phil travels a lot,” I explained reluctantly. “He plays ball for a living.” I half-smiled.

“Have I heard of him?” he asked, smiling in response.

“Doubt it. He’s strictly minor league. He doesn’t play well, but I guess good enough to move around a lot.”

“And your mother sent you here so she could travel with him.” He said it as an assumption again, not a question.

My jaw tightened. “No, she did not send me here. I wanted to live here.”

His eyebrows knit together. “I don’t understand,” he admitted, and he seemed unnecessarily frustrated by that fact.

Why was I explaining this to him? He continued to stare at me with obvious curiosity. It was hard not to tell him my entire life story, when he looked at me like that.

I sighed. “She stayed with me at first, but she missed him,” I said, reluctantly continuing. “It made her unhappy… so, I decided it was time to spend some quality time with my dad.”

His eyes softened again. “But now you’re unhappy.”

“Actually, I’m not. I’m happier than ever.” He looked so confused when I said that. He kept staring into my eyes, urging me to continue. I glanced away, knowing I should stop talking but unable to. “You’ve probably heard things about my mom—rumors that don’t exactly paint her in the best light.” His expression tightened, but he nodded slightly. “Well, let’s just say not all of them are false. But I didn’t have the heart to leave her… until now…” I shrugged, trailing off.

“That doesn’t seem fair.” His eyes were still intense.

I laughed, short and humorless. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you? Life isn’t fair.”

“I believe I have heard that somewhere before,” he agreed dryly.

“So that’s all,” I insisted, crossing my arms, suddenly feeling exposed.

I wondered why he was still staring at me that way. I already told him everything he’d find interesting, even though I shouldn’t have. Why did I? I seriously must be going crazy.

His head tilted slightly, his gaze still locked on mine, his eyes seemed to laser right through the surface of my skin. “You put on a good show,” he said slowly. “But I’d be willing to bet you’re hurting more than you let anyone see.”

I glared at him, resisting the childish urge to stick out my tongue like a five-year-old. “And?” I challenged.

He smiled faintly. “I don’t entirely understand you, that’s all.”

I frowned. “Why would you want to?”

“That,” he murmured, so quietly I wasn’t sure if he meant for me to hear, “is an excellent question.” However, after a moment, I decided that was the only answer I was going to get.

The silence that followed was awkward, but neither of us looked away. I wanted to keep staring at his face, but I was afraid he was wondering what was wrong with me for staring so much, so finally I turned toward the blackboard.

He sighed and I glanced back. He was still looking at me, but his expression shifted—something between frustration and fascination.

“I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “Did I… Am I annoying you?”

He shook his head and smiled with half his mouth so that one dimple popped out. “No, if anything, I’m annoyed with myself.”

“Why?”

He cocked his head to the side. “Reading people... it usually comes very easily to me. But I can’t—I guess I don’t know quite what to make of you. Is that funny?”

I flattened out my grin. “More… unexpected. My mom always calls me her open book. According to her, you can all but read my thoughts printing out across my forehead.”

His smile vanished and he half-glared into my eyes, not angry like before, just intense. It was like he was genuinely trying to read me, as if there might be something written there after all. Then, just as abruptly, he switched gears and smiled again.

“I suppose I’ve gotten overconfident.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. “Um, sorry?”

He laughed, the sound soft and melodic, though I couldn’t think of the instrument to compare it to, the kind of laugh that could haunt you long after hearing it. His teeth were perfect—no surprise there—and blinding white.

Mr. Banner called the class to order then, and I turned toward the front of the room like I’d just been granted a pardon. It was a little too intense, talking to Edward was... a lot. Like standing too close to the sun—hypnotizing but dangerous. I felt dizzy in a strange way. Had I seriously just detailed my boring life to this bizarre, beautiful boy who might or might not hate me? He’d seemed almost too interested in what I had to say. Why did he care? And why did I care that he cared?

I could see from the corner of my eye that he was leaning away from me again, back to that same distant, untouchable version of himself.

I tried to focus as Mr. Banner went through the lab with transparencies on the overhead projector, but my thoughts were far away from the lecture. When the bell rang,  I heard a quiet “See you tomorrow.” Edward rushed as swiftly and as gracefully from the room as he had last Monday. And, like last Monday, I stared after him with my jaw hanging open.

Mike appeared at my table a second later, looking harried. “That was awful,” he said, shaking his head. “They all looked exactly the same. You’re lucky you had Edward for a partner.”

“Yeah, he seemed to know his way around an onion root.”

“He was friendly enough today,” he commented as we shrugged into our raincoats. He didn’t sound thrilled about it.

I tried to make my voice casual. “I wonder what was with him last Monday.” I couldn’t concentrate on Mike’s chatter as we walked to the Gym, and P.E. didn’t do much to hold my interest, either. Mike was on my team, which didn’t help.

The rain was just a mist as I walked to the parking lot, my hair damp but manageable when I got in the truck. I cranked the heat up as high as it would go, ignoring the deafening, mind-numbing roar of the engine for once.

As I looked around me to make sure the way was clear, I spotted him. Edward Cullen leaning against the front door of his Volvo, three cars down from me, and staring intently in my direction. I looked away and my foot slipped on the gas as I threw the truck into reverse, and I nearly backed into a rusty Toyota Corolla. Great. I was officially a menace to society. Lucky for the Toyota, I stomped on the brakes in time. It was just the sort of car that my truck would make scrap metal of. I took a deep breath, still looking out the other side of my car, and cautiously pulled out again. This time I made it. I stared straight ahead as I passed the Volvo, but I could see enough in my peripheral vision to know that he was laughing.

The rest of September was nothing like my first day at Forks High.

It started with Alice inviting Edward to sit with us at lunch. From there, it snowballed. He had this way of drawing me out, even when I didn’t want to talk… and I thought my conversations with Alice were long, but since Edward joined in, I talked more than I had my whole life. We argued about everything—books, music, movies, history. Once, we spent half a lunch period debating David Bowie’s best song. I insisted it was either After All or Under Pressure, but Edward said I couldn’t be more wrong. Our little disagreement continued even on our way to class. He made a strong case for All the Young Dudes, and unfortunately, he managed to change my mind. And as I was overthinking while lying awake in the middle of the night, I started thinking it might’ve been his way of subtly hinting he was gay too. I mean, what straight guy knows that much about Bowie?

Not that my own queerness was a secret. Between the ‘Be Gay Do Crime’ and ‘Yes, your gaydar is correct’ pins (among others) on my bag, I wasn’t exactly subtle, so it didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

But despite everything, some clueless freshman girls still tried to flirt with me or even ask me out and the only thing I could’ve done was to act dumb and eventually they lost interest.

Edward, though, was… different. He was genuinely nice, nothing like when I first met him. He had this dark, dry humor that matched mine perfectly. And he was obsessed with mythology—Greek and Roman, especially. One could say he was even obsessed. I was surprised at how easily we could talk to each other. I listened to him ranting about the guy who named one of Jupiter’s moons Europa. I paid attention to every single word he said, even when he was telling—in great detail—the myth that I was already familiar with. Somehow, he made even known information interesting. Every word was filled with passion. Now I also have very strong feelings on this topic.

We got closer fast. Too fast, maybe. I was still trying to figure out how someone so perfect could want to hang out with me.

Not everyone was thrilled about it. Mike, for example, had an opinion on everything Edward did, none of them kind. He and a couple of his buddies would talk shit about Edward, whenever he and Alice weren’t around. I tried shutting him down at first, but it only made him worse. Eventually, I just gave him the kind of blank, judgmental stare that could make a puppy rethink its life choices. He shut up pretty quickly after that.

By the end of the month, I had a new normal. Lunch with Edward and Alice. Debates that stretched into passing periods. Messages that continued late into the night. And then lying awake, replaying and overanalyzing every single word.

Edward was funny, smart, and so much more than I’d expected. And, despite how often we talked, I felt like he still had secrets—things he wasn’t saying.

Of course, I was keeping some of my own. Like the fact that my heart did this stupid, fluttery thing every time he looked at me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If you enjoyed this chapter, please consider leaving kudos or a comment on AO3—it really means a lot! You can also let me know your thoughts here on Tumblr. Your support keeps me motivated to keep writing!

See the previous chapter: here or on ao3

Check out the next chapter: here or on ao3