#stranger things reddit scares me

[throne-of-crows]

I braved the comments (died a little inside reading them) and have left a long comment if anyone is interested in reading it. Also if anyone feels like upvoting it please do as I can sense the downvotes from the milkvans coming.

Anyway this is the comment I left, thought I'd post it here as well where the people who see it are going to have a much more positive reaction:

All the people commenting that Will won’t get a romance because it isn’t a romance show need to remember that every other relevant character has had a romance at some point. Do you really think the only character they won’t give a romance to is the gay one? Especially when a big part of Will’s character arc is feeling like a mistake for being gay and thinking he will never find love (S4: ”When you’re different sometimes you feel like a mistake��, S3: “I’m not going to fall in love”). If he doesn’t find love then the show is proving his negative perception of himself and confirming his belief that he doesn’t deserve love just because he is gay.

The show has always been intended to be about outsiders and those who don’t quite fit in society. The original four boys are all bullied for some aspect of who they are. Shawn Levey (one of the directors) has said “our show is an anthem for the marginalised and imperfect”. An anthem is supposed to be uplifting, considering how Will has been bullied his whole life for being gay, I wouldn’t exactly call it an “anthem” if his story ends with him alone, brutally rejected or dead.

Also lots of people have been commenting that they think they’ll just show a meaningful glance with another boy at the end of the season to show hope for the future, or something like that, however is that really enough? For a character who has been there since season one, who is going to “take centre stage” in S5 according to the Duffers, I don’t think an implied future romance is good enough. It would be a complete cop out.

The idea that there isn’t time to give Will a romance is bullshit. In previous seasons they have built multiple romantic relationships, while the supernatural plot takes place, which add to the story not take away from it. They could give Will a romance with a new character in one season if they wanted to though I highly doubt this is the route they are planning to take. Especially since they have claimed they aren't introducing any new major character next season.

The plan has always been for Will to be gay so why would they wait so long to give him a love interest. (Before anyone says they haven’t been planning it from the start the character pitch for Will says he has “sexual identity issues” and in S1E1 Joyce says Lonnie calls him queer and the f-slur. They very clearly have always intended for Will to be gay.) Even Robin who we only find out is a lesbian at the end of season 3 is immediately given a love interest in season 4. But for Will who has been there since the start they haven’t.

Except they have, they have been building up his relationship with Mike the entire time. (I know I’m going to get a downvoted because of people’s attachment to Mileven however think for a second about why they have written them the way they have). From the start they have made it clear that Will and Mike’s friendship is different. It was always Mike’s reaction which was focussed on when Will was missing, it was Mike who was extremely protective of Will and always by his side in season 2. If this was just supposed to show close friendship then why have Mike start to pull away from Will when they get older? Why is he so awkward with him in season 4 to the extent he can’t even hug his best friend when an episode prior we see him enthusiastically hugging Dustin when they win D&D. Mike sees Will differently to his other friends. It being the 80s isn’t proof against them getting together, it is the explanation for why Mike acts the way he does. He doesn’t want to feel that way so he tries to suppress it which is why his behaviour changes so much in the later seasons because he’s trying to force himself to be someone he is not.

If they were going to make Will’s plotline falling for his best friend, getting rejected and then moving on, then Will would have been rejected in season 4. Will has been in love with Mike for years, it isn’t a small crush he’ll get over overnight. There is no reason to have drawn out the unrequited love for so long unless it wasn’t actually unrequited. They would have at least introduced the new love interest for Will in season 4 and have the audience know they’ll get together even if Will himself doesn’t know it yet.

Not giving Will the love he thinks he’ll never have would be a complete dismissal of his character. He’s suffered the entire show and deserves a meaningful ending to his story which (considering a big part of his story being about his sexuality) is impossible without him being given a romance. I’m not saying that every character has to have a romance, obviously not, however it is very clear that in his case you cannot end the arc of a character struggling with their sexuality without allowing them to actually address that sexuality in a meaningful way. That cannot be done with a single glance at another boy at the end, and a sense of hope for the future. That would be incredibly lazy writing and personally I have faith in the Duffer brothers that they will do their character justice and follow through on what has clearly been there from the start.

Absolutely terrified to check the comments on this one

[possumnotrat]

I remember being on Reddit once.

People were really mean so I left after 2 days :)

[bipanicoverthegravessiblings]

So um....can I get Yandere Andrea Graves (genderbent andrew)....please I'm desperat-

OH- an Andrea request??? Hell yeah I can do that!

TW: Yandere Behavior, Brief mentions of cigarette burns, assault, implied murder

Yandere!Andrea Graves x Reader

(Edit by Junkcoon on Reddit)

You love your girlfriend- really, truthfully you do

And she loves you too….maybe more than you love her

It’s such an intense, deep love that scares you sometimes

Purely because of how deep that love goes

The times she showed emotions, it was always so intense

Her adoration for you

Her detest for passersby who so much as looked at you wrong

Her panic attacks of fear when the nightmares hit

All- so intense for your usually quiet girlfriend

The panic attacks especially

She’d hold on to you, like you were going to float away. Her tears staining your shirt as she cried into your shoulder. Sometimes her nails would dig into your skin so hard it left marks

She was scared of losing you, and despite your reassurance that those fears would never come to fruition- she was still weary

Weary of everyone. Strangers walking by. Friends of yours from work or hobbies. Even your own family.

She’d glare at them like they were the scum of the earth

She loved you too much to let you get hurt

“Love…could we talk?”

The two of you had been cuddling on the couch, your head nestled against her chest as she idly smoked. It shocked you how used you got to the smell of cigarettes, in fact- you weirdly found it comforting. Your eyes blinked open as her mellow voice hit your eyes, your attention turned to your girlfriend.

Andrea was looking elsewhere, smoke wafting from the cancer stick she found oh-so comforting. You snuggled closer to her, nodding.

“Of course,” you loved her voice. It was so soothing, “What’d you want to talk about?”

Andrea paused before she sighed, “You know I love you? Right?”

Faintly, her voice cracked, almost like that question was too difficult to muster. You responded by wrapping your arms around her waist, nuzzling your cheek against her chest and sighing with content.

“Of course I do,” you replied so matter-of-factly, “With all my heart.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw her lips upturn into a small smile. Andrea leaned down, kissing the top of your head. Her black hair cascaded down and tickled your face, making you smile wider.

“And you’ve got a big heart doll,” her hand rested on your back, rubbing gentle circles against it. She then, with a somber tone, murmured, “…that’s what worries me, ya know?”

You perked up, opening your mouth to speak- but Andrea continued.

“You’re so sweet, so gentle, so…naive.” She looked away from you as her green eyes darkened with scorn, “Pricks of this dumpster fire of a world chew that up til it’s nothing but a husk they can’t have fun with anymore.”

“Andy..” you lifted your head from her chest, Andrea’s hand that had resided on your back cupping your cheek.

“I want you to know Y/N,” her eyes bore holes into your own, “I won’t ever let that happen.”

What would be considered such a comforting conversation, this had deeper undertones. There was a malice in Andrea’s voice that made you flinch. The way she held your face, it wasn’t comforting- no- this was possessive.

Possessive is a good way to describe Andrea

From small things to holding your hand in public

To putting her cigarettes out on your neck as a means of “marking” you

You’ve grown tolerant of the pain, even starting to like it

It’s almost like a kiss- a very twisted and morbid kiss

You used to scoff at Andrea’s concerns, chalking it up to paranoia

Keyword: used to

You held the pillow close to your person, breathing shakily with a panicked look in your one open eye. The other was swollen shut with a purplish red bruise. You had been on your way home when some assailant attempted to steal your stuff. You gave them more of a fight than anticipated, only getting away with 20 bucks from your wallet. Though, you didn’t get home unscathed.

The moment Andrea had seen that black eye, she was doting on you- asking several questions as she treated your bruise. Thankfully you hadn’t been stabbed or worse, but the experience still shook you up. Once you had calmed down, Andrea asked more questions about your mugger. What they looked like, where this happened, when did this happen- basic questions. After relaying the information, she said she would be back and left. You presumed to give this information to the police or- someone who could help….but it was getting late and you were worrying.

You missed her warm embrace. The smell of cigarettes that clung to her thick black sweater. Her comforting voice. Her beautiful green eyes. You wanted her to be with you so badly it ate you from the inside.

The sound of the door opening was like a starting gun to you, your body immediately flinging itself off of the couch and running to hug whoever came through that door. You practically sobbed as the smoke hit your nostrils and the warm sweater nestled against your cheek. Andrea slunk down to the ground, holding you as you sobbed. In your desperate state to feel the comfort she provided you with….you failed to notice the blood on her hands.

“It’s okay love…” she spoke in a hushed tone, “I’ve got you…..”

“No one will hurt you again.”

[reorientation]

I'm ftm and I've been on HRT for 5 years, had top surgery and I generally pass really well. My passport says I'm male, too. But until very recently, I never even saw a real cock in person, despite being a fairly horny person - I've only had sex with two people, both afab and transmasc as well. Ironically, I was the dom-ish one in both of these relationships, too.

But... I kept spending a lot of time online browsing through humiliation and misgendering porn. Reddit, tumblr, all that stuff. I kept fantasizing about being used like that. The rougher the better. I've got so many fantasies about it.

It took me a long time to finally install grindr. First, I chickened out and uninstalled it. And then installed again. Uninstalled. Installed.

And one night, around midnight, I started writing with someone. He lived 5 minutes from me. Told me I could come for a quick discreet fuck, just that, like I'm a fleshlight. And... I did. I went out, came to his house, got bent over and for maybe 8 minutes, he fucked my pussy, groped my ass and made me feel like a toy.

I loved it.

I didn't even get to cum, obviously. He didn't even ask for my name until afterwards. And then I told him to hit me up if he ever needs to unload again. It was my first cock ever, first one I've seen and first one I've let inside my most private parts, and the first cock even saw me as a fleshlight because that's how I advertised myself.

I kept grindr on my phone after that. I'm not using it too much, but it's there, waiting for me. And I did have a few more encounters after this one. I guess it awoken the slut inside me...

While this first guy used a condom, I was quick to find a second one. And I was so horny that I let him cum inside me (he even took some pics). I'm not on any contraception apart from T, which isn't contraception, and I'm scared like hell of getting pregnant. So afterwards, I had an awkward pharmacy talk, because I came in and said 'I need emergency contraception', they asked if it's for me, they stared at me and said 'it's for females'. I didn't sleep at all this night (because he was too busy with my body...) and I stood there like a dumb bitch for a few seconds while the guy (he came with me) said 'he's female' and that unlocked something in my brain and I said I'm trans.

Today, I might get fucked raw by another guy again. I had enough brains to get on birth control after that awkward pharmacy talk but apparently not enough brains to stop offering my cunt to strangers...

Oh also it's the ftm who just send you a long ask about fucking people from grindr and having an awkward pharmacy talk and possibly fucking another stranger tonight, I thought I should add some kind of name so you know who I am so uhmmm I guess my deadname would be a good fit and knowing you know it along with the fact that I'm offering my pussy to strangers will be kinda hot. So hi, I'm Alice uhh, and nobody used this name for me in years...

🎵One pill makes you larger and one pill makes you small 🎵

Except for you, Alice, I suppose it's "keeps you small" - without that little pill, you might already be swelling. 🖤

Sometimes things happen very fast, don't they? You hadn't even seen a cock in real life, for all those years, and then just a few days after you sent your first Grindr message, you were out in public listening to the man who'd just fucked his cum into you tell a stranger that you're female.

How did it feel to have them looking at you, Alice? To feel their eyes on you and realize that they knew you had a fresh load of cum inside your pussy. To realize that after all your efforts to pass, you still ended up having to admit that you have a fertile womb, and that a real man had put his seed into it.

It felt good, didn't it? Being a cumdump, and having them know it. Being humiliated in public because you'd been so desperate to give your pussy to a stranger. Having them see right through your identity to the needy little cunt underneath.

But maybe they're not seeing through anything. You've been dreaming of "misgendering" and letting men use you as a fleshlight without even asking your name. Maybe this is your new identity - not a man, just a needy little cunt.

[thexmistress]

The Dilemma

Sukuna x Reader

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮Warnings:: Angst of course, slight mention of sex, manipulation, toxic relationship, spineless reader, etc etc :p 🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

That feeling you get when you try your hardest to reach out but your efforts go in vain. That feeling you get that rises up from the bottom of your stomach….. traveling up your chest… then to your heart where it festers…. The pain is so unbearable but for some reason you find comfort in it…. It gives you reassurance that you still have some fight in you… still have hope that you can keep the remnants of your relationship from deteriorating. You started off strong at first, you truly did, but now it just feels like you’re in the middle of ocean trying to keep afloat on a wooden plank. You felt useless and overwhelmed.

Looking down at your phone you see that all 6 of your messages were read by Sukuna earlier this morning. Your last message being a ‘Good Morning ❤️’ accompanied by a ‘Read 7:34am’. You knew this was bound to happen sooner or later. You should’ve known this was coming and prevented it but you kept opening your mouth and kept fucking things up. Chuckling to yourself as you put your phone down and continued to paint on your canvas but that feeling again was starting to creep up to your chest, and before you knew it, your eyes began to water while you struggle to keep your hand straight. Who knew drawing a line could be so hard? You try to focus on the painting but your mind keeps going back to the last conversation you guys had 2 days ago.

🝮🝮🝮🝮

“I just think it’s weird how she’s always calling you….. like I understand you guys are friends but really baby? It’s literally 12am… I think that’s a bit much…” you peeped at the clock on the nightstand and noted the time was actually ‘12:40am’. Your voice that once held passion and certainty came out timid, scared that if you said something wrong it would upset him, but even then your efforts go in vain as you see your lover roll his eyes at you and sigh heavily as he began to rub his face with hands exasperatedly.

It’s that feeling again. You feel it bubbling in your stomach as you instantly regret what you just said but it was already too late the moment he opened his mouth and began to invalidate how you feel like usual. It was always the usual to you so much to the point where you started to second guess your own feelings. Your gaze that was on the floor flickered back up to him catching a quick glance at his eyes but the moment you seen the annoyance that flooded his eyes you quickly look away not being able to handle the way it made that feeling in your stomach skyrocket to your chest. “Are you really starting this bullshit again? Really Y/N?”

His questioning lingered in the air for a few seconds until he felt even more annoyed by your silence. “Well you brought it up right? Why you not saying anything? Look at me when I’m talking to you like a normal fucking adult!” The tone of his voice made you snap your eyes up, holding back tears but the stinging feeling it was causing in your eyes wasn’t helping. “Why are you crying? Why-“, stopping mid sentence he pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers and sighed, “Listen. I’m not going to explain this again. Mei is just a friend. I don’t see you making this a big deal when Yuji or one of the bros call me around this time. Mei is a bro. A. Friend.”

🝮🝮🝮🝮

That’s right. Just a friend. Okay maybe you are toxic….. you make a mental note to not bring that up again but you’re starting to feel it. Starting to feel tired of everything. The no text backs unless he feels like it, how he’s so quiet on the phone and you’re always carrying the conversation, the ‘parallel play’ that you’ve become accustomed to and the fact you didn’t even know it was a thing until you were on Reddit asking strangers were you wrong for wanting to spend time with your boyfriend alone instead of always sharing him with his bros. You will always remember that day but only because of how much his words shattered you.

🝮🝮🝮🝮

“Bro what the fuck! Kill him!” Sukuna was yelling at his monitor fully engaged in the game with his headset on both ears but the volume was still loud that you can hear the giggles of his friends through them. It was the typical people in the PlayStation party; Satoru, Yuji, Suguru, and Utahime. You peeked at him but returned your attention back to your kdrama you were watching on your phone (had to get romance from somewhere right?). You couldn’t help but to start to feel annoyed and a bit angry at the fact that you were supposed to be over his house to spend time with him since he was off from work today. You usually wouldn’t mind this but lately that’s all you guys have been doing and it’s starting to bother you. Come over his house, sit on his bed while he plays the game then fuck.. How Romantic.

Before you went home you spoke about how you felt and how it feels like you were getting the bare minimum since you were the main one who would suggest hanging out or making plans, the main one calling first, the main one trying to make conversation because if you don’t speak he’s more than likely not going to start a conversation…. It’s like you’re just here. You were nervous and felt like you just committed blasphemy for even letting that slip out your lips and apparently he thought the same to because he gave you a look as if you just stabbed him in the chest and you can’t really remember all the things he said but what will forever stick to you was when he said,

“why are you measuring my love with ‘effort’? If you love me and I do give you the bare minimum that should be enough.”

🝮🝮🝮🝮

You didn’t even noticed you stopped painting until you started to sniff realizing that you were crying. You put down your paintbrush and wiped your tears and nose as you picked up your phone to see no notifications from Sukuna as expected but you couldn’t help but to feel a little hope that he would text you. It’s been 2 days since you’ve heard from him and you’re trying really hard not to come off as clingy so you’ve been sticking to texting him and not holding it against him because like he always says he’s a bad texter.

You go on instagram to see that he posted yet another story and you can’t help but to start another turmoil within yourself…..

‘Am I truly asking for too much?’

‘Am I too invested?’

‘Is it too much to ask for a clingy, emotional available boyfriend?’

You sighed as took a picture of the almost finished portrait of Sukuna and posted it on your instagram story before sending it him with a text that follows ‘Almost done! 😊’. You were about to put your phone down until you felt a vibration causing you to look back down at the screen to see him reply ‘❤️’. Suddenly you felt lighter and that nagging feeling went away causing you to feel nothing but relief.

See, he still loves me.

[0aurelion-sol0]

What do you want or expect Will's arc to be?

Well, again I'm sorry but this is something I cannot go over too extensively as I will talk about it in future posts at some point but regardless I will try to give an answer to your ask.

I am going to elaborate on what I think The Duffers will do first and what I want/think should happen after that.

We know from that Variety article that released back in August 2023 that Will is going to take center stage again in season 5 and that I quote “This emotional arc for him is what we feel is going to hopefully tie the whole series together. Will is used to being the young one, the introverted one, the one that’s being protected. So part of his journey, it’s not just sexuality — it’s Will coming into his own as a young man.” says Ross Duffer.

Now what I think is important to take from that quote and that part of the article is the part where they say that they hope his emotional arc is what is going to tie the whole story together which means they value, in some way, that Will's story as a whole, not just his sexuality, is going to be what gives the conclusion to the story of Stranger Things. They did not say [one of the things], they said [the thing] *wink wink*. Now between what The Duffers say and what they actually do, there is a gap but I do think that is a bold statement when you're about to enter your final season.

Because sure, I do think Will is more important than the series has led us to think but at it's core, it remains an ensemble type of show and is what was really happening during Season 1 & Season 2. Yes, there are stronger characters driving the story (and become way too present over others as the story progresses) & was first sold as the Winona Ryder show and after that the El show but it remained at it's core an ensemble show.

So for the Duffers to use Will, the character with the most inconsistent spotlight of the entire show apart from his brother, as the thing that ties the whole series together, that is bold cause as I said theories and biases aside, this is going to be a challenge and it is still a show that relies heavily on it's cast & characters to tell it's story. Now the way they do it and how well they do it is definitely up for debate but still.

There are for me, 4 main important parts of Will's character that are essential to his arc and for it to conclude well.

His homosexuality, what happened to him on November 6th, 1983, his connection to the Upside Down and his past.

Out of the 4 that I see The Duffers be very focused on for this final season, it's the two that are connected, his disappearance & his spider-sense because they have become very plot-focused as the series went on; they are going to have to explore his homosexuality, I don't see them doing something surprising or extremely developped with it anymore but they have kept that around and they are probably going to give a conclusion to it that's going to benefit the first two.

His past isn't going to be that explored much apart things linked to the first two and homosexuality but even then probably more in terms of vague mentions than anything really concrete. And it's because The Duffers, unless they pull something magnificent, have as of now and after everything they showed for the past two seasons have other priorities for want they want to explore which I don't think is the best choice for again, an ensemble show but it is what it is, and we need to be prepared for it.

I AM EAGER to be proven absolutely wrong but so far nothing has changed my mind about it, nothing has really alarmed me either which there's that at least.

So now what I want or think should happen...

About his homosexuality, his gayness, his rainbow-colored-emotional-state, his reddit is always scared of this debate, it's been there forever, it's obvious, I think if you're still in doubt about it, you need to go take a media literacy class, that boy is gay, that boy loves Mike Wheeler, let's end the debate. I'm sick of this fandom always turning endlessly on this subject, let's move on.

Now what do with it now, well the coming out, it's on everybody's lips these days, obviously, it's going to go to Joyce, Jonathan and the Party (mostly Mike, Dustin and Lucas). We are not going to talk about Byler, that's not the subject of today's post. I think overall, I don't see, for me, anything about Will's relationship with his sexuality that stops him from being out, at least to his close ones if not the world. The events that he went through outside and because of it, already ostracizes him from everyone else, including the ones he loves, that is just a fact and I think Will knows this & I don't think it's him being gay that is problematic for him, it's his very strong feelings for Mike that will probably be understood now by everyone and that will change the "nature" of them now but also acknowledging the lost innocence and naivity he experienced very very young even before the Upside Down stuff.

Because when Will comes out, it is not just him being gay that will come out, it's everything he went through because of it & he's going to start, in a way, healing from all it & that is sometimes just as tough as going through the trauma. And in a way, he kinda already started that process back in Season 4 so I think it would make sense for him to continue that path. It's going to be emotional, it would make sense and needs to be that way but to me the coming out definitely needs to be Joyce, Jonathan and as I said, Mike, Dustin & Lucas.

And I would like to be very clear, though I don't think it will be that much because ST & The Duffers have lost that touch for me, but I would like it to be very clear for him & the others and us, that he is gay, he likes boys and doesn't like girls, don't have to say it that direct but in a similar way because that's what a lot of queer people have to go through I think & it's actually verbalizing the fact that they are queer. Because we are going to have too much dumbasses still telling us he is not & it's important again for the representation be properly done in a satisfying way.

Next, his past, I think it would be essential to explore Will's trauma again because of his sexuality but also other elements of his character like the love he has for the arts, D&D, relationship he has with Lonnie & also violence because that is also important but I'll discuss that in another post. Because it would help us understand more about he & The Byers function as a whole but give us more depth & element to feel a satisfying conclusion to characters that have been left on the bench for quite some time now because if you talk about Will's past and issues, you will need to talk about Joyce's and Jonathan's past & issues and all the abuse they went through, which has become quite an important element to the plot now that hasn't been that well developed for all the characters and it would be nice if it starts being well developed.

Plus it leads to one of the reasons why he was taken AND not killed in 1983 which leads us to what is his connection to the UD now... and before. 👀

Because if the emotional arc of Will is important to tie the whole series together, it's important for the supernatural arc too & that opens interesting threads that I can't get into this post now.

After that, I think the climate of Season 5 needs to show us a more hardened Will, one that'll force Will to get his hands dirty to survive and to protect the group as well, while also fighting against things from his past that may be quite important for him with how he perceives and react to violence or danger. I would like to see a Will that's not always and has wants & needs that don't align for everyone & goes against the bigger geopolitical groups that are fighting including the supernatural ones. OH YES! I am going there!

Him being a villain would not make sense and would be a no no for me, but sometimes falling on the grey sides of things would make sense and would be so enjoyable for me. Especially against the threat that's looming on everyone in Season 5.

Also possibly drawing a parallel to what he experienced in 1983, because he survived in some way and we're going to need to explore that in the present. Will might likely be the most useful person to have in a UD infested environment. And him realising that he is useful is going to force him to go back to what happened and why that happened to help the best way he can, because if there's anything that boy knows how to do better than anyone else on this, it's self-sabotaging for the greater good.

Again, it's a snowball effect, if you do one thing you're going to have to do and explore another, to me, they are linked. Are the Duffers going to do that ? I'm unsure. But that's what makes sense to me.

So here's your answer, sorry if it's a bit vague but I will be exploring this in many different posts in the future.

[lbulldesigns]

r/relationships

How do I convince my 20-year-old son that I'm serious about kicking him out if he doesn't agree to therapy?

25th of May, 2021

I know that the title sounds bad but please bear with me, this is my first time using Reddit.

I (43 M) am the proud, single father to four children. V (23 F), P (18 F), and twins M and C (20 M). V, C, and M are my bio children (from different mothers) and P is my adoptive daughter and V's bio sister (same mother).

The girl's mother and I had an ugly break-up because I was dumb and panicked when I found out I was going to be a father for the first time with V, at the time I refused to take responsibility and ended up breaking my then girlfriend's heart. Because I never took responsibility, I never accepted my parental rights when my eldest V was born. I paid Child support but that was about it, and then a year and a half into my idiocy I got into a pretty bad accident and was declared dead for two minutes. Doctors at the time were able to resuscitate me and using a series of experimental drugs was able to save my life, however, I now need to live the rest of my life as a shifter (wolf).

This was something I struggled to accept for some time but eventually, I came to accept my new way of life and condition. I spent a year going through intense therapy and seminars, and through this time I had two major revelations. 1) I had failed spectacularly as a man and father, and 2) I didn't want to ever die with regret again.

The first thing I did when getting through my therapy was reach out to my ex and establish contact with my daughter, I was FINALLY ready to take responsibility but was too late. My ex had found someone new, someone who wasn't afraid to step up and do what I wasn't willing to do. He took responsibility for my daughter, and she was calling him Daddy instead of me. I won't lie this hurt but I swallowed my pride and accepted that it was no one's fault but my own.

My ex wasn't willing to disrupt V's worldview just to cater to my change of mind, which I accepted, but she was willing to slowly integrate me into her life on the condition that we didn't reveal anything until our daughter was old enough to understand. Which I agreed to.

Her husband was a good man and wanted to make this situation work for everyone, there was a bit of awkwardness when V would run up to him for hugs and look at me as a stranger (which I was) but he never rubbed it in my face or ever got antagonistic with me. I had, and still have, a great deal of respect for the man and I will forever be grateful to him for doing what I was too bullheaded to do.

Half a year after I became a father to my twin boys, a one-night stand who never informed me of the pregnancy and just left the two on my business's doorstep. Two years after that, my ex gave birth to P and I was named her and V's Godfather after my ex witnessed how quick I was to take responsibility for the boys after getting a paternity test done and it coming back positive.

And then five years after, my ex and her husband were shot dead by two trigger-happy Enforcers and they, in an attempt to cover their tracks, buried the girls in the foster system it took a year to find them both. They had been separated at some point and it was a miracle that I found either let alone both of them. After I found them, I made quick work to adopt both of them and go from a single father of two to a single father of four.

It was rough, I'm not gonna lie, V was angry at the world, P was scared of the world, and my boys were confused but C managed to adjust quickly and whilst M took to V he had an instant dislike for P.

I had explained to the boys that V was their bio sister, this secret came out to V when she was found by a friend of mine and as a result, was angry and confused about everything. M accepted this but kept asking why we were taking P if she wasn't family, which I quickly corrected that she was family.

My condition seemed to be a huge concern for P's therapist, who tried to convince P that I was untrustworthy and abusive. P told me what her therapist said and the woman was investigated and proven to be biased towards anyone who wasn't 100% human.

I tried to get P back into therapy but nothing ever worked out, she had a strong distrust for them and was also influenced by V who was adamant about not going to therapy. I know I should have continued their therapy but they seemed okay on their own after a while, both girls would open up to me about their problems and V was able to find an outlet for her anger through boxing, which I taught until she was old enough to join a team around her age group.

P in turn took up learning gymnastics and even won a few competitions, she also took up art and was a natural science whizz.

I apologize for the long story but wanted to give some insight into my family. Whilst we were able to find some stable ground, there have been some issues outside of the initial teething stage. The first obstacle was the girl's maternal uncle (42 M), he had been an old friend of mine since childhood. His sister was my ex and after I abandoned my responsibilities to his sister and niece, we lost touch. He and his sister had a falling out, I don't know the specifics, and he was never contacted when his sister died. When he found out I had both girls he wanted custody of them, but because my name was on V's birth certificate and P was attached to V, the court saw fit to grant custody to me with visitation rights granted to Sil (maternal uncle).

The second obstacle we had was my son M. As I mentioned he took an instant dislike to P, and despite my hopes that deep down he cared for her, never warmed up to her presence in our lives.

He would constantly make her cry with his insults, and he for a time would hide her school projects from her (which stopped after the fifth time when I confiscated his game console and laptop).

I tried for a long time to get him to bond with P and explain to him that his behavior was harmful, I spoke with his school counselor to get him some unbiased opinions on his behavior, and when I would bring up therapy he would retort that if I wasn't making the girls go to therapy then I shouldn't be making him go. None of my tactics seemed to work and the more I admonished him the meaner he would be towards my youngest. After some time I decided to reward him if he didn't bully his sister, which seemed to work for a while, but now I am wondering if I didn't just make him more subtle about his bullying.

About a week ago I was in my kitchen preparing dinner when I heard a loud banshee-like scream and a loud thump. I went running into my entryway where I found P on top of M hitting him again and again shouting that she hated him. I was taken by surprise by this and pulled P off of M, it was surprisingly difficult to do so because she was determined to pummel him. I'm not proud of this but I ended up taking her by the shoulders and growling at her to calm down, which she did but she looked scared and I saw that she was ready to either fight or run, I started to tell her to get out of the house for a bit and go stay at her friends to cool off but all I got out was "Get out" before she bolted from the house. I shouted after her to go to her friend's house but she was already gone.

After checking up on M and taking him to the hospital (he was fine, just some bruising and blood) I interrogated him about what happened after he blew up at me for always "going easy" on P, and he said that P was crying so he called her a crybaby. This felt extreme on her part but I knew that there was something else at play and decided to ask her the next day when I saw her. I said that P shouldn't have attacked him but asked M why he insulted her rather than ask if she was okay, and he just said "She's always crying. I can't walk past her room without hearing her cry. She is a crybaby" I felt disturbed and still feel disturbed and disappointed by his lack of empathy.

At this point, I felt something had to give and I gave him an ultimatum. Therapy or leave the house.

I know I shouldn't have given an ultimatum but P is 18 and struggling with a few personal things (I won't elaborate) and her unemployed 20-year-old brother constantly being on her back wasn't helping.

I'll try to dot point everything that happened afterwards because this is getting really long:

I went to see P the next day and found out she never went to her friend's (ex-friends?) house. I should have called and made sure she was there but she always goes to his house when upset so I just assumed she was there. No words can describe how shameful I feel for not checking.

We went to the Enforcers but they "couldn't help".

We discovered that P had at some point snuck back into the house grabbed some of her belongings and left a note saying she was leaving, and her being 18 means that we can't make a missing persons report because she's left voluntarily.

M refuses to speak to me because he feels betrayed by my ultimatium, which I'm still holding up.

I've felt like absolute dirt for the past week, and am absolutely wrecked with guilt over P.

A few hours ago my son C showed me a post from r/offmychest where M was talking about how he hopes P never comes back home, and is talking about going NC with me.

I know that he isn't taking me seriously with the ultimatium. I know I probably shouldn't still be holding true to said ultimatium but something needs to give.

He is 20, he can't keep going through life with this lack of empathy.

I plan on talking to him soon.

What can I say or do to make him see that I am serious?

And how can I do it in a way that won't tear my family apart even more than it already is?

[hussyknee]

Posted to Reddit midnight last night at 1am:

3am: Facebook post on local help page.

(amount in LKR. I am very poor and unemployed and live with my mother, who is Satan.)

OIC = Officer In Charge

Bindu = Family doggo. Usually a gentle lad who's all bark, but an entire brigade of strange burly men in gear chasing him (as he felt) all the way to his safe spot was too much.

Passa pattha = backside

Mau didn't come when I fed the kits their breakfast before I crashed, and was still nowhere to be seen when I woke up at 1pm in time for their lunch. Had to hobble around the street calling his name for ten minutes before he came barrelling from god knows where, muddy and filthy. Had to wash and scrub him thoroughly. He's always 80% nerves and hyperactivity, but he's really dialed up today so I ended up getting scratched all over.

I discovered I may have been unfair to him. He's absolutely an overdramatic ninny, but I noticed his nails were quite long. He has six scratch baskets and escapes outside more than the other two but all that's done is give him needle claws apparently. He probably couldn't get as good a purchase on the slippery roof sheets as his brother and sister. My poor baby. They're all completely fine though.

I am not. I feel like my arms and legs are about to fall off. I wish they would. My knees are throbbing like they're arthritic again.

Heading off questions:

Why didn't you call the fire brigade in the first place? Because I've been confined by disability and abused by various people my entire adult life and the only people who have ever helped me with my rescues have been kind strangers. Also the emergency helplines in this country are useless. I once called 119 because I thought I was having a heart attack and was told this was the police line and had to call the ambulance one separately. They then called two hours later asking if I still needed the police. The fire brigade was the most positive interaction I've yet had with a state service, and even they usually only respond to pet rescues when it looks like the animal's life is in danger.

How are you poor when you have a three storey house with a maid and driver? My mother has a three storey house with a maid and driver, on account of having made good money for 45 years. We're poor because she saved none of it for retirement. This is South Asia, middle class poverty is when you don't know if you can pay the electric before it's cut off but still have a maid there's always someone poorer than you who needs to eat. It's all very Little Women. The three storey house is a white elephant financial hole that isn't a South Asian thing but a "my mother is a deranged spendthrift" thing. I live in a gothic novel.

Why don't you keep your cats inside? Because we live in a house that's half verandahs and balconies in the tropics and we can't keep it shut on all sides without killing everyone inside it. And, like I said, nobody will lift a finger to help and trying to make any modifications makes my mother scream like a demon from the depths of Gehenna. Of the four other adults in this house, the only one I could get to help me with Mau was the old driver.

How did you get up to look over the wall before the driver brought the ladder up? I got on a chair and climbed onto a ledge off the side, rising on my tip toes and clinging to the wall for dear life. While trying to wrangle a broom on a line and calling and coaxing. For hours. I have balance issues and can barely change a light bulb without help. Was too exhausted to be scared around hour three.

You're being kind of mean to Mau. You'd be terrified too. Yes, but I am not a cat. A cat being scared of heights feels a bit like letting your species down on an existential level. Also I never so much as wanted to yell at the little fucker, sang him lullabies until the firemen arrived, and spent a total of eight hours on my feet until they got him down. I'm still not mad at any of them even when I rue the day some liar told me cats were easier than dogs.

Anyway, all's well in Mau-land.

For now.

[upsidedownlurker]

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

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

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

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

“Seriously, Mom?” 

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

“But it’s naturally curly.”

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

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“No!” 

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

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

“Ted!”

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

Karen continued. “Ted!” 

“What? My damn chicken, Karen–”

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

“Just no!”

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

“They are not greasy chicken fingers, Michael.”

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

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

“Better?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“See what happens?” Ted grumbled. 

“What happens when what?” 

“When you deprive a man of his chicken.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Which makes no sense.”

“Yes it obviously does!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will crouched next to him. “You okay?”

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

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

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

“I don’t know,” Will continued.

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

“Mhm.”

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

“Yeah.”

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

“Well, you’ve gotta marry El first.”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

Those who had truly found the love of their lives.

Those with very poor decision-making abilities. 

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

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

Finally, they shut up. 

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

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

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

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

He froze. 

What was he supposed to say? 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Eleven leaned forward. 

Mike leaned back. 

Eleven leaned forward. 

Mike leaned back. 

Eleven leaned forward. 

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

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

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

“Mm, no.” He said. 

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

Eleven pushed Mike away and walked nonchalantly off the altar.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The three walked away together. 

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

What the actual fuck?

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

-

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

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

“Lonnie? Lonnie Byers?”

Lonnie chuckled. “The one and only.”

“What are you doing at the buffet?”

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

“Fried chicken?” Ted interrupted. 

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

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

“Why not both?” Lonnie winked. 

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

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

“The one and only.”

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

Ted Wheeler smirked. 

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“PLEASE. I’LL TAKE ANYTHING.”

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

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

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

“Mhm.”

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

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

“How– how–? ” 

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

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

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

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

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

Murray cackled. 

-

“Will, let me go!”

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

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

“And I’m saying no!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She twitched her hand, and the straightener nodded.

“Mm. You remember Michael, my son?”

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

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

“A real shame,” said the straightener.

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

“Fruity indeed.” 

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

“Karen, I’d be honoured.” 

“Perfect, time to–”

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

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

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

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

“Oh, we will,” said the straightener. 

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now the others looked confused.

“We didn’t say that,” added Nancy. 

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

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

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

“No, I don’t know.”

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

“I don’t know.”

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

Dead. 

Silence. 

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

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

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

“Shit, shit, shit…”

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

“It sounded like Dustin.”

“Huh. You think something’s wrong?”

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

“Cool.”

-

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

“Hey, that’s pretty good.”

El grinned. “Right?”

“I’m never drinking straight whiskey again.”

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

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

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

“You still like whiskey, right, Lucas?”

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

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

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

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

-

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

“Definitely,” she replied. 

“Cool.”

-

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

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

“My fucking car–” said Lonnie.

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

“Like fucking magic– said Lonnie.

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

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

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

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

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

“He never has to know,” replied Lonnie. 

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Enough?”

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

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

“With…”

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

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

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

“You mean that?”

“I really do.”

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

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

“TOGETHER!” The two men yelled. 

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

-

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

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

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

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

“They said it together !”

“I bet they’re together–”

“Are they together?”

“What, like, togethe-together?”

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

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

“Gladly.”

Mike snorted. “Fuck off.”

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

-

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

“Tell me,” said Ted.

“Do you wanna run away together?”

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

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

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

“And kill them ruthlessly with no remorse–”

“Then slather them in grease and breadcrumbs–”

“And eleven secret herbs and spices.”

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

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

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

Lonnie cackled. “My man!”

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

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

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

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

Ah, shit. It was his gay, gay son. 

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

Ah, shit. It was his gay, gay son.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like a couple.”

“A COUPLE OF GAYS????!??!?!?!?!?”

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

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

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

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

“What about you boys?”

Mike and Will’s eyes widened, “What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep,” Mike replied.

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

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

“No, just a disappointment like you.”

“But you and Lonnie?”

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

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

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

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

“Good, I was lying.”

“Thank fuck.”

Suddenly, Lonnie woke up. 

“Hey, Willy.”

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

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

“No, Dad, I’m gay.”

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

“No Dad, gay as in gay.”

“Not even a little bit straight?”

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

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

“Um. Yes. I am also a homosexual.”

“Okay. Right.”

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

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

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

“Nope,” said Will, smiling serenely.

“Ah, fuck ‘em.”

“Yeah, they can burn in hell.”

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

-

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

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

If he was Liz, where would he be?

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

Of course!

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

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

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

“What can I getcha?” said the bartender. 

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

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

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

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

“Murraying? What is that?”

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

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

“What?” 

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

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

“You tell me, Toddfather.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

That was the Liz he knew and loved. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah?”

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

“Yes, a million times yes!”

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

“Of course Todd, that’s–”

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

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

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

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

The screaming was pretty annoying, though. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shiiit. 

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Joyce turned around, her lovely, wavy hair spinning with her, a polite expression on her lovely face. “Oh, Karen! It’s been a while. How are you?”

“Joyce Byers,” Karen repeated. Then she laughed, a long laugh, a laugh so long it was starting to make Joyce and Hopper visibly uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?” Classic Joyce, ever so lovely, ever so caring.

“Joyce Byers, I want you to be my wife.”

Joyce’s eyes grew wide, then softened as a quaint, queer expression quirked across her face. “Oh… I’m sorry Karen, I can’t.”

Karen’s stomach dropped to the floor, and she started hyperventilating. “But– but you’re a godless homosexual, like me! I’m your only hope for happiness!”

“No, Karen. I’m not a godless homosexual– I’m a godless bisexual , and I’m with Hop now. I’ve already found happiness with my beautiful bisexual hubby-wubby. You should’ve asked me a decade ago. I’m sorry, I really am.”

Karen’s eyes flashed red with murderous intent. A smile crept across her face, disguising her rage and torment behind bleached-white, perfect teeth. “Oh, that’s okay. Hey, what’s that over there?”

“What’s what?” Joyce said, as she and Hopper’s gaze followed where Karen’s finger was pointed. 

Karen immediately grabbed Joyce by the back of the head at lightning speed, pulled her hair down and straightened it in a flash. 

“Holy shit! My hair!” Joyce shrieked, “Karen, what the fuck? WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK, KAREN??? KAREN?!?!??!?!!?”

But Karen didn’t reply. Her rage, torment and fractured hope had been brewing into a toxic mixture inside her for some time now, and now it was bubbling up– in the form of laughter. 

“AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!” Karen cackled with glee, “GET STRAIGHTENED, BITCH!”

“Get my ex-husband’s name out your fucking mouth!” Joyce bellowed in reply. Then she slapped Karen in the face, knocking her to the ground. Karen was soon scampering off into the crowd of clueless wedding patrons. 

“Hop!” Joyce elbowed him lightly in the ribs, “Why didn’t you do anything?”

Hopper turned around to face his wife, eyebrows furrowed. “I couldn’t see what Karen was pointing at… Wait, did you do something different with your hair?”

Joyce sighed, just happy Karen had left. “Nothing much, Hop.”

Then Joyce and Hopper kissed, hehehehehe. Kissy-kissy. Mwah. Mmmmmmmmm. Kiss. KISS. KISSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. 

Karen was about to run outside and cry, until she spied Dustin’s mother by herself, picking up what was left from the buffet table. She speedwalked towards her, only one mission on her mind– but she was too slow. 

Dustin’s mother screamed, ran towards her son (who was still being patted on the back by Lucas, Max and El) and hid behind him, shivering. “Never again,” she whispered, memories of click-clacking hair straighteners echoing in her mind.

“Goddammnit!” Karen yelled, click-clacking her hair straightener in fury. She then scampered outside on all-fours, leaving a room full of weary wedding patrons in her wake. They all seemed to make the decision together; this whole wedding was the most confusing mess they’d ever attended, and they wanted to witness every last bit of this horrific trainwreck. 

So, they followed. Every last patron. Including a certain undead curly-haired bastard, who hadn’t been invited. 

Karen sat on the steps of the venue, sighing wistfully every ten seconds. A few metres away, the wedding officiant was wrapped in a blanket and snogging some guy in a beige suit. Just ahead of her, Karen’s clearly gay son was making out with Joyce’s clearly gay son next to The Fiery Wormhole, in which her now ex-husband was finally burning into a crisp along with his sweet, lovable friend Lonnie. 

Everyone had someone, it seemed. Everyone except Karen. 

Karen flashed back to the time she had been the most happy. At the pool, with the gals, trying to impress the lifeguards. One in particular. She never did get to go on that date…

Karen sighed for the forty-second time in seven minutes. She really did miss him. “Golly gee, H.S.” she lamented. “Where’s an eighteen-year-old lifeguard with a mullet when you need him?”

“RIGHT HERE MRS. WHEELER!” said Billy, rising from the ground, covered in dirt, with half the flesh on his face melted off and chunks of his torso missing. Eek!!! So dreamy and cute!!! 

“Actually, I’m not Mrs. Wheeler anymore. I’m just Karen now,” she corrects. “Karen Creel.” 

Billy laughed as a centipede crawled out of his mouth and into his missing eye. “Woah, like that crazy murder family? That’s hot, Mrs. Creeler.” 

“Totally,” she said, standing up. Karen ripped her dress off to reveal a blue and pink bathing suit. “You know, I never stopped wearing it, Billy… not for–” 

“353 days?” said Billy. 

Karen nodded, tears welling in her eyes. 

“I know,” he replied. “I’ve been watching you from the mind of your dead, telekinetic brother, Henry.” 

“That’s hot,” she replied. “Wanna marry me, eighteen-year-old undead lifeguard?”

“I really do, Mrs. Creely-Weely. I really, really do.”

“Ok,” said Karen, shrugging. She and Billy walked off into the sunset, holding hands. Suddenly, they were both knocked to the floor by something– or someone– who had just burst from the ground. 

“PICK ME, KAREN!” Yelled Bob Newby, holding up a sign that said, “Pick me, Joyce!”

Will finally stopped making out with Mike for long enough to whisper, “Bob?” 

Bob looked towards Will and paled. “Aw rats,” he growled. “No, I’m not Bob.” Not-Bob’s face shifted violently, and he rose from the ground further, revealing a horrific yet familiar body. 

“Vecna?” Will whispered.

“Wait, what?” Mike exclaimed, finally looking away from Will. “VECNA?”

“Yeahhhhhhh. Sorry, kid,” Not-Bob-Actually-Vecna admitted sheepishly. “Ya got me. I survived the fiery bottomless pit, and… I had to take my chances with your Mum.”

Mike nodded, just happy that Vecna had apparently stopped wanting to destroy the world, and not wanting to get into any more epic battles.

Meanwhile, Will was flabbergasted. 

“BUT HOW DID YOU SURVIVE THE FIERY BOTTOMLESS PIT? IT’S BOTTOMLESS!”

“Well…” Vecna began. But before he could continue, Karen spoke. “Billy… Not-Bob-Actually-Vecna… I have made my decision.” 

She sighed, a new record for most amount of sighing in one fanfiction. “I’ve looked at all my options and I’ve decided… My hair straightener is my one true love. She’s always been there for me, through thick and thin hair… and she’s beautiful. I’M GOING TO MARRY MY HAIR STRAIGHTENER.”

Karen walked confidently over to Todd and Liz, and ripped them apart. “HEY, LIZARD McWEDDINGOFFICIANT!”

Liz gasped, “How did you know my full, legal name?”

“I need you to pronounce us wife and wife,” she said, gesturing to her and H.S.

“Okay, fuck. Uh, Karen and hair straightener, you’re now wife and wife. Go kiss or whatever.”

Karen took Liz’s words seriously, because she and H.S. began to perform something that can only be described as a burning, passionate, kiss-adjacent war crime.

Vecna watched on, sad but intrigued by the display. Billy watched on. Smirking, he said, “That’s hot… really hot… OH GOD I’M BURNING ALIVE!!!!!!!!”  

The wedding patrons had all stepped outside by now, including Murray, who had just smashed a molotov cocktail over Billy’s head. As Billy ran around screaming, Will took the opportunity to break away from Mike and telekinetically throw Vecna into the sun. Damn, having superpowers would’ve made defeating that guy a whole lot easier. 

As Billy continued to run around, everyone began to realise that he wasn’t the only one screaming. There were multiple screams emanating from the fiery bottomless pit… and they were growing louder. 

“Will,” whispered Mike, “Doesn’t that sound like…?”

“I hope not, but I think it is…” Will muttered gravely. 

The crowd watched on as the screams grew louder, and the smell of crispy, smoky, horrifically burnt chicken emanated from the bottomless pit. 

It couldn’t be. 

A crackling, sloshing sound filled the air– a familiar sound that hadn’t been heard since the Starcourt mall fire of 1985. 

It couldn’t be.

The screaming turned to groaning, a painful, horrible groan. “CHHHHHHHHKNNNNNNNN…” the pit-monster bellowed.

It was. 

Every wedding patron in that room had been scarred by years of disaster and torment, but nothing prepared them for what they were about to see. 

Crawling out of the fiery pit of hell was none other than Ted Wheeler and Lonnie Byers. But it wasn’t just the two of them. They had formed a meaty, chickeny, amorphous blob of flesh and fire. The stench was horrific.

-

Meanwhile, on the surface of the Sun, with a pair of indestructible binoculars, Vecna giggled as he watched the whole thing with glee. He knew it was possible for a meat monster to be made without his control… but nobody else was controlling this thing, either. It was sentient; its own beautifully horrific creature. The Meat Monster 2.0.

-

“CHICKENNNNNNN…” The Meat Monster 2.0 growled, low, pained and bellowing. 

The monster quickly made its way to a discarded KFC bucket that had fallen close to the pit. It instantly scarfed down all the crumbs and bones that were once inside. 

“Yum,” said the Ted half of the monster. “Alright Lonnie, should we get going again?”

“Yep,” said the Lonnie half of the monster. “Now that little detour’s out of the way.”

“Okay,” said Will. “Okay. Alright. What the hell is going on here?” 

“Oh, hi again kid,” said the Meat Monster 2.0. “Don’t mind us, we’re gonna go ransack every KFC in the state. See ya.”

“HOLD ON.” Said Will, the last fragments of his sanity about to wither into dust. “HOW THE HELL DID YOU CLIMB OUT OF THAT THING?”

The Meat Monster 2.0 chuckled. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“NO, IT’S NOT, THAT’S WHY I’M ASKING YOU. HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET OUT OF THE BOTTOMLESS WORMHOLE?”

“Because it’s a bottomless wormhole… and we’re both bottoms.”

Will was not okay. 

“DOG FUCKINIG DAMMNNITN!!!!!! ASDJHFGAKSFG!!!!!! FUCKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!”

Meanwhile, Mike was intrigued. “Wait, does that mean Vecna’s a bottom?”

Will was too stunned to speak.

-

Billy stared at the beautifully horrific, strangely familiar creature that was standing in front of him. He was no longer screaming, despite the flames that were still sizzling over his body. The flames didn’t matter, because this thing was wayyy hotter. 

“Hey gorgeous,” he smirked, “Wanna go out?”

“Ooh,” the Meat Monster 2.0 said, “Sure thing, pretty lady.”

“I’m not a lady.”

“What? But you have long hair… Sorry pretty not-lady, we can’t go out with you.”

“What do you mean?” Billy was puzzled. “Aren’t you, y’know… a couple of meat-loving meat-men?”

“Only when it comes to chicken.”

“But aren’t you together?” Exclaimed Billy, thoroughly confused. 

Ted and Lonnie shook their horrific, meaty heads. “Ummm, we’re both straight. We’re just straight… together .”

“Hey, kid,” said Billy, looking directly towards Will, who had finally stopped screaming and started crying.

“WHATTTTTTT?” Will wailed woefully.

“Mind flinging me into the sun?”

“Fine, whatever.”

-

Will half-heartedly flung Billy into the sun, where he landed directly on top of Vecna. “Hello, handsome,” he said. 

“Uhh…” Vecna looked sheepish as he pushed Billy off his slimy body. A trail of heavy, sizzling footsteps made their way to the pair. Billy looked up, to see an oddly familiar face standing above him. 

“Sorry, sir,” the man said. “He’s taken.”

“Aw, rats. Sorry about that, Eddie,” Billy apologised. “Hey Vecna, mind flinging me back down?”

“Sure thing, Billiam. Have fun down there!”

-

Billy landed directly on top of Karen, squashing her. She immediately died. Oops.

“NO!” Billy screamed, “NOOOO!” He sobbed, hugging her flattened body. “THE ONLY REASON I CAME BACK TO LIFE WAS TO GO ON THAT DATE WITH YOU… AND NOW… IT SHALL NEVER BE! I’D RATHER DIEEEEEEE.”

So, he died, exploding flesh and centipedes everywhere. The wedding guests were covered in it. They kept watching, though, eyes glued to whatever the fuck was happening.

Billy was dead.

Then, Karen woke up. 

“Oh, hey Billy. Sorry, you killed me for a second there. I’m back though.”

She looked down. In her hand was H.S., completely smashed to pieces. Her beloved, illegally newlywed wife was dead. Splatted onto her lap were the bloody remnants of Billy’s clothes. 

For some reason, she felt the urge to reach into his pocket. 

She did, and found…

“Oh my God. A date.” Karen began to sob, tears streaming down her still-squashed face as she cupped the withered, sun-dried fruit in her withered, blood-moistened hands. “We finally did it Billy… we got our date…”

Her life was complete; there was nothing left to live for. 

Karen Creel was dead. 

A pause. 

One second. 

Two seconds. 

Three seconds. 

The gobsmacked crowd burst into a round of applause, cheering and crying. Never before had they experienced something so raw. So beautiful. So centipede-infested. A few of them had dropped dead as well, a combination of the shock and the stench proving too much for their brains to comprehend. The rest of them would be forever scarred, never able to sleep again, lest the images of burning flesh explode and cascade across their vision in a fiery orange rain of tragedy. 

“Look, Will, they’re cheering,” said Mike.

“Huh. I mean, if they’re fine with watching flesh, blood and hellfire rain from the skies and splatter them with unforgettable horrors beyond comprehension… then I guess they won’t mind if we kiss a little.”

“Yeah, it’s only logical.”

So, Mike and Will made out for a bit… until they realised that the cheers had grown oddly silent.

The bartender was the first to speak. “Wait…” he said, still shivering and blue from being locked in the freezer for four hours. “THOSE TWINKS ARE FUCKIN’ HOMOS???????”

“Ah, shit,” muttered Mike.

“THAT’S GREAT!” The bartender continued. 

“Phew,” breathed Will. 

“BECAUSE NOW,” said the bartender, “WE KNOW WHO TO BLAME FOR THIS!”

“Goddamnit”, groaned Mike.

“THIS INCREDIBLE, LIFE-CHANGING EXPERIENCE!”

“Aww,” said Will.

“AN EXPERIENCE THAT HAS BRUTALLY SCARRED THE MINDS OF EVERY PERSON IN THIS CROWD AND RUINED US FOREVER.”

“FUCKING HELL,” yelled Mike, “DO YOU ACCEPT US OR NOT?”

The bartender jumped, eyebrows raised. “I thought I made myself clear.”

Mike replied, “You absolutely didn’t.”

“Well,” continued the bartender, “I think that’s for the audience to decide for themselves.”

“WHAT AUDIENCE?!” Mike yelled. “WHAT?!”

The bartender just laughed, before announcing, “ROLL CREDITS!”

“No,” muttered Mike, “No no no no no.”

But before he could do anything else, Murray produced another molotov cocktail from his pocket and smashed it over the bartender’s head. Combined with the man’s already freezing body temperature, this created a small explosion that further covered the guests of the wedding in bits of flesh. They didn’t mind at that point.

“Good riddance,” said Murray. “Anyway, you kids are alright by me.”

Usually when Murray liked something, it was very, very concerning. But Mike and Will were touched by this; both had expected to be immediately outcast for their relationship. For one person– just one person – to accept them… it meant the world. Even if he was a strange bastard who had literally just killed a man.

Mike and Will looked to the crowd, who seemed unsure. Suddenly, Liz and Todd stood up, still hugging. Todd cleared his throat. “These two homosexual harlots may have lied to us all, but… Murray likes them. And Murray is the wonderful man who saved my relationship with Lizard McWeddingOfficiant, the woman who kicked me out of my house and destroyed my life a second time after several of the guests at this godforsaken wedding already destroyed it the first time.”

Mike sighed. “Is that good or bad?”

“I dunno”, said Todd. “This whole day has been screwed up, just like the rest of my life. So… I guess that means being gay is normal.”

“Yeah!” Said Liz enthusiastically. “They reawakened my desire for love, indirectly, through their weird, balding friend!” Then Liz and Todd started making out again. 

“Greaaat,” said Murray unenthusiastically. “Excellent points, folks. Very well done.”

The crowd, still covered in meaty, fleshy gunk, was still unsure. 

“But wait…” said one guest, “This Byers/Wheeler relationship… Byler, if you will… it’s just not realistic for this time period. I mean, I know we’re all covered in crawling centipedes and the flesh of the people we just watched die in front of our eyes, and I know we’ve just witnessed horrors beyond our comprehension, but… I dunno. Something about these gay, gay, gay boys just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Yeah,” said a few people in the crowd, tentative to express their opinions. 

“I see,” said Murray. “Who else feels this way?”

“Me,” said one person in the crowd. “I mean, Mike and Eleven have been together since they were kids! They just got married and expressed their love to each other in a beautiful way… sure, it was a little awkward, and they didn’t seem to want to kiss each other, and when I was watching them from the bushes with my binoculars, I noticed they were a lot happier when they were broken up… but that doesn’t matter. They’re Mike and Eleven! They’re meant to be!”

“Yeah!” exclaimed another person. “Plus, Michelangelo and William are two boys. Two manly, manly boys who like girls. Boys just don’t belong together.”

The crowd looked to Murray, anxiously awaiting his response. 

“Okay, then. How about this; everyone who hates the idea of Mike and Will’s relationship, raise your hands.”

The few people who spoke did, as well as a few confused-looking guests. 

“Wait, who are you?” asked Will. “I’ve never seen you before in my life.”

“Oh, I just stopped by. I didn’t pay attention to the wedding or anything. Actually, I don’t even know who you are. I just don’t like you.”

“Cool, sick, great.”

Murray looked at the crowd. “Alright, everyone with your hands up, walk forward…” he gestured to a spot in the carpark, separate from the others. “I’m disappointed in you,” he told them, “I really am. However, I’m out of molotov cocktails, so you all got lucky; I’m not gonna set you on fire today.”

They all breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“But I know someone who can.” He quickly pulled out his walkie-talkie, yelling “BOYS, COME ON DOWN!”

Distantly, barely audible, someone screeched, “YOUR ASS IS GRASS, HOMESLICE!” 

There was no time to escape; no time to move; no time to blink. In an instant, two figures came rocketing in from the sky, hand-in-hand, both on fire, and they landed directly on top of the crowd in a massive crater. 

Smoke billowed through the air. Through the thick, grey fumes, two men stood up. The only ones who survived the crash; Vecna and Eddie. 

Eddie stepped forward. “Now that’s what I call a flaming homosexual.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Mike. “Okay Will, wanna go?”

“Yep. Let’s go.”

“TO THE CITY!”

“RUN AWAYYYYYYY!”

Will used his newfound telekinetic powers to blast him and Mike across the country at infinite speed. Vecna and Eddie looked at each other, nodded, and blasted back into the sun. 

Meanwhile, behind the crowd of guests, Lucas, Max and El were comfortably seated together, on a couch, asleep. Dustin was sitting contently beside them, chatting on the phone with Suzie, whiskey in hand once more. Joyce and Hop looked at each other and said, “That’s our son. Our gay, telekinetic son.” Jonathan stared at Nancy with a concerned look on his face, as his girlfriend bit a chunk out of her shotgun. “I made it out of charcoal chicken”, she said. “In case I got hungry”. 

“Mind if I have a bite?” said Jonathan, drooling.

“Why not?” Nancy said. “Chicken is meant to be shared… just like our love. Now at KFC for only $4.99, you can get yourself a delicious Family Bucket of juicy fried chicken; just $4.99 for fifteen pieces of succulent, delectable fried chicken– I’m lovin’ it!”

“Nancy,” Jonathan whispered. “That’s the McDonald’s slogan.”

“What?” She whispered, true fear clearly visible behind her eyes.

Click.  

Murray was standing behind them, a real sawed-off shotgun in his hands. 

“Say that again. I dare you.”

“It’s… it’s…”

“IT’S FINGER LICKING GOOD!” Shouted Jonathan. Tears streamed from his eyes as he grabbed Nancy’s chicken-shotgun and took a mouth-watering, scrumptious bite. “It’s… finger-licking… good,” he sobbed. 

“Good,” said Murray. “Good… then my work here is done.”

He started to leave, and everyone in the crowd breathed a sigh of relief. Until he suddenly stopped, turning around again. 

“Oh yeah,” he grinned, “I almost forgot.” Murray took a bite out of his shotgun. “You’re not the only chicken-obsessed freaks in Hawkins.”

“Now, for $4.99,” said Murray, “You can get yourself a delicious Family Bucket of juicy fried chick–”

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!” Will shrieked, flying into Murray at the speed of light, shattering him into pieces and splattering the crowd with even more flesh. “If ANY of you mention KFC to me EVER AGAIN, you’ll be next. Got it?”

Everyone nodded.

“Good.”

Will flew away, and Hawkins kept their word; they never uttered those dreaded three letters to one another ever again, lest they relive the worst day of their lives; the day of reckoning; the darkest wedding in Hawkins history; the day Will Byers snapped. 

Legend goes, if you stand in front of the mirror in the old, abandoned Byers house, and whisper, “KFC… KFC… KFC…” Will Byers will appear in your reflection, and when you’re finally found, they’ll never fully scrub you off the walls. 

Such is the legend of Hawkins, in which the strangest things are bound to happen. It’s finger-licking goasdkuvgjhSADJFHGABKSADHFGXABFYWGBXINWKFGXNKAEJWFGXABEKFGNXAKEUVYGFUCKINgFwkrjc3fgnejUCKWHATTHEFUCKNXEVUENXRUVYGNEKVUGXNEFGNEASUwefjhbcqknbfj3hYFXGNEAKFXYGNEKSFYGXNEKsfdmnbSRUHVXNEKSURHVGNSEKUHFGXNEKSURHFXGNESKUFHGXNEKUHFGNSKURFGXNEKSURFHXGNKEUFHGXNEKSUFGNXKERSUHGFKHafkwqh...................,,,,,,,,,///////////////////////////////////////////////oops

-

Hey guys, it’s me again, your narrator. I got splattered into a fleshy pile of meat for a second there. Sorry about that. Don’t worry, though; turns out KFC isn’t chicken at all. It’s just the batter, eleven secret herbs and spices, and the body parts of the unfortunate cretins who dared utter its name. I found that out when the colonel himself broke into my house to make me into KFC. I’m a ghost now. TOODLES. 

-

Yoooooo. If you made it to the end, I love you, please comment so I can congratulate you for surviving lol

[chirpsythismorning]

This is separate from people making Noah’s coming out all about byler, without ever separating Noah from Will, because yes that’s weird. But also entirely expected, like that’s as fandom behavior as it gets.

But for the sake of making a point here, what’s the main argument people use for why byler won’t happen?

It’s that the Duffers are just two straight old white dudes and the actors playing the characters are two straight white dudes. And because of that they’re probably all homophobic so it’ll never happen and if anything the opposite, most messed up ending, is more likely.

Heteronormativity and the assumptions that everyone is definitively straight, until they explicitly say otherwise, is something homophobes depend on.

Now all the people with ignorant arguments like that can do after this news, is bitch about how no one cares that he’s gay and it’s not even a big deal… a concept Noah literally references in his TikTok.

Even though I think straight ppl mean well when they say who cares, they’re ignoring the fact that straightness is the default expectation in our society. And this puts a lot a weight on queer people’s shoulders their entire lives, to essentially live a lie until they finally get the courage to come out.

Noah admitted that it took him 18 years to come out to his family and friends bc he was too scared to.

The reality is straight ppl mostly don’t want to talk/think about it and that’s why they get upset with too much discussion about the possibility in terms of byler and Stranger Things in general.

Unfortunately for all the practicing homophobes in the fandom, they’re going to get a big lesson on heteronormativity and the reality that literally anyone could be/not be gay.

Your best friend. Your brother. Your mom. Your gramma… You.

And that’s what scares ppl who’ve been internalizing homophobia their whole lives. They don’t want to talk/think about it for a reason. And it has nothing to do with actual other queer people just existing, it’s what they’re scared it could or could not mean for them. And they are making a vow to themselves to never find out.

And it’s because they know how gay people are treated and they don’t want to be the butt of jokes like that. They want to belong with people that are ‘normal’ or the default in society. And so hearing those same homophobes try to downplay and discredit Noah for coming out, it’s honestly just sad. The cycle of homophobia/internalized homophobia is so fucking depressing and it affects all of us.

Idec about specific ships at this point, it’s sad that a lot of men/boys in our society still see being gay as a negative thing, something they have to distance themselves from. And by being homophobic, they feel like they’re successful in achieving that distance.

And as much as homophobes piss me off every now and then online and in real life… I know why they’re doing it. Because they’ve been rewarded for it all their lives. They’ve been told doing the opposite made them different.

People forget (or are just unaware I guess) that Noah literally clapped back at byler fans on Twitter post-s2, saying, “why can’t boys just be friends anymore??”… yeah he literally made a textbook Reddit argument… though he has since deleted it…

And so I do hope that future generations of boys and girls are going to feel more comfortable accepting themselves, making it easier for us to be willing to look inward and not be scared and to eventually maybe get to a point where we don’t even have to come out as queer, we can just love who we love and it just is.

But that’s just not reality at this time.

And so yes I’m relieved that Noah himself was comfortable enough to share this with the world and didn’t spend anymore time hiding his sexuality, assuming he wanted to be out!

[elmoshipsbyler]

MY UNCLE (who’s seen stranger things & is a fan) IS COMING OVER and i FULLY intend on talking to him about it

but im also scared cause

- i have no clue where he stands on gay people let alone byler

- what if he’s a reddit bro

- WHAT IF MY PARENTS MENTION MY BYLER ESSAY

like this isn’t gonna stop me from talking to him about stranger things, but if i have to pretend to be a m*leven for a whole weekend i don’t know what i’m gonna do

[storm-of-feathers]

cant sleep gonna say my thoughts.

I think what a lot of people miss about tumblr (and especially unfocused blogs that, say, aren't fandom oriented) is that it's essentially an open journal. it's a microblogging website, and all blogging micro or macro is fundamentally a web log (where the term comes from!). if it seems like I'm not talking ab something enough, it's not because I don't care at all.

It's because first and foremost, this blog is a piece of my soul that I am choosing to share. I'm not trying to be an activist on the internet, I'm not trying to sway anyone to my opinions. I'm saying the things I think and feel. If I talk ab american politics too much, that's because im american. if I'm writing frustrated posts about performative internet activism, that's because it feels exhausting to be out there doing the work (because that's what it is. Its work. Its boring and taxing and it feels like youre getting nowhere. Until you see how far youve come) and having to come to tumblr and seeing people say I didn't talk about [disaster 30000 of the past ten years] enough.

if I seem angry and upset and scared and irrational, its because i am those things. you have to understand. in spite of my rather large follower number, this blog is, first and foremost, for me. I am writing things down and allowing strangers and friends and wanderers to read it. I won't call it a privilege that can be taken away, bc its not like some of my thoughts are exactly a treat, but it is something to keep in mind.

if you ask me why I'm talking about the supreme courts recent decisions but not similar decisions in other countries, the answer comes down to "one of those directly affects me, and therefore i can fight back."

but I shouldn't have to announce where and how I'm fighting back. if for no other reason, my own fucking safety. but also bc this blog isn't any sort of guide to activism, it's not any type instruction. it is, at best, my diary that I published.

and that isn't a bad thing!! and it shouldn't be!!! that's why I harped so hard on the carrd post. that's why I'm vaguely annoyed with my reddit posts. that's why I shared my marital status and sexuality for a long time. that's why i have a rwby icon. that's why my blog title which hasn't changed since 2018 is what it is.

I understand that sometimes I have opinions people don't like. oceangate in particular has proven to be a fantastic example of that. But i am, at the most basic terminology, venting my thoughts and feelings.

that's why I'm talking ab the supreme court and their awful decisions. why I may not be talking about issues that don't directly affect me, but might affect some of you. it's not because i don't care. It's never because I don't care.

It's because my target audience is a mirror.

[welivetodream]

Crippling loneliness in the age of the internet:

"Why do people have to be this lonely? What's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?"

~Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart (1999)

Let me set the scene:

In a dark room, the only light is coming from the phone of a girl laying on the bed, as she mindlessly scrolls for hours on end. She is typing fast, she is running multiple apps in the background, she is listening to the latest hits while doing all of this, her earphones never leave her ears; even when she closes her eyes, she is still listening to a podcast. Despite all these activities happening around her. The girl looks bored and apathetic, her eyes are blank, no emotions, no thoughts. And for hours to come she stays in that state, waiting for something to happen, even if it doesn't, she doesn't care.

This could be the opening lines of a sci-fi novel but this is actually how I act when I am alone. This is how my life has become. And while people like to blame this on the internet that has made Gen Z mindless zombies; I think the only reason I haven't died is because of the internet. To normal people it's a curse that makes humanity fall to its lowest. To me it gave a purpose, a want and a direction to live for.

The Internet isn't the evil mastermind to me, it's a necessity that has kept me alive and not succumbing to the fact I have no one to talk with.

Internet to me isn't Instagram, Snapchat, Discord,Twi--X (someone stop Elon Musk from cooking), it's the "quirky" apps like Pinterest, Tumblr and Reddit as well as the depths of content that is YouTube. It's the places where I found "my" people who understood me, who accepted me, who appreciated me. Growing up I had no one to talk with, even my own family wasn't understanding, let alone my friends.

During my school life I had always been surrounded by friends or as I like to put it, people I can talk to and have lunch with during school hours. That's what it was, nothing more than that. My idea of friends was just different from others, I didn't want emotional connection or people to hang out with. I wanted friends who would listen to my ramblings and be able to debate and discuss things with.

I don't want to seem pretentious or snobbish and definitely not above others in any way. But....when I am surrounded by so many frustratingly stupid people, I don't have any other words to describe them than "not good enough for me". They may be wonderful people, who are warm and lively. I do not care about being around such people. I am someone that watches video essays on morality, ethics, philosophy and analysis of movies and TV, in comparison to the people I know I am just more perceptive and thoughtful and that alone makes me seem like a stranger to them (INTPs are weird in short form). My dad told me smart people have it hard to make friends because of this exact nature, I wouldn't call myself incredibly intelligent but I know I am far more capable in thinking than my classmates who watch reality TV shows and Tiktok dances. Sometimes I cannot even comprehend how people can even get satisfaction and happiness from something as simple as that and that's when I understand: it's okay to be different than that and it's okay that they are "normal".

I feel like I am Lain from "Serial Experiments Lain", as if my existence is given meaning by the internet and I was born from it. My lack of social interactions in person can be explained by that, but it's the thought of talking with other people that often scares me. I am used to being silent, so much so that even on the internet, I remain quiet, not interacting with people who might understand me. Being afraid of not being understood has stopped me from even trying to make connections when there's people ready to do that.

I don't even reply to comments on my posts, unless I have to and I don't talk with anyone on the internet itself. I just watch and be happy at other people's interactions and feel a sense of belonging.

For some days I decided to stop doing that, to stop the vow of silence. To let people approach me and approach others myself. I want to be friends and it's the only thing that I have ever considered as something I couldn't achieve.

Loneliness isn't as pretty as the movies and books tell you. It's more of a psychological thriller than a show like Euphoria and Skins where these stylised depictions make my depression and loneliness appear cool. It's cool to be alone, to have my own space and not cross boundaries but it's not cool to let the loneliness that shields me, devour me.

[kierancampire]

Am I being paranoid?

So just to go over for anyone who doesn't know/forgot. The first guy I "dated" was someone I met through my old online porn blog, he convinced me we were in a relationship and going on our first date, he knew I didn't want to do anything sexual and I denied him multiple times, but the next morning (it was a sorta double day date), this time I got too scared to say no, and when he got my body, he ghosted and blocked me, it was all he wanted and he deceived me. Then there was my last ex who repeatedly sexually assaulted me, and then there was the online stalker I dealt with for over 2 years. Also anecdotally, any time someone in recent years has found my Instagram, it's been for sexual reasons.

So when I woke up at 3 am, I got a notification that someone started following me on Instagram around 11 pm, which I found really weird as my account is dead, there is no reason for anyone to follow or engage with it, it's a graveyard (except those very few people who somehow seem to find it and ask for nudes on there?). So that already was odd. But then when I go to check this person's profile, I see it's a man whose entire profile is dedicated to his fitness and weight loss journey at the gym. My gym.

While I follow my gym on Instagram, just for updates, I never like anything, never comment. So the fact he goes to my gym and tags the gym in all his posts, I have only two theories as to how he found my account. The first is by going down the gym's followers list and looking at/following people who catch his eye. The second is he is aware of my nudes Reddit profile, and either similarly found my Instagram somehow, or went down the gym's follower list, recognised me, then followed me on Instagram.

The thing is, as much as I post/share online, I am completely different in person. I am quite private, very protective over things, and like my distance. And obviously the gym is close to my home as I'm not gonna pick a gym on the other side of the country. Due to trauma related to my ex and school, I was so paranoid and anxious when I first joined the gym, but recently I've been letting my guard down, getting more comfortable, and feeling more at ease there. However, if a man has taken interest in me (meaning he saw me, followed my dead account, and could want something from me cause why else follow a strangers dead account online?), goes to my gym, is in a "private" space for me, and could follow me home, this all just makes me exceptionally uncomfortable. Also the fact he added me so late at night, that also makes me suspicious.

So that's my question, am I being paranoid and over thinking this man's actions, why he followed me, and potential safety issues? Like could he have followed/found me for another reason, and it's nothing to worry about? As I fully admit past trauma could be clouding my vision with paranoia. Or is it weird to anyone else that he seemingly went down the gym's follower list late at night, saw my account, followed it, could be interested in me, and has access to an area I go to?

TL;DR a man followed my dead Instagram late at night, my best guess is he did so by going down the gym's follower list and took interest in me, and due to past traumas I'm concerned about safety, as we share the same gym. I'm worried about him stalking me/trying to pressure things onto me, but I also am unsure if this is just my past traumas making me paranoid, if he followed me for some other reason and just happens to go to my gym, and I don't need to worry about him.

[heliza24]

This was one of those lines and scenes that basically turns me inside out with envy as a writer. This exchange is working on so many levels. Like on a macro level it is summing up the themes of the show. Andy and the other inventors are fixated on creating technology that will protect them in the face of climate change but it's not enough to protect them from murder. In fact sometimes it's the technology itself that's being used to kill them. Andy is constantly talking technology in these big sweeping terms. He uses it to keep himself separate and apart from the rest of the world. But Darby uses it for connection. She fell in love with Bill on the internet. She uses technology to find the clues that lead her to answers. She uses Ray to keep herself grounded. She sees the humanity, the people-made hacks, threaded through every interface and every computer. The dead speak to her but so does code. And when the show touches on a generational divide I think that's what it's mainly saying. How do you view technology? Is it a tool to help you stay separate and apart from the rest of humanity or a way to speak to the dead? In reality there are people of every generation that have every possible relationship to technology. But there is something that feels very Gen x about Andy and very Gen Z about Darby in their relationship to computers.

Bill is kind of an in between. He meets Darby on the internet, but their courtship is analogue. He woos her using Morse code after they graduate off of Reddit. After he leaves Darby he starts making art that protests smart cities. Maybe he was murdered because he opposed some sort of tech that Andy is working on. We're not sure yet. And he's frustrated that Darby is so obsessed with the case she can't look up and see him, and for Darby the case lives on her phone. So it makes sense on a scene level that he would be railing against phones here. He's just been so vulnerable with her, listed the moments he knew he was in love with her, and she's too scared to be vulnerable in return. Instead she turns back to the phone. So it makes sense that he's displacing his frustration with Darby onto the object of her obsession. And her response just cuts through his defense mechanism. It's such a good rebuttal. It refutes his initial assumption, that her obsession with the case means she doesn't love him. It lets her be vulnerable and defend herself at the same time. It's such a good line.

Another thing I loved about this episode was the way that the Bill/Darby relationship shifted. In the beginning of the series Bill feels very dangerous. He's a stranger Darby met on the internet, he's hacking lights on abandoned train tracks to send her a message, he's sweeping her away on a cross country roadtrip to find a killer. He could easily be a killer himself. Those early scenes between them are shot in a way to emphasize the danger and the edginess that exists between them, and you’re supposed to be scared for Darby. But as we gradually get to know Bill we realize how caring and thoughtful he is. We see how much he cares about Darby and especially about her consent before anything sexual happens. And in this episode we realize that there was always a dangerous element in their relationship. But it was Darby, not Bill. It was Darby's obsession with the case, her comfort and dedication to the dead over the living, and her spiraling mental health that threatened their safety and their relationship.

By the time Darby is in Iceland, it seems like she's grown past this negative mental health space, at least to an extent. She's written about her experience finding the killer with Bill and put it behind her. But death finds her in Iceland and pulls her back in, and in this episode we see her resort to some of the same unhealthy coping mechanisms in order to solve the case.

The other perfect line from this episode was "sometimes I feel like I would have to die for you to love me", and I think it's so wonderful because it's both extremely true and totally wrong. Darby does have a connection to the dead, and she is bound to Bill more strongly in his death than she was during the years after he left her. She is intent on finding out what happened to him, but at the same time she is drowning in grief. She's unwilling to offer Bill's name when the other guests lists the other murder victims at the bonfire because that would mean he is really not coming back, he's really just the same as all the other serial killer victims they investigated together. And she loved him more than that. She loved him in life too.

This show is so good, the writing and the dialogue and the symbolism and sense of fate that runs through it is so good. I really hope they stick the landing of the mystery because I just love it. This episode in particular is just rattling around in my brain, I can't let it go.

[ratboyhole]

Weird mommy/daughter shit that I wrote for reddit but they didn't appreciate >:( maybe you sick fucks will like it more

Inspired by the Mommy/Baby Girl stuff I do with my gf :3

I really fucked up. I'm a 41 year old single mom. I've been raising my daughter alone since her father passed away twelve years ago. Four years later, she told me she felt like a girl despite how she was born, and I supported her unconditionally. I loved her, and while I didn't think she needed to know at the time, as a bisexual woman, we are apart of the same community. But that's not the fuck up.

My daughter is 20 now and she is attending university. She is very beautiful, and she says there are lots of other lgbtq+ students at her school, so she feels very safe among them. But, recently she told me about a girl who rejected her advances. They had been flirting online, and my daughter thought she should come out to her before it went any further. The other girl did not take it well, and decided to not only out my daughter to strangers, but made false accusations as against her as well. Luckily my daughter had all their messages saved, that proved no such thing had happened. None the less, she wanted to take a week off school, and I happily obliged. The house is so empty without her.

The other night, I could hear her crying through the wall. Normally, I'd let her be. If she wanted to come to Mommy, she would. But her cries sounded more pained than usual, I couldn't handle hearing it without at least checking on her. I wrapped a robe around myself, and walked over to her door. Knocking gently 'can I come in, Baby Girl?'

No response. But after I second I heard shuffling, and the door opened. My daughter stood in front of me, her long thick hair spilling over her teary eyed face. I hugged her tightly, my face squashing into her breasts, in a reversal of when she was small. I held her tight before asking 'what is it,' and sitting down on her bed.

She sat beside me and stayed quiet for a while. She stared at the wall and I waited patiently, gripping her hand in comfort. Her lip quivered, and in a embarassed squeak she confessed 'I'm scared no woman will ever see me for who I am' she started sobbing again, and I felt rage boil within me. I hated that little bitch from her college so much in that moment, something so strange came over me.

As I hugged my sobbing daughter in my arms, I noticed the buldge in her shorts begin to grow. It had been so, so long since I played with a hard, throbbing cock. The hand that had been stroking her hair slowly slid down her body, and I felt almost out of control of myself. I first touched her bare thigh, and I heard her breathing pattern change. I wondered if she could hear my heart begin to pound. Slowly, as if on it's own, my hand grabbed the now throbbing bulge in her shorts. 'Mom?' She gasped in confusion.

I could barely hear her. My brain was buzzing with thoughts of cock, thinking about how good it feels when it throbs in my mouth, the taste and the smell. About how I had never sucked a GIRLS cock before. 'Shh baby, it's okay. Mommy is going to make you feel better.' I cooed, gripping her cock tightly now and stroking it through the fabric. She leaned back, whimpering under my touch and grinding her hips against my hand. 'Good girl.'

She opened her eyes to stare at me as I stroked her cock and I pulled my robe open, exposing my large tits. 'Can I touch them Mom?' She asked, staring greedily at them. I smiled.

'Of course baby girl. Touch Mommy wherever you like' I replied. With that, she grabbed one of my heavy breasts in her hand and moaned in satisfaction. I grabbed the waistband of her shorts and freed her cock. As it bounced out, I felt my clit throb in response. It was large and thick, uncut and absolutely dripping with precum. 'Wow, I can't believe how wet you are for Mommy.' I moaned, as her hands squeezed my large tits and pinched my hard nipples.

I slid off the bed onto my knees in front of her, admiring her cock from below. It had been a while, but I still remembered how to worship a cock. It throbbed above me and I deeply inhaled her scent, licking up the shaft of her gorgeous girl cock and teasing the head with the tip of my tongue. I teased it like that for a while, before suddenly plunging every inch all the way down my throat. Above me, my daughter was making the loudest, horniest sounds I have ever heard from another person. I wiggled my tongue out and licked her cute, round balls as her cock was rammed all the way down my throat.

I wasn't down there long before she began to moan 'Mommy, I'm going to cum. Can I please cum on your tits?' I pulled her cock from my throat and stroked it, unloading every drop of cum onto my tits. I smiled, and wrapped my robe around myself, looking up at my daughter's beautiful face, now filled with post orgasmic bliss instead of sadness.

'Are you feeling better, baby?' I asked, standing up and kissing her forehead.

'Yes, thank you Mommy' she sighed contentedly. I smiled to myself, and left her alone for the night.

As soon as I got to my room, I panicked. I couldn't believe I did that, and I don't know WHY I did that. But, as soon as I was back in my room I grabbed my rabbit vibe and started fucking myself until I very quickly had one of the most intense orgasms of my life.

I feel so fucked up about this. We haven't talked about it since, but sometimes I catch her staring at my tits. What the fuck should I do??