#no mercy for will byers

[gayofthefae]

Will never be over the character choice of gentle, kind Will Byers to, instead of raising his gun when the demogorgon appeared,

mouth "please"

[bylerlipglances]

Will Byers Crucifixion

“So the boy…the boy must die?” Snape said, “I thought…all these years…that we were protecting him for her. For Lily.” “We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength,” “Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth: Sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he does set out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of Voldemort.” Dumbledore opened his eyes. Snape looked horrified. “You have kept him alive so that he can die at the right moment?” “Don’t be shocked, Severus. How many men and women have you watched die?” “Lately, only those whom I could not save,” said Snape. He stood up. “You have used me.” “Meaning?” “I have spied for you and lied for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to be to keep Lily Potter’s son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for slaughter--” “But this is touching, Severus,” said Dumbledore seriously. “Have you grown to care for the boy, after all?” “For him?” shouted Snape. “Expecto Patronum!” From the tip of his wand burst the silver doe: She landed on the office floor, bounded once across the office, and soared out of the window. Dumbledore watched her fly away, and as her silvery glow faded he turned back to Snape, and his eyes were full of tears. “After all this time?” “Always,” said Snape.”

debate around sacrificing Will Byers (a spy for vecna)in order to save the town is reminiscent of dialogue between Dumbledore & snape regarding Harry's fate. JK rowling was also fighting back in similar fashion for her character.

https://www.businessinsider.com/why-jk-rowling-didnt-kill-off-this-major-character-at-the-end-of-the-harry-potter-books-2016-1

"In some ways, it would have been a neater ending to kill him, but I felt it would have been a betrayal because I wanted my hero — and he’s my hero — to do what I think is the most noble thing,"So he came back from war and he tried to build a better world I suppose, as corny as that sounds." "We would all believe he was walking towards his death and he would emerge in Hagrid’s arms."

Notable Authors were begging not to kill harry but general readers believed it makes for a good end (you see where i am going with this?)

Some fans of the series still wished Harry had died at the end of the series. There are even numerous “Harry Potter” fan fiction writers who focus their narratives on Harry’s death and how life would continue on after the “Chosen One” had been killed. But Rowling for her part doesn’t regret letting “The Boy Who Lived” survive at all. (zombie boy)“I felt it would be a betrayal of the character if I showed Harry doing anything other than living what all along he has discovered to be true, which is that love is the strongest power there is,” “I thought a lot about people who had been through terrible things like wars. And having to come home and rebuild and espouse a normality after seeing horrors has always seemed to me to be such a courageous thing to do.” “Climbing back to normality after trauma is much, much harder,” she added. “It’s much harder to rebuild than to destroy.”

Duffers, could opt for snape like approach. Perhaps Will the wise can be trained in the art of occlumency(a better 'super spy')

but they have their doubts

[coniangray]

Whos watching life in Hawkins??

This hit me earlier when I realized all four stories of st4 had someone/ something being a know-it-all god or a heterodiagetic narrator watching and knowing everything all at once.

But not everywhere (pun intended)

All four storylines have both types of narrators:

A homodiegetic one, this being a character involved in the story and showing their prescription of things

A heterodiagetic one, aka the know-it-all god, recording and watching all the other characters.

Homodiegetic:

For the Hawkins plot it was max. For California it was Will and Mike. For the lab it was eleven, and for the prison it was Hopper (and I think Joyce on her way there, since the prison plot is somehow separate from Joyce and Yuri's plot).

I can tell, because we SEE all of those characters feelings displayed on screen in one way or another. Max was curious during the curse, therefore bringing the whole team together, Wills lingering in California was also shown through him only, Hopper's desparation and fear for joyce not making it safe ect.

The only one I'm on the fence about is Mike, since the last time we got a scene from his prospective was in s2 or at the rain fight in s3 I think. Aka, Mike's pov was not shown enough in s4, but it was there.

Heterodiagetic narrator:

This might sound tricky at first but it's not. Even though this narrator is not supposed to be a character at all: instead, they're just a messenger who convey the story from the writer to the reader (as all narrators do). They're a ghost, an entity, aka the camera of the characters.

But in this case, the narrator is in the show. Each plot has its own one, and that's what considered a god of their own nature.

I realized this from the security cameras and the memory storage of Brenner in Nina scenes. He was keeping and choosing which ones to show to El, aka choosing her path instead of her, which becomes clear in the show later on.

In Alaska, there was also security footage to which jopper had also access to later on.

As for California, they were also recorded/watched at some point. When? Right before the shooting.

The jokes about house arrest in this scene made me think the guards that were supposed to keep them same weren't just sitting, they were most likely recording the activity in the house due to protocol (at least i wanna believe it, considering Mike's house was anf might still be bugged since the end of s1 and the flashbacks in s2).

Also, in the van, they were most likely watched by El after she gained her powers.

And if all of these plots were watched by someone, then who was watching Hawkins?

Vecna.

I realized it from this video; vecna was legit searching for a source, another mind to curse in order to complete his plan.

The camera panning made me think he had access to anyone he wanted to. He could've chosen literally anyone in replacement of mike, but he went for Patrick instead.

Why? Because he knew he was in the same group with Lucas and Jason. As we saw, attacking Patrick triggered not just these two, but in total five people and the entire Hawkins team.

And became the wirters chose to plot wise.

My point is, the dynamics changed after his death, even in the slightest, bringing Lucas closer to max.

Now, because these gods are characters too, their own thoughts may interviene with what we see/ are shown, therefore leading everything back to homodiegetic or 1st person pov.

The main occupants here are Henry and of course, Brenner. Its like a domino effect, once brenner was watching one and now one is watching hawkins.

Their motives also beg to differ; Brenner was focusing more and only on logic, hence one disobeyed that rule and only relied on emotions, especially anger, to get his powers to their fullest potential, and thats what he also taught eleven.

But the main know it all god; The Mindflayer.

It literally watches everyone. Dustin said it himself:

A five star general that can open gates and watch. Tell us just His side of the story, messing with others memories, especially Wils, and everything related to him and el.

Aka, he can just change every detail he wants simply because he was watching.

Because his lenses were stronger than the other characters, and becuase he had and still has a devoted spy. A spy that can absorb information from inside.

And that spy is Will. even in season 4, even in the byler scenes, EVERYWHERE.

That kiiinda sounds like a hyperboly, but because the connection was there, it doesnt mean it was strong. The closer he got to hawkins, the stroger it got, thats why he felt him so intenesely at the cabin.

And here comes the unreliable narrator.

Most scenes are not shown excactly how things happen. Theyre not objective, theyre subjective, given how at least one persons pov is always involved.

This is also why there are a lot of variations of just one memory, why the void version of their timeline is slightly differrent, and why even though will saw mileven happy during the rinkomania skating scenes, an outsiders pov showed how they actually felt, dissapointed by everything.

One other thing id like to add, will MIGHT be playing the god role here too, taking in mind his ongoing connection with vecna and how this could eventually be displayed in vecnas mind if he wanted to. Hence the whole spy thing.

There was a post i read about El trading places with max and exchaging herself with a variant from another timeline, and that adds another layer to the unreliable narrator imo, thinking how the two days later el has different memories and knowledge than the el we knew from before and is now possibly dead.

The thing is, this unreliable narrator thing has SO many layers, and therfore shapes somewhat smalll plot holkes within scenes, especially in s1,2 and 4.

And it got even messier im 3 given hoe focusing solely on the mainstream 80's summer slasher movie vibe, some characters arcs were lost or outshined by others that had the chance to change their arcs for the better.

Yes, im talking about will who was sidelined a lot and then this was decided to be used as a weapon for the connection between him and the ud.

All the arcs are intertwined, but i CANT solve this untill we get s5. Its honestly frustrating like GIMME THE SOLUTION BRUHHHH

[paladibun]

So decided to go thru with making charms! Wanna do an interest check first so just got these 4 examples so far but I’m planning to do more characters + ships upon demand!(gonna make another poll about it later to gage but a definite so far is Max, Lucas, Dustin, Robin, Eddie, and Jargyle as I have them sketched out)

Anyway:

[fallingthruspace]

Am I crazy or does Jonathan Byers from Stranger Things look like the guy from Sisters of Mercy??

[snowangeldotmp3]

the way that joyce’s canon maiden name means “ill-favored”….i’m thinking…

[nezoid]

Comedy Pole Show (April 8, 2023)

Featuring:

Nicole Byer, Joel Kim Booster, Steph Tolev, Christina Calph, Dan Black, Dan Gregor, Weird Gay Spider, Jenny Graves, Aqvadiva, and Mercy Malick.

[eddiezpaghetti]

It has come to my attention that SOME OF YOU who read my last Byler post remain UNCONVINCED. So I'm gonna tack onto it this:

I'm older than fucking God and air, and I've been out and proud since 2007. Yes, I know what homophobia is, and yes, I know what queerbaiting is. I know about Supernatural and Teen Wolf and Sherlock and blahdyblahdyblah. No new ground is being covered here. I thought I made that clear in the original post, but, clearly, I did not.

I am aware of queerbaiting and homophobia, and I'm still wholeheartedly certain in Byler being canon anyway.

Okay, so there are three types of relationship I want to discuss when it comes to queerbaiting. They're all, like, "queer relationships that could have happened, but didn't".

First off, queer-coding. This isn't really a thing so much anymore, but it still crops up every once in a while. I'd argue it probably happens most with male-male relationships in family shows these days. First example that comes to mind is Mr. Smiley and Mr. Frowny from Steven Universe. You can't make a relationship canon because some shitty overhead bastard overhead said no, so you get as close as you can without compromising the show. Can't make someone gay? Well, now their comedy routine is a blatant allegory for a romantic relationship. Boom-shaka-laka. This is something I don't see being a problem with regards to Stranger Things, but I want it to be there as contrast, a demonstration of one of many things queerbaiting is not. However, one could argue that, thus far, Will Byers is, canonically, queer-coded. It's pretty fucking heavily implied in the show, and the creators have confirmed it, and you're gonna be able to see it if you're not FUCKING BLIND, but word of god is not technically canon which means that interviews don't technically make something canon, blahdyblahdyblahdyblah, technicalities, Robin has been explicitly stated in the text to be queer while Will has, thus far, not, outside of good ol' Show-Don't-Tell. Of course, anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell that that's going to change by the end of Season 5, but, hey, for what it's worth, I'm throwing this out there.

Alrighty, Thingamajingama Number Two: "Oops, I accidentally made the greatest love story known to man." AKA, a genuine, honest-to-goodness mistake. Unfortunately, we do live in a heteronormative society. Sometimes people who don't think about being gay much write a friendship that's incredibly compelling and don't even consider the possibility that it could have been read as romantic. Something something Top Gun something. This is, again, not queerbaiting. This is Steddie, this is Ronance, this is Elmax, this is your favorite flavor of non-canon ship this week, this is not Byler. The creators know DAMN well what they're doing. They've talked about it. We know this. Nothing new here.

Which brings us to the topic of discussion here. Actual queerbaiting. This usually starts out as an "accidental greatest love story", and then reacts to fan response. And when I say "reacts", I mean like a goddamn chemical reaction. Like bleach and ammonia, bitch. It's noxious and it's gonna kick your fucking ass without mercy. This is when a creator is like, "Hey, let's get our queer audience invested, but we're not actually going to give them what they want because our straight audience isn't here for that/we personally think it's gross/we don't give enough of a shit to want to research a goddamn thing to write a real gay character," blah blah blah whatever excuse they want to come up with this time.

And when you think "queerbaiting", I want you to think "bullying". Because that's what it is. It's lucrative bullying, like beating us up and taking our lunch money, but it's bullying all the same. And it's a real goddamn thing, even if people misuse the word a lot, often when they mean one of the two above, sometimes when they mean "bury your gays", which is another homophobic thing entirely that I'm not going to get into here. Queerbaiting is the thing we're focused on, and it's real, and it's bullying. And here's the reason I want you to think of it as bullying:

They

Think

It's

Funny.

They are actively making fun of us.

That's why Dean had the "Cas, get out of my ass," line in Supernatural. It's why the "Do you like boys?" line happened in Teen Wolf. It's why "Lie with me, Watson," happened in the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies. Because "It's just a joke, mate." "It was just a prank, bro." "You didn't really think it would happen, did you?" "You should see your face."

So here's probably the biggest reason I don't think it's specifically queerbaiting in this specific instance of Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.

Stranger Things has never, not once, made a gay joke. Ever.

Every single time queerness comes up, it's dead serious.

Lonnie calls Will a fag, and the show is not at all reluctant to show what a goddamn horrible person he is. And when Hopper latches onto that, it's not as "Hahah, is he gay, though?" It's because he's trying to determine a potential motive for Will's disappearance, and even if someone had interpreted it as a joke, Joyce immediately has a line that functions as snapping her fingers in front of the audience's face and yelling "FOCUS" when she says "He's MISSING." Basically outright saying "This isn't funny!"

Troy calls him a fairy, along with targeting Lucas and Dustin for their skin color and disability respectively, and Mike gets damn near murderous. Troy is portrayed as a goddamn monster and the show portrays it as justice when El makes him piss his pants and later breaks his arm.

Steve calls Jonathan "queer" as a slur and gets the shit beat out of him for it.

Billy's father is revealed to be homophobic and abusive in the same breath.

Mike says "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" and we're shown how devastated Will is and Mike immediately follows him to beg for forgiveness.

There is a joke in Robin's coming-out scene, but it's not at Robin's expense. It's at Steve's. Specifically for being heteronormative.

Jonathan has multiple scenes where he's trying so hard to tell Will that he's always going to love him as he is, whether he's gay or not, without pressuring him to come out before he's ready.

Even when there's a little bit of ribbing at Robin's expense, it's always because she's an awkward nerd who's nervous around pretty girls, just the same as Lucas and Dustin are teased when they both first develop crushes on Max, and even then, even then, it always comes as a package deal where they make fun of Steve's girl problems at the same time.

Stranger Things is an emphatically pro-gay show. It may not be the core point of the show the way it is in, say, Our Flag Means Death, but there is nothing less than respect for its queer characters. Its queer characters are always taken completely seriously. No one is making fun of us. They never have. That's why I have serious doubts that this is queerbaiting. It would come completely out of left field for the bullying to start in Stranger Things' final season.

So it's not at all likely to be queerbaiting because queerness is taken completely seriously. The creators have talked about Will's queerness, at least, so it's not an accident. And queer-coding would be silly to expect from this show when it's already on its final season. Like, what is Netflix gonna do? Cancel it? Not to mention all the explicit queerness that's in there already. And no one's gonna "What about the children?" a show that's had sex scenes in it since the first season.

There's no fakeout here. It's gonna happen. Breathe.

[penny00dreadful]

Somebody To Love - Part 2

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

Like most things in life, trying to make something appear sexy on camera was decidedly very unsexy in practice. Case in point, the repeated motions of trying to look sultry and brooding and sexy in front of a camera and crew that just made him feel goofy.

Steve slapped Eddie’s hand away from his face.

“Stop fiddling with it.”

“It’s irritating!”

“Because you won’t let it dry!”

Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes, continuing to pace up and down the makeup room.

It had been weeks since that hookup with Julian and their tour had finally ended. Eddie had tried to see what Julian had seen, what he'd seen the following morning, he really had tried but he could never find it. Steve looked at him like he’d always looked at him.

He still bitched Eddie out whenever he got too fucked up, he still snatched up his drugs when he thought he was getting in too deep and flushed them down the toilet like an asshole and still dragged him out of bed, unceremoniously dumped him into a hotel shower and hosed him down without mercy whenever he needed sobering up to appear in public.

Because that was Steve’s job. And not only was it is job, Steve was a good friend. A great friend even. To the point that they often forgot they had an employer/employee relationship. Steve could quit tomorrow and Eddie was pretty sure they’d still be hanging out on the weekends or travelling back to Indiana in the summer for the Hoppers-Byers barbecues. Steve would still call to check in on Wayne whenever Eddie was too busy or fucked up to get the chance.

Because he was a good friend. One of his closest confidants. Because yeah, Steve did love him as a friend. And Eddie loved Steve as a friend.

Eddie brought his hand up to his face again, already forgetting he wasn’t supposed to touch which only led to another sharp slap. There was fake blood trickling out of his mouth and smeared across his jaw but it was fucking tickly and irritating the ever loving shit out of him, only adding to his heightened anxiety.

They still had a whole day of shooting left to do but they’d gotten most of the fully clothed dark and brooding closeup B-roll of the band done. Draped over thrones or hiding in the shadows of alleyways with a fog machine in the corner or playing their various instruments in the middle of a graveyard that smelled like styrofoam and the kind of dust that always clung to studio lights. 

They were shooting the music video for their newest single ‘Sucker’, a song about sucking blood which was an extremely thinly veiled metaphor for going down and the latest in a long list of filthy songs he and the boys had penned over the years.

The concept for the music video was a whole Victorian gothic vampire blood drinking thing where each of the boys had a ‘victim’ to paw at and mouth all over and that was fine, really. They’d met their extras and the three girls that were acting against Jeff, Grant and Gareth were sweet but very professional in what they were doing which helped put the boys at ease. Because no matter how big and famous they got they were all still smalltown awkward nerds at heart. The guy they’d brought in for Eddie was slightly less professional but very, very good at acting the part of a vulnerable subby boy for Eddie’s vampire persona to suck dry.

And it hadn’t hurt that he’d slipped Eddie his number for a hookup later that night, so there was that to look forward to.

But the main centrepiece for the music video was the one that was giving him anxiety. He and the boys would share a ‘victim’ all at the same time and it was going to be very sexual and very intense. And because two out of the four members of Corroded Coffin liked women exclusively and the other two didn’t not like women, their shared victim would be a woman.

But the issue for Eddie was, they hadn’t met her. Usually with something like this, Eddie and the boys liked to meet up with the female model or actress a few days ahead of time just to make sure everyone was comfortable, there was no pressure, find out if there was anything that she wanted them to avoid doing and figure out some kind of tap out system if it was a live performance.

But their tour bus had been delayed a couple of days and they’d only barely managed to crash land back in LA with enough time to pee before they had to go shoot, let alone check in like they wanted to.

At least tonight Eddie would be able to sleep in his own bed again for the first time in months. And if the night worked out like he was hoping it would, he’d call that guy and he’d have his bed filled for once more.

“Eds, if you try to touch your face again, you won’t get your surprise.” Steve had thrown himself down on the couch behind the makeup chair, stretched out and not even looking up at him, legs crossed at the knee, one arm thrown over the back, lazily scrolling through his phone, white shirt rolled up to the elbows and the first few buttons undone. 

So like…

They may not be in love but Eddie had eyes. And Steve was a snack and a half at the worst of times so now…

Wait.

“Surprise? You have a surprise for me, love?” Eddie flapped his hands in Steve’s direction who looked as stoic and bored as he had a few seconds ago, only betrayed by the slightest curl at the corner of his mouth. “What is it? What is it?! Gimme, gimme, gimme!”

Eddie’s own black and billowing shirt that hung loosely open the whole way down, tucked into a pair of tight leather pants fluttered around him as he continued to pester Steve, the tiny clink, clink of his low hanging chains and rings only adding to the cacophony of energy building up in him.

Until a voice sounded from outside the door and Eddie froze.

“I get good grades!”

Eddie could feel his mouth drop open as Steve’s smile grew wider.

“I go to church!” The tinkling voice continued, getting closer.

“No…” Eddie whispered at him in complete disbelief. 

“I’m a cheerleader!” There, standing in the doorway, looking like the picture of Victorian innocence in a strategically low cut, sheer and flowing white sleeping gown with the biggest smile on her face was Chrissy Cunningham.

“No way!” Eddie darted forward, scooping her up into his arms and swinging her around the tiny little makeup room while she squeezed him tight, giggling into his neck. “You’re our victim?!”

“I’m your victim!” She responded, almost radiating brightness throughout the room. He hadn’t seen her since they took off on tour and she was always one of the people he missed the most. His god-damn bright bubblegum pink platonic soulmate and model extraordinaire with the acting chops to make it to the top if she ever decided to pursue it.

“How?!” He set her back down on her feet before taking her hand and twirling her, getting a good look at her costume. “God, you look so corruptible.”

“I know, right?” She batted her big eyelashes up at him. “But the girl who was supposed to play the part had to drop out so we shuffled some things around.” Chrissy gestured over at Steve whose smile had softened out into something sweeter.

“You knew about this?!” Eddie pointed an accusing black tipped finger at him. Steve just rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his feet.

“Of course I knew about this. I know everything. This is your surprise, dumbass.” He flicked Eddie on the ear as he passed by. “I’m gonna go get the boys!” The next second he had disappeared out the door.

Eddie scowled at the empty doorway before turning his attention back to Chrissy, pulling her down with him into Steve’s vacated spot on the couch.

“So tell me, how was the tour this time around?”

“Chris, you know how the tour was. I called you all the time.”

"No, Twinkie." Chrissy scoffed and shoved at his shoulder. “Steve called me all the time. You called me whenever you were lucid enough to use your phone or you didn’t have a dick in your mouth.”

“I still called, didn't I?!” Eddie pouted, trying to give her the biggest doe eyes he could manage. He was only able to hold it for a few seconds before another thought came to his scattered mind. “Actually there is something I wanted to talk to you about. One of the guys I hooked up with a few weeks back said something.”

“Do I have to fight him?”

Eddie smiled and patted her head, careful not to damage the bouncy blonde ‘slept in’ curly updo she’d been put in. “No babe. Nothing like that. He mentioned something about Steve.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. He said that Steve was in love with me.” He shot her a bewildered look, as if to say ‘can you believe that?’ but Chrissy barely reacted.

She just continued to watch him carefully.

Which, oh Jesus, might be the most terrifying thing to ever happen to him in his life because if Chrissy was unsurprised… so unsurprised that she didn’t even move… had she seen it too?

“What-”

“Chrissy!” Jeff, Gareth and Grant burst into the room and in much the same way that Eddie had, scooped her up and swung her around with delight. The three of them had clearly been just as anxious about the coming scene as he had and were now extremely relieved to be doing it with someone they knew.

In amongst the whirlwind of greetings they were called back out to start filming again and the next time Eddie had a chance to talk to her was on set with his arms around her, pulled flush against his chest, Gareth pressed against her back with his head bent to one side of her neck and Jeff and Grant looming over either side of her with her wrists at their mouths before action was called, so… not exactly a place for private conversation. 

Eddie had to wonder if Steve had spoken to the director so he knew what to expect because by the time the five of them had broken down into giggles for the fourth time in a row, they guy wasn’t looking nearly as irritated as he should have been. 

It was a mix of all five of them being together again that made them all feel a little giddy and the fact that a very sexually charged scene was always so unsexy when it was being filmed. 

And, okay, maybe the last one was Eddie’s fault because he had to hold nasty tasting fake blood in his mouth before bringing his lips down to Chrissy’s neck, allowing it to leak out over her skin making it look like he was biting her and maybe a really badly timed giggle had caused it to spray everywhere, spattering dark red over everyone and causing the five of them to almost collapse into each other with laughter.

Once they had all managed to reign themselves in for another shot the director was watching them with his arms crossed and a contemplative look on his face.

“I’m going to be honest, I should be mad.”

“But?” Gareth asked.

“But Mr. Harrington has pointed out if we cut that shot just before it’s obvious you’re laughing, it looks like you hit an artery. There’s no way that would get past the censors for TV so he’s suggested a R-rated gore heavy version of the music video? Maybe released exclusively online?”

The five of them looked at each other for barely a second before they were all enthusiastically agreeing and volleying ideas for just how gore heavy they could go.

The director clapped his hands. “Alright! We can discuss ideas later, but we really need to get this shot done, so back on your marks and Eddie?” he pointed at him. Eddie had already had more of that fake blood tipped into his mouth (less this time, thank god, considering Chrissy was practically covered in it already) so he could only respond with a ‘mm?’

“You’re going for sultry. Give the camera a good eye-fucking this time around please?”

Eddie shot him a dorky thumbs up before sliding his arms back around Chrissy’s waist and bringing one hand up to rest in the blonde curls at the back of her head. As the director called ‘Action!’ their song was blasted through the speakers in the studio and he lowered his head.

Just as he mimed biting into Chrissy’s skin he lifted his eyes up, trying to keep his gaze as dark and wanton as possible, but just behind the camera stood Steve, looking right at him. As their eyes met, he visibly swallowed, his cheeks went pink and he bit down on his lip hard before a blank mask of nothingness slid over his face and all at once Eddie was unmoored. 

Because he recognised that face. Because he knew Steve inside and out. Or up until that very moment, he thought he did. 

Sure, it was the face Steve used in contract negotiations on Eddie’s behalf with silver spoon label executives he knew how to pander to. But it was also the face that was used when Steve wanted to keep his real feelings locked away. 

The face Eddie realised, with sudden clarity, he’d been seeing on and off for years.

Whenever Steve would have to hold his hair back over a toilet bowl or drag him by the arm out of whatever group sex situation he’d gotten himself involved in. Whenever Steve would watch from backstage, his eyes only ever following Eddie around, whenever they would invariably end up sitting closer and closer during movie nights on the couch, whenever Eddie had chosen over and over and over again to parade his choices of flings and partners in front of Steve, whenever Eddie had thrown ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart’ and ‘love’ at him, like they meant nothing. Like they couldn’t cause damage.

But they didn’t mean nothing, had they ever meant nothing?

Had they always meant everything to him?

“Cut! Fantastic!” The director cried.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 AO3

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring, @child-of-cthulhu, @sweetwaterangel, @anaibis

Chrissy's lines as she comes through the door are from But I'm A Cheerleader! An iconic lesbian comedy about a high-school cheerleader who's conservative parents send her to conversion therapy when they suspect she's a lesbian which... 👀

It's a good watch but even though it's a comedy, it's still about a heavy subject matter so just proceed with caution and keep yourselves safe. 🖤

[justsomerandomfanfic]

The Deep End - Billy Hargrove X Female Reader

Title: The Deep End

Billy Hargrove X Female Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's mother (Mentioned), Billy's dad (Mentioned), Billy's mom (Briefly Mentioned), Will (Mentioned) Jonathan (Mentioned), the people of Hawkins (Mentioned), and Heather

WC: 4,670

Warnings: Pretending the Mind Flayer didn't possess Billy, Reader can't swim, Reader has anxiety, Reader is terrible at interacting with others mentioned, gossipping, sort of enemies to lovers mentioned, a bit of suggestion, a lot of italics, mention of abuse, mention of injuries, Reader is mentioned wearing a bathing suit (not specifically a bikini or one-piece, etc.), cursing, teasing, flirting, yelling, drowning, mention of panic attacks, Billy's feeling a bit guilty, slight angst, and fluff

It was hot. The summer sun was beating down on Hawkins, Indiana with no mercy. Sweltering rays of heat warmed every surface, from the sidewalk, the road, to the metal slides on playgrounds. There was no escaping this heat, nor the sun. Even with air conditioners on full force, sweat seemed to trickle down the nape of your neck, staining your thin shirt. 

Fanning yourself with a homemade paper fan, you slouched on the couch, hardly being able to pay attention to the TV that was playing some reruns of I Love Lucy. 

It was hot. And you were absolutely done with it.

There was only one place, in all of Hawkins, that you could go to that would and could help with the summer heat. One place that you hated going to. The mere thought of it filled you with dread. 

Hawkins pool. A mile or two from your house. Near the middle and high school. It was usually full of people during the summer, either sunbathing in lounging chairs or splashing in the chlorine pool. To anyone else, it was paradise in the very - crappy - small town. 

To you, it was hell. Screaming children, the chance of being splashed with cold water, older women ogling at young lifeguards, and just… A lot of people in general. 

You had only been there a handful of times, either with family or friends. In reality, if you had the chance, you wouldn't have gone in the first place. Every time you went, it felt like all of Hawkins was there. Too many people. You hated it. 

You weren't the most… Social of people. Which was kind of odd for the town of Hawkins. For example, some people thought you were weird. Like they thought Will and Jonathan Byers were weird. And people talked, they all hung out, they gossipped, partied, had potlucks, or barbecues in their backyards. 

You tried to get out of those situations, if you were ever invited to them, which wasn't very often thankfully. You weren't very good at communicating or having conversations that didn't just end with you subconsciously ending it for yourself and the other person. 

Even in school, you were pretty shy and introverted. You had hardly any friends, you only went to the book club - since it was quiet and you could read in peace - and you sat by yourself at lunch. And you enjoyed it. But now and then you would feel a little bit jealous. Seeing people chatting along with their friends, laughing and having fun. But it came to a point that you would rather focus on your studying or homework rather than pushing past your boundaries and trying to make friends. Too much of a hassle, you thought. 

So when Billy, the new kid in town, came to Hawkins, you never, in your wildest dreams, thought that he would ever notice you, or talk to you, or anything.

He was a popular guy, talkative, a ladies man, and a bad boy. He had friends, he had all the girls fawning over him, and he loved it. The attention, having such a reputation. He was so… Different from you.

So when he walked up to you at lunch, sat down in front of you, you could hardly believe what was happening. Why? Was the one word that circled in your mind. Why? 

It couldn't have been for any good reason, could it? Like with everyone else, he wanted something or needed something out of this interaction. You even let the thought of him just wanting to get in your pants pop up, but you brushed it off.

He did want something. And of course… He wanted you to help him with his homework. But not help him, he just wanted you to do it for him. Yay. For some reason, he thought since you were always reading all the time, that you would be smart enough to just do his work, but dumb enough to fall for his charm. 

Let's just say… That didn't work. 

You were smart - intelligent - Intuitive. You always had good grades and always made sure to keep them that way. You studied hard and enjoyed reading; whether from a book given to you for a lesson or from your shelf at home. You enjoyed school, since it busied your mind and gave you something to do. 

But that didn't mean that you were going to go so low as to just do his homework for him. It was his work to do, he could do it himself. 

And when telling him that, you expected him to roll his eyes, scoff maybe, and find some other smart and defenseless person to trick, and to never bother you again… Good riddance. But he didn't. He grinned. 

Oh, he kept coming back. Again, and again, and again. He just wouldn't let up. The first couple of times, he tried to convince you to do his work for him; he said that he just didn't have the time, or that he was going out for that night. As if he thought that was going to help him in this situation.

And after a while, of either ignoring or telling him you'd be late for class and walking away, he switched on you. 

Instead of asking for help, he went as far as to ask you out. 

Really?

You turned him down, every time. No, you didn't want to go to the diner after school for a milkshake. No, you didn't want to go see that new movie at the drive thru. No, you did not want to go to a party with him. Who did this guy think he was? 

It was irritating, everyday you would become paranoid from just the idea of Billy walking over to you at lunch, popping up beside you at your locker, or trying to talk to you during the two classes you shared with him. You had already gotten in trouble once. 

At the four month mark, though, Billy stopped trying to get you to go out with him, and started trying to get to know you? Or that was just what it seemed to be what he was doing. It was hard to tell, he was just so confusing, and irritating, and cute… God…

You hated him. So it became sort of a surprise to you when you and Billy started dating. 

And it wasn't just because Billy wanted to get in your pants or just check you off on his list as another person he's dated. To Billy, you weren't some prize to be won. You weren't someone to trick and fool with charming grins and flirtatious remarks.

You had your doubts in the beginning, but Billy proved himself and showed you that behind the facade of aggression and bad boy reputation, he was just highly misunderstood. His past and current trauma that he was suffering from at the hands of his father made him the hating and reckless person he was. But, deep down, he was hurting.

~~~

You never thought that, while watching a movie at your house, that Billy would rip off the bandaid and just tell you. And that was long before you had asked him where he had gotten the black eye from an hour before.

"It was my dad," His words rang out, seemingly echoing throughout your room; lingering.

The air was thick, as you swallowed, looking up at Billy who sat beside you, he stared at the TV screen. Your eyes flickered, noticing how soft and sad his blue eyes were, in such contrast to his hardened expression. 

"Billy…" You muttered, your heart breaking for him, your hand reaching out to curl around his arm.

Billy's jaw clenched, as did his fists, his knuckles turning white. "He has been since I was a kid." His voice was thick with emotion, though he tried to control it; still staring at the screen. You felt your eyes sting, biting your bottom lip so as to not let it tremble. "He's the reason my-" He couldn't finish, snapping his gaze from the TV and standing. 

Abruptly, he moved off the bed, clenched fists at his side as he faced away from you. You slid off the bed as well, but you did nothing more, in fear that if you got too close that Billy would close back up and or leave. 

"Billy, you don't have to continue." You spoke softly, watching as Billy only shook his head.

"I hate him." He muttered, his voice matching your own. You took your chance to walk closer, going around his side to stand in front of him. 

His expression broke you. That charming smile, mischievous glint in his eyes, it was all gone. In its place, was a broken young man, who just wanted to love and to be loved. 

Reaching out, you cupped his cheek, Billy's eyes closing before you dropped your hand to instead circle your arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Billy slowly did the same, his arms wrapping tightly around you, his hands resting on your back; fingers gripping your sweater with a death grip. 

He dug his face into your neck, letting out a shaky breath. It didn't take long until you felt his tears seeping into the soft fabric of your sweater, which only made you hold him tighter. 

The world was so cruel to him.

~~~

People still didn't believe that you and Billy were an item, more so at school. It annoyed you, but you ignored it, like you did with most things at school. Billy seemed to pay it no mind whatsoever. 

He'd go about his day like nothing happened. His arm looped over your shoulders as he walked you to class, lunch, to his car. He'd still do everything like he had before, minus flirting with others. He ignored every flutter of eyelashes and moved away from every suggestive arm caress. To some people, it seemed Billy was slowly changing to be a one gal guy. And people would look, stare, gossip. And that was the worst part, the gossip. 

"Oh, they won't last more than a month."

"A week tops! I heard that she's paying him to pretend to be her boyfriend."

"I don't know why Billy is wasting his time. He should be with me."

But all that didn't matter. What mattered was you and Billy. 

And you missed him. While you were stuck at home, dying of heat stroke, and Billy was at the pool, dying of heat stroke… Really, you could've been dying together. 

But no, he had to work. In the one place that you hated going to. The one place that you swore you'd never walk into voluntarily. Until today, right now.

Letting out a groan, you stood up, your skin sticking a bit to the couch as you did so. Trudging through the house, you continued to fan yourself as you climbed up the stairs and headed up to your room. 

Digging through your closet, you pulled out a small cardboard box. Rifling through it, you pulled out your old bathing suit. Lifting it up, you tilted your head before nodding; it should still fit. 

Grabbing your canvas tote bag, you stuffed your suit, and whatever else you needed into it before you left.

The drive was nothing more than relaxing. You turned the cold air all the way up, but you wished that the drive was longer. 

Your nerves had begun to overwhelm you once you parked. Looking out your driver's side window, you could already hear the screaming of children. It was going to be a nightmare… But less so since Billy was there. 

Letting out a breath, you pushed the door open, instantly hissing at the hot rays of the sun that were hitting you. Blinking your eyes, you begrudgingly shut your car door and walked over to the open gate.

Immediately, you felt tense. Feeling people's eyes upon you, even when they weren't even looking. The prickling on the back of your neck sent a chill down your spine. Swallowing thickly, you stepped in further, your eyes quickly finding Billy sitting on the lifeguard tower. 

You felt a breath leave you as you walked over, stopping to stand beside the tower. And though your nerves had died down somewhat from just being near Billy, the pool in front of you did not help. 

Looking up, you observed Billy. How he sort of slouched in his chair, legs spread, eyes surveying the pool goers, absentmindedly biting on the tip of his pool whistle. The sun beating down on him, a stern look on his face. It made you smile lightly, almost forgetting that you were even in Hawkins pool. Who gave him permission to be so God damn stunning? 

"Hey… B." You spoke up, quickly gaining the attention of the dirty blonde. 

He whipped his head around and down, his serious expression slipping away into a grin once he saw you. "Hey there, gorgeous." He greeted you before climbing down the lifeguard tower ladder. "What are you doing here? I thought you hated the pool." He continued once he was standing before you, giving you a slow once-over, chewing on some gum. 

You shrugged, "I missed you." Glancing around, you pivoted your weight from one foot to the other before looking back over at him. "... Aren't you supposed to be up in the tower, watching people?" You asked as you raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile slowly crawling on your face.

Billy only shook his head, his grin widening as he glanced around the pool, "I can watch them all perfectly fine from right here." He spoke, looking back at you before gesturing to your bag. "You swimming?" 

Smile faltered slightly, you shook your head. "I won't swim, but I'll definitely stand in it. It's so hot out." You glanced at the sky briefly, squinting, "Too hot."

Billy hummed, and again, you didn't miss the way his eyes raked over you. "Well, I'll watch out for you. Give you mouth to mouth if something bad happens."

Letting out a small laugh, you shook your head, "Yeah, sure, okay."

"Seriously," Billy answered, pointing a finger at you, a hardly stern look on his face, "Be safe."

You wanted to say that you'd be fine, it was just a pool after all, but you knew better. You'd make sure that you weren't close to the deep end, you knew that there was a steep decline into the deep water… And well, not knowing how to swim would probably be a problem at that point. 

But you only nodded, your smile softening, "I promise. I'll be fine." 

Turning around, you headed off to the changing rooms, but right before you could take your first step, you felt Billy take your hand; tugging you back around to face him. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but Billy didn't give you a chance. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, physically melting as you let out a sigh. 

You felt dazed when he pulled back, a teasing grin on his face as he looked down at you. "See you in a minute, sunshine." He spoke, and you nodded; almost floating as you walked off to the changing rooms, hardly noticing some of the neighborhood mother's glares. 

You were on cloud nine, your mind completely glossing over you putting on your bathing suit until you stepped back out. You fell right down at the overwhelming sight of all the people. 

Did they multiply when you were in there?

Letting out a breath, you walked over to the steps of the pool, carefully stepping in, you were immediately greeted with the sweet chill of the water. Pushing away from the railing, you swerved past a couple of kids, mothers with their younger children and toddlers before finding yourself in the section of the pool where you felt the safest - the water hitting just below your chest. 

Looking up, your eyes met Billy's stare. At you spotting him on his perch, he let a small smirk find its way on his face; winking. You didn't even realize that you were smiling, shyly looking away and just chilling near the edge of the pool, back pressed to the concrete. 

It hadn't even been more than ten minutes when a few kids were splashing around near you, pushing each other by the shoulders into the water, only to pop up; their laughter merging with the already loud atmosphere. 

To get away from them, you slid to the side a few steps, wiping away the bits of water that managed to land on your face from their havoc. Though refreshing, it was a tad bit annoying. 

A sharp whistle rang out through the air, grabbing your attention and everyone else’s, “Hey, gasbags!” Billy yelled out at the kids that were rough-housing near you; they looked up at him in what seemed to be fear, “Don’t make me ban you from the pool!”

After that, you had grown less anxious by a considerable amount. You would feel your heart rate accelerate when someone got too close or when you accidentally made eye contact with someone as you were surveying the pool - awkward. But, for the most part, you were enjoying yourself, to the extent that you were in the perfect spot to casually look up and see Billy only feet away.

You only snapped your gaze away from your boyfriend when you felt something bump into you. You stumbled slightly to the side before fumbling backward. Your eyes widened as you felt yourself falling backwards, arms flailing, your feet dropping past the cliff in the pool.

You crashed to the water, slowly sinking to the bottom. Your mind had frozen, totally out of control as everything muffled around you. Your eyes were screwed shut, your mouth closed with the little bit of air you were able to gulp down in the process of falling. 

At the tightening of your chest, your eyes flew open, panic settling in. You tried to look around, the chlorine burning your eyes as you watched peoples' legs kick around in the water; like from a scene in Jaws. 

Trying to propel yourself up with your arms, you finally reached the bottom. Thrashing your arms, you pushed off the bottom of the pool with your legs, trying to reach up to break the surface, but it seemed so far away. When really, if you only had a bit more time, one last push would've made you break the surface. 

You felt tired, your chest burning as were your lungs and throat. Your eyes drooped, and suddenly, you inhaled. You felt like you were drowning. You were drowning. As the water filled your lungs, you watched with blurry vision as bubbles floated up to the dimming surface above. 

Your ringing ears slowly faded, your vision with it. And for some odd reason… You felt at peace.

With the little bit of consciousness that you had left, you felt something grab you and pull you up. What felt like hours, had only been a minute.

Suddenly, your eyes opened, and you turned on your side as pool water expelled from your mouth with force. You coughed, chest heaving as you choked on the remaining water in your mouth; the taste was foul. 

You felt a hand on your back - rubbing soothing circles - a voice speaking to you, or trying to. It was hard to make out what they were saying. Slowly, you were moved back to your back, your droopy eyes blinked heavily as you stared up at the person over you. 

Slowly but surely, your vision got better, allowing you to see a very distressed Billy. His mouth was moving, talking to you, no… Yelling. But your mind couldn't process it. What was he saying?

He lightly tapped your cheek with his palm, just as your hearing began to return, you suddenly felt really tired and your throat burned. Little droplets fell from his wet curls, landing on your neck and cheeks. 

"Y/N, can you hear me now?" He asked, and you nodded slowly. You watched as he let out a big sigh, taking you in his arms and helping you sit up. His warm hands, wet with the same pool water brushed over your face, pushing back your wet hair. His blue eyes, hurriedly and worriedly, checked over you swiftly for any sign of cuts, bruises before checking you for a concussion; which you did not have thankfully. "You scared me for a minute." He muttered, "Do you think you can stand up?" 

You opened your mouth to speak, "B…" Your throat burned, screaming out to you to stop, and so you did, just nodding instead.

"I know, I know…" Sowly, Billy helped you stand up, your hands holding onto his arms tightly. His hands gripped your waist and lower back, just in case he would have to catch you. That's when you noticed everyone staring. Everyone was watching you, everything was deathly quiet. You ducked your head down, as if that would help, closing your eyes tight, you felt your chest tighten once more. Billy, being the super attentive boyfriend he was, immediately noticed your oncoming panic attack, quickly and carefully leading you to the first aid room near the pool office and changing rooms. "Take my shift, Heather." He grumbled, passing the other lifeguard.

Looking up from the office window, she watched as Billy passed with you beside him. Huffing, she stood, "You owe me." She muttered before leaving the office to take his place as the lifeguard. 

Billy quickly opened the first aid room. It was bigger than a typical Janitor's closet, but small enough that it couldn't fit more than probably twenty people; if they all squished together shoulder to shoulder.

Sitting you down on a chair, you leaned back against the back of it, your head tilting to the side, your ear pressed to your shoulder. You watched as Billy pulled a large towel from a shelf, turned towards you and wrapped you in it. Rubbing his hands up and down your upper arms, Billy's eyes flickered over your face, the same distressed expression on his face. "Y/N, talk to me."

You blinked, lifting your head slightly, "I- I am never going into that pool again." You muttered, your voice still a bit rough, but getting better. 

And from your response, Billy cracked a small smile, a real, fond one. "You don't ever have to. You can sunbathe. Or, hell, bring a book with you if you want."

You nodded slowly, allowing yourself to smile, "That's a good idea."

Sighing, Billy pressed his hand into your cheek before grabbing the edge of the towel and gently drying your face and then hair. "When I said that I'd love to give you mouth to mouth… I didn't mean when you were drowning." He tried to joke, but inside he was still panicking. 

You did your best to do the same. You knew that if you started freaking out, then Billy would too. "I'm okay. I'm just tired." You blinked your burning eyes. "I think I want to go home." You murmured, and Billy nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, let's get you home." Helping you stand, he then helped get your things, and grabbed his, before punching out and leaving for your car. 

Buckling you in, you took his hand, "What about your car?" You had asked, but Billy shook his head.

"It'll be fine for tonight." He shut the passenger side door before hopping into the front seat. "You're more important." He muttered, and you almost didn't hear it once he turned the engine on. 

The entire drive home was silent. A tense fog in the air, breathable, but anxiety-filled. You wondered if he was angry at you, which you knew was ridiculous, but the thought popped into your head anyway. But the grip he had on your thigh, tight but comfortable, brought you out of that negative headspace. Your hand carefully laid over his, your thumb brushing along his knuckles. Pressing the side of your cheek into the passenger side window, you let yourself shut your eyes. 

~~~

When you next awoke, you were in your bed. Billy nowhere in sight. Blinking, you stared up at your creme ceiling, your fingers gently brushing up on your warm, blue comforter. And suddenly, you felt hot.

Kicking off the blankets, you at least kept part of the sheet near your feet, observing your yellow sleep shorts and one of Billy's shirts on you. Thank God you weren't still in that bathing suit. At this point, you wanted to burn it. Pushing your hands against your bed, you propped yourself up, scooting backward and leaning back on the headboard. Swallowing, you coughed lightly, taking a glance and noticing a small glass of water on your bedside table. 

Taking it, you took small sips, allowing your mind to process what had happened. You almost drowned. Billy saved you. You are alive. You are home. You replayed those words over and over in your head, trying to tell yourself that everything was okay. You were safe. 

At the light knock at your door, you looked up as it opened, Billy pausing briefly, meeting your eyes before walking in. He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking down at you, less worried, but with that same look in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, and you nodded. "Your mom said you were, her being a nurse and all."

You bit your lip briefly at the thought of Billy bringing you home and making sure you were alright with the help of your mom. "Yeah," You took his hand into yours, "I'm okay. Thanks to you."

Billy pursed his lips, eyes hardening ever so slightly as he turned his head to stare down onto his lap. He said nothing for a moment, his grip tightening in your hold slightly. "Why didn't you tell me that you couldn't swim?" He then asked, and you sighed, biting your bottom lip.

"It's embarrassing." You muttered, feeling your eyeballs sting with salty tears. "And I only went to get out of the heat. I didn't plan on going out that far, honest. I just tripped." You spoke, rushed, making Billy turn to look up at you.

"I'm not angry at you, if that's what you're thinking." He remarked, and you stopped, looking up at him. "I'm angry at myself. I should've kept my eyes on you like I said I would."

Shaking your head, you gave him a smile, "You didn't know that I can't swim. None of this is your fault." You shrugged a shoulder, “Plus, if you were watching me the entire time, you wouldn’t be protecting everyone else.”

After a few moments of silence, of gazing into each other's eyes, he spoke, "I'm giving you lessons." He gestured to the door, "Your mom, she was pissed when I told her what happened. She asked me to teach you."

Huffing, you rolled your eyes. "I never want to swim or even go near that pool again." You groaned, and Billy nodded.

"You never have to, but I'll gladly teach you only when you want to learn." He answered, earning a hesitant nod from you.

Another moment passed, "Thank you, Billy." You whispered, sniffling lightly as you looked at him.

His smile, small but genuine, sent shivers down your spine, "Don't mention it." He muttered, leaning forward to press his lips to the center of your forehead. Tracing his fingers along your cheek, you pressed your hand to his, keeping it on your cheek.

"Are you staying the night?" You alee softly, and Billy smirked, his half-lidded eyes bored into yours.

"I was planning on it." He leaned back down to brush his lips against yours. "Any movie suggestions?" 

Shutting your eyes, you answered, "Anything but Jaws." 

[therainscene]

I’ve been enjoying the sympathetic, we-aren’t-being-shown-the-whole-story takes on Henry lately, and it’s reminded me of something I always found odd about the scene with the rabbit.

On the surface, this looks like a budding serial killer engaging in that red flag behaviour of torturing animals. We see the ensnared rabbit screaming and struggling in front of a young Henry, and older Henry tells us, “as I practiced, I realized I could do more than I possibly imagined...”

But then we see young Henry’s face... and I dunno, maybe it’s just me, but I don’t see a child torturing an animal for fun. He seems thoughtful, troubled.

What really gets me about this is older Henry’s narration over this shot: “I could reach into others, into their minds, their memories.” What does that have to do with killing a rabbit? He’s not in a mind-reading trance here, his eyes are open.

Immediately following this scene, Henry segues into telling us about his parents, how he’d reached into their minds and seen that they’d done “such awful things”. We see Victor haunted by a vision of the baby he accidentally killed. It screams like the rabbit, unable to escape its burning crib.

Here’s what I think actually happened with the rabbit:

Virginia set up traps to get rid of pests. (Victor was spooked by the dead animals around his property, so I don’t think he was involved.) Henry saw this while practicing his mind-reading, and upon investigating, found a terrified, injured rabbit. He sympathized with it; his mother viewed him as a pest, too, a problem to be solved via cruelty. He killed it to end its suffering, and soon developed a habit of mercy-killing all the animals ensnared by his mother.

I think this reading is a much better fit for Henry than “weirdo kills animals as practice for murder.” When he kills his human victims, he tells them, “it’s time for your suffering to end; it will all be over soon.”

He finds children ensnared by abuse and forced conformity. He sees them in pain, trapped in their burning cribs by cruel or foolish authority figures. He sees himself. He shows them the mercy he wishes he’d been given.

This is, of course, hypocritical. Henry has no right to decide on other people’s behalf how they should cope with their pain -- he’s turned into the same abusive authority figure he’s always railed against. He sees humanity as “a unique type of pest”, just as his mother saw him. Even his beloved spiders were kept imprisoned in jars so he could study them, just as Brenner imprisoned him in the lab.

Many abusers see themselves as victims, and they’re often right. That doesn’t justify the abuse they perpetrate, but in their own minds, they feel justified. They feel like they have no other option. That’s what makes the cycle of abuse so hard to stop.

Here’s what I find most interesting about sympathetic Henry: if he’s a demonstration of the good within evil... what does that imply about his narrative foil?

Will does not like to hurt others and he does not want to become that person. He couldn’t even shoot the Demogorgon in self-defense.

But he’s quick to hurt himself if it means helping his loved ones. He was willing to sacrifice himself in order to close the gate in S2, and he immediately bottled up his feelings to deal with the Mind Flayer in S3 despite being in the midst of a complete mental breakdown as a result of bottling his feelings up for too long.

And in S4, Will knows that his feelings are exactly what will make Mike feel better, but he’s too scared to come out or risk making his bestie feel uncomfortable, so he shills for heteronormativity and disguises his feelings as his sister’s under the assumption that’s what Mike wants to hear.

It is not what Mike wants to hear.

Mike feels pressured to lie to El. El is so distracted by his bullshit that Henry has time to kill Max. Max’s death opens the final gate.

The world ends, and Will Byers played a key role in it.

In his zeal to be a Good Celibate Gay and do no harm, he contributed to the worst harm imaginable. But he felt justified in what he was doing. He thought he had no other option than to decide on Mike’s behalf how he should feel.

Henry’s gonna have a fucking field day calling him out on that one.

Will isn’t a villain and he isn’t going to become one; the real villain in Stranger Things isn’t a person or a monster so much as the monstrous things people do. If there’s one lesson to take away from this show, I’d say it’s to remember that any of us -- even sweet, gentle, well-meaning Will Byers -- is capable of evil.

But it’s okay. Will’s internalized homophobia may have helped end the world... that just means honesty, acceptance, and love are the tools he’ll need to save it again. We’re all capable of that, too.

[aloysiavirgata]

Tiny AU where they just have a normal baby 🥹

They name her Rosalind Elizabeth, after Franklin and Blackwell. She has a thatch of dark hair like the pelt of a mink. She has the kyanite eyes of a storm witch.

*

“They look like a nice Stilton,” Mulder observes, Scully’s breasts blue-veined over skin so plump and creamy even her baggiest sweatshirts have a seductive air.

She wrinkles her nose. “You’ve been out of the game for too long,” she says. “That’s hardly complimentary. Mold, honestly.”

“I’m a fun-guy,” he says, and Rosalind turns her head to hiccup with disdain.

*

Skinner holds the baby with surprising ease. “Eleven nieces and nephews,” he tells Mulder, who surveys his daughter for any sign of distress.

“This baby is especially discerning,” Mulder says. “She is highly refined.”

Skinner pokes Rosalind’s fat little frog belly.

She gurgles with appreciation, reaches for Uncle Walter’s tie.

“You can tell the difference can’t you, sweetheart,” Skinner asks warmly.

Mulder scowls as Rosalind coos in reply.

*

“Fuck,” Scully hisses at her tiny daughter. “Sweet merciful Christ, we’re weaning her.”

Rosalind drools past four razor-sharp teeth, onto her mother’s bare, bitten nipple. Then she wails in disappointment, in deprivation.

Mulder pops a pacifier into her perfect rosebud mouth, watches her impossibly long lashes flutter against her cheeks like butterflies on Calimyrna figs.

The baby hums a little, settles. Sleeps.

Mulder nuzzles against the salt-caramel sweetness of her mother’s neck, his palm soothing the bleeding breast. “Sheriff Hartwell,” he murmurs into her pale throat. “I want a paternity test.”

*

“No,” Rosalind says sweetly to Uncle Byers. She pats his beard with fat starfish hands. “No.”

Frohike hoots. “Well, if that isn’t her mother’s daughter!”

Byers looks mournfully at his copy of the Junior Cryptids board book. “Rosie,” he says. “S is for Sasquatch.”

Rosalind beams back with a gummy smile. “Monkey,” she burbles.

*

Mulder holds her hand as she steps delicately across the grass.

Rosalind looks up at him, her hot chocolate hair a tumble of silken ringlets.

“Bye bye,” she says.

She releases his finger, staggers drunkenly towards her mother on the other side of the blanket.

“Daddy,” Rosalind observes. “Ma.”

She walks like Bambi on ice, like a coltish girl in her first high heels.

Mulder’s sinuses burn, his eyes are hot and wet as the deep-ocean thermal vents, where the most improbable life begins.

[winterlynightlystories]

Welcome to Hawkins

Tw; swearing, mention of child abuse, mention of injuries.

To not steal my work, thank you!

Billy Hargrove/Male reader (he/him)

Summary; you find Billy on the side of the road, bloody and angry. The worse part? You are not alone in the dark.

~~~

Hawkins was a weird place. Even before the Byers boy went missing, the town faced strange things. Electrical anomalies, weird sightings in the forest and sometimes animals would meet a gruesome end. By now you were used to it.

Until the Hargrove came to town.

Hawkins was a small place where everybody knew everyone. There was no secret, not even inside your home. Even if you went in the middle of the wood, by morning the whole town would be aware of what you did. So it was no surprise they were met with mistrust.

Because it only took one look for everyone to agree; there was something wrong with them all. Especially with the father, you thought. With the way, he spoke to his son and how Billy would sometime flinch when his father moved his hands. It was obvious that something was going on.

And then they all met Billy Hargrove at school. Violent, racist, and always ready to fight. He tried so hard to be the king of the school, it was almost pathetic. But he was good to party with, you heard.

For your part, you disliked him. Billy and you would always fight; in the corridors, after school or even during sports class. Sometimes he would win, but most of the time? You would show no mercy and beat the shit out of him.

You weren't violent, some would even call you peaceful. But peaceful doesn't mean harmless and you refused to let Billy Hargrove do as he pleased.

You also pitied him.

No one was blind to the bruised he would try to play off as accidents or results of fights that never happened. Or how he would flinch, even so slightly when someone accidentally slammed a door or dropped something heavy. Or the fear his eyes would hold for a second when someone would throw a ball of paper and it would pass close to his head.

It broke your heart.

And there was nothing you could do.

That night as you drove, the forest on each side of the road, you kept thinking about the Hargrove boy. You wondered what kind of person he really was underneath all those masks he wore to protect himself.

Halfway through the forest, something caught your attention. At first, you thought it was a dead animal, maybe a deer. But then, it moved.

- “Shit!” you cursed, hitting the brake. “Hargrove? What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked, getting out of your car.

Because sitting on the side of the road was the one and only Billy Hargrove. Hair messy and bloody lips, Billy seemed to come out of a fight as the loser. But something was terribly wrong; his eyes were red and puffy and wet as if he has cried.

- “Fuck off man.” Billy snapped, looking away.

- “Seriously?” you sighed “C’mon city boy, I'm driving you home.” you added, eyes turning to the forest.

- “I said, fuck off! Or are you deaf?” replied Hargrove, making you grunt.

- “Oh, shut up. You think I'm leaving you here to be eaten by a bear?”

- “There aren't any bears in Hawkins.” objected Billy, scuffing.

- “Ah yes! I forgot it was my imaginary friend Steve who killed those animals!” you replied sarcastically. “Now you either get in the car by yourself like the good boy you are, or I'll get you in.”

- “Fuck. You.” slowly said Billy, smiling. “Anyway, why do you care so much? We are not friends or anything.”

- “Because there is no way I am leaving you here in the middle of the night!” you snapped, approaching him.

- “Wait, wait, wait! Don't tell me you are scared?” mocked Billy. “Seriously? Scared of the dark, Y/n?”

- “No, not the dark, but of what's hiding in it,” you said, seriously, stopping in front of Billy.

Billy was about to reply something when you heard the eeriest scream coming from the forest. You both froze, staring into the darkness. There was no sound, not even a cricket, or wind. It felt just wrong. Like a second before the disaster. And you felt watched like a prey being stalked.

- “Hargrove, get in the car.” you said, voice shaking as you saw a large shadow move between the tree. “NOW!”

You grabbed him by the collar and turned on your heels. Without another word, you two ran as another scream came from the forest, closer this time.

You barely closed the door before turning the engine on and driving away as fast as you could.

- “What the fuck was that?” asked Billy, looking behind. “That wasn't a bear!”

- “I don't know! I don't fucking know, man!” you replied, still freaking out. “It was too skinny to be a bear. Maybe a sick deer.”

- “Bitch, are you serious? Deer don't stand on their back legs!”

You didn't have the time to reply to anything, spotting the shadow on your left. In the dark, you could not really distinguish anything, but you could swear it was now running on four.

- “I don't want to sound dramatic, but I think it's following us.” you said.

- “How...”

Billy never finished his sentence. Instead, you both screamed when a tall shadow jumped in front of the car as you hit the brakes.

Standing on its back legs, the creature had smooth skin, almost like an eel” you thought. But darker. Like charcoal or shadows. And its head was like a flower.

You almost screamed again, feeling Billy gripping your arms and digging his nails into your skin.

- “What the fuck. Man, what the fuck is that?” he asked, his voice a mumbling mess.

- “Don't ask me! I don't know!” you whined, hands shaking on the wheel. “Man, I can't do a U-turn and there is no way I can drive in reverse in the dark.”

- “Then just run over it! Do something!”

And you did just that.

Pushing your car as fast as it could toward the creature. Maybe it knew what you were trying to do, or maybe it got scared, but seconds before the impact, the creature jumped out of your way. You sighed in relief but didn't slow down.

You heard Billy’s breath slow down before you felt his forehead on your shoulder. If he was crying, you saw nothing, because God be your witness, you were too. Not letting go of your arm, Billy actually tightened his grip.

- “Tell me it's gone. Please tell me it's gone.” he begged with a small voice.

- “Yeah, I don't see it anymore,” you replied.

- “I don't think I can go party anymore.”,” said Billy.

- “Yeah. Welcome to Hawkins.” you scoffed. “So, mind guiding me to your place?”

- “I'll rather not” he whispered.

- “Mind if I take you to mine then? I'll give you some of my shit and will take care of those bruised. I know where my parents hid their alcohol. God, I need a drink!”

- “As long as you share that drink, that sounds good to me. But I'm taking the bed!”

- “Fine princess!”

Billy said nothing and you relaxed. Heart still racing in your chest, you wondered of it was that thing who was responsible for the latest slaughter in the nearby farms. Or killed those missing outsiders. A part of you also knew you needed to call the sheriff, but the other knew it was useless. No one would believe you and you didn't want to put Billy in more danger.

So to your home, it was.

[waldos-art]

All Green and Gold by WaldosAkimbo

Words: 20,338

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Jonathan Byers & Steve Harrington, Tommy Hagan & Steve Harrington

Characters: Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson, Billy Hargrove, Tommy Hagan, Jonathan Byers, Original Characters, Corroded Coffin (Strangers Things), Jim "Chief" Hopper

Tags: Cowboy AU, Cowboy Hats, cattle rustling, Outlaw Eddie Munson, Ranch Hand Billy Hargrove, Rich Steve Harrington, First Time, Blow Job, Anal, Good Boy, Surprises, Gunshot Wounds, Alcohol, Smoking

Summary:

The first time Steve has ever been on a cattle run for his father, traveling all the way to Texas, he soon learned what Billy Hargrove was all about. And he was hooked. Even through the sweltering heat, being with Billy made sense. But the Harrington name draws attention, and soon enough Steve finds himself at the mercy of an outlaw and his gang, cattle rustlers with a penchant for ropes. Can Steve escape Eddie Munson and his gang? More importantly, as they get closer, does he even want to?

Beta: Meleerage and Star

Art by @arimakes

All Green And Gold Fic

Created for @strangerthingsreversebigbang

[grey-sides]

Steve knows he's supposed to be mature, above it all and ready to turn his nose away from Billy. Let him goad and act like he can get under Steve's skin.

And well, he can is the thing because Steve keeps letting him. He lets his eyes wander, tries to find a weak point. A place he can slam his shoulder into Billy's and smirk when Hargrove snaps back.

Steve told Nancy he didn't care what kind of car Hargrove drove or how he likes to act. But he does care. Steve cares a lot.

Their first fight, at the Byers' when he was playing it cool, it lights the fire. He hurts, sure, but he's ready for the next one.

This time out by the quarry, Billy whooping while Steve laughs. He wins that one, but there are no plates around.

Another in the junkyard, using cars as a makeshift ring. Steve watches the moon glint off Billy's eyes and licks the blood from his upper lip.

Later, the last of the first, in Steve's own backyard. When a punch drags him in instead of pushing him out. When he tastes Billy's sweat and adrenaline, the iron of his blood against his lips.

Steve feels like it's all mixed together, his rage and excitement. His desire, his eagerness to get Billy closer.

The next time is different. More playful, less painful, rolling around until someone is begging for a different kind of mercy.

And he is above it. And under it. And wrapped around Billy.

[hbyrde36]

Times Like These (The Anniversary Edition)

CH 1 CH 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch5 Ch 6 Ch 7 Ch 8 Ch 9 Ch 10 Ch 11

Chapter 12: Live Again

WC: 6195 | AO3 link | CW: Smut

For two weeks Eddie didn’t leave the house.

He wasn’t in hiding, exactly, he just… wasn’t quite ready for the outside world yet.

There was no one shouting for his head since Chrissy was alive and therefore he was never tied to the mysterious deaths in town, save for the fact that he’d been the lone surviving victim of the same killer, officially. The Hawkins Post called him a hero, for escaping, for living. 

Most of the time, he didn’t feel much like one. 

While he was struggling, everyone else seemed to be settling into life post-Vecna, their new normal, with ease.

The Byers moved back to Hawkins. 

Joyce and Hopper, after his miraculous return to life that came with a cover story Eddie didn’t even want to know, had flown to California a day or two after the battle to pack up what was salvageable from the house in Lenora. The place had apparently been ransacked in their absence by the same sector of the government that had tried to capture Eleven, or so Dustin had said during one of his visits. Now they were back, one big happy blended family, staying at Hopper’s old cabin until they could find something better.

School started up again. 

Jonathan, Will, and El still had to wait for their transfers to go through, but the rest of the kids, Robin, Chrissy, and Nancy all returned to the halls of Hawkins High like it was nothing, like the world as they knew it hadn’t irrevocably changed.

Maybe for them, it hadn’t.

Maybe Eddie was the only one having a hard time returning to his life. 

He faked it well enough when anyone else was around, but in reality he barely ate and couldn't sleep—not quite able to believe that it was truly over, still waiting for the other shoe to drop. And on the rare occasion that he did manage to get some rest, he always woke in a panic, half-expecting to find himself back at the beginning again.

Though his injuries were essentially just a broken arm, Principal Higgins, in a rare show of mercy, agreed to allow him to finish out what was left of the school year at home, provided someone was willing to bring the materials to him and drop the completed work back off to his teachers the next day. 

Chrissy was a godsend, who happily jumped at the chance to help him out now that she had plenty of free time, since her first order of business when school resumed was to quit the cheerleading squad. And, in what he could only assume was an effort to tank her reputation as thoroughly and as quickly as possible, sat with the kids at the Hellfire table in the cafeteria when lunchtime rolled around, to the collective bafflement of Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. 

That had been a fun conversation to bullshit his way through when they stopped by to see him last week.

Chrissy was also the one person who, apart from Wayne, knew that he wasn’t doing well. With the amount of time she spent over at the trailer, it was kind of inevitable that he wouldn't be able to hide from her the way he could with the others. 

He knew she wanted to ask, wanted him to open up and talk about all the reasons why he was having such a hard time moving on, but he couldn't. He wouldn’t burden her with all that, she already knew enough. She didn’t need to hear how a large portion of his nightmares featured her body breaking over and over again right before his eyes. 

As far as the other thing, she knew something had happened between him and Steve, everyone seemed to know even if they didn't know what, but no one talked about it.

Just like in the hospital, Eddie didn’t ask, and no one else mentioned Steve either, which he’d been grateful for at first, not needing the painful reminder of how badly he’d fucked up, but it was getting infuriating, the not knowing. 

He just wanted to know that Steve was okay, to see for himself that Steve was real, and alive. 

Which was his only reason for agreeing to attend a movie night in the Wheelers cramped basement, surrounded by the smell of sweaty teenage boys and burnt popcorn. The potential of seeing Steve completely overrode his good sense. 

Except, Steve never showed. 

Nearly two hours of staring at the wall, and for nothing. He didn’t even know what movie they’d been watching, his thoughts too loud for him to pay attention. 

When the credits rolled and the kids started to move around again, Eddie booked it up the stairs, needing some air and a smoke to calm his nerves, not realizing that Chrissy and Robin were following close behind him.

The cigarette was dangling from his lips, lighter halfway to his mouth when the two girls burst out the door he’d just come through. He raised a single eyebrow and continued to light his smoke.

Robin wrinkled her nose and waved a hand in front of her face reflexively. “I don’t know a nice way to say this, so I’m just gonna say it. You look terrible. I mean Chrissy said, but I didn’t think it was this bad. Are you okay?!”

Chrissy smacked her on the arm. “Robin!”

Eddie sighed, blowing out a long plume of smoke. “No, that was fair. I haven't taken a good look in the mirror lately, but I'm sure you’re not wrong.”

“Sorry.” Robin winced. “In Chrissy’s defense all she told me was that she’s worried about you, that it didn’t seem like you were handling life after the Upside Down so great.”

He thought about playing it off, the same way he had dozens of times before when different members of their little group had come to check up on him, but he was tired—tired of lying about it and far too tired to come up with any convincing bullshit.

“I’m not. You’re right about that, both of you. I, uh, don’t really sleep much these days? And anytime I do close my eyes—it’s a nightmare. Either a literal one, or I wake up not being sure if any of what happened was real, or if it was just another failed loop and I'm about to start back at the beginning again. I mean, it’s been two weeks but it’s like I can't accept it. I can't accept that it’s done. I keep thinking maybe if I knew how it happened, if I could somehow be absolutely sure that it won’t happen again, maybe I could relax, but… what are the chances of that.”

It felt good to say it out loud for once, to name it and let it out instead of keeping it all bottled up inside.

"I wish there was more we could do to help." Chrissy said, running a hand up and down his back, careful not to bump his cast.  

"I know you have Wayne, and Chrissy of course, but you have me too—all of us.” Robin bit her lip, and he wondered if she was also thinking about the big Steve-sized hole in that—all of us, she claimed he had.

“We all get nightmares and stuff like that,” She continued, “And if you ever need to you can call me anytime, day or night.”

“Thanks, Buckley.” He said.

Wayne’s truck pulled up to the mailbox, the man himself waving from inside the cab. 

Even with his broken arm Eddie could have driven himself just fine, but his uncle insisted on giving him a ride. He figured if it made the old man feel better there was no sense in arguing about it.

Eddie waved back, and turned to say goodbye to the girls. 

“I guess I'd better go. Um, listen, Robin, is Steve okay? I just—I know he doesn’t want to see me, or whatever, but can you at least tell me that much?”

“I—He’s—Well,” Robin stuttered, opening and closing her mouth like a fish for a moment before finally snapping it shut. She studied his face, and seemed to come to some kind of decision, nodding to herself as she took a deep breath.

“Y’know what? Screw it, he can be mad at me if he wants to. Eddie, he’s a mess. He asked me not to say anything, especially to you, but—it’s so stupid! And it’s not like it’s some big secret that he hasn’t been around!” 

Eddie’s heart sank. “What do you mean?”

“He put in for a leave of absence at work. He won’t leave the house, won’t let the kids come over—he hardly even lets me see him anymore.”

“Oh.”

The truck’s horn went off, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet night air when the only other noise came from crickets chirping softly in the grass. All three of them jumped, looking around in a panic, and Wayne rolled his window down to shout out an apology. “Sorry kids! And I’m sorry to rush you, son, but I gotta get you home so I can get to work.”

-

By two o’clock in the morning Eddie had put his jacket on, gone all the way out to the van with keys in hand, started it, shut it off again, and gone back inside—twice. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about Steve. 

Which, in and of itself wasn’t unusual, the other boy was never far from his thoughts. A little over fourteen days since he’d seen him and it still didn’t hurt any less. 

The full out rejection. The radio silence. The complete avoidance. 

He’d expected the rejection, although he assumed it would have come after his confession, but beyond that he’d expected to retain, at the very least, an awkward friendship after that. They still shared a brood of freshmen, and whether they were… friends or not, that fact alone meant they’d be forced to interact at least some of the time.

But it was clear that even friendship wasn’t on the table, and till now Eddie felt like he had no choice but to sulk and accept it. What he learned tonight changed things. He was worried now. Steve wasn’t only avoiding him he was avoiding everyone, and it had to be his fault, somehow. Eddie wasn’t stupid, he knew that much, and that meant it was up to him to fix it. 

If Steve was avoiding the party in an effort to avoid him, well, maybe they could come up with a schedule, some sort-of joint custody agreement. 

If it was something else? Eddie didn’t know what he’d do, but he’d figure it out.

He was still pacing the floor in the living room, wondering how early would be too early to show up at Steve's house in the morning to hash things out, when there was a knock on the door. 

It was probably Max, he tried to tell his suddenly racing heart. She’d done it once or twice since he’d been home from the hospital, showing up in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep and saw his lights on. Still, he wasn’t about to get caught-out if it was someone less friendly stopping by for a visit this close to the witching hour, so he picked up the crowbar he’d taken to keeping by the door before easing it open to face whoever was on the other side of it. 

“Wha—Steve?” Eddie stuttered out, genuinely unsure for a moment because the boy in front of him had hollow, lifeless eyes set above dark bruising, as though he’d slept even less in recent days than Eddie himself had. His hair was flat, face pale and drawn. 

He was still painfully beautiful, because Steve could never not be that, but emphasis on the painful—the guy looked tortured, there was no other word for it. 

Steve glanced around nervously, refusing to meet his eyes. “Yeah, I–uh, sorry to just show up—”

Eddie stood in the doorway, mouth agape, frozen in shock. He blinked hard wondering if he’d lost it, if he was hallucinating the other boy showing up on his doorstep like this.

“C–can I come in? Just for a minute.” Steve asked.

The urge to reach out and touch Steve to make sure he was real, was strong, but he resisted.

“Yeah, sure, o-of course.” Eddie turned, propping the crowbar back up against the doorframe and took a few steps towards the couch, assuming Steve would follow, but quickly realized that he hadn’t moved. Eddie glanced back over his shoulder to find Steve still standing on the threshold, staring up at a spot on the ceiling.

“You okay?” Eddie asked.

Steve startled back to life, clearing his throat awkwardly as he finally ventured inside, closing the door behind him. 

Eddie sat down on the far end of the couch, hoping Steve would take the spot beside him, but instead he perched on the end of Wayne’s armchair across the room and dropped his head into his hands, leaning his elbows on his knees. Eddie was about to ask again if the other boy was okay, a dumb question really when the answer was so obviously no, but before he could open his mouth Steve began to speak—soft, and slow.

“Robin called me. She said you've been worried… a-about the loops restarting? And that you said, maybe if you knew–” 

He trailed off, and was quiet for long enough that Eddie had to say something.

“Steve, what–”

“The original timeline,” Steve rushed out, raising his head to look Eddie in the eyes for the first time since he’d opened the door. “I remember it.” He swallowed hard. “And I know what started all this.”

Eddie's stomach sank straight through the floor, and for a moment he lost all sense of the world around him, the sound of static and his own heart pounding was loud in his ears. 

This wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be real. He couldn’t possibly have heard Steve right.

“It was Owens,” Steve went on, his voice shaky. “Well, his people—the lab. I was there when they did it.”

Hearing that tremor in Steve’s words was what finally snapped Eddie out of it. This was happening, it was very real, and Steve was trembling from the remembrance.

“When we, uh—'' Steve dropped his gaze to the floor abruptly, as if suddenly realizing their eyes had met, and went back to staring at the carpet. “After we realized we’d failed, Robin, Nancy, and I, raced back to the trailer and I–I found Dustin sitting with y-y-your–” Steve stuttered, sniffling and wiping at his face roughly as he took a deep ragged breath. 

“Your body. I checked for a pulse but you were gone… already going cold. It couldn’t even have been that long, but it was like that place was taking it from you, your warmth, and I—we couldn't just leave you there, so I carried you out. One of Owens’ colleagues, Stinson, she was there waiting for us on the other side.” 

He paused, giving a little shake of his head. “She knew everything, including that we hadn’t killed Vecna because there were these huge cracks in the ground that ran all over town just like Nancy described in her vision. Then Stinson saw what I was carrying—you—and said she might have a way to help, a way to fix everything, but they'd need to take you with them. I–I couldn't just let them have you without knowing what they planned to do, so I went too, while the others went on to the hospital.”

Eddie was reeling, struggling to take it all in, to process what Steve was saying, all the while wanting desperately to comfort him somehow—but he was frozen in place.

“...Hospital?” He managed to ask, throat tight.

“Max.” Steve wrapped his arms around himself, glancing out the window in the direction of the girl’s house. “She was in some kind of coma or something. She died–”

Eddie gasped, bringing a hand to his chest. Red… he’d never known what happened to her in those first few failed loops.

“El brought her back,” Steve added quickly, head snapping back around at Eddie’s sharp intake of breath. “But she was dead—long enough to almost destroy the town. Four deaths, four chimes. It stopped spreading, the damage, when El brought her back but Vecna still won.”

“Steve, why–” Eddie began his question not even knowing what to ask first. It was all so much—too much.

“Why didn’t I just let them take you?” Steve guessed when he didn’t finish.

Eddie nodded, it was one of the many things he wondered about.

“I didn’t know what was going to happen, and I thought… th-the least I could do was make sure your uncle had a body to bury.”

Eddie threw a hand over his own mouth, stifling the sound that threatened to escape his throat as tears sprung to his eyes. He knew he’d died, and the dying itself had been no picnic, but to him the in-between had been nothing more than a bit of floaty darkness before he dropped back down into the world with a fresh start. He’d never really considered it from the outside—being a body for them to deal with, a lifeless husk that Steve had guarded if only so Wayne could have closure.

“We drove somewhere, maybe an hour outside of Hawkins where they’d built this big machine, kinda like, well, kinda like the Russians had under the mall, I guess. I didn’t understand most of it, science was never my best subject.”

Steve huffed a bitter laugh, rubbing his hands together as he continued. 

“But, uh, they said it could reverse time, or like, send a few of us back for another chance at stopping Vecna? That’s what they wanted your body for—honestly it sounded crazy, like something out of one of Dustin’s science fiction novels, but they said they could use you and the moment of your death as some kind of anchor point, the event that would slingshot time back—and would keep snapping it back until you lived, and hopefully that would mean Vecna didn’t. We waited two days, until Eleven made it back. I wanted her there too so she would remember and be able to help. We were supposed to–”  Steve swallowed back a sob, his chest contracting as he raked his hands roughly through his hair. 

“Eddie, I'm so sorry. We were supposed to remember too, you were never supposed to be alone in this. Maybe if I had, you wouldn’t have had to—” 

“No,” Eddie cut him off. “Don’t do that to yourself. None of that is your fault, ok? It’s over. He’s gone, and we’re here, and that’s all that matters now.”

Eddie rose from his spot on the couch, and had barely taken one foot in Steve’s direction when the other boy shot up out of his seat like it’d suddenly caught fire, rushing towards the door.

“Steve, wait.” Eddie called out, catching up in a few short strides. 

Steve froze with his hand on the door, but didn’t turn around. “So, you see? You don't have to worry anymore. It's—like you said, he’s dead and you’re not. The conditions were met. It’s over. That’s all I wanted you to know.”

The handle turned and Steve began to pull the door open, but Eddie couldn’t let him go, not like this, not without—

Eddie crowded up behind him, reaching past to slap his palm on the door, keeping it closed.

“Please,” Eddie quietly begged, close enough now to feel the heat of Steve’s body, to smell his skin. “Just, please… can we talk?”

“What else is there to talk about?”

“What else do you remember?”

“Everything, Eddie,” Steve breathed, barely a whisper. “I remember all of it.”

Eddie dropped his hand from the door, stumbling back. He should have expected it, because why would Steve only regain his memory of that first time, but for some reason it took him entirely off balance. 

“When?” 

“The first night you were in the hospital.” Steve turned to face him, expression resigned. “I fell asleep on a chair in your room and it was like—like a flash of lightning inside my head. I woke up and suddenly it all came rushing back. I thought I was losing my mind at first but eventually I realized what it was—that I remembered.”

“Oh.”

That was why Steve had left the hospital and never returned. Eddie had been right all along. He’d been right to worry. Steve remembered their time together—the touches, the kiss, and he regretted it all so goddamn much that he’d rather disappear than be anywhere near him.  

Eddie curled in on himself, almost wishing that he’d just let Steve go when he’d wanted to.

“Don’t worry,” Steve said, reaching again for the door. “I won’t tell anyone what happened between us. I know it didn’t mean anything to you.” 

Eddie almost didn’t hear it, already so lost in the dark storm of his own thoughts that it took a second for his brain to catch up with what Steve said. 

When it did? His heart stopped. 

“Wait, what did you just say?”

Steve sighed heavily, leaning against the door as though it was the only thing keeping him upright. “It’s fine, Eddie, really—I’m used to it by now. You don’t have to explain, try and make me feel better or anything like that. I—It was dumb to even think you might feel the same. I-I’m sorry I kissed you like that, I was way out of line.”

“What are you saying? What the fuck is happening right now?”

Steve scoffed, a little life—a little fire even, returning to his eyes. “Don’t! Don't stand there and pretend like you don’t know exactly what–”

“I don’t!" Eddie shot back. "I-I thought… It’s all backwards! Don’t you regret kissing me? Isn’t that why you left me at the hospital? Why you’ve been avoiding everyone, because you didn’t want to be around me?”

“That’s not—I mean that’s part of why I've been hiding, but it’s also everything else. I don’t know how you carried all of this on your own for so–” Steve cut himself off, clenching his jaw. “And why shouldn't I regret it? Once I remembered, all I could think about was how hard you tried to stay away from me, no matter how hard I—like an idiot—tried to get close to you. You didn’t want to share a bed with me again until I basically forced you to. You didn’t want me there with you at the Creel house—you were so angry on that last day, so disgusted with me.”

“Steve, no, it’s not–”

“What else was I supposed to think?!” Steve snapped. “I kissed you, I put it all out there in front of everyone, and I’m sorry that I didn’t remember, but you did! You remembered everything and you didn’t tell me! Well, message received loud and clear.”

Oh god, Eddie knew he’d fucked up but he’d never dreamed—Steve had it all wrong.

“Sweetheart—”

“You said it didn’t mean anything!” Steve shouted, tears flowing freely down his face. 

Eddie's already broken heart shattered into a million pieces.

“I lied!” He shouted back, the words ringing out in the sudden silence as Steve stared at him, mouth half open. 

“I… I was so fucked up after you died—still am fucked up about it. I was devastated, and terrified, and everything had just been ripped away from me—erased from history, and I was alone again.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What was I supposed to do, Steve? What—how do you tell all of that to someone?!” 

Eddie raked a hand over his face, blowing out a long breath. “Oh, hey, so I know you barely know me, and you won’t remember this, but we’ve spent the past week cuddling in your bed together and sharing our deepest thoughts and feelings and secrets, and then you kissed me, and now I think I’m in love with you?!”

Steve sucked in a breath, a wounded sound escaping his lips.

“You love me?”

Eddie sputtered, briefly considering making a break for his bedroom and locking the door until Steve left, but it was out there now, for better or worse. This had always been his plan, right? To tell Steve the truth—everything. It was time to stop running.

With all the courage he could muster Eddie held Steve’s gaze, and nodded.

“Yes.”

Without warning Steve surged forward, crushing their mouths together, and Eddie didn’t hesitate for even a second to kiss back. It was a desperate, almost painful thing, teeth clacking, and wet where their tears streaked each other’s faces. 

Steve wrapped his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, cradling the back of his head as he deepened the kiss. In turn, Eddie gripped Steve’s side hard with his one good hand, trying to bring him in closer, whining when Steve broke away suddenly, only to rest their foreheads together. 

“Eddie, I lo–”

“Don’t,” the word came flying out of Eddie’s mouth without his permission. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it, please.”

“Eddie, I remember everything. I’ve been drawn to you since the very beginning. From the moment you shoved me into that wall in the boathouse it was like you brought the color back into my world, when I didn’t even realize it was missing.”

Steve smiled, cupping his cheek, and pressed their heads even more firmly together. “I love you too.”

Eddie sobbed, sagging in Steve’s arms as he pressed his face into the crook of the other boy’s neck. “I missed you so much.”

“I was right here the whole time.” Steve gently rocked them together.

“I know,” Eddie hiccupped, letting out the ghost of a laugh, though none of this was funny. “I know. It’s my fault. I knew I could try again, even if I couldn’t tell you how close we’d become. I could have tried to start over but I couldn't get it out of my head, how easily it was all just gone, how you were just gone and I—It was safer to not, easier, or so I thought. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Steve shushed him, pressing a kiss to his cheek and another under his jaw. “I’m sorry too, I should have talked to you, told you that I remembered, and let you explain like you wrote.”

Their lips met again, no less desperate than before. If anything it was moreso, hungry for each other on a maddening level after so much time apart and so many feelings thought unrequited. 

Steve pushed his tongue into his mouth and Eddie welcomed the intrusion, moaning as he pushed Steve back until he was pressing him into the wall, caging him in, not once breaking the kiss. 

And Eddie knew they should probably talk more, make sure they were on the same page, and they would, but for now he just wanted to feel him, smell him, taste him. He wanted to make Steve feel good. 

His fingers played along the waistband of Steve’s jeans as he let his mouth roam lower, nipping and sucking at Steve’s neck, and came to rest on his fly, thumb grazing the button there. 

“This okay?” Eddie asked, panting, lips still pressed to skin.

Steve nodded, breath hitching as Eddie went back to work on his neck, sucking a bruise into the side of his throat as he undid Steve’s jeans with practiced fingers. 

Eddie sank to his knees, bracing himself with one hand on Steve’s thigh while he kept his casted arm tucked tight to his side. He looked up through his lashes at Steve’s flushed face, and grinned. “A little help?”

“Christ,” Steve breathed, quickly pushing his own pants and boxers down far enough to let his hardening length spring free, bobbing heavily right in front of Eddie’s face. 

Eddie leaned in, ignoring Steve’s unfairly gorgeous cock for now, and rubbed his cheek along his thigh, mouthing at his balls and pressing lips everywhere except where Steve was so desperate to be touched.

Steve looked down with heavy-lidded eyes, reaching out to touch Eddie’s face, and Eddie shamelessly nuzzled into it.

“I dreamed about having you like this so many times.” Steve said, running his thumb along Eddie’s lower lip.

Eddie's own cock twitched, and he’d never been more thankful to be wearing sweatpants. He was already painfully hard and throbbing, it would have been unbearable in his usual tight jeans.

“You been thinking about getting me on my knees, sweetheart?” Eddie wrapped his hand around Steve’s length, squeezing gently as he lapped at the tip. 

Steve threw his head back, gasping, “Eddie, fuck.”

“When was the first time? When did you realize you wanted to see me like this?”

As soon as the question was asked Eddie wrapped his lips around the head of Steve’s cock and sank down, slowly taking inch after inch into his mouth.

“The RV.” Steve grunted, breath stuttering as Eddie began to bob his head. “The very first time.” 

Steve wound a hand into Eddie's hair, pulling it out of his face, gripping it lightly at the root. “It was so hot watching you hotwire it—you and those fucking hands. Then you called me big boy and I was a goner.”

Oh god, it really had been right from the beginning, and Eddie hadn’t known. He’d felt it himself, this pull towards the other boy even if he hadn’t really realized what it was until later. 

Eddie moaned loudly around the cock in his mouth, taking it all the way down until Steve hit the back of his throat. 

Steve shuddered, hips bucking. “It was the same in the second and third loops. You just–”

Eddie pulled back briefly to catch his breath, letting the head of Steve’s cock rest on his tongue as he stroked him with his hand.

“Oh fuck–” Steve squeezed his eyes, sucking in a breath, chest heaving. “Eddie, once I knew you each loop—every time—once I really saw you? I couldn't look away.”

Eddie sank down again, taking Steve right to the hilt this time with no build up. He doubled his efforts from before, swallowing reflexively each time the head of Steve’s cock slammed into the back of his throat. 

“I’m close.” Steve hissed, bottom lip trapped between his teeth.

It was the only warning Eddie had before Steve pulsed in his mouth, coating his tongue in hot bitter fluid. Not that he minded, not at all. He swallowed it down greedily, hollowing his cheeks as he worked Steve all the way through his orgasm, swirling his tongue around the tip of him as he finally pulled off.

Eddie sat back on his heels while Steve recovered and he caught his breath, swiping the back of his hand across his chin, wet with spit and a little bit of cum that had escaped the corner of his mouth. He glanced up, locking eyes with Steve as he cleaned off the mess with his tongue.

“Jesus Christ,” Steve breathed, his spent cock twitching valiantly at the sight. He quickly tucked himself away, pulling his pants most of the way back up before helping Eddie to his feet and taking him into his arms. 

Steve’s lips were on him immediately, tongue fucking into his mouth like he was trying to mirror what they’d just done. Eddie was pretty sure he’d never been so turned on in his life, and when he felt Steve’s thigh slide between his legs, didn’t hesitate to grind himself against it. 

He probably could’ve come just from that, feeling pent up and insane in the best way, but when his movements became too erratic Steve pulled his leg back. Eddie whined into Steve’s mouth at the loss, until he realized what the other boy intended. 

Steve snaked a hand up under Eddie’s shirt, his fingers brushing through the hair of his happy trail, coming to rest just above the waistband of his pants as he pulled back from the kiss. 

“Can I touch you?”

“Please,” Eddie begged, feeling like he might explode before Steve could ever lay a finger on him. 

Steve wasted no time pushing Eddie’s pants out of the way, revealing his poor neglected cock, red and leaking at the tip, and though Eddie was pretty sure this was his first time doing anything like this with a guy, Steve wasn’t shy about taking him in hand—licking his lips as he spread the pre-cum around with his thumb to ease the drag.

It was almost embarrassing how quickly Eddie came over Steve’s fist, his vision nearly whiting out with the intensity of it, and he was pretty sure he would have fallen without Steve there to catch him.

When he’d recovered enough to stand on his own two feet, Eddie pulled the shirt right off his own back, for lack of anything else, and cleaned up the mess he’d made on Steve’s hand, enjoying the way the other boy’s eyes raked over his suddenly bare chest. 

“Will you stay? We could share my bed this time?” Eddie asked.

Steve smiled, pulling him in close and pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. “Nothing could make me leave you right now. As long as you want me, I'm here.” 

-

Though the bed and the room were different, laying tangled together with Steve was just as he remembered, familiar and comfortable, and now with the added bonus of bare skin. Having no more reason to cover up with each other they’d both fallen into bed in nothing but boxers. 

They faced each other, cuddled up in Eddie’s favorite position, his head tucked up under Steve’s chin, face pressed to his neck.

They were quiet for so long, just holding each other and for a minute Eddie thought Steve had fallen asleep, until he heard a sniffle and felt a drop of wetness land in his hair.

“Stevie, sweetheart–”

Eddie tried to look up, but Steve curled his arms more firmly around him, squeezing him tight. 

“You were dead. There was so much blood, and you were dead in my arms and I can’t stop seeing it when I close my eyes.” Steve sucked in a sharp breath, a few more tears splashing the top of Eddie’s head.  “I didn’t even know you that well yet and still–”

Eddie rubbed his hand along Steve’s back in soothing circles, giving him comfort and the space to grieve without pushing him to say any more. 

When he was calmer, and his crying slowed, Steve spoke again. “Thinking back on it with how I feel about you now, I just, I don’t know how I'd survive if something happened to you.” He drug his lips along Eddie’s temple. “I’m sorry, I know that’s a crazy fucking thing to say so soon.”

Eddie pulled back, and this time Steve let him, so he could finally look him in the eye. “It’s not crazy, or if it is, I mean, I get it. I—Steve, I feel exactly the same way. I was already so far gone on you, and then you kissed me and it was–It was like you were giving me everything I ever wanted and more. But then you died. If Jason hadn’t come along and shot me that night, I would have done it myself just for the chance to bring you back.”

Steve tilted his head, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind Eddie’s ear. “Maybe we’re both crazy.”

“Maybe.” Eddie smiled, a little bittersweet for the truth of it. “I’m sorry that I didn’t try to tell you. I–”

“It’s okay. Baby, you don’t have to keep explaining yourself.”

Baby.

Eddie shivered, but he couldn’t let what hearing that one little word did to his insides distract him from what he needed to say. 

“I–I was just so scared. I knew If I got too close to you again and it ended the same way, it would destroy me. I thought if I stayed away that I could protect myself, but I was already so in love with you. Staying away hurt almost as much as losing you would have. I think… a part of me was also worried that you were just exploring yourself with me, and I couldn’t handle the idea of only being your experiment. It wasn’t fair of me to put that fear on you, to not give you the benefit of the doubt. I was an asshole. I made a bad situation worse, and I’m just so sorry.”

“Are you still worried about that? That I’ll freak out about this, or change my mind?” Steve asked, not sounding mad or hurt, just wanting to understand.

“I’m trying not to,” Eddie answered honestly. “But, maybe—a little. There’s nothing quite like getting punched in the face right after your first kiss to make you cautious.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you. I promise this isn’t some fling or experiment to me. I–I meant it, Eddie. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Chapter 13: Epilogue

Special thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Reblogs are always appreciated, and if you want to be tagged just let me know! I'd be more than happy to do so 💜

Permanent taglist(open): @hitlikehammers @pearynice @penny00dreadful

Fic taglist(open): @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch @lawrencebshoggoth @stillfullofshit @lil-gremlin-things @mamafaithful @klausinamarink @starlight-archer