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not really tbh. prob only for one tiny fic because i've had a MASSIVE writers block since forever?? (and im not that much into væb/esc atm sorry)
BUT yeah you've probably seen stranger things 5 and what unforgivable shit they've done to byler/ literally everything so i rewrote some scenes and wrote a byler fic bc why not!!
Warnings: season 5 spoilers?? internalised homophobia?? angst
Summary: Mike's having some thoughts after Will's outing
a/n: yeah so i rewrote some scenes bc i hate what the duffer brothers did to byler >:(
Mike stood hunched over the railing, fingers nervously shaking as he passed his water bottle to his friend. Should he say something? He looked down on the ground they stood on just a few minutes ago. What if they don't make it? He should say something before it's too late. His eyes wandered between Will and his own hands gripping the railing tightly, his breath shivering with anxiety.
"Hey," he said without looking at the other. "Uhm. What you said earlier... at the Squawk... I'm sorry."
Will looked at him confused and Mike noticed, quickly correcting himself. "I mean- not sorry about what you said– I–"
"It's okay," Will laughed quietly, easing Mike's running thoughts.
"No. It's not. I should've been there for you." Mike said, searching for Will's eyes. "I'm sorry I left you alone with this."
"You don't have to be sorry," Will said, looking away from the boy he had a crush on for the longest time. He's over him now, that's what he's telling himself. But deep down, Mike is still the only one who ever made him feel this way. His stomach flipped upside down anytime he touched him. Even the slightest brush against his skin made his heart race. Whenever their eyes locked, Will lost every single thought, as if Mike's eyes wiped his brain clean.
"No, Will. I am sorry. I'm sorry that I never made you feel safe enough or seen enough to come and tell me. I've been a horrible friend to you," Mike said. His words hung in the air, heavy.
Will opened his mouth to argue, but Mike kept talking, voice cracking like a wire pulled too tight.
"I feel like I should've seen it. I should've noticed, Will. You've been my best friend since... forever! And I didn't see it. Maybe part of me did, I don't know..."
Will’s fingers brushed the railing, then fell to his side. "Best friend?"
"There's nothing that could change that. I never wanted you to feel like you had to hide," Mike said quietly. "I feel so stupid."
Will's throat tightened. He looked at Mike, searching his face as if he could read all the things he was not saying.
Mike dropped his gaze. He could feel it pressing in on him, all at once.
He did not have the right words for any of it. Everything inside his head felt loud and blurry at the same time, like static on a broken TV. He tried to pin a single thought down and it slipped away before he could look at it. He knew he cared about Will. That part was simple. He had always cared. But lately it had not felt simple at all.
He kept telling himself it was just worry. That was all. He was worried about his best friend, worried about everything going to hell around them. That was normal. That was fine. But it didn't feel fine. It felt like there was something else underneath all of it that he couldn't quite look at. Every time he got close, his brain just… flinched. Like touching a stove without meaning to.
He thought about home, about how things were supposed to go, about the version of himself he had in his head. None of this fit with that. It was like trying to cram whatever this was into a space that was already packed full, and it just wouldn't go, it kept spilling out the sides.
He wished he could understand it. He wished it would go quiet. Mostly he just wanted his brain to shut up for a minute so he could breathe.
From above them came Dustin's voice, urgent and echoing. "I don't want to rush you guys, but we're kinda on a tight schedule!"
Both boys startled slightly. Mike huffed out a breath that was almost a laugh. The world came rushing back. The Upside Down, the shaky tower, the abyss waiting for them.
He pushed the door in his head closed again, not locked, just resting against it.
"Yeah," he called back to Dustin, voice steadier than he felt. "We're coming."
-
He couldn't say it back. It was the last time he would ever see El, and he still couldn't say it. She was standing there telling him she loved him, and his throat just closed. Nothing came out. Not even a lie.
It should have been simple. She loved him. She had always loved him. She deserved to hear it.
His chest hurt, his eyes burned, but the feeling wasn't what it was supposed to be. He just stood there, silent, hating himself for it, wishing he could force the words out, wishing he could be the person she thought he was.
But he wasn't.
His mind was blank for weeks after that. After El died together with the Upside Down.
He wasn't sure if he really believed it. He liked to think that El was safe, somewhere in Iceland with three waterfalls, like he had once promised her.
On the day of their graduation, after Dustin held a speech in honour of Eddie Munson, Mike desperately wanted one last game of DnD with his friends.
They played in his basement, exactly where they always had. Same ugly carpet. Same flickering lamp. Same nostalgic feeling. For a few hours, there were no real monsters, no goodbyes, no things they didn't know how to talk about.
Will sat across from him.
Every time Mike looked up, he caught him there, half-smiling, pencil tapping against his character sheet.
He didn't understand why it made his chest ache. He didn't have a name for it. He only knew that when the game ended and everyone stood up, joking and stretching, he wished he could freeze the room exactly as it was and keep it like that forever.
Because everything that came after it meant growing up. It meant El really being gone. It meant the group splitting up, everyone moving away from Hawkins. It meant change. And lately, change made him feel like he was standing at the edge of something he couldn't see the bottom of.
He packed away the dice slowly, as if dragging it out would somehow buy him more time. Tears formed in his eyes as he put his binder into the shelf, next to Will's.
Will stood behind him, watching the scene with a heavy heart. Should he say something?
Mike blinked hard, pretending to focus on straightening the binder, lining it up perfectly with the others. If he kept his hands busy, maybe the rest of him would stay together. His vision blurred anyway. He hated crying in front of people. It always felt like losing control.
"I, uh… guess that's it," Mike said, voice small. He stared at the shelf like it might answer him. "Campaign over."
Will stepped a little closer. "Maybe... but we don't have to be. We're still friends, Mike. Nothing is going to change that. Not even New York."
Mike let out a quiet breath that was almost a laugh. "Yeah. Maybe."
Will's hand hovered in the air for a second before he finally rested it lightly on Mike's shoulder.
Mike closed his eyes. He didn't move for a moment, just stood there with his eyes closed and Will's hand on his shoulder. The room felt too full and too empty at the same time.
He swallowed. "Can I ask you something?"
Will hesitated. "Yeah. Of course."
Mike turned then, not quite meeting his eyes. He looked somewhere over Will's shoulder, like the words might be easier if he didn't have to see his face.
"How did you… realise you didn't like girls?"
Will blinked. "Oh."
For a second he looked like he might joke his way out of it. Then he didn't. He took a small breath instead.
"Well, uh… there was this boy," he said, eyes dropping to the floor. "Someone I always felt… stronger about. I was confused at first, because I was young and it didn't make sense to me yet." He shrugged, lips twitching into a shaky smile. "But being around him… it was easier. I felt more like myself. More confident. Less alone."
He glanced up at Mike. "Or... How you felt about El, I guess."
Mike's heart kicked hard at his ribs. He found flashes of El's smile, her bravery, the responsibility he always felt around her… but the warmth Will described, that soft feeling under the skin, he didn't find it there. He found it somewhere else.
His stomach flipped. He didn't say anything for a moment.
Will shifted uncomfortably in Mike's silence, ready to blurt out incoherent words, but Mike spoke first.
"The painting," he said suddenly.
Will froze. "What?"
"The painting you gave to me in California," Mike continued, voice low. "It wasn't from El."
Silence stretched between them.
Will opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. "I–"
"Why didn't you tell me?" Mike asked. His voice wasn't angry. It was confused and tired. "Why did you lie?"
Will's hands curled in at his sides. "I thought you didn't want to hear the truth."
Mike let out a breath that shook a little. "That’s bullshit, Will."
Will flinched. Not because of the word, but because of how fragile Mike sounded when he said it.
Mike dragged a hand through his hair. "I mean… maybe you're right. Maybe I wasn't ready to hear it. But it was still you. And it mattered. And I wish I had known it was you."
He finally looked at Will then. Everything in his chest moved at once, like someone had knocked all the pieces loose.
His throat went tight.
Why had he never noticed how badly he needed Will to stay?
Will felt something shift when Mike looked at him. Mike's face was the same as always, but the way he was looking at Will wasn't.
So much for being "over it."
He had said it enough times that it almost sounded true in his head. He'd told himself he had outgrown it, that it was just something from when they were younger and confused and everything hurt all the time. He had boxed it up, taped it shut, pushed it somewhere he didn't have to see it.
Except now it was back.
His chest felt too full. He thought about all the years Mike had been there, about how everything felt easier when it was the two of them, about how the world always tilted a little toward Mike no matter where they stood.
He hadn't stopped feeling it. He had just stopped letting himself look at it.
Mike's fingers tightened around his arm, like he needed to hold on to something.
"You make me feel so much, I'm terrified, Will," He finally said, his voice almost a whisper.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺
a/n: sorry not sorry for the open ending but my creative juice ran out mid-fic & i prob won't be able to write anything until my next hyper fixation and idk when that will be
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Hálfdán having a rough day during Eurovision and coming back to the hotel in the middle of the day because he’s so tired and reader is looking around for him just for him to be sound asleep in his hotel room
- I LOVE your work also feel free to make changes if you’d like !!
too tired to be loud
Hálfdán Helgi Matthíasson (VÆB) x Reader
Warnings: none
a/n: a VERY short & cute one for my comeback
380 words
You’ve asked three people and circled the venue twice. No one’s seen him.
Which is weird, because Hálfdán is never hard to spot. Loud voice, wild hand gestures, a laugh that echoes down entire hallways. He doesn’t exactly blend in. But today? Nothing. He missed press rounds, skipped the crew lunch, and left his phone in the dressing room.
Something’s off.
You try not to overthink it as you leave the venue and head back toward the hotel. Maybe he just needed air. Or quiet. Though, knowing him, “quiet” usually means humming Eurovision entries or italian brainrot in the elevator until someone begs him to stop.
The receptionist barely glances up as you head toward the elevator. Everyone knows you’re with the Icelandic delegation by now. Or at least, they know you’re with him.
You knock on his room door softly at first. No answer.
Then a bit louder. Still nothing.
You hesitate, then try the handle.
Unlocked.
You poke your head in. “Hálfdán?”
The room is dim, curtains pulled closed against the afternoon sun. The air is still, quiet… and then you spot him.
Face-down on the bed, one arm hanging off the side, shoes still on. Asleep.
His sunglasses are tossed on the nightstand, his hoodie half-off like he gave up halfway through removing it. You can hear his breathing, deep, steady, the kind that only comes from complete exhaustion.
Something in your chest softens.
You step inside, carefully shutting the door behind you. You don’t want to wake him, but you do want to check if he’s okay. You sit down gently on the edge of the bed, just far enough not to disturb him.
Then, after a moment, you brush a bit of his messy hair away from his face. His lashes twitch, but he doesn’t stir.
You whisper, just in case he’s halfway awake. “You should’ve told someone you were leaving.”
A pause. Nothing.
You lean back a little, watching his shoulders rise and fall.
“Everyone’s been looking for you,” you add quietly. “I was looking for you.”
Still nothing.
Then, very faintly, he mumbles into the pillow. “You found me.”
You blink. He doesn’t open his eyes, but his lips tug into the smallest, sleepiest smile.
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did u watch halfdans stream last night? it was so adorable!! his last victory royale of being 21 🥹🥹🥹 and the chess game before that..... hes so 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
i didn't watch it fully bc i was tired asf but it was so cute!!! i love him sm😭😭
a/n: in honour of big væb's birthday, i wanted to write something quick & cute, hope you enjoy!! xx
1.5k words
You could feel the energy crackling like static in the small venue as you and Matti finished stringing up the last of the twinkling fairy lights. It was warm, the low ceiling and soft light turning the rented space into something almost magical. A pile of balloons sat in the corner, and a table was loaded with cake and all of Hálfdán and Hjördis’ favorite treats.
Úlla was setting up a small stage with a microphone for a karaoke session later, while Baldwin and Ola fussed over the drink table, trying to make sure there was something for everyone. Matti, who had been buzzing around like an excited puppy all evening, stopped next to you with a wide grin. “They’re going to lose it,” he said, his eyes gleaming. “Hálfdán and Hjördis think we’re just meeting for drinks at a bar!”
You nodded, your own excitement making your chest feel light. “It’s going to be perfect,” you said. “They’ll be so surprised.”
You checked your phone again, your fingers tapping restlessly against the screen. Sirry had sent you a quick update: We’re almost there! She was out “grabbing drinks” with the twins, the perfect distraction to keep them from guessing anything.
In the meantime, you and everyone else huddled in the cozy glow of the room. Matti was bouncing on his heels, barely able to contain his excitement. Úlla was fussing over the cupcakes one last time, carefully straightening the little birthday candles, then shot you a thumbs-up.
The room smelled like cake and laughter already, the faint music of mostly VÆB’s own songs playing softly in the background. You felt your heart race in your chest, a warm, almost giddy anticipation building.
Finally, you heard footsteps outside the door. A murmur of voices, Hálfdán’s unmistakable voice, playful and warm. “Sirry, why are we stopping here? This isn’t–”
The door creaked open. Hálfdán’s face appeared first, his brows knitting in confusion as he took in the darkened room. Hjördis was right behind him, peeking over his shoulder, her expression a mixture of suspicion and amusement.
“SURPRISE!” everyone shouted, the room erupting in cheers and laughter. The fairy lights flickered on fully, confetti bursting above their heads in a cascade of color.
Hálfdán’s jaw dropped, his blue eyes going wide in pure shock. Hjördis let out a bright laugh, her hand flying to her mouth as she took in the scene. Matti was already bounding forward, sweeping them both into a hug before they could even react, his laughter ringing out over the music.
You watched, your heart swelling, as the confusion melted from their faces and was replaced by pure joy.
“You guys–” Hálfdán started, but before he could say another word, Matti was already bounding forward like a golden retriever on a sugar high, his grin so wide it threatened to split his face in two. He threw his arms around both twins in a huge hug, nearly knocking them backward.
Hjördis let out a squeal, her laughter ringing out as she hugged Matti back. Hálfdán’s eyes crinkled with laughter, his confusion melting away into pure joy as he wrapped his arms around them too. Their laughter mingled in the air, warm and infectious, and you felt a thrill of relief that it was all coming together perfectly.
Sirry and Úlla swooped in next, armed with sparkly party hats and glittery paper crowns. “Happy birthday, you two!” Sirry sang out, placing a crown on Hjördis’ head before perching a bright blue hat onto Hálfdán’s messy hair. Úlla added a boa around Hálfdán’s shoulders, winking at him as she did.
Hálfdán finally turned to you, his grin as bright as the twinkling lights overhead. “You knew about this?” he asked, mock accusing, though his eyes were dancing with excitement.
You shrugged, trying to keep your cool as you fought back a beaming smile. “Maybe it was my idea,” you said softly. “Happy birthday, both of you.”
For a moment, he just looked at you, his smile softening, then he stepped forward and pulled you into a hug. His arms were warm and solid around you, his laughter still humming in his chest. “This is amazing,” he murmured, his voice so close to your ear that it made your heart skip a beat. “Thank you.”
You hugged him back just as tightly, the warmth of the room and the happiness in his voice wrapping around you like a blanket. “You’re welcome,” you whispered, your own smile impossibly wide. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
Someone turned the music up, and suddenly Róa was blasting cheerfully through the speakers. The lively melody filled the room, and you could practically feel the beat in your chest. Hjördis wasted no time, she grabbed Sirry’s hands with a gleeful squeal, pulling her in for a makeshift dance right there in the middle of the room. They twirled and giggled, their laughter rising above the music, the flickering lights turning them into a blur of color and movement.
Meanwhile, Hálfdán made a beeline for the drinks table, where Úlla was already busy lining up shot glasses. “We’re not doing anything small tonight!” Úlla declared, grinning as she handed Hálfdán the bottle of schnapps. He flashed her a playful wink and took over, pouring out shots with exaggerated care, his concentration making everyone around them laugh.
You watched as he moved easily between friends, slipping shot glasses into waiting hands, always with that bright smile that made it impossible not to smile back. Every time he caught your eye, he shot you a big grin, as if to say This is perfect.
By the time he reached you with your own shot, the music had shifted into the chorus, and everyone was singing along. He clinked his glass against yours with a mischievous grin, and you both knocked them back together. The sharp burn of the schnapps only added to the glow in your cheeks, and when Hálfdán’s laughter bubbled out, you found yourself laughing right along with him.
But as the party swirled around you, the music a little lower now, you found yourself slipping away from the crowd, needing a moment to catch your breath. Hálfdán seemed to notice at the same time. He sidled up beside you, his grin a little softer than before, his blue eyes twinkling in the fairy lights.
“Hey,” he said, gently bumping his shoulder against yours.
“Hey yourself,” you replied, a little breathless. “Having a good time?”
He let out a quiet laugh. “Best birthday I could’ve imagined.” He hesitated, then leaned in a bit closer, his voice warm and sincere. “Really. Thank you for all of this. I don’t even have words.”
You felt your heart flutter at the earnestness in his voice. “You don’t have to thank me,” you said. “You deserve a night like this. Just to feel how much everyone loves you.”
He smiled then, and it was softer, almost shy in its warmth. “It’s… it’s more than I expected,” he admitted. “I’m used to the big shows, the chaos onstage, but–” His hand gestured around the room, where his friends and family laughed and danced, where Hjördis and Matti were belting out a chorus together at the top of their lungs. “This is different. And you made it happen.”
Before you could answer, he reached out and took your hand, his thumb tracing slow, easy circles against your skin. “You’re amazing,” he murmured. “Thank you for being here.”
For a moment, the music and laughter faded around you. It was just the two of you, standing there, close enough to feel his warmth and see the spark in his eyes. You squeezed his hand, feeling your own cheeks warm. “Happy birthday, Hálfdán.” you said softly.
He gave your hand another gentle squeeze, his smile turning a little bashful as he looked down at where your fingers were intertwined. Then, almost like he couldn’t help himself, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek.
“Can I–?” he started, his voice hushed, eyes searching yours.
You felt your heart skip a beat, and you nodded, your own smile growing. “Yeah,” you whispered back.
He let out a tiny breath of relief, then closed the space between you, his lips brushing yours in the softest, sweetest kiss. It was a gentle press at first, a question rather than a demand, and you answered by leaning in just a little bit more, your hand curling around his wrist.
When he pulled back, his grin was bright and a little breathless, like he couldn’t quite believe it had happened. “Best birthday ever” he said smiling, and you laughed softly, leaning in for another quick kiss, just because you could.
like she's doing homework or something and he tries to be supportive and help but sees the exercises and dies inside
numbers & nonsense
Hálfdán Helgi Matthíasson (Væb) x Reader
Warnings: maths, physics
a/n: very short one bc i was busy today sorry xx also, i was pretty bad at maths & physics in school so forgive me if anything's wrong😔
478 words - not proofread
The room was quiet except for the soft scratching of your pen across the page. You were sprawled across the table, deep in the middle of some impossibly dense physics homework, your brow furrowed in concentration. Hálfdán was perched nearby, watching you with an almost reverent curiosity, like you were an alien life form that had somehow decided to study him instead.
“Sæta,” he said softly, leaning over your shoulder. “You’ve been at this for hours. Don’t you want to take a break?”
You shook your head without even looking up. “I can’t,” you mumbled. “If I stop now, I’ll lose my momentum.”
Hálfdán made a small, sympathetic noise, shifting a little closer so he could peek at what you were working on. “Can I help at all?” he asked, his voice hopeful. “Or at least keep you company?”
You paused, your pen hovering above the page. “You can try,” you said, your lips twitching at the challenge. “But fair warning, it’s a bit of a mess.”
He nodded solemnly and leaned in. You watched him as his eyes scanned the equations, his eyebrows drawing together almost immediately. A second later, he let out a small, strangled laugh. “What… what even is this?” he asked, tapping the page with a finger. “I see numbers and squiggles and… I’m pretty sure this one’s a cat, somehow?”
You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “It’s not that bad,” you said, though you had to admit the page did look like a secret code to anyone who wasn’t knee-deep in STEM work.
Hálfdán squinted at the lines of variables and integrals. “Okay, but this–” he pointed at an integral sign that stretched half the page “This just killed me. It’s so… long. And curvy. Why is it curvy?”
You reached out and patted his hand gently. “It’s calculus,” you said, as if that explained everything.
“Calculus,” he repeated, his tone somewhere between awe and horror. “I thought I was good at math, but this… this is another world. I’ll cheer from the sidelines.”
You leaned over and kissed his cheek, your own laughter fading into a fond smile. “That’s all I need,” you said. “Just someone to keep me from losing my mind.”
He grinned back at you, eyes bright. “You’ve got it,” he said, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I’ll make sure you get snacks and water and moral support. And I’ll try not to faint every time I look at those math monsters.”
“Deal,” you said, your heart full as you turned back to the page. And true to his word, he stayed there with you, humming little melodies under his breath, every so often making a face at your notes and saying, “Still can’t believe you understand this,” with so much admiration that it made the whole mountain of homework feel just a little less impossible.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺
a/n: re-reading this i kinda made him too stupid i think😭
Finished worst plus one last night and honestly I am in awe
I haven't properly read a fic in a while,, I've been struggling to find good oneshots in other fandoms,, never mind multiple parts,,
And I just randomly stumbled across this a few days ago when looking at Hálfdán stuff and now I'm just obsessed
You not only made me want to read again and satisfied an urge,, but you have inspired me to write again too (which is bad timing as it uni exam season rn lmaoo)
Anyways,, I just wanted to let you know you're wonderful and tysm 💞💖🌸✨️🤭🫶😍✨️🐛
wtf thank you sm!!?😭😭 that is so cute & i'm so happy i could motivate you!! ily!!!💘💘💘
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