SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO? independent, selective and canon-divergent portrayal of will byers from stranger things.
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

ellievsbear

Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
Not today Justin
Three Goblin Art
Cosmic Funnies

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

titsay

PR's Tumblrdome
RMH

★

Kiana Khansmith

oozey mess

Jules of Nature

Janaina Medeiros
🪼

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@byersarchives
SHOULD I STAY OR SHOULD I GO? independent, selective and canon-divergent portrayal of will byers from stranger things.

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blue velvet.
dialogue prompts from blue velvet (1986).
i believe you know my father.
thanks for the card.
it was nice to finally meet you.
all my old friends are gone.
i still don't know how you do that.
it's not what you think, okay?
i don't want to cause any trouble.
sometimes it's necessary to take a risk.
don't you even want to hear the plan?
what am i supposed to say when ____ comes to the door?
it sounds like a good daydream, but actually doing it's too weird.
i didn't have time to get a window, but i found these keys.
you really want to do this, don't you?
my god, i never should have told you.
i don't know if you're a detective or a pervert.
i didn't mean to do anything except see you.
what did you see tonight? tell me.
don't touch me or i'll kill you.
do you like talk like that?
why don't you lie down?
hold me. i'm scared.
do you like me?
why is there so much trouble in this world?
you're a neat girl.
we really know how much wood a woodchuck chucks.
five minutes from now, you're not gonna believe what i told you.
i'm seeing something that was always hidden.
you worry about me, really?
you've got to do something. go to the police.
i'm not crazy. i know the difference between right and wrong.
you're one suave fucker.
i'm talking to you, shithead.
you're like me.
you're fuckin' lucky to be alive.
sometimes it's good to talk things over.
there'd better be nothing wrong.
you want to dance?
my father's got a gun at home.
i love you! love me!
i love you, but i couldn't watch that.
where is my dream?
listen, this is an emergency.
you shit-for-brains.
you forgot i have a police radio.
lunch is ready.
i feel much better now.
i could never eat a bug.
it's a strange world, isn't it?
RUBBER SOUL BY THE BEATLES PROMPTS
"I just can't go on if you won't see me."
"You've got time to rectify all the things that you should."
"Time after time you refuse to even listen."
"Say the word and you'll be free."
"Think for yourself 'cause I won't be there with you."
"Try thinking more if just for your own sake."
"You don't look different, but you have changed."
"I have had enough, so act your age."
"I think you know by now I'll get to you somehow."
"It's so fine, it's sunshine."
"You're not the same."
"Do what you want to do."
"I feel as though you ought to know that I've been good."
"Why did you not treat me right?"
"You don't know what you're missing."
"What goes on in your heart?"
"We have lost the time that was so hard to find."
"I love you, I love you, I love you."
"I thought I knew you, what did I know."
"What goes on in your mind?."
"You are tearing me apart."
"We'll forget the tears we cried."
"i'm coming back home."
"Until I do, I'm telling you so you'll understand."
"I've got a word or two to say about the things that you do."
"In the beginning I misunderstood."
"Love has a nasty habit of disappearing overnight."
"It's been a long time."
"There is no one compares with you."
"I want you, I want you, I want you."
"Oh, how I've been alone."
"You're telling all those lies."
"I know your mind's made up you're gonna cause more misery."
` * 𝐈𝐍𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 : a mix of dialogue and action prompts. sent "+ reverse" to reverse the roles.
𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 :
➔ you're gonna be okay , just keep your eyes on me. ➔ don't move - you're going to make it worse. ➔ it's not that bad. ➔ you saved me once before , now it's my turn. ➔ you fucking idiot , you weren't supposed to take the hit for me. ➔ i told you not to do that! now look! ➔ you're lucky that i know basic first aid , or you'd be dead! ➔ stay with me, okay? stay awake. ➔ i'll be as gentle as i can be , i promise. ➔ you're bleeding - oh my god , you're bleeding. ➔ you told me it was a scratch , this is not a fucking scratch! ➔ there's so much blood. ➔ next time you want to play here , just don't. ➔ stop fighting me and let me help! ➔ you're banned from doing anything remotely dangerous. ➔ you could have died , what were you thinking? ➔ if you die on me , i'm going to be pissed off. ➔ you didn't have to be so reckless just to prove a fucking point. ➔ the wound will heal but you'll have a scar.
𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 :
[ carry ] sender carries receivers muse to safety after finding them injured. [ stitch ] sender stitches receivers wound. [ hand ] sender holds receivers hand during a painful procedure. [ wound ] sender cleans receivers wounds with gentle and shaky hands. [ panic ] sender panics while trying to stop receiver's bleeding. [ patch ] sender patches receiver up using makeshift materials (i.e. torn shirt). [ fire ] sender drags receiver out of a burning building. [ pressure ] sender puts deep pressure on receivers wound while yelling for help. [ mouth ] sender gives receiver mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. [ change ] sender helps receiver change out of bloodied clothes. [ wash ] sender helps wash dried blood off of receivers face. [ shower ] sender helps receiver shower after an injury. [ broken ] sender tries to stabilize receivers broken limb with rope and sticks.
that took everything from me........ i don't even know where that came from i swore they were going to be short starters!!! and the other ones probably will be lol i just had this thought saved for a while. tomorrow i'll continue!! sorry for taking so long writing them!

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── .✦ @guiltskates / let's dance – david bowie.
if you say run, i’ll run with you,
his birthday comes like a soft chime in a house still half-haunted : another candle pressed into the frosting of a happy ending that feels too bright, too sharp, a light that will stain them all the rest of their lives. and el is not with them.
will never imagined the end of the world would sound like this ; not explosions, not sirens, just silence. long corridors of it. silence that stretches between heartbeats, that lingers in the space between bitten lips and words almost spoken.
he doesn’t know what to do with himself in the months after their final loss, after their greatest victory. he had always believed the story would close with him at its center, that his end would be the one to finish what was started so many years ago in the dark. he was certain his fate would blaze out in something sacrificial, something final.
he never once imagined he would live long enough to see the quiet.
but he is here.
and she isn’t.
the thought feels wrong, like a door he shouldn’t open. as if even shaping her name in the darkness of his mind is an act of trespass. as if imagining the exchange ( her breath for his, her life for his own ) is a cruelty that twists the knife already lodged beneath his ribs. survivor’s arithmetic is merciless ; no equation ever balances.
he is okay. he thinks he is okay. he smiles when lucas and mike fall into familiar arguments over strategy, their voices rising with harmless urgency. he laughs when dustin and max bicker over something trivial, something beautifully ordinary. he can play his part in the world they fought for.
most days, that is enough. but today is different.
it’s his birthday and they’re trying to make it good. this day belongs to him, and it feels wrong that it does. what is there to celebrate, really? the fact that he lived? the fact that someone braver, brighter, didn’t?
she is still gone.
he presses his teeth into his lip and watches his mother’s laughter spill freely as her arms curl around hopper. a song by david bowie drifts through the speakers, bright and glittering, urging them to dance. the makeshift dance floor stands empty for a moment, a small, unclaimed universe of light.
maybe she would have claimed it. maybe she would have spun in the center, fierce and unselfconscious, pulling the rest of them into orbit.
there is no way to know, because she isn’t here to show them.
the music swells. bowie sings about dancing. the room begins to feel too full –– too warm, too loud. the laughter echoes and the air thins. will scans the crowd until he finds the one presence that he knows won’t overwhelm him right now. the one person who will feel steady in the noise.
he crosses the room quickly, the urgency flashing across his face for just a second before he smooths it into something gentler, something controlled. a mask he’s gotten very good at wearing.
“ max, ” he says softly, the word barely more than breath.
then, steadier, though his hands tremble at his sides, “ max. can we take five minutes? just five. outside? please? ”
and if you say hide, we'll hide.
like this so i can write you a starter based on one of the songs from my playlist!!!
like ♡ this so i can send you some ask memes !!!
SUPERMAN (2025) PROMPTS * assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary.
your choices, [name]. your actions... that's what makes you who you are.
i couldn't be more proud of you.
we're so different.
i'm punk rock.
you are not punk rock.
my point is, i question everything and everyone. you trust everyone and think everyone you've ever met is beautiful.
you piece of shit alien!
that is where you've always been wrong about me. i am as human as anyone.
i get scared.
i wake up every morning, and despite not knowing what to do, i put one foot in front of the other, and i try to make the best choices that i can.
i screw up all the time, but that is being human, and that's my greatest strength.
none of this matters, you patronizing clown.
the government gave me authority to kill you.
i'm gonna turn myself in.
he's out there alone. and he's probably scared.
you're driven by envy. you couldn't be more obvious.
parents aren't for telling their children who they're supposed to be. we are here to give you tools to help you make fools of yourselves all your own.
oh my god. why does he trust everyone?
quit messing around!
i'm not messing around. i'm doing important stuff.
hey buddy. eyes up here.
i know you won't kill me.
that haircut should be against your vows.
nothing's felt right since he showed up.
i told you to keep an eye on him!
i can be such a jerk sometimes.
take me home.
there's gotta be a better way to do this!
what the hell, dude? why did you move the door?
where is my dog?
how long have they been hooking up?
it's guys like this, they always got a whole bunch of dark, ugly secrets.
a lot of these guys, these heroes from the magazines, they're obsessed with me. 'cause i'm more jacked than they are.
i thought you wanted to see me.
you're just trying to get information out of me.
i swear to god, that's not it.
there's other parts of you that people would find very attractive.
if i had any emotional capacity whatsoever, i'd be concerned about her partying.
what are you smirking at, you idiot?
would you like a coffee?
i have no clue what you're talking about.
i've been trying to figure out a way to get it out of here alive.
good for you, asshole!
is that really how you feel?
people were going to die!
thanks for watching him, bitch!
good luck with that.
the people there are simple and profoundly confused.
do us proud. rule without mercy.
what's it called again?
your hot ex is a genius.
are you kidding me? those things aren't cheap!
your obsession with me is getting a little creepy.
well, this is why he has behavioural issues.
they sent a message along with me.
i cherish it more than anything.
hi!!! i regret the disappearance!!! i actually have no reasons for it, other than tumblr's style of writing can sometimes get tiring. i want to write more (As Always!!!) so i'll be more active here and at @halfinthevoid to get things going lol 💗

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the two sit alone in the wheeler basement. unusual now. but not for nothing they used to be a party. but things have changed. some unwanted as time has failed them. adolescence has turned into teenage blues. with that comes visual changes. ⸻ body hair & the lanky bodies they have found themselves in. but will has always remained the same. like a root between the soil ( stunted by the weeds ) “ well byers ⸻ i guess its just me and you ” he pulls out xmen #134, sliding it over. ( a copy that was supposed to be wills after all ) BEFORE HE WENT MISSING. a foreshadowing that never made sense until now. “ its yours ”
time has been unkind. it has reshaped the faces of the people who once knew him by heart, harshened their edges, pulled them forward into lives that keep moving … and will ? will has stayed behind, suspended in stillness, caught somewhere between then and now. so unchanged it’s almost eerie, like that boy they pulled from the quarry once, cold and unmoving, while the world kept breathing around him. everything changes, they tell him. it’s normal. you let things go. they never told him that he was the thing that was going to be left behind ⎯ but for now, he’s here, with dustin, in this small, sacred place that once stitched them all together and somehow, that’s enough. a soft laugh escapes him at the sight, his head tipping as nostalgia settles warm and heavy in his chest. his fingers brush the cover with awe, like it might vanish if he presses too hard. “ dustin, i ⎯ ” instead, he steps forward and wraps his arms around him, firm and grounding, hands resting steady at his shoulders. he stays there a second longer than necessary, memorizing the feeling, to keep it when it is inevitably taken away from him again. then pulling back, nodding quickly, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth. “ i’ll take good care of it. i promise. ” he says, holding the comic close. “ but you can’t come back later asking for it back. ”
SEASON FIVE RE - WRITE: THE HUNTERS.
it's 9:49 pm on september 19th, 1986 when monsters finally invade what's left of hawkins, and when what very little suspension of disbelief most citizens still held snaps like a twig. suddenly, hawkins is under a full siege. the party completes their first successful crawl into the upside down, but the upside down crawls in after them. demogorgons, demo - dogs, and bats come pouring in through the cracks below their feet on all sides as shrill, inhuman screeches fill the night air; a poor substitution for the crickets that have long fallen silent. despite the overbearing military occupation, many lives are lost in the subsequent days, weeks, months, year leading up to the final fight with vecna. the army does not listen when the party desperately tries to warn them of what truly weakens the creatures and continues to fight almost exclusively with gun power. this gives the alien species practically free range to kill and maim innocents as the government proves to be much less invested in protecting the citizens of hawkins than they are in finding their " eleven ". to their very minimal credit, the military do use ultrasonic frequencies to scramble the bats' echolocation at night. eventually the bats begin to surface in the daylight instead, although the light and heat considerably weaken them. this sound doesn't help with the other demo - species. on nights when the crew is not organizing crawls, they regularly split into groups to hunt demogorgons in order to protect what's left of hawkins' rapidly dwindling population. they are caged prey in a lion's den, and the party takes it upon themselves to do as much as they can to prevent anymore death. nancy takes up candy striping alongside vickie, in order to monitor monster activity, any possible new vecna cases, and, of course, to keep an eye on max. the party is exhausted, spread too thin, and constantly on high alert. this is, of course, exactly how vecna wants them. practically powerless, and much too preoccupied, to see the next step in his plan coming. it isn't every night that the creatures show their faces. some nights are quiet, although it's never a safe decision to believe it will stay that way. the unpredictability, they decide, must be part of the madness. a false sense of security before they're robbed of it again, never something that can be planned for. it's a cycle built to wear them down, and it does - but not without impossibly furthering each of their individual needs to finally catch, and kill, the monster in control. it's because of this need to be everywhere, all at once that they are so woefully unprepared for the night the crawl goes wrong.
WELL, I'VE BEEN AFRAID OF CHANGING 'CAUSE I'VE BUILT MY LIFE AROUND YOU.
i hope you had the time of your life . by sunny .
@byersarchives said : hey, look at me — it's not real . it's not real . accepting , cult classics .
you were dreaming . you knew you were dreaming, at the time, but it had been such a nice dream . everyone was there, & everyone was happy . laughing, smiling . as if nothing bad had ever happened . as if none of you had a care in the world . you knew it was a dream, because of that . because things are so different now than they were when you were children, & the last time you were together, really together, all of you, the world had quite literally been ending . but you were content to sit in that dream, knowing it wasn’t reality, because at least for a moment you could pretend, & no one would get on your ass about how you’re really doing or what you’re really feeling . it’s freeing, to spend time in a fantasy .
but real life creeps in through the cracks of it . like black ichor, slowly at first until it’s filling up the room . the lights flicker & the laughter disappears & when you turn around, so have your friends . so has your family . it’s just a dream . you remind yourself again & again . it’s just a dream . it’s just a dream . but it feels so real, as a red rift in the darkness opens up . a familiar chatter, otherworldly & chilling to the bone echoes in the emptiness . your heart is pounding hard against your chest . they’re everywhere . you can sense them, staring without eyes as you stand there, frozen . predator hunting prey . someone screams . someone familiar . a monster lunges at you from the darkness . suddenly, the ground disappears from your feet, & you’re falling . falling & screaming, but there’s no sound . you realize you’re rapidly approaching a body of water . the surface of a lake . the quarry .
you wake up with a jolt, sitting upright before you’ve even opened your eyes as if some invisible force had pulled you, physically upward & out of it . you only start breathing a moment later, a strangled gasp that cuts through the silence of the dark room like broken glass . for a minute, you forget where you are . everything is still so dark, & you find yourself feeling around, clumsy & panicked just to confirm that there’s something solid you can hold onto . you’re on the floor . you’re in the basement . & when a dim light flicks on in the corner, your eyes dart to your right to meet will’s . you realize you’re still struggling to breathe, chest heaving as you drink air in until it feels like your lungs are going to burst, & suddenly he’s in front of you, all sleep gone from his eyes .
it’s not real . it’s not real . your hands, shaking, reach forward to grasp onto him . hold tightly to his arms as you force your body to function the way it’s supposed to . a trembling breath out, then stilted back in . then again, slower this time . out, then in . you dare not close your eyes, scared unreasonably that if you do you’ll hit the surface . the very thought of it makes you sick, so instead your eyes scan the room, making sure everything is exactly where it should be until the act of breathing feels natural again . you let go of will to rake your fingers through your hair, then drag your palms down your face with a groan . “ sorry . sorry, i don’t know … i didn’t mean to wake you up . ”
you are used to nightmares. long before it ever chose you, terror already knew your name. you would twist awake in the dark, breath snagging, and jonathan would come running, half-asleep, steady hands anchoring you back to the world. at sleepovers, you learned to keep your eyes open, to trace cracks in the walls until dawn, ashamed of a fear you felt you had no right to claim. you knew they wouldn’t judge you ( your friends were never cruel ) but the idea of being seen as fragile, as breakable as everyone else insisted you were, gnawed at you. as you feared you truly were.
sometimes you wonder if that’s why it chose you. if the darkness marked you early, if everything that happened merely gave it permission to bloom. you wonder whether the rot was planted there from the start, patiently waiting for the right moment to spread through your chest and hollow you out from the inside.
mike has always been there for your nightmares, that much has never faded. you learned, instinctively, that when fear pulled whimpers from you in your sleep, you could reach for him and he would be there. whether as a steady presence in your dreams, a bright shape cutting through endless dark, or as a voice on the other end of the phone, grounding you back into your body. his words would chase the cold from your bones, that almost-not-here chill lingering from somewhere worse, and for a few seconds you would forget everything that hurt. because you wouldn’t be alone. because you would have him.
and that’s why it aches, sometimes, that you don’t know how to be that person for him. for anyone. you, always the one being held together, never the one trusted to do the holding. resentment takes root in you on your worst days. that no one leans on you, that no one believes you strong enough to carry their weight. you watch your best friend fold inward, hide from comfort, swallow everything until it detonates inside him, and you feel so useless it makes you ache. burden me, you want to scream. let me burdened. i can handle it. for you, i can.
but you don’t scream. you never do. you bite your tongue instead, hard enough to draw blood, and let the silence fill your mouth until it threatens to drown you. you are just an accomplice.
when sleep finally comes, you fall into it the way you do with everything else, completely, losing yourself in the depths. you don’t take kindly to being dragged out of it, not when rest is so strange, but the protest dies in your throat the moment you see him.
fear reaches you. you seize for the words that were given to you so many times before, offering them back with a voice softer than it’s been in years. you know they’re useless. you know that even if what he saw wasn’t real, the terror was. the despair was. still, you speak, because doing nothing would be worse.
“ hey. ” your eyes are soft with sorrow, stripped bare with worry. you bite your lip — once, twice, three times — before forcing yourself to hold his gaze. you’re tired of looking away. tired of being the coward everyone thinks you are. foolish, naive will, who once hoped mike might be spared from this kind of fear. “ hey. it’s okay. i’m here. ”
“ my dream wasn’t that good anyway, ” you add, grasping for levity, that old instinct to make him smile. you nudge his shoulder lightly, a fragile grin pulling at your mouth. “ it was hopper in a clown suit. i'm sorry. ” a breath. softer now. “ it’s okay. really. do you … do you want to talk about it? ”
you swallow, steadying yourself. “ because i think we should. ”

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okay i lied and i actually did make a carrd for my dear jane !!! and i took the chance to go ahead and make one for my dear will, too. you can find them here & here (!!!) you can also find them in their respective pinned posts but Whatever....
OF COURSE THE LOVE IS THERE. STILL, STILL, STILL.