#mike and will are the only ones that can be themselves with each other and give each other the love they deserve

[thranduel]

"el would be so heartbroken without mike, she needs him"

meanwhile el: her happiest moments were with max when mike wasn't around, she was happy after she dumped mike, max was the only person who truly allowed her to be herself and taught her how to discover her own interests, she chose to go with owens even though she was warned she might not ever see mike again, she has proved over and over again that she doesn't need him

"will can just move on and find someone else, he can get over mike"

meanwhile will: has been in love with mike since the beginning, had an emotional breakdown and destroyed castle byers after his fight with him, thought about mike when he was away and made him a special painting that meant the world to him, considers mike "the heart", only feels fully safe and comfortable with mike ("you make me feel like i'm not a mistake at all. like i'm better for being different. and that gives me the courage to fight on"), literally told mike that he'll ALWAYS need him, had another emotional breakdown and cried in the van because he confessed his feelings to mike and loves him so much but he thinks that mike will never love him back and he's so afraid of losing him, still finds it hard to watch mike and el to the point where his brother notices and has to remind him that everything will be okay and that he'll always be there for him because will is really struggling mentally

like seriously come on

[hothammies]

morning hug - apoc au relationship details under the cut!

--- mike and will's (+ the og party's) background:

is it mike and will if they aren't childhood besties? their moms were friends before the infection hit and they saw each other occasionally before the apocalypse

after the apocalypse, they lived in the same walled community with their families and stuck together for a long time! from ages 4 to 7, they were basically each other's only friends until lucas came around at age 8 and dustin came around at age 9

the boys were separated from their families because a neighboring group attacked, effectively destroying the community (more on that another time)

this is when the og party learned to live and survive with each other!

in this au -> mike fell first, will fell harder :)

just friends... with benefits:

are able to talk about anything and everything

each other's closest relationship out of the party -> used to rely on each other emotionally (much more strained after they started doing fwb)

tentative fwb - usually only engage in benefits after they've had a bad day or are really stressed out

things feel normal when they're together and the morning after but then they give each other the cold shoulder...

mike has started making a habit of ensuring that there's a buffer person between the two of them when he assigns jobs (cannot handle the tension)

are currently -> avoiding each other + the other party members have noticed (they don't know ab the two of them)

what is their problem?

mike is scared of being committed to each other because he's seen what happens to people (his mom, rip ted LOL) who have lost their partners. he doesn't want that to happen to him or will were one of them to die.

he's also afraid of the possibility that a relationship between the two of them could affect the party's whole group dynamic and set things off, because he's more worried about their survival then he is about his own feelings towards will.

he loves will so unbelievably much that it hurts, and the idea of getting even closer to will and suddenly losing him hurts even more, so he keeps his distance.

-

will is most afraid of losing mike and the group were he to ask him to take their feelings any further. he's seen how devoted mike is to the group and to him, but he doesn't know if there's a limit to what mike is willing to tolerate from him.

he doesn't want to take the risk of alienating either of them, and he cherishes his relationship with mike so much that he's willing to go along with what mike is doing, which is straining their friendship.

will is a natural giver. if all mike wants is a fwb relationship even if he wants more, than he'll give it to him, even if it's tearing him apart on the inside :') he doesn't know if mike loves him back, so will is emotionally torn up from the distance that this is creating btwn them.

---

other notes: fwb byler is a really interesting dynamic to explore, especially in this apocalypse setting - by the point in the story that they become fwb, they're 17 and they don't really have any clue about what they're doing. most of their clues about intimate relationships stem from old magazines from a while back (that don't say anything about gay relationships) as well as what their older siblings taught them when they were 12, which highlighted the emotional aspect and not the physical aspect.

mike and will know that something within their relationship has fundamentally changed, and they have no idea how to handle it. however, they know that they can experiment and relieve tension with each other safely, but are also extremely conflicted on how they present themselves to each other outside of their experimenting and to the party.

heteronormative societal pressure is not a conflict in this story (at least, not yet) - they don't live with anyone else except the other party members for the time being. their only conflict has to do with them both being scared of losing the other. they live in a world where anyone can die so quickly, so they don't want to fuck up what they have :'D mike wheeler is the king of being unable to process his romantic feelings properly and will byers is the king of completely repressing his emotions! they're perfect for each other!

both of them are the equivalent of shaken up soda bottles with mints inside them, ready to explode (the mints are them being friends with benefits)

[strangersteddierthings]

Pumpkin Carving (A Halloween One Shot)

Pumpkin carving and a sleepover. An excuse for everyone to gather together on Halloween now that the Party has decided they're too old to trick-or-treat.

A pumpkin carving station has been set up in the Harrington's giant three car garage. Steve did debate setting it all up in the yard, less cleanup of the pumpkin insides that way, but it was pretty chilly, and Steve wasn't sure how long they'd all take to do the actual carving.

Does pumpkin carving take long?

Steve's never carved a pumpkin so he wouldn't know. There is no universe in which his mother would have allowed a pumpkin in her house, much less under the circumstance of then cutting it open and freeing it of its insides. While Steve has never participated in the act of carving a pumpkin, he knows how it goes. Hypothetically.

He'd needed to know enough to gather all the supplies after all, so a quick call to Robin (along with some gentle teasing and mocking) and he was set.

Eddie arrives first, having been volunteered to go get the pumpkins from the patch. It's not that Steve is scared of the pumpkin patch, or anything, it's just that Eddie's van would be better for transporting them.

Steve tried to offer to unload them, insisting it was only fair since Eddie had to load them, but Eddie just rolls his eyes and gets to work. It's not that pumpkins are extra heavy, but they aren't exactly light. And Steve knows that Eddie thinks Steve doesn't want his help because of how long it took Eddie to heal, but that's not the reason. Steve just...

Steve's just drawn to watching instead of helping when Eddie grabs a pumpkin under each arm, muscles flexing as he tightens his hold enough to keep them trapped between his arms and his sides and now Steve's left wishing, wistfully and not for the first time, that it was his thighs Eddie was wrapping those arms around. That it was him Eddie was hoisting up, perhaps holding against a wall and-

"Am I going to do all the loading and unloading?" Eddie bursts his thoughts by knocking their shoulders together as he passes by, already on his second round of pumpkin unloading.

"What, no, sorry," Steve turns to grab two pumpkins of his own. It's quick work with the two of them, then, to unload, and a short wait for everyone to start showing up.

Some biked, others dropped off by parents. Steve walks out to each car to chat and confirm that yes, of course they can stay the night; they won't be a bother and I'll keep them out of trouble.

Soon enough the garage is full of people, pumpkins, and noise. Lucas and Max have migrated to the corner of the garage closest to the door leading inside to whisper together as Lucas guts two pumpkins while Max describes what she wants on hers. Will and Mike have also set themselves apart to work out whatever it is they plan to carve on their own pumpkins. Dustin, El, Erica, and Eddie have plopped down in the center and just got to work. They aren't coordinating their pumpkins like the couples seem to be doing. They do seem to be taking it the most serious, though, with the absolute silence from all of them, concentration faces fully on.

Steve is off on his own, too. He's taken a seat about five feet from Eddie but he's the furthest from the door. He frowns down at his pumpkin, suddenly feeling embarrassed. He's not sure how to start. What to do.

He looks up from his pumpkin and over to Eddie. He's using a knife to saw around the stem of the pumpkin. Which, duh. Steve should have put that together. There has to be some way to remove the insides easily, so removing the top made sense.

Without trying to overthink it all, Steve stabs into the top of his pumpkin and starts sawing his own circle around the top. It's. Well, it's something. He wouldn't say sawing a circle is fun but it's not tedious and soon enough his knife returns to the starting point and... Hmm. He watches as the bit he just cut around sags into his pumpkin. Eddie's didn't do that.

Steve frowns down at it for a moment before grabbing the stem and pulling the top off. His face wrinkles in disgust at the stringy clump of pumpkin insides that hang from the top and he sets that down to the side quickly. He's realizing now why everyone else chose to wear short sleeves even though it's cold outside as he looks around the garage and sees everyone shoving their hands into the pumpkin, pulling stringy, seedy, strands of pumpkin out.

With a sigh, Steve rolls a sleeve up and plunges his own hand into the holes he's made and almost instantly rips his hand back out. Ew. No. Gross! Wrong! The feeling of the strands breaking under the pressure of his hand, the slightly moist feeling of the inside, the unexpected slipperiness of the seeds, all of it sends a shiver of revulsion up Steve's spine. He makes a soft gagging noise against his own will.

"You gonna be sick?" Eddie asks almost immediately.

"Uh. Oh, yeah," Steve says as he feels his face heat with an embarrassed blush. He can see that all eyes are on him now, which adds to his embarrassment on top of realizing the question he was asked and what he answered. "Wait, I mean no. I'm not going to be sick."

Eddie looks from Steve to his pumpkin, and back up. "Don't like the feeling of pumpkin guts?"

"It was just unexpected is all," Steve defends, even as the thought of sticking his hands back into the pumpkin sends another shiver through him.

"Unexpected," Dustin repeats back. Steve tenses but nothing else follows that. He looks over and Dustin seems to be having a silent conversation with Eddie judging by the stare down.

"Maybe I am gonna be sick," Steve lies, standing quickly and fleeing the garage.

God fucking dammit. Why is he so embarrassed about this? Why is he... he's hiding the fact he's never done this before, and he doesn't know why. They aren't going to mock him for it. Well. Maybe a little, but in the same way Robin did. Tease him because they love him. They wouldn't really be making fun of him. Except maybe Mike but Steve doesn't really care about his opinion anyway. Gave up on that a while ago.

He goes to the kitchen sink on autopilot, scrubbing the gross, now dried and tacky feeling from his hand. He's in the process of drying his hands when a voice startles him.

"Hey man. You okay?"

It's Eddie. Of course, it's Eddie they would send after him.

"Yeah," he turns so his back is to the sink, leaning back against it to look at Eddie.

"You never have to scoop out a pumpkin before? Did someone else do it for you?"

If anyone else had asked, Steve would think it was condescending. Someone mockingly asking after nannies or servants who would do the gross part of pumpkin carving for the little rich kid. But it's Eddie, and he's just curious and sincere. So, Steve says, "nah, man. Just never done this before."

Eddie's browse crinkle in confusion and Steve thinks he's so fucking cute. He wants to kiss the confusion from his brow. "You've never carved a pumpkin before?"

Steve just gives a shake of his head before shrugging. He wants to cross his arms, close in on himself, but it's Eddie. He's trying to not shy away from the people he cares about. He's trying to let them take care of him, too.

(It's been a process, since the defeat of Vecna. Learning to let people care about him. He's better at it these days. Robin said so and if anyone is an expert on him, it's her. He can't always trust his own opinion to be unbiased.)

"I'll scoop out your pumpkin if you still want to give pumpkin carving a try," Eddie offers, a soft, lopsided smile on his face that Steve adores. The bats took a good chunk of his left cheek, and the scarring is heavy, the muscles non-responsive, so every smile is lopsided, but Steve loves them all.

"Okay," Steve says, offering a soft smile in return but doesn't push off the sink. Not until Eddie approaches, taking Steve's wrist and tugging him along.

No one says anything when they return to the garage, nor when Eddie blows past his own pumpkin to sit next to Steve and grab up his pumpkin. Eddie looks down at the hole Steve's carved, a calculated look on his face. It's cleared away soon enough when he smiles as wide as his scarred cheek allows before he gets to work on the pumpkin. He cleans it out thoroughly before handing it back to Steve, then crawls across the floor to retrieve his own abandoned pumpkin, rolling it across the floor as he crawls back.

"Oh, wait. Can you go get me a marker?" Eddie asks, as Steve is examining his pumpkin, trying to imagine a face to go on it.

"Yeah," Steve says, glad to have a moment more to think about the face as he fetches a marker from his father's office.

He returns to most of the kids having already finished their own pumpkins. Unsurprising, considering how much time Steve spent just thinking about carving before he even started.

"Marker," Steve offers it out after he's sat down again, close enough that his knee is touching Eddie's this time.

"Thanks," Eddie takes the marker and adjusts so more of his leg is pressing against Steve's. "So, you can freehand the face if you want, or I could draw you a face to cut out? If you want."

"Oh. Uh, yeah. Yeah, sure," Steve says, shoving his pumpkin towards Eddie who looks delighted by Steve's answer. It doesn't take him long to draw on a face. Triangle eyes, a little rectangle nose, and a wide mouth filled with jagged teeth.

Steve and Eddie carve in quiet, while Steve basks in the warmth of Eddie's leg next to his, touching his. He's never been sure if Eddie likes him back, not enough to announce his own crush, but sometimes... There are times like this that fill him with hope.

Steve doesn't even realize they've been abandoned to the garage until Eddie finishes his pumpkin, which is three bats carved artistically into the side. Steve is impressed, and when he turns to ask if anyone else is, there isn't anyone there.

"Oh. I didn't even hear them leave."

Eddie plops the top of his pumpkin back on, which reminds Steve he needs to do the same. He reaches for his top but Eddie beats him to it, craving the gross mass of sides that was stuck to it off before handing it over it.

Steve sets the top back on the pumpkin, and it immediately drops into the pumpkin. "What. Why did it-?"

"You gotta cut the top into an odd shape or at an angle. Otherwise, that happens. But it's okay. You didn't know, and I know how to fix it. You got some toothpicks in your house?" Eddie says, assuring Steve before he even has time to overthink it.

Can Steve be any more in love with him at this point?

"What?" Eddie whispers, eyes wide and face slowly turning red.

"What?"

"You just... you, uhh. Did you not mean to say that out loud?"

"Say wha- oh God," Steve registers what he'd thought, or apparently, what he said and now he and Eddie are just staring at each other, wide-eyed and unmoving.

"I'm not going to question if you meant it," Eddie starts slowly, clearly the more brave one of the two, "just. I need to know if you mean it, like, romantically."

"I did. Do. I-" Steve can be brave, too. He can. "I do love you. Romantically."

"Holy shit. I want to pull you in and kiss you so bad but my hands are covered in pumpkin guts and-"

Steve does it for him, both hands grabbing at his face and pulling him in.

His first time carving a pumpkin ends up being fantastic, even counting the kids flooding back into the garage to scream 'finally' at them.

-

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

[nburkhardt]

We’re just gonna see where this goes but it’s inspired by this! Hope you don’t mind @thorniest-rose

~

When it first came to be, it was strictly dnd. Honest. It was a safe place for anybody who wanted to play in the game, to find friends.

But somewhere along the way when it was just the core four; Gareth, Jeff, Frankie and of course, Eddie.

They used their time in Hellfire to become best friends and eventually learn something else they have in common.

A crush on Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington.

The four of them hated admitting it out loud but it came to a halt when the jock was partnered up with Jeff for a project and Jeff couldn’t stop talking about how nice the guy actually is. It snowballed from there, Gareth found out the guy drove middle schoolers around when he accidentally ran into him at the arcade and one of the middle schoolers wouldn’t leave him alone. Then Frankie accidentally bumped into him during lunch and Steve gave up his food when Frankie’s was all over the floor.

What really sold all of them on the crush was when Eddie decided all of them deserved a treat for defeating the latest campaign. Eddie froze the second he stepped into Scoops Ahoy when Steve turned from his coworker and greeted them.

It was after that they all really admitted to the crush and would spend a few minutes each hellfire session to talk about it.

They thought once the new school year started, they’ll finally move past it.

It was going really good, until the new members came in and all four of them got a front row seat yet again of the one they all like.

Steve dropping off Dustin Henderson and Robin Buckley at school, or Steve hanging around Hellfire to drag Henderson home. They see him around town too, usually with Robin but sometimes he’s out with Dustin and Sinclair’s sister getting ice cream of all things.

They’re all cowards though.

Never actually finding any sort of courage to actually talk to the guy. At least not directly and never long enough, sometimes they’ll say hi and how are yous. Little stuff, ya know?

Luckily no one caught onto it, especially since they actually see Steve more and more now. Instead of talking about the crush during hellfire sessions, they use band practice now. Just to save themselves a from tiny bit of embarrassment.

Eddie’ll admit later on that he got a little, just a tiny amount really, high. A bit, truly. That’s what makes his lips a little loose, makes his brain mushy, makes him giddy and have the giggles.

He’ll blame Henderson or maybe thank him? Eddie isn’t sure yet but for now not just himself but his best friends are all frozen right now.

“You what?!” Henderson screeches and makes them move again, “Hellfire is what now?”

Eddie can process that this is starting to go sideways but the high is pleasant and blurring his lines, so he looks up at Dustin, “a Steve Harrington fan club? A bit. Stevie is pretty boy! How can we not? He’s nice and sunshine in human form, he’s just so so good! And and and gorgeous!”

He sighs and closes his eyes, “so kissable tooooooooo”

Everyone else in the have very different reactions. Jeff, Gareth, Frankie all shrug and nod. Mike and Lucas look a little disappointed and annoyed, Dustin’s the only one that doesn’t seem to either agree or disagree. He looks both happy and grossed out. Eddie’s head is floating away, he can’t really process any of this information. And he’s not gonna ask questions in this state or answer more questions.

“Sooo, I gotta admit, was not expecting this”

Eddie’s stomach does a flip as his eyes fly open and when they focus, there, standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a smile or maybe a smirk- maybe neither? Eddie’s can’t tell. It’s very, very nice. He does know that at least.

Steve is very, very pretty. Especially as he moves into the room, “Seeeee, Henderson? Ain’t he just gorgeous?”

Dustin looks between them, shaking his head before turning to the others, the ones not currently high. “Seriously?”

Frankie shrugs again, “I mean, Ed isn’t wrong. Thought I’d be over it, but here I am anyway.”

Jeff nodded and Gareth rolled his eyes, “we tried keeping between us only”

The new members frowned, while Dustin and Steve stared at each other. Steve fighting back a laugh, while Dustin already cracked a smile before looking back at Eddie, who’s head is finally floating back down and he’s started to sit back up.

“Oh. Oh man. I did-” Eddie looked between everyone, face turning bright red as he closes his eyes and blinking before meeting Steve’s eyes, “fuccccck, dude- I,”

There’s a glint in Steve’s gaze, his laugh dying but a smile staying in it’s place, “Picked a great day to hang around, maybe we can do all of that again some day?”

“What?”

Eddie sees the younger boys snap their heads to look at Steve, Dustin’s the only one to smile and bounce in his place. The older boys are glaring at him, Eddie can tell even without looking, green isn’t really their color.

Steve’s face hasn’t moved though, still looking at him and definitely smirking.

“Let’s try the complaints and pretty names again, Eddie baby” Steve says, and Eddie cannot believe his ears.

Eddie can tell he looks dumb but he nods and nods and nods as his smile grows, “I can come up with so many. So many, Sunshine, Darling, just you wait!”

(His best friends are both very jealous and very happy for him. And they’ll eventually with time, joke about this and play try getting Steve to themselves. Eddie will always win at the end. Someday it’ll come out that Steve was just waiting for the day for the guts to ask Eddie out. Robin let’s Eddie and the guys in on that secret.)

~ ~

Like I said I don’t know where this was going it kinda wrote itself. I… don’t know how it got this long. Also Lucas and Mike look annoyed because that’s their babysitter. It gross. Dustin’s happy because it’s his big brother. 😌

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[soracities]

oooh please tell us what writing rules are garbage I would love to hear more

it's not that they're garbage, which isn't what i said, just that they annoy me and even then what annoys me is not the "rules" themselves (because i do believe they can be useful depending on what you're writing) but when some of them are put out as the only way to write something as if storytelling is a one-size fits all approach, as if you can reduce the millenia-long history of literature into a fail-proof formula that will work for all writing across all cultures with no room for experimentation.

i think there are as many ways to tell a story as there are stories and how you tell something and the kind of language you use will vary depending on what language actually means to you as a writer. hemingway and faulkner both famously took digs at each other for their styles (even though i think there was a lot of admiration between them) but they are also two very different writers with two completely different approaches to language and how they use that language to say the things they want to say: neither is inherently better, or more right, than the other--their approaches were just right for them; if faulkner wanted to write using the "older, simpler, better" words hemingway loved, he would have. if james joyce wanted to depict dublin the way dickens depicted london, he would have done so. but they didn't.

someone once posted an excellent breakdown by jeff vandermeer of the different writing styles employed by different authors which i was silly enough not to save at the time, but in it he gives an overview of the structure of their sentences, and how complicated or "rich" the language is, without pitting one style against the other. and to be honest, i think writing advice that encourages you to examine and look at that relationship with language, and what it holds for you (and others) and why, is probably more helpful than blanket statements like "stay away from ambiguity" or "avoid long sentences" because neither of those actually mean anything--a sentence is a vessel but it's also a tool, like a hoghair brush or a palette knife; the value of its impact is not an essence that exists in and of itself, but entirely dependent on how you use it, otherwise all literature would just read the same way.

strict adherence to a particular form or structure within a language does not automatically make for better writing, especially not when so much literature actually consists of, and is built from, works and authors actively rebelling against those same traditional forms and structures (but which is also not to say that those forms and structures are inherently useless, either). you can say that long sentences "risk distraction" or are "ineffective" but then where does that leave someone like laszlo krasznahorkai, whose prose runs on like some kind of breathless, hypnotic incantantion for 20, 30 pages without a single full stop in sight? or a book like solar bones by mike mccormack which is made up of a single sentence going on for 200 pages? i'm not saying long sentences can't be boring or tedious, but in all honesty so can short sentences--so can any writing that follows the "rules" to the letter. if something is poorly written, the "rules" matter very little; if it's well written, they matter even less.

all that said, telling people to "avoid long sentences" is not inherently a bad thing because i think the core of it is wanting to ensure your writing remains clear, which is a fair point--but it's an issue, to me at least, when it turns into one of those dictums or pronouncements that actively narrows the potential range language can actually have. clarity is not always about length, or whether or not you cull all of your run-on lines--mihail sebastian drew a very nice distinction in one of his novels when he said "[is] there’s a single way of being clear? A notary can be clear, or a poet, but they don’t seem to me the same thing". a long sentence can be clear, but its clarity exists on different terms to a sentence that is five words long, because its relationship to its content is different. and at the end of the day, that relationship is really what it's about for me and it's distinct to each work and its author.

writers use the language and form they use that best allows them to say what they want to say. no one in their right mind is going to dismiss zadie smith for not writing like angela carter or angela carter for not writing like hemingway or hemingway for not writing like beckett or beckett for not writing like mallarmé. robert frost and sara teasdale were no more correct than the beatniks were. i love pared down, beautifully concise prose, but i also adore books that relish in language and all the various, multi-coloured layers of it, books that eschew (traditional) plot and books that question their own form and the reality of that form, and books that tell a story as straightforwardly as possible.

to be honest i think one of the most formative things i came across, years ago now, was this piece by gary provost, which really sums up the whole notion of "writing rules" for me:

this is not about do's or dont's. it even breaks the first writing rule i learnt in school ("never begin a sentence with 'And'"). but what it does is center an intimate understanding of language, where it can go and how it can get there, and what you want that to do. that's where it's at for me!

[likegoldintheair]

Will reaches out then, tenderly tucking a stray lock of hair behind Mike's ear, unable to stop himself even though Mike's hair is drenched in blood. They both are; their clothes ripped and stained a deep red, their hands and arms and faces, too. Will doesn't know how much of the blood is actually their own, and how much of it is- he doesn't really want to think about it, to be honest.

He swallows as he lets his hand slip down the side of Mike's neck and over his collarbone, tries not to look at the trail of smeared blood left in its wake, stopping only when he can press the flat of his palm against Mike's chest.

He takes a deep breath, tries to focus on the steady beats of Mike's heart against his hand, a welcome reminder that Mike's still here; that he's a living, breathing thing, his skin warm under the touch of Will's hand. Tries to ignore the way his mind catches, almost like an old record, as the same words repeat themselves over and over: I almost lost him.

Mike shifts slightly, his own hand coming up to rest gently over Will's. "We should- we should clean up."

—

The shower is not built for two people, but the mere thought of leaving Mike's side for more than a few seconds is more than Will can take. He stares at the shower for a moment, then glances back to Mike.

"Do you- I can wait, if you want me to."

Mike tilts his head a little, a small uptick in the corner of his mouth. He shakes his head, "No, it's fine. We can- you can stay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Mike breathes out, his fingers finding Will's momentarily. "I want you to stay."

They undress in silence and then climb into the shower, arms and legs a tangled mess. Will looks at Mike, traces the streaks of blood covering his face with his eyes. It should probably freak him out more than it does, he thinks. Standing here in a shower, naked and covered in blood, with Mike. Instead, he feels more at ease than he has in a long, long time.

He reaches around Mike then to turn on the water, draws in a shaky breath when Mike's hand finds its way to his waist, steadying him. They make quick work of cleaning up, helping each other to wash the blood out of their hair, scrubbing at their bodies until the skin is an angry red.

Will feels wringed out and a bit out of it afterward, as if his body is still trying to process it all. He's tired, too. The kind of tired that finds its home deep in your bones and makes your entire body ache, and all he wants to do is sleep. He wants to close his eyes but knows all too well that sleep isn't something they can really afford these days. But maybe, just maybe, they can allow themselves the freedom of one night of sleep.

He follows Mike out of the bathroom and leaves the towel in a wet pile on the floor, along with their clothes that are stained and ripped beyond mending. He'll throw it all out tomorrow. For now, all he can do is focus on the feeling of soft, clean fabric surrounding him as he crawls into bed next to Mike.

He takes in a shuddering breath, pushing down the sudden pang of sadness as he realizes that this might be the only night like this that they'll have in a very long time. He presses in closer to Mike, clings to him, and allows himself to breathe him in. His right hand finds Mike’s, their fingers lacing together, and when Mike gives his hand a gentle squeeze, Will finally lets his eyes drift close.

He doesn’t know how much time they have left, if any at all. He doesn’t know much about anything anymore, to be honest. But he do know that they are just at the beginning, that what might feel like the world is ending is actually a prologue, and he's going to make sure that they have more time than this.

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Truth of the Matter

A Four Part Miniseries

@wonderland-girl143-blog @gregre369 @420-hun

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Steve, Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy stood in Steve's living room watching Eddie. He was sitting cross-legged on the coffee table pouring over his spellbook, his tongue poking out.

"You know, I have perfectly good couches," Steve said, crossing his arms, and Eddie hummed without looking at him. "He's lucky he's so cute."

"Okay. . .okay, it sounds like this spell is going to be difficult, especially with all of us, and it says I need to be. . .stronger for this. Fuck, I have to be a certain level? Well, what fucking level am I?" Eddie asked. "And how do I gain experience? More spells? You know, whoever wrote this book should have had this damn thing coded. You know, write in the margins which ones are for beginners."

"Well, considering the few spells that you have done, I think you're very much still a beginner," Robin said.

"If this is too much, we can wait. . .save up money. . . Buy plane tickets," Steve said.

"Baby, we're going to see this through, and your mother's waited long enough. . .you're worth it, Steve Harrington. . .now, shut up, I'm thinking," Eddie said.

"Oh, oh! I think I remember your father mentioning something about using magical creatures like conduits," Chrissy said.

"Yeah, no, I'm not using either one of you like that. And if my father suggested it, then I'm definitely not going to do it," Eddie scoffed.

"Well, what if we want to do it?" Steve asked.

"I can do the spell myself," he replied.

"Yeah, but it doesn't mean you should," he said.

"How in the hell is this relationship supposed to work if we're both equally stubborn?" Eddie asked with a scowl.

"Well, if we're both determined enough, we'll make it work," Steve replied.

"Eddie, it sounds like we both want to do this," Chrissy said softly.

"Are you sure?" Nancy asked.

"Very," Chrissy said, and Nancy smiled. "I want to do everything that I can to help Steve find his mom or dad. Not just because we're both fae but because it's the right thing to do."

"Thanks, Chrissy," Steve said softly and then paused. "Wait, what do you mean, mom or dad? My dad's dead, remember?"

"Oh. Did I not mention?" Chrissy asked with a frown.

"Mention what?" He asked.

"Fae can have children with anyone regardless of their gender. I had two mothers," Chrissy replied. "And some fae are what they themselves call genderfluid. . .depending on what they feel like. So, this person could be your mother, father, or both. Being transgender and queer is also more commonly accepted amongst fae. It's because of their beliefs that the fae had to remain hidden in the shadows, hiding with their illusion and glamor magic. They would come out of the shadows to help lost humans, whether they be fae, humans, or Wiccans, especially if they're children and rejected by their community because of who they love."

"Wow," Steve breathed. "Okay, so you know a lot more than I do."

"Do the fae have like their own city or country I could move to?" Robin asked.

"I don't know. If they do, it's probably hidden," Chrissy said. "There wasn't much in my mother's journal."

"Okay, let's do this shit. . .let's go find this Steve’s mommy or daddy. . .even more so now. Although, I suddenly realized that I'm going to be meeting my boyfriend's parent for the first time, and I hadn't even taken him on a date yet," Eddie said.

"And I just found out that my girlfriend neglected to tell me that she could get me pregnant," Nancy said.

"Oh! I'm so sorry! It slipped my mind. . .I was going to tell you, and then this happened," Chrissy said, looking guilty. "And besides, we can only get each other pregnant if we both wanted to. . .no accidents!"

"I figured you were going to say something like that when Mike barged into the house," Nancy said, wrapping an arm around her waist. "I'm messing with you, baby."

"I can get Steve pregnant!" Eddie yelped.

"Down boy, buy me dinner first," Steve said dryly.

"Okay, let's get to Lenora Hills before I get completely distracted," Eddie said. "Nancy, focus, and then we can study fae anatomy later. . ."

"I'm so getting a better grade than you," Nancy smirked, and Chrissy giggled.

"Fuck off, Wheeler!"

Lenora Hills, California. . .

"Fuck!" Eddie screamed.

He dropped Steve and Chrissy's hands immediately as he fell to his knees. Eddie bent over and began to make retching sounds. Steve pulled his hair back just as he vomited. He wiped Eddie's face with a tissue Chrissy gave him and helped him stand up. Eddie's whole body shuddered, and Steve wrapped his arms around him to hold him up. Steve watched as the other man's eyes turned purple.

"Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Is anyone else hearing music?" Eddie asked as blood gushed from his nose. "Did I just gain another level? Hmm, maybe it's something I ate."

Eddie's fading purple eyes rolled back into his head, and he collapsed into Steve’s arms. Steve picked him and held him close.

"I don't want to be a bummer, but I think Eddie missed by a few blocks," Robin said.

"Well, it was his first time performing the spell," Steve said. "Let's go."

They finally found the house they were looking for, and when they did, they discovered that the front door had been left wide open. Someone had clearly left in a hurry. When they entered, they found it in a stay of disarray, like someone had packed quickly. It was similar to the one in Indianapolis, except the furniture had been left behind. Drawers were opened and emptied. . .papers and takeout menus were littering the floor. Someone had clearly lived here a while, but it looked as though someone had left recently. Steve hurried to lay Eddie on the couch for a moment. He cleaned his face and listened closely to make sure he was just sleeping. He was.

"Is he okay?" Nancy asked.

"Yeah, just sleeping. That spell took a lot out of him," Steve replied. "Let him sleep, and we can look around. Maybe whoever left here is going to come back."

Of course, they searched the house for hours and came up with nothing. Robin, Nancy, and Chrissy let Eddie have the bedroom in the back, considering he drained his batteries getting them all to California. He laid Eddie on the bed and sprawled out next to him. He watched the man snore loudly before flopping onto his stomach. Steve ran his hand over his back, smiling when Eddie sighed in his sleep. He laid down on the pillow, wondering if his parent had laid their head on this very pillow. Steve closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Steve was dreaming. He was sure of it. He felt smaller than usual, and he was lying in a . . . Cage? No, a crib. He was a baby, and he was looking up at his mobile made of stars. A face appeared above him. It was a younger, fresher faced Bob Newby. He had hazel eyes just like Steve.

"He's made of stars just like you," Bob said proudly.

"Freckles and moles, my love," a garble voice said.

"Stars, stars to guide his way back to us," Bob said softly.

"He's not going to be like the others, I won't allow it," the voice said.

"There's more of them than there are of us," Bob said sadly. "It's happening more and more lately."

"Bobby. . ."

Wait, was his other parent British? Steve tried to reach for them as they moved closer to the crib.

"I'm right here," Steve tried to call out. "I'm right here!"

When he woke up, Eddie was staring at him.

"Hey, you feeling any better?" Steve asked as he immediately sat up.

"A little, but I don't think I'm at full power yet," Eddie said. "I'm fucking hungry."

"Yeah, okay, we get out of here, and we can find something to eat," Steve said.

"Just a moment," Eddie yawned.

He pulled Steve closer to him and nuzzled his neck. Eddie pressed his lips there, peppering his soft skin with tiny kisses. Steve sighed for a moment and leaned into it. He rolled over onto his side to face Eddie.

"Why are you going through all this trouble? I mean, I know you care about me, but we barely started whatever this is, and you're nearly killing yourself to help me," he said.

"I don't know. . .I mean, I guess it's because of the assumptions I made about you but also because I would give anything. . .chase any lead that gives me any hope that my mama's alive and looking for me. She's not, though. She's been dead for a long time. I can't do it for myself, but I can do it for you," Eddie replied.

Steve wrapped his arm around him, pulled him closer, and kissed him deeply. He poured every ounce of affection he had for the man into that kiss. He broke away and leaned his forehead against his.

"Come on, let's see what the girls are up to," Steve said.

They wandered into the kitchen to find Nancy, Chrissy, and Robin leaning over a phone book.

"Eddie!" Chrissy exclaimed. "How are you doing?"

"Better once I get some food in me," Eddie said.

"Well, we were actually going to order something. I was thinking pizza. Laura never lets me have any," Chrissy said.

"Pizza sounds fucking awesome," Eddie exclaimed.

As they waited for the pizza to arrive, they sat in the living room to discuss their options. Eddie still needed to recharge and get some food in him before doing any sort of spells. In the meantime, they wait it out here and see if the person comes back. Steve was trying not to get his hopes up, but the closer they got to find his parent, the more hopeful he got. Robin leaned over the arm rest of the couch. Nancy, Chrissy, and Eddie were talking amongst themselves.

"You doing okay?" Robin asked.

"Trying to keep it all in, you know?" Steve said and paused. "I had a dream about my dad, about Bob. I think it was a memory. I couldn't see my other parent, but I know they were British, and Bob said I was made of stars like them. They have moles like me. . .what else did I get from them? Will I ever see them again? Do they know what happened to Bob?"

"I'm sure that you'll find your way back to each other," Robin said.

"That's what Dad said. . .that my stars would guide my way back to them," Steve said. "It was happening to so many fae children. . . They knew it was going to happen to them."

"You're going to find each other," Robin said softly.

Before Steve could say anything else, the doorbell rang. Nancy went to answer it but paused when they heard arguing coming from the other side. Steve shared a look with Nancy.

"Is that Jonathan?" Steve asked.

"I didn't even think about it," Nancy laughed quietly. "I ordered from Surfer Boy."

"Argyle! What are the odds that my ex-girlfriend is here in Lenora Hills while my current boyfriend is the one delivering her pizzas?" they heard Jonathan yell. "It is not the same Nancy Wheeler. She's still in Hawkins."

"Man, fate has a funny way of bringing people together!" Argyle laughed loudly.

Nancy covered her giggle with her hand and went to answer the door, but Chrissy stopped her. Chrissy pulled the front door open and grinned.

"Hi, I'm Nancy Wheeler," she laughed.

"Oh, shit, man, you were right," Argyle said.

"No. . .that's Chrissy Cunningham. She goes to Hawkins High," Jonathan said.

"Oh, what are the odds?" He asked, and Jonathan elbowed him in the side.

Nancy nudged Chrissy out of the way and appeared in the doorway.

"Nancy?!" Jonathan asked.

"Hey, Jonathan," Nancy said meekly.

"What are you doing here?" He asked.

"It's a long story," Nancy said. "And I'll tell you later, I promise."

Jonathan looked at her doubtfully and then looked at Argyle before sighing. He knew that something strange was up, but he couldn't say it in front of Argyle. He accepted their tip and dragged Argyle back to the yellow van, leaving them with their pizzas. Once they ate, Eddie took a nap, and when he awoke again, he started to work on doing the location spell again. Eddie looked down at the paper and made a disgruntled sound with his mouth.

"What?" Steve asked.

"It says Hawkins, but it doesn't give me an address. . .just a bunch of random letters and numbers. It's like someone doesn't want us to know. . .hm, maybe there's a spell preventing us from knowing," Eddie said.

"Well, people place runes on the fae children to prevent the parents from finding them. Maybe they put runes on their houses too," Chrissy said.

"Shit, maybe it's my house or rather the Harringtons," Steve scoffed.

"Well, the only thing left to do is to check it out," Eddie said. "I'll start preparing the spell to travel back to Hawkins."

"Eddie, are you sure you're well enough for that?" Steve asked.

Eddie smiled. He cupped Steve’s face and pressed a hard kiss to his lips before he leaned his forehead against his.

"I'm fine, big boy."

Once they were in Hawkins, Eddie once again vomited and collapsed. They were just outside of Steve’s house. Steve picked him up and carried him into the house. Eddie's eyes fluttered open, and he groaned as he tried to sit up.

"Eddie!" Steve exclaimed. "You should be resting."

"I don't want to miss this," Eddie said sleepily, wiping the blood from under his nose.

Before Steve could say anything else, they heard a figure coming from upstairs. Everyone downstairs tensed up, preparing for a fight. A woman entered the room. Her hair was long and carmel colored with warm golden highlights like Steve’s with moles scattered across her tan skin. She had Steve’s nose and his lips, but her eyes were a bright blue. Her flowered colored dress was as blue as her eyes.

"You're my mom," Steve gasped.

"Today, anyway," she smiled Steve’s smile.

Steve ran into her arms without even thinking. She hugged him tightly, sobbing. This felt right. . .her hug held more warmth than the hugs he received from the Harringtons, theirs being nothing more than cold detachment. His mother's hug felt like home. He could feel her now, too, in the back of his mind. There were so many emotions going through his head, and there was one question that was on his forefront of his mind. He pulled back, tears in his eyes.

"I don't even know your name," Steve said.

"Farran Kelley," she laughed, tears in her own eyes, and she tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. "Oh, you have your father's eyes."

"Yours too," Steve grinned as he felt his eyes glow green.

Farran laughed as her eyes glowed green as well.

"Your father was a fairy too, you know," she chuckled, and her smile dropped. "He should be here. . ."

"I'm sorry. . .I was there. . . I mean, I didn't watch him die, but I was in the middle of all of it," Steve frowned.

"Well, we warned the humans for years about meddling with that world. . .if I had known you were in the middle of all of it. . .I missed so much," Farran said sadly. "You're so grown."

"There's so much left to teach me. I still don't know everything there is to know about being a fairy," Steve said.

"Oh, so many wonderful things," Farran said and cupped his face. "My sweet boy. . .however, did you get that rune removed?"

"That was me!" Eddie exclaimed, waving from his spot on the couch.

Farran peered around Steve with a grin. Steve moved beside Eddie, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Mom, this is - "

"Eddie, my God, you've grown so much!" Farran said delightfully. "I haven't seen you since you were an ankle biter."

"You know me!" Eddie exclaimed.

"I was mates with your mum," Farran said.

"You were at her funeral!" He realized. "If you were friends with my mom, then why would my dad. . .I know he's an asshole. . ."

"So, you figured out that he was the one who kidnapped my son?" She asked.

"Well, I had to remove the rune that was on his back, and I had to be blood related, so. . .and kidnapping fae children is the kind of shit my dad would do," Eddie scowled.

He sat all the way up, and Farran sat down next to him.

"Your father loved your mother very much. She was the only person in the world who could make him cut all his bullshit but even though he loved her. . .he still didn't treat her very well. He left her all the time, and I was there for her when she had all those miscarriages. She had complications when she gave birth to you, and after that, it was harder to get pregnant. I did what I could being a fae healer, but not even magic has the answers to everything. It's something your father could never understand. Lizzie and I became close when she got to town. I was there when Al refused to be. That's what really drove him mad. He couldn't forgive himself for it. When I became pregnant, Lizzie became so excited. She hoped our children would be friends. A few months after we had you, Steve was taken from us. I didn't believe it at the time that Al had anything to do with, but his jealousy had been too obvious over the years. He always thought there was something between Lizzie and I, but she had become enamored with someone else. Even though Bobby and I split up, my heart always belonged to him," Farran said.

"My father's a dick," Eddie spat, and then his furious face fell. "Is there anything redeemable about my dad?"

"There's a part of me that still hopes that his love for Lizzie, for you, and Wayne will wake him up, but the rational part of me knows that will probably never happen. You know that you look like him, but I always knew that you got your heart from your mother even when you were a child," Farran said. "It's not wrong to hope that your father might do the right thing by you or the right thing, period."

"It's a small world, isn't it? You were best friends with my mother, and now I'm dating your son," Eddie laughed, and then he slapped a hand over his mouth. "I've gotten a little too comfortable."

"It's alright," Steve grinned.

"Oh! That's wonderful," Farran gasped. "Oh, Lizzie would be so happy!"

"Don't get too excited, mom. It's only been - wait, what day is it?" Steve asked and paused. "Eddie's only recently found out he's a witch, but he's the reason we found each other at all. He's exhausted himself so much to do it."

"Definitely Elizabeth's son," Farran said fondly. "Oh, sweetheart, you look exhausted. We should probably get back to my house. Steve, we should probably get you back to our house."

"We have a house?" Steve asked.

"Well, your father's family home. It's nestled out in the woods," Farran said. "You and your friends are more than welcome to come with us."

"OH! Mom, these are my friends. Well, Nancy's my ex-girlfriend, but now she's one of my best friends," Steve said, and Nancy smiled softly at him. "This is Chrissy. She's also a kidnapped fae child."

"If you don't mind, how did you know Steve’s name?" Nancy asked. "Didn't he have a different one?"

"No, Steve is the name we gave him. It was my father's. I guess the Harringtons were too lazy to change it," she replied, scowling.

"Oh! And this is my best friend in the whole world, my platonic soulmate, Robin Buckley," Steve grinned.

"Hi, Steve’s mom!" Robin exclaimed, hitting his chest. "I told you would find each other, dingus!"

Farran laughed and hugged her tightly.

"So, we're going to your house then?" Eddie asked.

"Steve, is there anything that you want to bring?" Farran asked.

"Oh, I've been wanting to leave for a while now. What I need is already packed," Steve grinned and ran up the stairs.

He came back downstairs with his hands carrying two large suitcases. He had the largest grin on his face. Farran helped Eddie up while Chrissy did the same on his other side as Farran promised Chrissy that she would teach her all about being a fae.

"How are we getting there?" Eddie asked.

"By car," Farran said. "Why? Did you think I had a carriage being pulled by unicorns?"

"Well, now I don't," Eddie scoffed, looking disappointed.

"Unicorns live in Scotland," Farran replied with a laugh. "And are a protected species."

"They're real," Eddie gasped with delight.

Steve laughed as he followed them to the front door. He walked out the front door with them, leaving the name Harrington behind. The name Newby-Kelley slid back into place. He was going home.

Months later. . .After the spring break from hell. . .

Steve stumbled through the trees, clutching his sides. Despite all the medicines Farran used on his son, the bites still hurt.

"It's just up ahead," Steve said.

"So, why did you move?" Hopper asked.

"It's my family home," Steve said.

"Figures John Harrington has more than one home in Hawkins," Hopper snorted.

"John Harrington isn't my father," he sighed. "He never was. Him and his wife hired someone to kidnap me. This is my real family home."

"Jesus," Joyce said.

"It's okay. I found my parents. I mean, my father is dead, but my other father, who is also sometimes my mother, is very much alive and is waiting for us," Steve said.

"I'm lost," Hopper said.

"No, it's just up ahead," he replied.

"That's not what I - "

It was a spacious four bedroom cottage type house in the woods with a stone pathway leading up the front door. Vines covered the house, sealing over every opening as though they were protecting it. There were vines sprouting around the house like a bubble as well. Steve approached the vines, and his eyes glowed green. The vines moved to create a doorway for them.

"What the hell?" Jonathan asked. "Hey, does this have anything to do with you guys being in Lenora a few months ago?"

"You were in Lenora?" Joyce asked.

"We were tracking down my father," Steve said. "We had to come back to Hawkins, though, because he had been tracking me too and tracked my last location to the Harringtons. He was my mother then."

"I'm lost again," Hopper said.

"Man, we're here," Steve said. "How are you getting lost? You're right behind me."

Hopper sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Joyce laughed and patted his arm.

"I think he doesn't understand about your parent being both your mother and your father," Joyce said.

"Oh! Some faes can change their gender if they wish. Today, Farran Kelley is a man," Steve said. "He's been my father the last few weeks."

"Faes. . .as in fairies?" Will asked.

"Oh, yeah, I'm not human," Steve grinned. "Let's get inside, and we can talk about this."

They went inside the brick house where they were led into an open space living room and kitchen. On the other end of the house was a fireplace where a cool, blue fire crackled. The walls were lined with shelves, and the shelves were stuffed with books. Pictures hung on the walls very neatly. Sitting on the couch in front of the fire was Nancy. Robin and Vickie sat on either side of her, rubbing her back as she cried. Steve felt his chest tighten painfully. Mike pushed his way through the group and ran towards his sister. Farran came down the stairs with Dustin. It always startled Steve to see how much Farran looked like him as a man. It was a good thing, though.

"Holy shit, is that a picture of Bob?" Jonathan said as he glanced at a picture on the wall.

"It is," Joyce said. "Why do you have a picture of Bob?"

"He was my husband," Farran said. "And this was his family home."

"Bob never said he was married," Joyce said, frowning.

"Divorced. We split after Steve was taken from us," Farran said.

"Steve is Bob's son?!" Will asked.

"He never said. . . ," Joyce trailed off. "Actually, he said he didn't have kids he was aware of."

"Steve was kidnapped and hidden from us by wiccan magic. We searched for years, and then Bob stayed here, waiting for him to come home, never knowing he was right in front of us," Farran said softly.

"He does have Bob's eyes," she said as she smiled at the both of them.

"I'm glad Bobby had love in his life before he died," Farran said, patting her hand.

"Okay, tell us everything from the beginning," Hopper sighed.

Farran shared a look with his son before launching into the story.

". . . And we did everything we could, but Vecna overpowered us," Farran said.

"Eddie. . .," Steve choked. "He and Chrissy. . .they died."

Suddenly, everything was hurting. Eddie wouldn't be here anymore. Steve wouldn't wake up next to him. . .no more dinners with Farran, Wayne, and Eddie. It would he a somber affair now with a piece of their family missing. No Chrissy coming in with Nancy to join them. No more double dating with Nancy and Chrissy. No double wedding under fae law. They were supposed to travel to Saoradh, the hidden land of the fae, this summer. Not to get married yet (that was far off) but to view the beautiful land and all it had to offer. Chrissy and Steve were supposed to learn more about their magic, their ancestors. Now, Chrissy was gone, and so was Eddie. Eddie.

"I'm so sorry," Joyce said softly.

Steve glanced at Nancy, who was hugging Jonathan tightly. Argyle stood somberly off to the side. Nancy pulled away and shared a glance with Steve. They moved towards each other. Nancy threw her arm around Steve, still crying. Steve sniffled and wrapped his arms around Nancy. What was going to happen now?

"I am here now," El said. "And I am stronger than ever. I believe together we can destroy Henry."

Meanwhile, in the Upside Down. . .

A figure jumped down into the gate from the Munsons' trailer. The hooded figure moved outside and glanced at the red sky filled with lightning. He pulled the hood down. Al Munson moved through the Upside Down, not stopping until he came to his son's body. He fell to his knees and placed his hands on Eddie's cold forehead.

"I've fucked up, son. I've done everything wrong, and I let my anger get the best of me. I wasn't there for your mom, not the way I should have, and I spent so much time blaming other people. You shouldn't have had to pay for my mistakes. There's one thing that I did right, and that was bringing you into this world with your mom. There's one other thing that I could do, and that's bringing you back. . . I still have time. It's going to take everything that I've got," Al said. "I love you."

Al cut up his son's shirt and began painting runes on his chest. Al took off his shirt before painting the same rune on his chest. He opened his spellbook and began chanting. Al felt his lifeforce begin to flow out of him, purple light floating from his chest. With the spell, Al told it where to go. The light began to pour into Eddie's rune. The last bit of light escaped Al's body and went into his son's. He collapsed on the ground, and as he took his last breath, Eddie gasped for his. Eddie awoke, clutching his chest. Shit, didn't the bats eat him alive? There were no wounds. . .only purple scars. Eddie turned his head to find his father's lifeless eyes staring back at him.

"Dad?" Eddie asked and knelt over him. "Dad?!"

Eddie sobbed. He already knew what Al did for him. . .but why? Why?! Eddie hated him for so many reasons, but now he was grateful to him. It was twice now that this man gave him life. Eddie sat up and took his dad's hand only to discover there was a note in his palm.

"I know sorry isn't going to be enough for how much I fucked up. I let you down so many times. Let Lizzie down. If you've discovered what I've done. . .no apology is ever going to be good enough to make up for what I did to those kids. On this paper, there is a list of names. Kids I sold, witches who have also sold kids. . Do with it what you will. You're already a better man than I am. . .I love you, kid. I know wherever your mom is. She's proud of you. Your story isn't over yet."

A couple of hours later. . .

Everyone stood their ground in the woods. Steve was fighting off the demogorgons and the demobats. His father was fighting beside him. Red lightning flashed over head. Steve held his nailbat, his eyes glowing green as emerald flames erupted around his bat. He swung the bat and hit a demogorgon. It whimpered as it hit the tree and exploded into green flames. More demogorgons came out from the trees, ready to pounce. The party was surrounded. The demogorgons launched themselves into the air.

"ENOUGH!" Henry's voice rang out.

They all heard him but they couldn't see him. The demogorgons paused, standing before them and waiting for their next orders. Steve scanned the treelines for any sign of the bastard. Silence fell as the party gathered together in a circle, back to back. Dustin was one side of him while Farran was on the other. Suddenly, they heard footsteps move closer, the snapping of branches echoing throughout the forest. She appeared, her eyes red and her smile menacing.

"Chrissy," Nancy gasped.

Fred followed after her, then came Patrick, and finally, Max.

"Max," Lucas gasped and moved to get to her, but Nancy grabbed his arm.

"Let me introduce you to my wonderful puppets. . .why would I kill them when I can use them for their power? Oh, I would have gotten to you too, Steve. . .if it hadn't been for Eddie. . .I had to do away with him - "

Suddenly, Henry was cut off by the sound of music. . .specifically the strumming of a guitar. Purple smoke, flashing with light, started to spill through the trees.

"What the fuck?" Will asked.

The purple smoke surrounded Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Max. Amongst the smoke, their eyes turned a bright, furious green. The smoke swirled around the bats and the demogorgons as well.

"NO! NO! NO!" Henry screamed as he appeared through the smoke. "WHAT IS THIS?!"

A shadowy figure appeared and started moving towards them. The music got louder and louder until a person appeared carrying a guitar covered in runes. Steve grinned at the familiar guitar and at the ring covered hands playing them. He recognized those hands. He came out of the smoke like a god, his eyes a furious purple and his grin feral. He was shirtless and covered in runes.

"Eddie," Steve gasped.

Eddie grinned and began to sing his spells. He was an angel and devil. Both menacing and beautiful. Steve was ready to get down on his knees for Eddie right then and there. The demogorgons and the demobats turned on Henry. Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Max all turned on him as well.

"NO! YOU'RE SUPPOSE TO BE MINE!" Henry screamed.

"We belong to no one," Chrissy said.

Her hands lit up with green flames. She Fred's then Fred took Patrick's, and then Patrick took Max's. All their hands glowed with a bright green flame, and they shot out at Henry. The green flames encircled him, and he screamed as they began licking at him, burning his flesh. The demogorgons growled and dove into the flames along with the demobats. They all began tearing at his flesh, not caring that they were dying in the process. They all watched the flames until everything died out. Henry Creel was dead. The purple smoke was gone now, and the skies had cleared. Lucas rushed to Max immediately, hugging her tightly. Max crashed her lips to his. Nancy ran to Chrissy and immediately jumped into her arms, wrapping her legs around her waist. She kissed Chrissy deeply, shaking with sobs. Chrissy gripped Nancy's thigh and pressed her up against a tree to steady her. Steve stood and stared at Eddie in shock. The runes disappeared from him and his guitar. Eddie gave his guitar to Dustin.

"I'm real, big boy," Eddie said softly.

Steve let out a sob, and Eddie pulled him close. He dipped Steve and kissed him. Unable to keep their balance, Steve and Eddie stumbled to the ground.

"Well, hell, is anyone going to kiss us?" Patrick asked.

"We could kiss each other," Fred joked.

Patrick stared at him, and the smile slipped off of Fred's face. Patrick grinned as he looked him up and down.

"Yeah, okay, you're cute," Patrick said.

"What?! I mean. . .yeah!"

FIVE YEARS LATER. . .Saoradh. . .

Steve couldn't believe he was here, standing in his homeland with Chrissy, Eddie, and Nancy. Robin brought Vickie as well. All of their family and friends were there, including all of the fae children they had saved over the years. It had taken Eddie, Steve, Chrissy, and Nancy traveling in a cramped RV all over the country to find them all. Eddie hadn't been able to use his magic all the time. He was still amazed every time they came here. Steve gazed at the purple and pink sky, sighing happily. This is it.

"You nervous?" Robin's voice asked.

"Not at all," Steve grinned.

"He's totally nervous," Dustin said.

He pulled his head from the window and back into the small wooden building. He turned towards Robin and Dustin, glaring playfully.

"I'm ready for this," Steve said and tucked his hair behind his ears.

He clipped the fairy wings to his ears and checked his makeup in the mirror one last time. It had been centuries since the fae had lost their wings, but they still made sure to remember they once had them. Steve adjusted his yellow suit. It had been tough choosing between the suit and the fairy wedding robes, especially since the robe had lovely flowing sleeves. Steve chose the suit because his ass looked great in the pants, and he loved to see Eddie drool. Steve was more than willing to wear the jewelry, and if he knew Eddie, which he did, he had chosen the long flowing robes. Farran popped her head in, wearing fairy robes with glittering and moving flowers. Her carmel hair was piled on top of her head, with strands of hair framing her face.

"Oh, you look so beautiful, my love," Farran gasped.

"Thanks, Mama," Steve grinned. "You look beautiful too."

"Oh, I can't believe this is happening. Bobby and Lizzie should be here to see this," Farran said tearfully.

"In a way, I think they are," Steve grinned. "I feel them."

Farran patted his cheek and pulled him down to kiss his forehead.

"Are you ready?" She asked.

"Yeah."

Farran took his arm and led him outside. Dustin ran ahead to stand beside Eddie as his best man. Robin took Steve’s other arm.

"Hey, you're supposed to be my best man," Steve said in amusement.

"I've decided to give you away as well," Robin said. "I feel like it's my right as your platonic soulmate."

Farran and Steve laughed. Farran and Robin led Steve towards a cluster of trees. The tree branches moved aside, opening up to a large clearing where a lot of people were gathered. Eddie was up there already, Wayne crying and trying to get him to settle down. He adjusted Eddie's red, long flowing robes before stepping aside. Dustin was grinning with tears in his eyes. There was a large space next to them where Fred was standing up as Nancy's best man, and Patrick was standing up as Chrissy's. The music had already started. Nancy appeared first in her pastel blue suit, and her wild curls set loose. Ted and Karen stood on either side of her, crying. Steve watched as they led her down the aisle, and he laughed when Eddie high fived her before she got in place.

Next came Chrissy in her pink pastel suit, and her strawberry blonde hair loose around her shoulders. Argyle was happily giving her away, laughing when Eddie high fived her too. Finally, Steve was next. Farran and Robin guided him down the aisle where Eddie was waiting for him. With tears in his eyes, Steve couldn't help but think about how all of this started. Eddie had been in robes then, too, clueless about the unknown. He had guided Steve home, led him to discovering the truth about himself, and in the process, they had done so much good. It doesn't matter where you were, really, the people who were the most important to you, they were what made a house a home. As Steve walked towards Eddie, he had the same feelings as he did the day he met Nancy, the day Dustin came into his life, the same emotions swirling around him when he became friends with Robin and it was like when he hugged his mom for the first time since he was a baby. The truth of the matter. . .is that coming home happens more than once, and Steve was lucky to get so many.

[chelseasdagger]

Behind the Red in My Eyes

Mikey Berzatto x Reader

Summary: Mikey comes home, yet again, exhausted after a long shift at The Beef. You offer him some encouraging words and his favorite touch to unwind.

Warnings: cursing

Author's Note: This is my first entry for @bernthirst-events's Beardthal Bash! I had this idea for a while, but I ended up writing way more plot than was needed oops! I still hope there was enough mention of the beard to count!

Word Count: 2.9k+

Mikey Berzatto took pride in his work. It may not be the most glamorous job, but he put countless hours into the family restaurant that he tries so hard to keep afloat. It’s one of your favorite things about him—how much heart he puts into everything he does.

The only downside is how often you’re stuck missing him while the apartment grows too quiet as the hours pass. You have the schedule of The Beef’s hours ingrained in your mind, tacking on the extra time it takes to close up at night. But all the counting does little to stop the frequent checking of the clock on your phone’s lockscreen.

You were thankful when he worked up the deal with Carmy to split some of the necessary management time at the sandwich shop—if you could call it management time. It would be more truthful to call it “babysitting”, taking into consideration the hotheadedness of the staff. And let's be honest, leaving the restaurant in the hands of Richie Jerimovich? Absolutely not.

But, as much as the Berzatto brothers meant well, this plan didn’t last. It worked for a while, Mikey taking the mornings and helping with opening the store so that around the time that the menu changed, Carmy could come in and work until close. They figured it would be the best way to not overwork themselves but still put a healthy amount of time into their family business.

And then one day it was too busy for Mike to come home. Since then, there hasn’t really been a fix to the original plan. You miss him a lot and definitely wish you could see him more, but you feel so much pride swelling in your chest each time you think of how hard he works for that little brick building. No amount of missing him could outweigh that feeling—or how your face feels as if it might split in two when you sneak into the restaurant and see how happy he is to be there.

Nine times out of ten, you walk in and see his smile brightening the whole room as his infectious laugh fills the air. His eyes would be squinted into thin lines as his head falls back and he clutches his chest for a breath. He always cared about the people and wanted everyone to feel welcome there no matter their background or history. You loved seeing him like this and kept these memories at the front of your mind whenever it got harder to be patient on the long nights alone.

Your phone is in your hand before you can even register it. A habit I need to break, you remind yourself, but your screen shows the time anyway. Quarter after midnight. You place the phone down on the coffee table with a sigh, exchanging it for the book that your friend swore you had to read.

Tucking your finger between the pages and your bookmark, you open up the book and scan the printed words until you can jog your memory of the last thing you read. Once you find your place, you tuck your legs to your chest and lazily tug the blanket down from the back of the couch to cover yourself. It doesn’t take long before your surroundings begin to fade and the words paint a picture in your mind.

You look up from your book at the sound of keys jingling inside the metal deadbolt on your apartment door. What time is it? A second later the door is opening and there stands Mikey. He sighs as he holds onto the doorframe before pressing the toes of one foot to the heel of the other, taking his shoes off before bending down to place them beside the entrance.

When he stands back up you finally get a good look at him in the lamplight. His shoulders are slouched, his whole body a portrait of exhaustion. He’s rubbing his knuckles sleepily at his eyes, setting the keys down on the small table beside him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you call to him as his footsteps gently sound out on the wooden floors. He finally glances over to the couch once he notices you and the smile that stretches over his face is tired, yet genuine.

“Hey, baby,” he whispers back to you. His voice is hoarse, mostly likely due to all the yelling in the chaotic kitchen he’s spent the whole day inside of. It’s almost as if his words are caught in his chest, sounding out deep and warm when he speaks. He makes his way to the couch, leaning over the back of it, and placing a quick peck of his lips on your forehead.

As soon as you feel it, he’s gone, making his way to the kitchen in the next room over. You can immediately tell something is off; Mikey gets quiet after a long day of being the loudest guy in the room, but he’s not usually reserved in his affection towards you.

The blanket you were wrapped up in slowly slides down your chest and onto your lap as you sit up against the arm of the couch. You question whether you should push it, but something in your gut wouldn’t leave it be.

“Mikey? You okay?” you call out towards the kitchen. The sound of him closing cupboards echoes through the space next. He makes his way to the fridge, opening it before leaning inside and scanning the leftovers from the meals you make while he’s out.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he responds monotonously, pulling away with a glass container in his hand. The slightly blue lighting shines across his face, illuminating his features in a cold hue. It looks almost intentional, as if to reflect his mood. “What is this?”

“Baked ziti from last night. I’m here for you, Bear, you know that right?” You don’t miss a beat, purposefully choosing not to fall for his distraction of mentioning the food. You watch as he pauses for a moment, setting the food down on the counter and closing the fridge before walking back towards you. You never want to push him or demand he open up to you, but you also want him to know he can lean on you if need be.

A heavy sigh leaves him as he sinks down onto the cushion beside you, one arm resting along the length of the couch, the other propping his head up in his palm. You can see all the evidence of his tiring day of work now that he’s closer to you: the dark grease stains along the bottom of his blue shirt, the marks under his eyes indicating he didn’t sleep enough, the new bandage wrapped around his thumb. All signs point to a draining, most likely not rewarding, day.

Gently reaching out for his wrist, you pull his larger hand into yours. “What happened here?” He moves with you, turning his palm face up as you let your index finger gently trace over his skin. The bandage is uneven, and you can see the faint maroon marking under the tan color.

“Was a uh,” he begins, sighing as he rubs at his eyes with the knuckles of his free hand. “Was an accident. Cousin called me while I was choppin’ onions and, well,” he gestures to his injured thumb. You feel your features change as he speaks, the words painting a clear picture in your head of him in the kitchen as he gets hurt.

“I’m so sorry, Mikey,” you whisper in the small space between the two of you. Your own fingers drag down the inside of his arm, trailing over scars from accidental fryer burns and playing rough outside with Carmy when he was younger. All the little markings on his skin have little stories behind them, and you cherish the boisterous laughter that comes from him when he tells the tales.

“S’alright, baby, happens all the time,” he attempts to reassure you. The tone surrounding his words falls flat and leaves you with the same weariness in your mind. Glancing up at his face, you see the tired lines under his eyes and the way he stares out at nothing while his mind wanders.

Curling your fingers around him tighter, you bring his hand up to your face and place a gentle kiss right under the bandage. It takes him another moment to react due to the other thoughts trailing around in his mind. When he finally glances over, his eyes are fixed on your lips pressing against him, the small peck sending a wave of warmth through him. You continue staring up at him from under your eyelashes; the sigh that leaves him makes his chest deflate when his gaze locks with yours.

“Thank you,” he murmurs softly, a sad smile on his face.

“Is there anything else I can do to help?” you ask, wanting to try and improve his mood. He twists his back and adjusts himself against the couch.

“Nah, nah, baby, it’s okay. It’ll heal up,” he answers dismissively. It’s clear he didn’t pick up on the other meaning of your question, so you try wording it another way.

“No I didn’t mean the cut, Mikey.” His eyebrows pull together, confusion painted all over his features. “I can see how tired you are,” you continue, watching him sigh again and prepare to defend himself. “I just want to take some of the weight off your shoulders, is all. I’m not gonna say to cut your hours back, I know you can’t do that but…” you find your words trailing off when he reaches up to drag his palm down his face.

“You have to at least take care of yourself,” you whisper the final words as his hand drops to his lap. There’s a silence that lingers over the room and you’re worried you’ve overstepped in suggesting the restaurant being the source of a good portion of his stress.

“You’re right,” he speaks up, and you feel the tension leaving your body almost instantly. “You’re right, I just don’t… think about it?” his tone rises at the end, twisting the sentence into more of a question. His eyes find yours again and you give him a slight nod, wordlessly encouraging him to continue.

“It just… It’s always been the restaurant first, y’know? Like if that goes under then I’ve got nothing left. And then all the things everybody says about me are true.” He finishes the last sentences with an exasperated breath. Your heart sinks at his words, especially after spending one too many family dinners at his mother’s house and hearing how they treat him and his impulsivity. You want to defend him, but choose not to interrupt his venting.

“And nobody in my family knows how to slow down. I mean, shit, look at Carm,” he chuckles dryly as he shakes his head. “Nearly fuckin’ killed himself out in New York. Mom doesn’t have her head screwed on straight, doesn’t know what’s going on half the fuckin’ time. It just—.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, his head hanging low in his hands.

There’s a quick sniffle before he’s raking his fingers through his hair roughly. He sits up and stares down at his fingers, anxiously picking at the skin around his nails. Every fiber in your being screams to reach out to him and comfort him, and this time you listen to your instincts.

“Mikey,” you start, gently placing your hand on his forearm and pulling him towards you. His body falls and you feel his weight instantly pressing into your shoulder. Slumped against you like this, his body heat instantly warms up your side and you melt in turn.

“I know you might not know how to take those breaks, but we can work through it together,” you attempt to calm him. “It might not be easy at first but we can just take it one day at a time, yeah?” You glance down at your shoulder to see him staring up at you with half closed eyes. He slowly blinks before finally registering that you asked him a question.

“I like that plan,” he says eventually. His lips part as a yawn takes over and you smile as his eyes scrunch up while his jaw drops open.

“Oh, poor baby…” you chuckle under your breath. His face rests back in his natural position, but his eyes remain shut. He looks so peaceful like this that it makes your heart warm. Admittedly, it’s been too long since you’ve seen him truly relaxed like this. The last few times must’ve been when you were waking up in the night and happened to catch him asleep.

Stolen glances in the middle of the night aren’t enough, you decide. Adjusting your body on the couch, you angle yourself so your back is against the arm of the couch and your legs extend down the length of the cushions. You pull his body between your legs, guiding his head down to rest on your chest.

“You know none of that shit they say is true… right?” you ask softly as you let your fingers trail down his neck and smoothe down his back. He may not look like it, but Mike is one of the biggest suckers for physical touch—specifically cuddling.

He only hums in response, but still you continue. “The restaurant wasn’t a bad idea, baby. I think it’s sweet you kept something in the family name.” You drag your nails down his broad back softly and feel him sigh deeply, the leftover tension finally leaving his body.

“‘M pretty sure you’re the only one who thinks that,” he mumbles out, not bothering to lift his head from you. 

“I swear to god the next time Uncle Lee, or whoever, opens their god damn mouth I’m gonna be the one to throw a fork.” The next thing you feel is Mikey’s laughter shaking you, his rumbly chuckle sounding out in the quiet room. You let yourself smile at the pleasant sound, pressing your fingers into the junction where his neck meets his shoulders. With each push of your fingertips, you try to get rid of those pesky knots of stress that his body is unconsciously clinging on to.

“Seriously though,” you start again, wrapping your arms around his head this time, “we’ll figure it all out. I just want you to rest for now.” You tilt your head down and press your lips to the top of his head. You shut your eyes and try to focus on this moment: the feeling of his body weighing on your torso, his hot breath gently fanning over your arm, his scent relaxing you with each inhale you take.

You let your fingers wander, scratching your nails around his scalp under his hair. There’s a raspy groan that leaves him next and the sound has butterflies​​ suddenly coming to life in your stomach. A giggle slips out from between your lips as you ask, “Feels that good?”

Something bumps the side of your palm as you continue to play with his hair and you reach for it blindly. You try your hardest not to let disappointment wash over you as you stare at the cigarette between your fingers.

“I thought we weren’t doing this anymore, Mikey bear,” you speak in a whisper. A little less than a week ago, Mike decided to stop smoking and using drugs. You knew he could do it but you also knew how big of a step he was taking, so you tried giving as much support as you could offer. He tilts his head up at your voice and looks at you with confusedly. He glances down at the tightly rolled paper in your grasp before shaking his head gently.

“That’s from this morning, baby. Cousin offered it when he clocked in and I didn’t want to say no and have him asking a bunch of fuckin’ questions,” he explains exasperatedly. “But no, I-I didn’t smoke today.” His words are bathed with sincerity even through the tired rasp of his tone.

Your face lights up instantly, pride swelling in your chest once you realize that he kept his promise to you—his promise to himself. You can’t even imagine how difficult it must be to cut everything out like that, but you know he’s going to feel better in the long run because of it.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” you whisper as your fingers brush down his sideburns and begin to smooth out over his beard. “You’re doing so much and I see it.” You worry your words fall flat, but you also know how sometimes all you want is for someone to say that they notice the work you’re doing.

“Thank you.” You believe for a second that you imagined the words due to the barely audible breath that surrounds them. He reaches up to hold your wrist before turning his head to kiss the back of your hand. Sweet moments like this make your heart melt for him and how gentle he can be. There’s not much else to say so the both of you sit in silence, comforted by the presence of the other.

Your nails drag along the short hair that decorates his jaw and you watch his eyes flutter close for the last time. As you wrap your other arm across his chest and pull him closer, you smile at the sound of his soft snores filling the air. The ends of his facial hair tickle your fingertips but you continue gently scratching, wanting to give him a comforting touch to fall into an even deeper sleep.

“Rest up, baby boy,” you whisper as you kiss his head one final time.

[hutchersonsgurl]

fuck it were getting back together -Mike Schmidt

paring x Fem reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒】: 18+; mdni | profanity, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v, degradation, choking, ( not edited)

summary: your ex-Mike calls you for a booty call 😏

"Hey, bring your fine ass over here. Abby is staying the night at a friend's house tonight, and I'm drunk, and I need you here." Mike slurred over the phone.

You look over at the clock and see it's three in the morning since you and Mike split. The two of you mostly just see each other for booty calls because neither of you wants someone else to touch each other.

"Alright, fine, I'll be there in 5 minutes, you respond.

"Alright, good, don't keep Daddy waiting," he says, and then hangs up the phone.

You know you shouldn't go over there because the morning after, he acts like a dick, but deep down, you know you miss him like crazy.

You hop in the shower and spray his favorite perfume on your body, then get dressed and hop in your car.

5 minutes later

You arrive at Mike's house, and he answers the door and lets you in. You see the empty beer bottles on the table, and you can already tell that he's really drunk. You are in the kitchen cleaning up his mess as Mike comes from behind you.

"God, that ass is so damn fine. Why did I let you go?" He asks as he grabs your sides and spins you around. Are you facing him now?

Your leaning against the counter. "I mean, you're the one who said you didn't want me anymore, Mike." I respond, looking at him in his puppy dog eyes.

"So we are clear, that's a fucking lie," Mike says. His hand moved down to your neck, giving it a gentle squeeze before he leaned forward, crushing his lips against yours.

For a moment, there was just dry pressure and an awkward clash of teeth. His hands found your upper arms, hoisting you up the counter. You could smell the alcohol on his breath, but you didn't care; nobody could make you feel the way he did.

He grabs you by the back of your neck and shoves his mouth on yours. The two of you are fully making out now. His grip on you loosened briefly, his tongue slipping out of your mouth as he mumbled gruffly against your lips.

"You have no fucking idea how much I need you to be inside of you," he says with his lips against yours.

He let the words hang in the air for a second before crashing his lips back onto yours. Nudging your head to the side, he ravaged your neck with a series of wet kisses interspersed with sharp nips of his teeth. Mouth swiftly moving down your neck, hungrily marking any exposed patch of skin he had access to. With one hand entangled in your hair and the other securing your waist, he systematically disheveled your composed appearance. The bruises and bite marks adorning your neck conveyed a clear message: it was clear you were still his no matter what.

Mike bites his lip, and he gets down on his knees, his brown eyes looking up at you while his hands find their way to your hips, long fingers gently hooking themselves under your waistband. His throat bobbed once, a subtle rise and fall before he spoke up: I need to taste you; let me taste you, he said with a purr in his voice.

Your jeans and pants fell to the floor with a muffled thud that was barely registered; the only sound was the pounding of your own heart. Mike looked like he was a kid in a candy store, licking his lips with his hands placed firmly on your knees as his head dipped between your thighs.

“Fuck.. I’ve barely even touched you, and you're already drenched. Look how bad you want me, he muttered, his lips grazing over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

You gasped, your eyes fluttering open to glance down at him. His nose was gently bumping against your cunt. He used his tongue to lick both sides of your folds, driving your insides crazy. "Mike, I need you so bad," you mutter out in a moan.

"Daddy's got you," Mike answers. Then he licked a hot stripe between your folds. clenching the countertop with both hands behind you while letting out a loud moan.

Mike dipped his head to nibble teasingly at your clitoral area. "Mmm you taste so damn good," he inhaled deeply before diving back between your thighs. “So fucking delicious,” he groaned, words reverberating against your throbbing core. You can't take anymore. You pull him back up by his shirt and start undoing his pants and pulling down his pants and boxers, letting them hit the floor. He kicks them off. "Mike, please just get inside of me now," you beg. "Only because you asked so nicely," Mike answers with a smirk.

He pulled up his cock and slowly stroked it, and then, aligning himself with your entrance, he shoved his cock inside of you.

The moment he slid inside, you both let out a simultaneous groan. The sensation of his hot, panting mouth at your ear and his sack smacking rhythmically against your cunt was so exquisitely sinful yet heavenly that you'd willingly descended into the deepest depths of hell for it. to have him inside of you only

“Mnngh! O-oh..-” He pressed in deeper and circled his hips, squelching inside you as louder moans escaped your mouth.

“You really are...” he chuckled, his voice strained, “my hot little slut. So fucking greedy for Daddy’s cock. You know that? I love it.” He reached around you, slowly curling his fingers around your windpipe possessively.

"Tell me, I'm the only one who can have you," he says in between thrusts.

"Yeah, your the only one, daddy." A guttural moan ripped from your chest when his tip pressed right up against your cervix.

"That's damn right, your mine"He pressed himself so deep inside you could feel his every throb and twitch, his eagerness to pump you full.

Hand sliding down to press between your hipbones, grazing against the slight bulge on your belly as his cock settled in there, where it belonged. He paused for a second to keep himself from coming too soon, tugging irritably at his balls to adjust.

As he panted into your sweat-slicked shoulder, you took the advantage to ease to your forearms and work yourself back on his cock.

Arching your back like a cat, you made languid figure eights with your hips. The wet schlick shlick sounds of your cunt swallowing his cock and your combined moaning ricocheted off the pantry walls, a steady cadence.

A downright animalistic groan escaped his lips.

“Oh my f-fuck...”

Nothing was sexier than Mike claiming you as his. Mike is moaning in your ear as he neared climax, which was a filthy, sinful delight. Abandoning all efforts to last longer, Mike went completely feral. He gauged his nails into your hips with bruising force as he scrambled for control. With each powerful thrust, you try your best to keep squeezing the counter so you don't fall down, weak in the knees.

He drove into you again and again. His movements became sloppy and less calculated as he neared his peak.

"Cum for me, baby girl," he grunted.

“Oh god… Mike You wailed as you reached your climax, clenching his cock tight with your slick channel as he drove into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt before releasing a torrent of thick, warm cum inside you.

He bucked his hips languidly a few more times, spending himself in a series of residual jerks inside you. Meanwhile, his hand stayed pressed to your belly, rubbing circles as his cock continued to twitch and spasm, grinding his creamy cum as deep as it could go.

Heavy breathing. Wet, sloppy kisses on the nape of your neck and your shoulder. The lingering scent of exotic spice mixed with sex heavy in the air

"Fuck, this is getting back together, he huffed.

wow kinda went hard for this one

First post back from my break

hope ya'll like it

not edited so please don't hate me ):

[kiirotoao]

HEYYYY HANA! It's me olive/livy/ hey you/ that one person that always joins your lives I had a recent interaction with a more toxic mileven shipper but they said something that really did make me think so I want your thoughts in their words they said "mileven has been cannon for 8 years now why would they end it all at once" they had said this in the middle of a debate and it really got my thinking like would the duffers really end a relationship that has been built on for 8 years for byler? Plz lemme know what you think

OMG HI YOU 🤭 I’d be delighted to give my two cents, thanks for coming to me, Olive!!

Ah, yes. The age old argument of ‘why would the Duffers break up Mleven after building them up all this time?’ To which I say - what build up does one truly speak of? Yes, they’ve been canon romantic from season 1 since that kiss, technically, but their relationship only became truly canon since season 3. And yes, the show has been in production for about 8 years, but the show spans only about 3 years (1983-1986). Even then, to say that Mleven has been canon for that long just isn’t true. In total, they’ve only spent about 6 months together physically in canon (the fall, spring, and, summer of 1985 just before season 3 starts), and 6 months together long-distance (the summer, fall, and spring of 1986).

Point is, they’ve not been together as long as it seems. They’ve expressed interest from the start, but even then, on El’s side, it’s pretty debatable to me.

Take this scene where El literally asks Mike, “will you be like my brother?” I think I can just leave that there as it is.

Now, I do understand the notion that they’ve been in writing for 8 years. But guess who else have been? Mike and Will. Their relationship is just as if not more important to each other’s growths as characters, especially in season 4.

If you’re looking for canon relationships, look no further than Mike and Will’s friendship. If you need to see clear pictures of encouragement, understanding, and amendment, look no further than everything they’ve done for each other over the years.

All in all, I believe that just because you aren’t directly in a relationship with someone doesn’t mean that the current chemistry is void and only counts when you do get together.

Byler have chemistry, that’s why I think that they could easily get together. And by contrast, Mleven don’t. Throughout the seasons that Mike and El have been together, it’s been a struggle for them to connect. Whenever they do, it’s shallow. Take the reunion in season 4 - El is lying to Mike about being friends with Angela, and Mike is lying to El through his split focus on Will (when he complains about Will “rolling [his] eyes,” “moping,” “basically [sabotaging] the whole day”).

Mike is clearly affectionate to El, but he consistently dotes on her looks and never her character beyond her powers. El is clearly affectionate to Mike, too, but it’s clear to me that any time she reaches out to Mike, wrote to him, tried to talk to him in the void, anything, he just couldn’t seem to reach her in return.

Meanwhile, we have Byler promising to go “crazy together.” They sit and listen to each other. Meeting Will is “the best thing that [Mike has] ever done.” Mike thereafter in that scene talks about Will’s persistence. And we know that Will thinks of Mike as a leader, “guiding, inspiring.” Not only are they affectionate to each other, they’re comfortable expressing themselves around each other, highlighting each other’s positive traits, encouraging, supporting, connecting.

Need some people be reminded that filmwork is essential to TV, and so canonically Mike and Will also have many moments together. It’s not like their relationship isn’t known to us in canon (let alone blocked very specifically, too!).

So yeah, to that statement of “Mleven has been canon for 8 years now” so “why would they end it all at once” I say: it’s only been two years maximum in canon, and they’ve been founded on a deteriorating relationship with another much stronger one right in our faces, so no, yeah, Byler is very possible and wouldn’t be sudden in the slightest.

[shares-a-vest]

Robin and Dustin fight for the passenger door as Eddie pops in the back, scoffing and slamming the door.

"Hey, hey!" Steve yells, leaning over the console to open the door himself.

"Steve! Make him stop!" Robin demands, voice shrill as she squishes her grocery bag up against the door so she can't free up her hands to playfully slap-fight Dustin.

"Jesus Christ," Eddie curses.

Steve hears the unmistakable sound of a can opening in the back and he rolls his eyes. Eddie promised he wouldn't buy beer or whatever soda it is he's obsessing over this week.

Robin knocks Dustin's signature hat off and he screeches.

"Stop!" Steve begs, attempting to move over further but his seatbelt yanks him back. "Robin gets shotgun!"

The duo outside pauses. Robin pokes her tongue out and follows up with a childish gaffaw. The pair stand in silence, glaring at each other until Dustin snatches away the grocery bag.

Robin scrambles into the car, clips in her seatbelt and manually locks her door in one fluid motion.

"You do realise you waste time every single day with this?" Eddie says as Dustin hops in the back and slaps his baseball cap back on.

"Robin has been shotgun all week!" Dustin shoots back.

Can no one excerise any volume control in this car!

Steve shoots Robin a disapproving look as he fires up the engine. There's a crinkling of the grocery bag and Steve looks in the rear vision mirror but he can't quite see what Dustin and Eddie are clambering for.

"Starting next week, I'm making a schedule that everyone will follow. No exceptions."

"What if it's an emergency?" Robin asks, tenting her fingers like it's the most obvious follow up question.

"I reeeeefuse to sit in the back with Mike, Lucas and Henderson all stinking up the car after school," Eddie so helpfully adds.

"Hey!" Dustin whines, moving the bag away from Eddie.

There's more rustling and crinkling, followed by loud chewing.

"Yeah," Robin agrees, reaching in the back. "I agree on that one."

"Hey!"

"I'll figure it out!" Steve snaps, waving his hand as of to wave away the endless mitigating factors these idiots will surely conjure up of he doesn't stop them.

He looks over to his best friend, tinkling the foil back on a god damn Easter egg before shoving it into her mouth. She gags.

"Ew! This chocolate is awful, Eddie!"

"No it isn't."

Steve does a double take.

"Wait, did I send you three into the grocery store with a clear and organised list, only for you to buy Easter eggs!"

"I also bought beer," Eddie clarifies, belching.

"I mean, pretty much," Dustin shrugs, opening a packet of crisps.

"A weekend of nothing but junk food then?" Steve asks.

Although he doesn't know why he's bothering. This is what he gets for trying to assign errands.

He looks at Robin, so annoyed that he feels like his eyes are going to pop out of his skull.

"Did you get something for me to make for dinner, at the every least, Robs?"

"I don't do vegetables," Eddie chimes, again not helping.

This is what he gets for expecting his boyfriend to just automatically back him up in the face of Robin and Dustin being the most annoying versions of themselves.

He turns a corner into the main road of Loch Nora and hears the distinct sound of liquid dripping on the floor.

"Oops," Eddie mumbles.

Okay yeah, he's just as annoying as the other two.

"Can't we get pizza?" Dustin asks, jostling Robin's seat enough that she lazily slaps at the brim of his hat, threatening to knock it off again.

"I promised Claudia I wouldn't just feed you junk all weekend."

"But pizza has vegetables!" he argues.

"Technically Henderson is correct, there, Steve-o," Robin adds.

And for the first time this afternoon, the pair agree on something... They both nod.

"I could go for pizza," Eddie wonders aloud. "Pepperoni. No vegetables in sight!"

He leans forward and chomps the last word directly into Steve's ear, retreating with a giggle.

"Trust me," Steve begins, making sure to catch Eddie's eye in the rearview mirror and of course, he's grinning like an idiot. "You get your serving of vegetables."

A silence promptly falls over the Beemer.

Robin stifles a laugh, Eddie blushes scarlet and Dustin leans into the front cabin, eyebrows raised sky-high.

Dear god, that isn't what he meant.

"I sneak vegetables into Eddie's food!" he insists, shrugging.

"What!" Eddie screams so loud Steve almost swerves off the road mere seconds from his driveway.

[boytoyhalo]

Can you give me your fitpac headcanons to make me feel better after whatever the fuck Bad's stream was today. I am so unwell...

absolutely i can!!! let's see here hmm

pac likes to sleep/cuddle with fit sprawled out directly on top of him, like actively crushing him, because the deep pressure makes him feel safe (i think I said this in a different post but accidentally switched the names around, tho tbh i could see this being true both ways so maybe they take turns)

pac's ring markings glow bright blue when he's flustered or startled (see my blue ringed octopus hybrid pac headcanon) fit discovered this for the first time with the "how you doin big daddy" incident and since then fit has been going out of his way to sneak up on pac to make it happen because he thinks it's cute, this is also part of why he's gotten more confident with his flirting

fit would never say it out loud (partially because it would embarass him and mostly because he knows it would embarass pac) but he actually capital l Loves it when pac says his name with the "-tch" sound at the end. he thinks about it more than he shoud probably

this is less of a headcanon and more a writing prompt or like. a scenario that i think would happen but i think that at some point they'd be goofing around and threatening each other over whose a better fighter (they both think its each other but theyre arguing for themselves. for the bit) and fit would take off his prosthetic arm to hold it in his other hand and point it at pac like a sword and pac would be all oh yeah i can do that too and try to take off his leg standing up and would of course immediately overbalance and fall and fit would rush to check if he's ok while laughing his ass off and pac would use the leg to knock his legs out from under him so they would both be on the ground laughing so hard they couldn't breathe. and then fit would make a stupid pun about pac "not having a leg to stand on in this argument"

speaking of prosthetic's pac normally likes to keep his metal leg covered but the first time fit gets a proper look at it he's like woah your prosthetic looks so cooler and sleek and high tech i wish mine was like that and pac preens because he made it himself (ok it was him and mike but thats practically the same thing) and after that pac starts wearing his right pant leg rolled up (fit is only half of the reason, the other half is that it makes richarlyson feel better about his own leg but this is a fitpac post)

they both Really Like watching each other fight, hence the dungeon dates, but their favorite part is after all the mobs are cleared when they're cleaning their weapons and sorting through loot and just sitting quietly together basking in the shared victory and adrenaline and praising and complimenting each other for a fight well done

fit is aroacespec (he can count the amount of people he's been actually attracted to on one hand) and between that and his trust-no-one 2b2t background he's pretty inexperienced with most relationship related things, so pac is a lot of firsts for him. Pac not-so-secretly loves this because he's possessive and likes that no one else gets the type of attention he does from fit

fit starts wearing his glasses more often when he's not expecting combat or some other situation that will make them too inconvenient because pac says he looks cute in them

pac likes to make fit carry him on his back because 1. he likes the contact and 2. its fun to feel tall. the first time this happens it's because pac's metal leg takes a hit during a battle and is basically useless til he can repair it, so fit carries him back to chume labs out of necessity. After that pac usually makes up an excuse or plays up any hits he take so fit will do it again, except he's really bad at lying so fit knows what he's doing but he doesn't mind so he doesn't call him out on it

pac's hair looks really soft and fit realllly wants to run his hands through it but he's way too awkward to ask because that feels like a line being crossed and whenever pac runs his own hands through it fit just stares like a total weirdo which tubbo and phil both make fun of him for but somehow even then pac doesnt seem to notice. it takes him a long ass time to mention it to pac who he then finds out really likes having his hair played with and has been wanting fit to do it for forever but has also felt too awkward to ask. and then they laugh at themselves for being dumbasses (and then when they kiss for the first time and every time after that fit's flesh hand immediately goes up to his hair)

fit mentions that when he gets overstimulated sometimes its too much effort to remember to take his hearing aids out so pac asks if he can borrow them for a little bit and gives them back to fit with a new noise cancelling feature, and fit has to stop himself from literally proposing marriage right then and there. He settles for just cleaning chume labs top to bottom and leaving some chocolate and an embarassingly sappy thank you note that would read as a straight up love confession to anyone outside of him and pac's oblivious-but-also-not-oblivious slowburn-but-not-slowburn bubble

sometimes if pac is tired but cant get to sleep he'll go find fit and ask him to just talk at him for a bit because his voice is relaxing and if he falls asleep with his head on fit's shoulder or in his lap fit will sit as still as a rock for hours to not wake him up

ok ok you got me rambling this post is way too long now and most of these can barely count as headcanons but yippeeee i hope u like them!!!! everything will be ok we will have our morning crew and fitpac content back soon i promise

[ranger-ribbons]

More General Rangers Headcanons

Sixth Rangers are inherently more powerful than the regular Rangers. You'll notice that most can 1v1 difficult enemies that prove challenging to even the Reds of the team (ie.: Zhane (In Space Silver) 1v1'ing Ecliptor). This is because, on a power scale, the Sixth is supposed to balance the team out. A team that can work as individuals and an individual that can work on/with a team

Reds develop an attachment to their Sixth Rangers, be it romantic (Carter Grayson/Ryan Mitchell) or platonic (Leo and Mike Corbett), but it's close and quickly formed

Similarly, Sixth Rangers form quick and close attachments to their Reds, platonic or romantic

Pinks and Blues are either siblings or best friends and there is no in-between

Survivor's Guilt is a powerful force and 90% of the Rangers have it, especially the alien Rangers or those like the Lunar Wolf Wildforce Ranger

Rangers getting discouraged and believing themselves unworthy of the Power is also common, so there's a network of Rangers you can call to help with that kind of stuff

If you don't already have fantastic spatial awareness, you develop it pretty quick as a Ranger. It's damn near impossible not to because of all the attacks by Monsters, Bugs, etc

Red Rangers can give orders to their teams and the Power will give little pushes for the other Rangers to following it, but that doesn't mean the other Rangers can't refuse of their own volition

The Morphin' Grid affords its Rangers a form of immortality. They can be fatally injured, but otherwise, Rangers are effectively immortal

Some Rangers go on to become police officers, but most Rangers agree that working to assist and help people (ie.: lifeguards, doctors, breaking ground in the science fields) is best. Some of them establish dojos to train people to protect themselves (Tommy Oliver) and others work with volunteer efforts (Troy Burrows)

Veteran Rangers, Reds especially, tend to hang back during crossover events- this is to give the new Reds the confidence in themselves and their abilities, and allow them to grow into their leadership. The only exception was Forever Red, because Jason is a little bit of a control freak. He's the oldest Red, it's his right

When a Ranger is in a battle that forces them into demorph (i.e.: Gia, Jake, and Noah (Megaforce) against Creepox) the other teammates will be supremely worried and clingy, this is because of a trauma bond each team shares, but also because seeing someone you love get so hurt in a battle that they lose their ability to hold their morphs is fucking terrifying.

On that note, other Ranger teams will check in after those battles because seeing your successors get demorphed in the middle of battle is also something terrifying

Also on that note, some Rangers have specific nightmares in which they don't make it out of those demorph fights alive

The TMNT do on occasion pop out of the New York sewers to assist in a battle or two with the Ranger teams

Rangers who have martial arts skills (Ninja Storm, Jungle Fury, Samurai, Ninja Steel, etc) stick together, much like Rangers who are from or went to space

The techs of the teams have secret channels that they use to make "communication devices" (cell phones) so that Rangers don't have to rely on their morphers to communicate as well as being able to communicate with other Rangers and teams

Bulk and Skull have been linked so tightly with the Rangers that they've been kidnapped several times, only to be let go when it's been clear they aren't Rangers themselves

Junior Rangers have a chat, kids that helped Rangers (Heather, Jordon, etc.) have linked up and compared notes. They know of or know each other and most of them are tightly linked together

Possibility of more later, I didn't expect more than one post lol

[sp0o0kylights]

“Oh god it’s covered in hearts.” Gareth says, staring horrified at the stage that’s been set up in the cafeteria. Grant and Jeff stand next to him, eyeing the abomination of glitter, paper, and tinsel that’s been shaped into pink and red hearts with a microphone standing proud in the middle.

Several of Hawkin’s jocks are standing to the side, talking amongst themselves, but worse is the crowd of students accumulating in front of the stage.

“You don’t think they’re gonna serenade us for Valentine's Day, do you?” Jeff asks in a similar tone of horror.

Grant makes a disgusted face at the very thought.

“It’s about time they gave me my own mic!” Eddie cackles, slamming his hands down on Gareth and Jeff’s shoulders for leverage, jumping up for a better look (Grant smartly ducked away before his friend can crawl all over him too), “I’ve only been going on about the capitalistic horrors of Valentine's Day since middle school!”

They groan in unison..

Eddie’s got a look on his face that says he’s about to vault up on stage and do this year's rant in style; Gareth will be damned if he lets Eddie get detention on a Hellfire campaign night.

“Eddie, no.” Gareth warns, as his best friend tries to worm his way past them.

“Eddie, yes.” He grins, bolting forward even as multiple hands reach out to yank him back.

“Whatever they’re doing we do not want to get in the middle!” Jeff hisses in his ear as Grant reaches for his middle (already once tricked by grabbing Eddie’s jacket, which he simply shrugged out of). Gareth does his part, holding firmly onto one of Eddie’s hands. Eddie bravely tries to stagger forward, despite the efforts of what looks like some kind of mutant tangle of human limbs.

“Come here microphone, my beloved!” He pants, comically reaching his arms out towards the stage, before Grant promptly stops fooling around and hefts him into the air.

“Nooo--the people need to hear me!” Eddie wails, thrashing.

Gareth rolls his eyes and spots three familiar faces in doing so. Freezes so abruptly that the arm he was holding onto slips out of his grip, allowing Eddie to deploy a tickle attack.

The result is Grant almost throwing him to the floor, with Jeff forced to let go or fall.

Free to cause chaos, Eddie throws his hands in the air, grinning widely.

“Is that…the freshman, up there?” Gareth asks before his best friend can crow victory.

“I’m sure there’s many freshmen up there, buddy.” Grant says with false sincerity as he regains his breath.

“No, not--I mean our freshmen! Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair!” He points, and sure enough, on the side of the crowd opposite the jocks, there stood Hellfire’s youngest with their heads put together.

“Now just what are they up to, I wonder?” Eddie ponders aloud, before shrugging his jacket back in place and strutting forward.

Trading uneasy looks with each other, his friends follow.

xXx

“The auction isn’t kicking off until 6 pm.” Henderson says, as he carefully counts the individual bills in his hand. “We know that besides the basketball team and the cheerleading team, they’ve got like, the Mayor involved, and the fire department, which means--”

“A lot of people are going to be there.” Mike interrupts, arms crossed over his arms. “That’s what it means, Dustin. What’s the point if every girl there is going to be bidding on him?”

“Were you even listening, Mike? I just said there’s a bunch of other people they’re auctioning off!”

Wheeler Jr. pulls a face that nearly makes Eddie laugh (and thus give up the fact he was slowly sneaking up on them) before the kid shoots back, “We have five dollars total Dustin. I don’t think that’s going to be enough.”

“Not to buy a whole person.” Eddie says, voice dropping to imitate the current big bad in their D&D campaign, “But five dollars is a fair price for a body part I’d say…”

He trails off with a cackle as the three freshmen startle away from him like spooked horses. “Now what--or who--are you buying?”

“They’re gonna explain it here in a minute,” Dustin says after he recovers, waving at the girls in front of the stage with a hand. “But there’s some big charity fundraiser happening tonight. Right now they’re voting one guy from the basketball team and one girl from the cheerleading squad to represent the school, but they’re auctioning off a bunch of people.” Dustin explains, holding up his fistful of dollars with a wild grin.

“If you’re the highest bidder, you get to spend the day with the person you bid on.” Lucas adds, because Dustin skipped right over that part. “Since it’s Valentine's Day themed, they’re referring to them as “winning a date”.

Well that explained all the giggling cheerleaders.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “I’d ask if this is Sinclair’s bail money, but as my last two years remind me, it’s only for juniors and seniors. Not--” He playfully slings an arm around Lucas’s shoulders, “--for the darkside’s newest recruits.”

The uncomfortable look Lucas gives him is almost enough to make Eddie feel bad, but it’s not his fault Lucas was tempted by the evils of highschool sportsball. He figures the kid will come to his senses soon enough, and considering how awful the jocks are, it won’t be too long before Sinclair is 100% a Hellfire club member again.

“Which begs the question.” Eddie continues, slinging an arm over Mike’s shoulder as well. “What are you scheming? I’d ask if you’re buying me a date, but,'' He gives an over-dramatic sigh,” alas, no one can survive the charms of Eddie the Banished.”

“Charm is one word for it.” Jeff says, as the rest of Hellfire finally catches up. Gareth and Grant roll their eyes as Mike and Lucas chuckle weakly at Eddie’s exaggerated pout.

He drops his arms from his little lamb’s shoulders, taking a step back and looking around at the growing crowd.

“Hush Jeff. Let’s see if ol’ Eddie can guess who our brethren here have their eyes on. I wonder if…” He trails off, dragging out the last word as he does so before a bright, teasing smile lights up his face. “Aha! I see one Miss Cunningham. Are we bidding on her for Sir Gareth?”

A sputtering noise erupts behind him, as Eddie turns with glee to watch Gareth practically choke on soda he’d just taken a sip of, Grant thumping him on the back.

“Eddie.” Gareth hisses, and somehow it sounds like a warning even if his voice has a slight wheeze to it.

“What?” Eddie says, full of faux innocence. “We all know the lengths you’ve gone to get her attention recently.”

Gareth’s gone bright red, a testament to the fact that he’s been mooning over Chrissy Cunningham since the day she complimented one of his drawings.

His over-the-top moaning of how to woo her away from Jason is a prospect Eddie tolerates only because he himself has gone through great lengths to impress men that will never once look his way, let alone consider him as a romantic option.

(And also because Gareth, as Eddie’s best friend and confidant, was well aware of Eddie’s own crush on one Steve Harrington.

Apparently, Hellfire’s members were just cursed to fall for jocks.)

“They want to bet on Steve.” Mike says with an eye roll, apparently done with this entire charade.

For two seconds Eddie thinks that he’s somehow spoken the part about Steve aloud and that Mike is somehow echoing his deepest, innermost thoughts but is saved from panicking further by Dustin adding;

“We’re gonna make him play a campaign with us.”

The kid’s grin makes his eyes sparkle, which is completely at odds with the way Eddie’s stomach plummets.

“He played D&D with my sister, Eddie.” Lucas says, feigning a hurt look. “My kid sister, but not me?”

“Harrington played D&D?” Gareth’s voice implies he doesn’t believe it, and honestly? Had it not been for the freshmen, he wouldn’t have believed anything that was said about Harrington. He was on the verge of tears with laughter when they told him that the almighty King Steve was their chauffeur. They had to be lying about how often they hung out with Steve to begin with, right? Because there was just no way.

Except they weren’t. They really, really, weren’t.

It only took a handful of times of watching Steve pick them up from Hellfire, and then seeing the entire extended group (including Sinclair’s on-again-off-again girlfriend and Robin Buckley of all people) bouncing around Harrington like over excited puppies all over town.

The arcade. Downtown Hawkins. The local milkshake diner and the stupid movie theater.

Literally.

Everywhere.

“You guys are going to bid on Steve Harrington and make him play D&D.” Jeff clarifies, and Eddie doesn’t blame him for doing that either.

It’s the stupidest thing he’s heard all day, and he spent the last hour and a half listening to Mr. Rulf yawn on about parallelograms.

“Yeah! You guys wanna pitch in and help?”

“Absolutely not.” Eddie sneers. He can’t help himself--this is against everything he’s ever stood for.

Stupid thoughts of stupid Steve going on a stupid date with him, aside.

“Yeah guys, I think we’re gonna eat outside today. If you wanna listen to…whatever,” Jeff casts his eyes towards the cheerleader that’s bounding up the steps of the stage, ponytail bouncing, “ then go right ahead.”

“Oh we don’t need to listen to this.” Dustin dismisses the entire thing with a wave of his hand, making Mike roll his eyes again.

Somewhere in his campaign notes there’s a joke written about Wheeler Jr’s eyes getting stuck like that. Eddie hadn’t planned on bringing it out tonight, but a part of him really wants to.

Maybe if he can talk the freshman out of their idiotic idea, he’ll reward himself and do it tonight anyways.

….Or he could still steal that microphone.

xXx Steve xXx

Steve has no idea how he got talked into this.

Actually, that’s a lie, he knows how it started: a phone call, his mother, and a sudden way for her to be in the spotlight for her yearly fifteen minutes of Hawkins fame. He just can’t recall why he agreed to it.

“It's an opportunity, Steven." She says, heels clicking against the department store tile.

An embarrassment is what it was, but Steve knew better than to tell his mother that.

"You should be honored that Wendy--that’s the head chair of the charity board, you remember her don't you? She used to attend your piano recitals--she asked for you personally." His mother expertly plucked a shirt from the rack, holding it up to the light.

"Those were your parties mom, not my piano recitals." Steve reminds her as she holds the shirt out to him. He took it, adding it to the stack he had in his hands.

The parties were the exact same kind of shit this as this “Valentine's Day Fundraiser” a way for rich people to celebrate themselves by making others uncomfortable.

Only instead of being forced to play piano so his mothers friends could wine and dine with the famous Harrington's, he was being hauled up in front of the entire town (or whoever was attending this stupid event) and auctioned off as a “date” to the highest bidder.

(“It’s for one day, Steven, don’t be so dramatic. Why is your generation entirely incapable of taking a joke and having fun?” His mother had said, when he tried to tell her he wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

Of course there was no answer that would please her; soon enough, Steve found himself dragged about town as his mother played dress up.)

"You'll be standing alongside the Mayor, the fire department, even that idiot, Mary Marie--"

She stops for a moment, eyeing a jacket with a critical eye.

Just as quickly she dismisses it with a hum, prowling on to the next section.

"--the point is that there will be plenty of candidates for the children to pick from, but you’ll be the only hero up there."

That same critical eye turns on him, appraising him like he was no more than a horse in her stable, adding up imperfections and dividing amongst his best qualities.

(Despite a lifetime of training, it still takes everything in him not to squirm.)

"Not to mention a Harrington.” She purrs, taking a step closer to run a manicured hand down the front of his shirt, smoothing away a stray crease. “Women will be throwing money to win a day with you."

Steve has to fight not to outright shudder.

"Which means you have to look your best. Now stop whining, we’re almost done.”

Steve doubts that, but it doesn’t matter; he never had a choice to begin with.

xXx

Four hours, one shower, and several rounds of his mother’s nagging and meticulous styling, ,Steve finds himself back in Hawkin’s High, staring at the gym.

His mother had long swept past him, having spotted some high school friends and gone over to lord her lifestyle and general wealth over them.

For a fundraiser, the charity board in charge had spared no expense in dressing the gym up. Red, pink and white balloons decorated the doorways and a large stage hauled to one end.

Tables with thick, white table cloth are artfully arranged about the floor, caterers swiftly moving between them.

This is probably the fanciest this gym has ever looked, and Steve wants to be anywhere but inside it.

“Oh--Steve.” A gentle voice says next to him, and Steve turns his head in surprise to see Chrissy Cunningham look nervously up at him. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Me neither honestly.” He tells her, watching the way that makes the younger woman smile. “But I’ve been volun-told to be auctioned off. What about yourself?”

Chrissy runs her hands down her dress, a modest if not beautiful blue halter dress , wincing as she snags a nail on it. “The school held a vote at lunch about who would represent the school tonight. All of the varsity cheerleaders and basketball players were involved.”

“I see.” Steve says, keeping his voice gentle and playful. There had always been a part of Chrissy that had reminded him of El. Someone who needed kind words in their life. “You got voted as tonight’s sacrifice, huh?”

Chrissy laughs at that, hand flying to cover her mouth. “I guess you could say that.” She says, and seems surprised at herself for it.

“Did Jason get picked too?” Steve asks. It would make sense if he was, the guy was the basketball Captain after all.

Chrissy nods, then chews on her lip. “Yes but--he’s not happy about it,”

Steve snorts and tries to cover it with a cough. “None of us are.”

“It’s more that I’m being auctioned off.”

Chrissy must catch the look on his face because she rushes to add; “You know, like any boyfriend would be! I know it’s just supposed to be a fun silly thing and they’re not really dates but…” She trails off, voice growing quieter at the end. “He worries.”

The word “worry” sounds like it means something else entirely.

Steve feels for her.

“Hey, if Jason’s an ass about it, let me know.” Steve says after a moment of shared silence. “You don’t deserve to deal with him being a kid about this shit.”

Chrissy blinks up at him at that, hand almost to her mouth as though she’d subconsciously raised them up to chew on her nails. “Thanks Steve. That’s nice of you.” She whispers it, and Steve nods and smiles at her.

“There you two are!” A woman says, rushing over with a clipboard. “Steve Harrington and Chrissy Cunningham, right? We’re gathering all the dates behind those doors.” She turns and points to the opposite end of the gym. “If you both would follow me please?”

Steve motions for Chrissy to go first, and moves to follow her when a flash of curls crushed down by a blur of white, blue and electric yellow catches his eye.

He turns automatically, seeking it out and sure enough, ducking down the hall is Henderson, Sinclair hot on his heels.

A familiar mixture of emotions lights up Steve’s spine, and he knows immediately he won’t be able to rest until he figures out what the gremlins are up to--because their Hellfire Club was supposedly canceled today on grounds that Munson had stolen a microphone, or some other crap.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll join you in a second!” Steve calls, before darting down the hall, after them.

[thefirstlioveyou]

isn’t it interesting that for a good majority of audience, all a straight relationship has to do to be considered peak fiction or writing is to make out and have an unhealthy dynamic that loser cishet men can self insert themselves in? for general audiences, these ships don’t need to prove themselves why they’re good - they just have to be a boy and a girl.

but then you got a fully fleshed out dynamic between two characters of the same sex, where their endgame fulfills their personal arcs and are meant to be; they just work, all while still reaching their full potential as characters. but instead of support and, y’know, basic media literacy, it’s always, “why is everything gay now? why can’t they just be friends?” well, because they only ever are! that’s why!

maybe it’s because i’m queer and will naturally be drawn to media i can resonate with, but it’s incredibly rare for me to believe there’s romance in a fictional het ship. it’s almost always souless, always the same formula. there’s no effort to make the audience fall in love along with them. don’t get me wrong, there are queer relationships that also feel poorly written and i cannot seem to be drawn to, but i’ve never experienced this the same amount of times i have with a het ship; not even close.

however, i never felt this way watching stranger things. lumax, jopper, jancy - they are absolutely believable romances. there’s conflict, there’s reason why they love each other. but most of all, the relationship takes its time to grow. the writers understand pacing is an important factor for writing romance.

this is why mileven always seemed so different from the rest, and why it was always destined to fail because of it. it was forced. literally in the narrative, it is pushed upon mike by his friends. el is kissed and because she sees mike in this pedastal from her trauma regarding male caregivers, she follows through and grows an unhealthy dynamic from the understanding of love she’s only ever been familar with. i genuinely believe she never would have seen him in a romantic light if he hadn’t kissed her. and finally, their character arcs just cannot be fulfilled if they continue to stay together - they just can’t. they just go back to square one with zero growth.

there is no actual appeal to the ship. it was cute the first season! but… that’s it? they kept getting pulled away from each other by the story itself, so they get like no time together. and the time they do, they’re busy breaking up. they have no common interests, they can’t give each other what they want/need, they unintentionally trigger each other’s traumas, still have yet to connect on a personal level.

but, i guess that’s what you call beautifully written television romance.. i guess that’s where we are.

[apatheticlexicographer]

i think i finally understand the exact reasoning behind how both will and mike's sexualities are presented, and how those presentations flatter each other.

will is barely queercoded from a subtextual perspective because there's no need to queercode him. the writers verbally establish in season one episode one that people percieve this kid as gay, so you're immediately guided to see him through the same lens, at least subconsciously. people continue to refer to him as gay and he continues to "act" gay, and most of the audience is able to see this for what it is very easily without the need for heavy symbolism. will being gay is simply treated as a fact from the start by both the characters around him and the writers themselves, for better or for worse.

MIKE, on the other hand, is so heavily queercoded it's barely even funny. he's the one with the queer imagery, the blocking, the set design, the lighting. he's never explicitly referred to as queer, it isn't so much as suggested verbally, but the sheer amount of incredibly blatant subtextual material that surrounds him is insane. none of the characters within the show have the slightest clue that mike is gay. there's a good chance that mike himself doesn't know, or has only begun to realize very recently. even the writers do their damn best to make it appear like they themselves don't know. still, the fact remains that he is, it just isn't expressed in a way that the homophobic masses both within and outside the show are capable of picking up on. when he comes out it will be a shock to the characters and the majority heterosexual audience, but not to the queer people who pick up instinctually on the signalling. basically, you only know mike is gay if you have a genuinely functioning gaydar.

in this way they're so strongly representative of two very different gay experiences, both of which are important and both of which are treated respectfully by the writers, despite the setting.

will is the kid who never really gets the luxury of choosing whether to come out to people, because everybody has had him pegged from the start. even his own family: jonathan tells will he accepts him before will can even hint toward the topic himself. however as much as we're told that he "seems" gay to other people, all we are shown subtextually is a totally normal child who happens to have feelings for another boy. this is important because it subverts the trope of making "being gay" the "obviously gay" character's sole or core trait.

mike is the kid who people would never in a million years guess was queer. it's not just that he gets the luxury of choosing when to come out of the closet; he's so deep in it that he's drowning in winter coats. he's the "twist queer character," except he's not. his subtextual queercoding has been there beneath the surface for just as long as will has been textually referred to as queer on a surface level. this makes it clear that him being gay isn't some kind of last minute decision and the subtlety of his presentation wasn't an accident. if you don't knkw mike is gay now before it's revealed then you aren't supposed to.

they're foils like that. they're the archetypal queers, and i think it's kind of beautiful.

(and if anybody tries to argue that one expression of Queer Experience is more important than another then i'm coming for their kneecaps. having both experiences not only represented but thoroughly explored is so rare, although there are people all over the world who resonate with each.)