#happy birthday mike everyone hates you

[pinkeoni]

Mike Wheeler and Audience Perception

(Or, Why Does Everybody Hate Mike?)

I want to stress right off the bat that this is not meant to be read as Mike hate AT ALL— this is a pro-Mike post I promise!! It just might take a lot of explaining on my end so bare with me.

I know that the general audience perception of Mike can be incredibly frustrating. Post vol. 2, and hell even during season 3, there's been a large amount of animosity towards Mike, because he isn't acting in accordance with the Mike that everyone fell in love with in seasons 1 and 2.

But here's the thing, the audience is supposed to dislike Mike.

Maybe I should clarify first, I'm not saying that the audience is supposed to dislike Mike FOREVER, but rather the audience is supposed to dislike Mike RIGHT NOW until season 5 airs and clears up a lot of his choices. And even if people do like Mike, which a lot of the smart ones do, then they are at least supposed to dislike his actions. Even the most hardcore Mike fans will admit that he has moments where he messes up, but understand the complex reasonings behind why he makes these mistakes.

I should clarify too that what I mean by "the smart ones" are the ones who see Byler as the likely outcome. Even regardless if you see Mike as gay or bi (I personally see him as gay, but that besides the current point) the only way to explain why Mike has been acting the way that he has is through his sexuality and feelings for Will, otherwise he really is being an asshole for no reason. Mike's true character is purposefully being withheld from the audience, so that they can make the reveal and it can completely recontextualize his character arc. Those that have it figured out (Bylers) are just ahead of where a typical audience member would be.

Let me put it this way:

GA that dislike Mike and MiIeven are watching the show correctly, even if they don't necessarily see Byler as an option yet.

Bylers that love Mike are one step ahead.

MiIevens that hate Mike see all the narrative information correctly, but are denying the truth.

MiIevens that love Mike are willfully changing what the narrative is presenting.

If Mike was truly acting exactly the way he was supposed to, then his actions would be more likable.

I've noticed that a ton of miIevens tend to dislike Mike. Not all, but a good number. They hate him because they believe exactly what they see on the surface level and that he's acting exactly the way he's supposed to. When Mike is ditching his friends and disregarding his interests in season 3, that's just Mike growing into his heterosexual self! Yes it's totally rude and out of character, but Mike is meant to be with El which means that he is doing exactly what he is supposed to do, right?

Is it possible to have this arc without Mike being unlikable? I mean, it’s not impossible, but it would be extremely difficult. The whole point is that Mike has not been acting like himself for the past two seasons, so it’s important to show that when he acts like this it is not a good thing, and this is not only proven through the audience’s perception but also through the characters perception in show. Mike gets called on his bullshit in universe by Will and Dustin! You are supposed to see that what he’s doing is strange!

Let me put it this way, if all of Mike's current actions were liked and supported by not only the audience AND the characters within the story— this would make the reveal that he hasn't been acting truthfully not work.

I’ll use a pretty robust example, let’s consider a character dynamic that, while not romantic, is widely loved by most audience members: Steve and Dustin.

Let’s say that in season 5, it’s revealed that Steve actually hates Dustin and doesn’t like being his friend. Not only would the audience strongly dislike that, but it wouldn’t match any of what was being shown in show. There’s no reason to believe that Steve doesn’t like Dustin, so that reveal would just feel cruel and cheap.

Let’s also say that Mike was actually a perfect boyfriend and friend for the past two seasons. He’s always able to say “I love you” to El. He isn’t possessive of her. He doesn’t ice out his friends (especially Will) just to be with her. He doesn’t try ti be someone he’s not. His actions are loved by the audience and the characters. And THEN it’s revealed that he’s gay and loves Will. Wouldn’t that feel off?

While Bylers may be used to being faced with intense homophobia from certain MiIevens and toxic fandom members, the typical GA member actually isn’t homophobic. Most GA don’t like MiIeven, but they’re indifferent to Byler because they don’t see it as a possibility quite yet because they don’t read into it as closely as we do. It’s not because they are media illiterate, it’s just because they watch the show casually. The general consensus that I actually saw from GA on twitter is that they actually wanted more of Will and Mike and were dissapointed with their lack of attention from the season.

The unfortunate thing about Mike and audience perception is that we have to wait for the payoff. There’s not really anything that can be done about that, it’s just how the television production cookie crumbles. I also don’t think that it’s a bad thing for Mike to have pronounced flaws, if anything it makes his character more interesting and dynamic. Some of my favorite characters in media are ones that are deeply flawed but have a redemption arc. Although, I guess this would be less of a redeption arc and more of a recontextualization arc? Either way, I’m excited for the audience to finally see Mike the way that they’re supposed to.

[munson-blurbs]

Can I request something with Eddie x reader in a long term relationship. They didn’t meet until their mid to late 20s. maybe they are out to dinner one time with his old highschool buddies and she hears them joke about how eddie always wanted to fuck a cheer leader. she gets the bright idea to buy a cheer leader out fit with a tiny skirt and pom poms and wears it for him one day

Oh, now this is what I'm talking about. Written with the gorgeous queen of fluffy smut, @corroded-hellfire 💚

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m! receiving), unprotected p in v, Reader wears a cheerleading uniform, mention of Eddie's crush on Chrissy

WC: 1.8k

Divider credit to @saradika

It’s not the first time you’ve met any of the guys from your boyfriend’s old Hellfire gang. It is the first time that you’ve been around them as a group, though. They’re much louder in a pack—not necessarily trying to shout, just be heard over the guy who is telling a story next to them. 

The guys are funny though and you’re enjoying getting a glimpse of what High School Eddie was like from those who got to experience it first hand. It wasn’t terribly long ago that they were all in high school together; you’re all only in your twenties. But Eddie seems to groan every time there’s a reminder that the youngest guys in the group can legally drink now. 

“So tell me more about this hellion during his younger years,” you say with a laugh, draping an arm over his denim-clad shoulders. “Because he claims to have been a total badass, but he’s such a teddy bear.” To emphasize your point, you smack a wet kiss to his cheek. 

Eddie blushes but doesn’t wipe it off; instead, he tilts your chin till you’re facing him and kisses you until the group throws wadded-up paper napkins at you both. 

“This guy was definitely not a teddy bear,” Lucas says. “I asked him to postpone one Hellfire meeting so I could play in the championship basketball game, and he put me on probation!”

You look at Eddie, slack-jawed. “Eds!” you chastise him teasingly. 

“It was the last campaign of the year!” Eddie rebuts. “Actions have consequences, Sinclair.”

Lucas rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his drink, using his free hand to flip off his friend. 

Dustin cackles at the exchange. “Yeah, he was pretty much an asshole to everyone.” His voice is mischievous as he waggles his eyebrows and adds, “except Chrissy Cunningham.”

“Ooh,” you mimic Dustin’s playful tone. “And who is Chrissy Cunningham?”

“Head cheerleader, cute and blonde, super sweet to, like, everybody,” Mike pipes up.

Eddie gets flustered, not because Chrissy was brought up, but he thinks hearing about his crush on her might upset or annoy you. He sputters over his words, which just riles him up even more. 

“I don’t think we need to, uh, talk about that,” Eddie says, shaking his head.

“Why? What happened?” you ask with a frown. It was no secret between you and Eddie that neither of you were popular in high school and had crushes that went unrequited. But Eddie never told you about anything particularly bad happening between him and a cheerleader.

“What?” Eddie asks before realizing what you mean. “Oh, no! Nothing happened. We spoke maybe a handful of times ever. I just didn’t think this would be something you would want to hear about…”

Eddie brow pinches in worry but you just laugh and wave a dismissive hand.

“Eddie, come on. Who wouldn’t have a crush on the sweet, pretty cheerleader? I mean, I had a thing for my school’s star basketball player back in the day. You know that.”

Lucas laughs. “You definitely would’ve hated the star basketball player at our school.”

“Kid was a total douche,” Jeff adds. “Made these obnoxious, over-the-top speeches that had everybody rolling their eyes.”

“So, like Eddie, but athletic,” Gareth chimes in, putting his hands up in surrender when Eddie shoots him a look and then breaks into a grin. 

The waiter brings out a chocolate cake, loudly singing Happy Birthday to Eddie, which promptly puts a stop to their bickering and taunting. The guys lock in on the dessert, serving Eddie the first slice before turning into barbarians over the second. 

You finally manage to snag a slice among the chaos, but your mind is elsewhere. If Eddie was as into cheerleaders like his friends claim, you might be able to finagle one last birthday surprise.

A week passes from the dinner-turned-impromptu-Hellfire-meeting. Eddie saunters through the door, tossing his keys on the counter. 

“Babe? You home?” His hair is kept in a low bun; it’s easier to work on cars with it out of his face. 

“In the bedroom!” you call back from behind a half-closed door. 

Eddie kicks his boots off in the general direction of the welcome mat. “How was your day, sweetheart?” he asks as he walks down the hallway towards your room. “Mine was pretty good. I just—holy shit.” He comes to a halt in the doorway, jaw dropping open as he stares at you. 

You lounge on the bed waiting for him, a green and white cheerleading uniform on. There wasn’t one with some yellow on it as well like Hawkins High’s had when you’d gone looking, but you didn’t think your boyfriend would mind. 

He stands frozen and it makes you let out a small giggle before trying to regain the seductive air you’d been going for. 

“Wh…What’s all this?” he manages, caught completely off-guard by your outfit of choice. 

“Just your own personal cheerleader,” you say nonchalantly, crooking your finger and beckoning him over. “Wanna see my pom-poms?”

His grin nearly splits his face in two. “Yeah—wait, do you mean, like, actual ones, or…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Ah, fuck it.” He grabs you and pulls you onto his lap. 

“So, do I get to see a cheer?” he asks with a smirk. “A little, ‘two-four-six-eight, who do we appreciate?’”

You kiss his neck and murmur, “kinda figured my mouth would be busy somewhere else.” Your lips down the pale expanse of bis torso and you unbuckle his belt. 

Eddie groans and leans back against the headboard, eagerly watching you. He lifts his hips enough so you can slide his pants and boxers all the way off and toss them aside. 

You make sure to keep your gaze locked on his as you start to stroke him, using his pre-cum to lubricate your palm. “Tell me what you need, baby.”

He inhales sharply, trying to remain focused. “Need you to suck me off.”

You get on your knees in front of him so he can see down your uniform top, and he twitches against your lips. Flattening your tongue against the base of his shaft, you lick up to the head and wrap your lips around the tip before slowly taking him into your warm, wet mouth. 

“Fuuuuuck,” Eddie breathes out, throwing his head back and exposing his Adam’s apple. “Thassit, just like that.”

The tang of pre-cum is salty on your tongue, and you lap it up gratefully. Your fingers dig into the flesh of his ass as you pull him towards you, your nose grazing his pubic hair. 

“So good, goddamn, honey,” he mumbles, more gibberish than logic, “take me so well. Givin’ me the best fuckin’ head of my life.”

You’re more than happy to continue this, cheeks hollowed and tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, eagerly anticipating his cum down your throat. 

Eddie has other plans. 

He begrudgingly steps back, his throbbing cock thwacking against his stomach. If he pulls out of a blowjob, it usually means—

“Bend over, princess.”

You do as he says, palms pressed into the mattress. He quickly flips up your skirt, exposing your bare ass. 

Eddie laughs triumphantly. “Oh, fuck yes.” He taps the head of his length against it before pushing down on your back, giving him a better view of your pussy. “Mine,” he growls in your ear. 

The moan that tumbles out of your lips from his words only increases tenfold when he pushes inside of you. It makes Eddie smirk in satisfaction as his hands grip your hips beneath the pleats of the skirt. His eyes slip closed as he loses himself in the feeling of you around his cock. 

You whine as Eddie bottoms out, fingers grasping at the blanket below you. “God, Eddie, yes.”

Eddie’s thrusts gain momentum and he pulls your hips back against him for every one, never missing a beat. “Shit, you’re so fucking good for me. Your pussy’s so goddamn tight, fuck.” 

“Mhm, uh-huh.” The drag of his cock against your walls leaves you speechless, only able to whine, no coherent thoughts in your head. 

“My cheerleader feels good, huh? Aw, baby,” he coos, “so good you can’t even talk, yeah?”

Even if you had the capability to answer, you wouldn’t have time before Eddie pulls out of you for the second time today and flips you onto your back. Your legs fall open for him immediately in this new position and he wastes no time pushing back into you. 

He leans over your body, slipping his hands up the top half of your uniform. “Most beautiful cheerleader I ever fuckin’ saw,” he purrs as his hands grope your chest.

Your legs wrap around his body, only pulling him deeper inside of you. “So good,” you slur, eyes half-lidded. You feel your orgasm crash over you, waves of pleasure rippling through your body. 

Eddie’s hands slip out of your top and run down your arms until he laces his fingers with yours. He lifts your hands over your head, keeping a tight grip on you as his hips pick up the pace. Now that you came, he can take what he needs. 

“So tight,” he mumbles, breathing heavily. You can tell that he’s close. “Gonna cum all over this pretty little uniform of yours, ‘kay?”

You can only nod, and he leans in and kisses you one last time before pulling out and painting you in his release. Sticky warmth coats the exposed strip of flesh between the top and skirt, some of it staining the uniform’s fabric. He moans out your name as he jerks the last of his spend out of his cock.

“Holy shit,” he exhales, drinking in the sight of you in your cheerleader outfit and covered in his cum. His sexy cheerleader wearing his cum. The thought has him almost up for another round already. 

He leans over to the nightstand and reaches for a tissue to clean you up, but you wave him off. Your hand catches his wrist and you softly run your fingertips up to his elbow.

“Leave it,” you tell him with a smirk. “I want it to stain.” You’ll wake up in the morning to it dried on the uniform, a reminder of tonight.

“Goddamn, baby.” Eddie lets out a breathy chuckle and flops down next to you, completely exhausted. “I was not expecting this, but I’m certainly not complaining.” 

“Well,” you say, a teasing lilt in your voice. You push up onto one elbow, and gaze at him knowingly. His hair is a mess, his chest is rising and falling rapidly. He looks wrecked, and it’s a beautiful sight. “You’d better drink some Gatorade, babe. Because this is only halftime.”

--

[foxcantswim]

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [The Party Isn't Over]

(gif by me)

Vanessa always spends her birthday alone... You, Mike and all the animatronics decide to change that. Contents: Fluff, Established Relationship Warnings: Just everyone being stupid tbh, (Vanessa teasing you?) WC: 2,066 (requested by @calicomarvel - Sorry it took so long ;w;)

Taglist available for future Vanessa/Reader fics (including fluff, smut, angst)

Vanessa's frown had not left her face for the entire day, a heavy cloud had loomed over her head. She hadn't enjoyed her birthday in years, nobody ever bothered to check up on her. A simple 'happy birthday' from her dad wouldn't hurt... but he was busy. That was always the excuse.

She had hoped that you would perhaps call her and wish her a happy birthday, but her hopes had been severely crushed. She loved you dearly and was proud to call you her girlfriend, but a part of her heart ached at the thought of you not caring about her on this day.

She held her phone in her hand, staring mindlessly at it - silently hoping for anyone to message or call her. Silently hoping for you to message or call her.

Being alone everyday wasn't something new to her really, but ever since she met you on your first night shift at Freddy Fazbear's she couldn't quite stay away from you. She was happy to have you around.

A heavy sigh escaped her as she looked sadly at the phone, she promised herself she wouldn't cry... she hadn't cried about being alone for years now, but now that she had you? It seemed to break her heart that you had forgotten about her.

That's when the the phone in her hand buzzed, her eyes springing to life as she fumbled to quickly answer.

Clearing her throat, "H-Hi? Hello?" she hadn't even bothered to check the number that had been calling her.

"Hey, Nessy!" it was you. Relief started to wash over Vanessa, "Just checking in on you."

Biting her lip in anticipation, Vanessa sighed, "I'm okay... What are you up to?"

"Oh you know... just about to head to work. Nothing special really."

"Mhm..." Vanessa hummed. She still waited in anticipation.

"Will you be visiting tonight? Keep little old me company?"

"Ah," she paused, "I don't know, I might stay in tonight. Haven't got a shift to get to so..."

She heard you whine quite audibly, "Nessyyyy. Please come over and say hi? You would make me the happiest person on Earth. You wouldn't leave me all alone for six hours would you?" you continued to plead with her. She knew you would be putting on some sort of puppy dog eyes to get what you wanted right about now.

Vanessa couldn't help but feel the sadness start to creep back in. Had you really forgotten her birthday? She had mentioned it to you last week, so surely you hadn't...

"I'll think about it, Y/N," she felt slightly bitter.

"I expect you to be here at midnight. On the dot. Or else."

A slight smile appeared on the blonde's face, "Okay, Y/N."

"Love you, Nessy!" you exclaimed, giddy at getting your own way yet again.

"I love you, too," Vanessa's voice was quiet before you hung up the phone.

"That was so painful," you groaned, throwing the phone onto the table, "She sounded so upset..."

"I'm sure this will make up for it," Mike reassured, waving towards the venue in front of him.

Both you and Mike had been hard at work for the past few hours, setting everything up in the pizzeria. With the help of the animatronics, of course. Vanessa had opened up to you a couple months ago about how much she hated birthdays and she never celebrated them. She had mentioned how she'd always wanted to have a party at Freddy's when she was a kid... So you and Mike had been planning to make that a reality.

Bonnie and Foxy expertly carried some tables, creating an excellent exterior for the huge fort you were building.

There were extra party lights strung around the room, food and drink on a table near the stage, and some presents next to it.

You had made sure that some of the arcade games were working properly, and the ball pit was thoroughly cleaned. You intended on doing anything and everything to make Vanessa's birthday special. Vanessa had expressed how she hated the ball pit but you were going to drag her in there whether she liked it or not.

Surprisingly, Chica and Freddy had come out of the kitchen with a cake balancing in the palm of Freddy's hand.

Well, it was sort of a cake? It had icing and frosting and sponge but... They were kind of all just mushed together into a big pile. It's the thought that counts.

"We have an hour to make sure everything is perfect," you told Mike.

Mike patted you on the shoulder, "It can't get much better than this."

You hurried the animatronics onto their stages and made sure they were in position, ready to perform as soon as Vanessa walked in. The animatronics were more than happy to help out, they had always loved Vanessa's company.

The lights were all off, and the music was ready to play.

You wanted everything to be perfect. Mike constantly reassured you that it was more than enough and Vanessa would love it.

You continued to nervously look at the clock as the minutes ticked on, Vanessa would be here any moment now. You hated lying to her and not calling her at all for her birthday, but you wanted this to be a huge surprise for her. Hopefully she would see that you truly cared about her, as did Mike and the animatronics.

Mike had been watching the cameras, looking out for Vanessa's car. He was anxious about how she would react, but nowhere near as anxious as you were. He knew that you wanted to impress her, and he was with you every step of the way.

That was when she finally arrived, her car pulling into the nearly empty parking lot.

Mike rushed out of the office and snapped his fingers, giving the signal.

The clock currently read 11:57, so technically it was still Vanessa's birthday. You were thankful that she was here a little earlier so you could actually tell her on the day.

The lights were promptly turned off, the animatronics in their places, and you and Mike were hiding by one of the tables placed by the 'Showtime' button. The button was primed to turn on all the lights and the music and release balloons from the ceiling.

You both looked at eachother as you heard Vanessa banging at the door, and using the buzzer. But of course neither of you got up to open it.

The silence in the room was deafening, you swear you heard Vanessa groan in annoyance as she jingled her keys.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the blonde opened the door. She called your name as she walked in, treading carefully in the dark.

As she made her way into the main room, Mike nodded at you with a smile. You slammed your hand onto the button and lights flicked on.

"Surprise!" you and Mike both jumped out from behind the table. The balloons fell from the ceiling and the animatronics started to put on a show, the music was loud but not too loud.

Vanessa looked like a deer that had been caught in the headlights, she looked at you and Mike with a mix of shock and confusion.

The clock read 11:59. You quickly ran over to Vanessa.

"Happy Birthday, Vanessa!" you pulled her into a hug, planting a soft kiss against her lips.

"Y-Y/N?" she stuttered, still in shock at what was even happening.

"Happy Birthday, Ness," Mike smiled as he walked over.

You pulled away from the hug, "God, I am so sorry I didn't tell you earlier, Nessy. I knew I would end up opening my mouth up about this surprise if I did."

Vanessa looked around the room at the bright lights and decorations, the animatronics all seemed to be looking towards her as they performed.

She felt tears spring into her eyes, "Y/N..." she started.

"Please don't tell me I did something wrong!" you quickly started to worry upon seeing her expression.

"No!" she exclaimed quickly, "No, not all. Just... you really did all this for me?"

You laughed in relief, "With the help of the animatronics of course."

Mike cleared his throat.

"And Mike too, I guess," you winked at him.

"I thought you forgot or..."

You knew that people in the past, including her own family, had forgotten Vanessa's birthday or just not bothered to contact her.

"Well... I didn't. Neither did Mike," you reassured her, you reached to grab her hand, "I know you haven't had the best luck with birthdays in the past, but I want to make this the best one you've ever had. I know how much you always wanted a party here at Freddy's when you were a kid, so we are making that a reality."

You dragged Vanessa over to the tables to show her the food and drink, and all the presents you and Mike had gathered for her to take home after the night was done.

Freddy and Chica had momentarily hopped off stage to proudly show off their 'cake'. Vanessa couldn't help but smile at the two.

"Bonnie and Foxy helped with the decorations. And these two made the most delicious looking cake ever," you smiled at them.

"Thank you so much," the blonde said to the two 'chefs'. And then looked over and Foxy who had casually jumped up on the main stage with Bonnie, "And thank you two!" she called over to them.

Mike had dragged both you and Vanessa over to the arcade games, declaring that he would be getting the high score on each game.

Long story short, he sucked at each and every one of them. Even Freddy had beat him at a game of skee-ball. He had quickly challenged the bear to other games.

You pecked Vanessa on the cheek before dragging over to the dreaded ball pit.

Vanessa rolled her eyes, her smile still present however, "Seriously, Y/N?"

You laughed and dragged her in without warning, "I did not spend three hours cleaning this thing out for nothing."

Vanessa had ended up standing in front of you, awkwardly pushing the balls out of the way in order to wrap you in a tight hug.

"You didn't need to do any of this, Y/N."

"I did. You deserve to know that you're loved, Nessy. I was this close to spilling the whole thing when I rang you earlier," a nervous laugh escaped you as the blonde rubbed a thumb across your cheek, "I just wanted to give you the best birthday ever... Even if it technically is the day after right now."

She surprised you by bringing you into a kiss, her arms wrapping around your waist to bring you in closer (if that was even possible).

You could feel the heat rise in your cheeks as she deepened the kiss.

"Get a room!" you heard Mike call over, causing the two of you to pull away.

Vanessa flipped him off as he chuckled.

She looked back at you, her gaze was soft, "Thank you, Y/N. Nobody has ever done something like this for me before. It means a lot."

"No worries, Nessy. I love you."

"I love you too, Y/N," she kissed your lips, almost featherlight. A smirk then plastered across her face as she leaned in close to your ear, "It might be my birthday... but I think you are the one who deserves a reward when we get back to my place."

You opened your mouth to say something, but all that escaped was a whimper as the blonde grazed her teeth along your neck teasingly. She pulled away from you and hopped out of the ball pit, leaving a flushed you alone with a stunned look on your face. She smirked at you as she walked away with a wink.

You cleared your throat as you exited the ball pit.

"Like I said. Get a room," Mike grimaced at you, his mind surely tainted after hearing what Vanessa had just said.

You flipped him off.

Taglist: @marvelwomen-simp ; @emiliaisdead

[californ1asnow]

Call Me Up Again - pt. 2 Mike Schmidt x Reader

Part two of All Too Well Angst!!! So much angst everyone I've decided to turn this into a miniseries, this post being the second part. I'll continue to link chapters as I post them This is also being updated on ao3 (cough cough) No warnings this time 1.9k words

Snowflakes fall silently, coating everything around them in a white dust. The wind blows with a crisp chill, nipping at all the rose-pink noses. It sends shivers down the backs of those who dare be out in this weather. The pumpkins and fake graveyard decor that had once littered every home’s front yard has long since been swapped for tinsel garlands and pine wreaths. 

The Schmidt residence beams with colored string lights and holiday music. A tall, sturdy evergreen sits patiently by the window. Its branches are decorated with years worth of homemade ornaments, ranging in all size and age from both Mike and Abby. The red skirt beneath it falls relatively empty of presents, only donning the few small ones Mike could afford to buy this year. They’re wrapped pathetically in an old birthday paper, the only wrapping Mike could find to reuse. 

Usually, the tree is so full that he’s had to store things in his closet, but that was when you were still a part of their Christmas. Stockings hung happily above the fireplace and a love so innocent it wraps the house in a warm glow. However, it’s void of that feeling now, instead Mike is left to pick up the pieces that you once fit together. Abby doesn’t understand why you don’t come over anymore, or why Mike has been so quiet lately. All she knows is that something went wrong, and now everyone is upset. She’s stopped bringing up your name in conversation when talking to Mike, because it always ends with him withdrawn and retreating to the solidarity of his room. 

That didn’t stop her from drawing you, though. Sometimes she’d sit at her desk, tears collecting in the well of her eyes, and doodle old memories of the three of you. She remembers them being happy, but by the time the crayons were set aside and the picture was finished, it was a glum mess of dark blues and frowning faces. 

After a drawing is finished she’d slip past Mike’s room, quietly tiptoeing out the front door, and make a break for the house across the street. Your house. She’d work fast, her feet carrying her quickly to and fro. It was unclear from her perspective whether you paid attention to what she’d give you, but by the time she slipped a new piece of paper underneath your door, the old one she had gifted you was gone. 

Mike was unaware of it all. 

He had found a new job in town where he could bury all his thoughts. It was working construction for a local contractor, a job that certainly wasn’t ideal but it paid better than what he’d been used to. Unfortunately, it required longer hours and ate up all his free time, meaning Abby needed a new babysitter. A job that was once happily filled by your company, now replaced with an afterschool program suggested to him from a flyer he found at work. He hated the thought of her sitting in essentially another classroom, surrounded by strangers and snotty kids, but it was his only option left. 

With a third of his paycheck dedicated to it, Abby now spends her weekdays at the nearby YMCA. 

The first time he told her about the new program didn’t go over very well. He remembers it clearly.  

“Abby please,” his irritated voice interrupts her incessant protesting, “listen, it’s the only place that can watch you.” 

“No it’s not!” She yelled at him, her finger pointing to your house across the street, “I want her back!”  

A pang of guilt struck his chest at her words. The lack of your presence has clearly been taking a toll on the both of them, but it’s the first time Abby’s ever been so vocal about it. He crossed his arms with a sigh, watching his little sister stare up at him with solemn eyes. Her lip quivering ever so slightly, evident that she’s holding back tears. 

He crouches down to her level, just like he had done to you so many nights ago, “I’m sorry,” he pleaded with her, “but she’s not coming back right now.” 

Her head shook with disbelief, stubbornly stuck in her spot, “Then make her come back.” 

–

You’re not sure when the Mike shaped hole in your heart stopped aching, but it���s significantly less sore compared to a fresh wound. That’s not to say the constant reminder of him and Abby living across the street from you doesn’t sting. It’s hard enough to ignore all his calls, but trying to get to your car while avoiding his gaze is even worse. Eventually, he gave up on contacting you by the third month of radio silence. It hurt both of you, but you knew deep down neither of you could continue functioning like how you were. 

The back and forth pull of his affection took too big of a toll on your mental well being. You can remember every moment down to the exact detail of how much you craved for him to just do something, anything. 

All those times you held him in your soft embrace whispering sweet nothings in his ear, reassuring him everything will be okay, just for him to turn around the next day and never bring it up again. Or when you’d run your warm fingers through his hair to calm him down after a panic attack, and he’d let his head rest in your lap. Words of affection dripping off his lips like a rich honey, warming you up from the inside out. Then he’d disappear for a while, claiming he needed some space to figure stuff out, all the while you’d beg and plead for him to tell you what’s on his mind, only for him to give you nothing back.You stood by him regardless though, keeping a silent promise that you’d always be there for him when he needed it, a love that was never reciprocated back. 

A long sigh escapes from you, eying the new delivery that just appeared by your door. You shuffle towards it weakly, unsure if you really wanted to torture yourself by looking at it. It’s one of those things that curiosity will drive you to do, unable to ignore it like a pedestrian passing by a car crash. The paper crinkles under your touch, unfolding it reveals the familiar childlike style of Abby’s drawings. A man drawn in green crayon frowns up at you, holding hands with an equally sad looking child. Your gaze drifts over to the other side of the paper, highlighting a person relatively similar to you standing alone with their arms crossed, angry. Your heart hurts at the sight of it, knowing that Abby is implying that you’re angry at the two of them. You shake your head quickly, trying to evade any tears that threaten to spill. It’s not fair for Abby to be caught in the middle of whatever is going on between you and Mike, and you realize that. 

The sound of your phone ringing breaks your train of thought, and when you check the caller ID your breath hitches. Standing in the middle of your living room frozen with indecisiveness, you stare at the screen while chewing on the bottom of your lip. Without thinking, you accept the call.

“Hello?” 

There’s a sound on the other end of the line, somewhere in between a choke and a gasp, and then your name is mumbled out in disbelief. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually pick up…” Mike’s voice is still a little startled, mimicking the internal panic in your chest. 

You suck in a deep, steady breath before answering, “Yeah, I didn’t think so either.” There’s a slight pause from both of you, unsure how to continue the conversation. It’s felt like years since you last heard his voice. 

“Are you…doing okay?” 

“...Yeah.” Your answer is unconvincing, but Mike doesn’t have any ground to be able to question it. So it’s left like that, timidly dangling in the air between you both. 

You hear shuffling in the background, and a smaller voice asking a question before he dismisses it. Your heart lurches thinking about how Abby is there, trying to figure out who her older brother might be on the phone with. It almost makes your cool demeanor crack, urging you back into your savior complex. 

“Uh, sorry about that,” your phone crackles back to life, “anyways, I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Oh okay.” 

“Can you,” he stops, leaving you on edge, “meet me somewhere?” 

The lack of response from you causes him to start rambling, going on about how it would be better to talk in person, and how it would be easier if you could see each other’s expressions. Soon afterwards, a string of apologies ensue, and you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. 

“Okay Mike. Promise me this will be worth it.”

“I promise.”

–

A young waitress stares nervously at your booth. Orders continually piling up, hungry customers giving her rude looks whenever she ignores their impatient huffs. It’s been a good thirty minutes since you first showed, and she’s checked up on you at least a handful of times by now. Mike had suggested this little diner down the street from your house, and you agreed to meet here. 

However, it seems like you’re the only one who showed up. 

Your back is pressed against the uncomfortable foam board of your seat, a leg bobbing rapidly out of habit. You pick at the pills on your sweatshirt sleeve, trying to avert your gaze from the sympathetic waitress. Prior to your predicament, she had asked if you were dining alone, and you told her no. However, It’s starting to look like you just might be. With anger bubbling inside of you, a voice in the back of your head is saying you should have seen this coming. It’s so typical of Mike to make promises that he’s unwilling to keep. 

The air smells like grease, mostly from the old fryers sitting in the back of the kitchen. Oil bubbling and brooding in their tanks, waiting for someone to drop a morsel of food so it could shrivel in the scalding lard. Stomach stirring with disgust, a wave of nausea washes over you. It’s unclear exactly what’s causing it, you’d like to give credit to the sleazy restaurant, but something deep down points to the lack of a certain person’s company. 

You keep your attention trained on the dwindling heat of your coffee. Both corners of your mouth scrunch downwards at the smooth ceramic now held in your cold hands. When did watching a cup of coffee become so interesting? 

“Would you like some more?” The sweet but timid waitress asks you, now back at her spot beside your table.  

A joyless smile flashes across your face, a futile attempt at masking your dejection. Pushing the cup forward, silently accepting a fresh refill from her kettle. 

“He’s not worth it.” She adds, tipping off your mug. Her eyes refuse to meet yours as she does so, and you are thankful for that fact. 

“No,” you respond back, “he never is, I guess.” Your voice is shaky, as are the hands that are folded in your lap. 

Mike is not worth the years of being hurt and pushed away. Not worth the tears that fall after coming home from a night spent at his house, inconsolably sobbing because you know no matter what you do it leads back to the same thing. To give up all your time, love, and patience just to receive nothing in exchange. 

It’s not worth the unrequited love. 

“Can I have the check please?” You ask quietly, still avoiding the gaze of the girl next you. 

Her head shakes with pity, fingers wrapping around the arm of the kettle, “it’s on the house.”

TAGLIST - @wriothesleysbimbo @psbc @victimsofadownn @that1lxnlybxch @callsignwidow

[sleepyhutcherson]

Heyy, can you make a Mike fic where reader has a lot of money and buys things for Mike and Abby and Mike always feels guilty about it? I love your job!!

-💋

get anything you want.

paring: mike schmidt x rich!gn!reader

summary: mike has never tolerated you paying for anything on dates, let alone even buy him anything, so when you show up to his front door insisting to take him and abby to the mall he’s a little reluctant, knowing you’re going to try and spoil him, something he really doesn’t want.

—or, in which: you take your boyfriend and his little sister shopping in attempt to spoil them.

word count: 2.0k

tags: established relationship, use of y/n, fluff, rich!reader (but it’s very briefly mentioned), abby being the sweetest, most adorable girl <3, reassurance — let me know if i’m missing something!

author’s note: hii guys, so i genuinely hate this so much and have so many drafts of this (i have so many versions of this request) because i struggled so much with it :| anyway, i swear i want to get to everyone’s request and i have the time so i hope i can manage! sorry for being really absent on here but i was dealing with some things but im hopefully back!! thank you anon for the request, and im sorry this is so late :( i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! xx

Mike didn’t like going to the mall—especially not on a Saturday. He dreaded the idea of going shopping with you but only because you always insisted on paying for his things. He couldn’t fathom why you would even want to do that for him. Mike was always careful with his money, he didn’t earn much at his shitty job but the money he did earn always went to the house bills, food, and Abby—the more important things. He was aware that you made really good money at your job but he never wanted you to use your money on him.

But of course, Mike had a hard time telling you no so when you suggest going to the mall all he can do is agree, especially once he sees the excitement in Abby’s eyes.

You hold onto Abby’s hand as she walks in between you and Mike, she was talking over all the loud chaos in the mall, and Mike couldn’t help but feel pleased with how happy his little sister seemed at this moment.

He hated how crowded the mall was, how kids were running around, some crying, some laughing obnoxiously loud—it was all just a little too much for Mike, but seeing that look in Abby’s big, brown eyes, he could tolerate it for a bit.

“So you only come for your birthdays?” You ask Abby, bringing Mike back to reality. He adored how good you were with her, it made his heart quicken. You were always so sweet towards Abby, going out of your way to play with her, ask her questions, and even participating in drawing lessons she insisted you needed.

Abby nods. “Yeah, and Mike lets me get ice cream and a toy!” She says with bright eyes. Her birthday was a couple of months ago and being back at the mall filled her with those memories she cherished with her older brother.

It was apparent how grateful she was for that yearly trip to the mall; she never complained about not coming more often. Mike had told her that the mall was a special place so why not come by on a special day? That made sense to the 10-year-old girl and she never argued to come more often.

“How about if you find something you really want, I’ll get it for you.” You suggest. Both siblings turn their attention to you in sync and you can’t help but smile at how alike they can be at times. You come to a halt, causing Mike and Abby to stop as well, you point out to the front of you, “look, Build-A-Bear is just over there, you can take a look inside and if you see something you want I’ll get it for you.”

You can feel Mike’s eyes on you as you speak to his little sister. “Really?!” Abby beamed, eyes so puppy-like they mirrored some you were all too familiar with.

“Of course. Get anything you want.” This excites Abby, you can tell by the way her eyes go wide along with her smile. Her reaction made you smile.

You meet Mike’s gaze now, noticing that stern, guilt-ridden look on his face that you’ve seen on him before—specifically whenever you try to pay for things. “Is that okay?” You ask him then.

His lips are in a thin line. He turns his attention to Abby then, “Abs, why don't you go get one of those bouncy balls from that quarter machine?” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out some extra change.

“Okay, thanks!” She takes the change, skipping over to where a few quarter machines are displayed; some with candy and others with little trinkets. She was still in sight—Mike made sure of that every time.

“You okay?” You ask your boyfriend, sensing you have upset him. You knew it was hard for him to accept any kind of help, especially when it came to you offering to buy anything for him or Abby. He wasn't angry, he just felt bad. He looked at you with those tired brown eyes that you were oh so struck by every time, didn’t matter how many times you’ve looked into them.

“Yeah,” he replies, taking a minute before continuing, not knowing exactly how to word what he wants to say. Maybe because he’s told you before so many times. “I just—I don’t want you wasting your money on us.” He says as gently as he can.

“Mike, it’s not a big deal.” You say. And you mean it. Mike and Abby had become two of the most important people in your lives and you wanted to help them however you could. “I know I should’ve asked you first, but I just wanted her to get her something.”

Mike admired this about you, how you were willing to buy something for Abby even though you didn't have to. But still, he felt shitty about it, it didn’t feel right. Even though you were the one who offered, he felt like he was taking advantage of your money.

You notice the guilt on Mike’s face and immediately move to cup his face, letting your hands rest against the sides of his face, feeling his stubble against your palm. He's a little surprised by this; you see the way his eyes widen a little at your touch and you giggle at how adorable his reaction was.

“Hey,” you say, your voice soothing to his ears. You look up at him, his eyes immediately softening upon seeing the small precious smile on your lips. “Look, I understand if you don't want to but I would love to buy you both something today. You rarely come to the mall so just please let me spoil you both just today?”

Mike’s hands are on your waist now, his thumb softly rubbing at your clothed skin. He knows how stubborn you are and knows that you won’t give up on this—plus, he doesn’t think he has the heart to tell Abby no after you already offered to buy her something. “Fine,” he agrees, but before you can get too excited: “but only Abby.”

He won’t let you pay anything for him. It’s not like anything in the mall ever really caught his eye anyway.

You smile, pecking his lips softly. “Thank you.” You were a little disappointed that he denied you from getting him something but you weren’t giving up that easy; you knew a place in the mall that Mike was an absolute sucker for, where there was a chance he would be tempted to stop at.

Abby returns with a bouncy ball in hand, thrilled with that until you remind her of Build-A-Bear. She yaps on about her collection of stuffed animals she has at home and how thrilled she was about adding another to it the short walk to the store.

Mike is quiet the entire time you and Abby are looking for a plushie for her to pick out—she was debating between a rabbit or an actual bear. You catch Mike looking at the prices with a certain look on his face, giving his arm a gentle squeeze, reassuring him that it was okay. And it really was.

He tried to focus on just how incredibly happy Abby looked right now which was the most important thing. It warmed his heart seeing her so happy, the way her eyes glistened under the lights, how wide they got whenever they landed on another toy. God, did it make Mike smile just seeing her like this. He decided to focus on that, not the guilt that was eating him.

“What did you name it?” Mike asks, holding Abby's hand as the three of you continue walking around the mall.

Abby was clutching onto the brown rabbit she picked out that was dressed in a purple onesie that you let her get. “Baby. Y/n gave me the idea! They said if you move the letters around in my name it spells out ‘Baby’.” She explained with her focus entirely on her new friend.

Mike had never noticed that, he smiled warmly at that, finding it rather sweet. “That’s nice,” he says, his eyes averting to you. He was holding your hand, this time he was in between the two of you. He wanted to hold your hand, he wanted to thank you for this, for everything you do.

For a while, the three of you walk through the mall leisurely. You make a few stops at some stores, making some purchases you had intended to make. Until you finally lead Mike down to where you were so sure he couldn’t resist.

“Should we go home now?” Mike asks, holding some of your shopping bags.

The food court was right by the exit. “You guys want ice cream?” You reply instead. Mike’s eyes light up at the suggestion, his eyebrows raising a little. God, he was so adorable!

“Yes!” Abby answers, with her rabbit—Baby, still being hugged by her.

“Do you want some?” You ask Mike with a menacing smirk on your face, knowing he wouldn’t let down some ice cream.

He bit the inside of his cheek, debating whether he should spend some of his money on ice cream. He didn’t mind getting some for you and Abby, the real guilt came whenever he got himself something. “Uh…”

“Come on, let's go get some.” You don’t even let him respond, you know him well enough. You drag the two Schmidts towards a small ice cream shop where there was luckily not a line, just a middle-aged woman with her teenage daughter.

You stand behind them, looking up at the menu with the flavours displayed. “What are you getting Abs?” You ask, looking down at her.

“Birthday cake,” she replies. It was her go-to order.

“Me too,” you decide, not having an appetite for the other flavours. “What about you, Mike?” You start taking out your wallet, Mike is distracted as he tries deciding on what to get from the menu.

“Maybe…a peanut butter shake.” He says slowly, still eyeing the other options. “Yeah, I think I’ll just get that.”

You don’t say anything as you’re just about next in line. You order everyone’s orders politely, earning a smile from the girl who is taking your order. She tells you your total and you see Mike reach for his wallet but you win him, handing the girl the cash. “Your order will be out in a moment.” She smiles and you thank her, moving to a side to wait with Abby and Mike.

“I should’ve known you would do that,” Mike mumbled, standing with his arms crossed over his chest. You knew he was trying to come off as angry but you couldn’t help but think how hot his arms looked.

“Oh, come on, Mike,” you whine a little, inching closer to him. He can’t stay mad at you for too long, he never has been able to. He wraps his arms around your waist, trying his best not to smile. Of course, he was filled with how you looked up at him with such adoration. “Can’t I buy my boyfriend a shake?” You say with a teasing tone.

“No,” he replies, looking down at you. “I can pay for my things too, you know?”

“I know,” you did know. You just wanted to treat him sometimes. He deserved him. If you could—if he allowed you to—you would spoil him to the fullest. “But I don’t mind paying for things, especially for things you and Abby need. I really don’t.”

God, he didn’t deserve you. He thought that—he wondered at times how he got so lucky with you. He doesn’t argue it any longer, only because he doesn’t want to right now, not saying that he will just continue letting you pay for things like this but he just doesn’t want to continue with this. He just wants to show you and tell you how much he appreciates you. How much he loves you.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. He pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you. He leans down to whisper in your ear, “thank you.” such a simple thing, but the genuineness in his voice and the small kiss he plants just below your ear afterwards makes you cherish it.

taglist: @cancelledkaley @stanheights-boyfriend @ploty-twist @st4r-b0ylover @laurrrelise @joshfutturman @gryffindorsblog @sofiehutch @obsessivemuso-withnofriends @helen-on-earth @fallingboba @cassiecasluciluce @maticka @jhutchissupercool

thank you for reading and for all your support <3

[imfinereallyy]

@henderdads posted this about domestic fluff and I realize that I love this trope and I just don’t write enough of it, and I wanted to give her a little treat to read. Mostly because her tags when she reblogs on my post give me absolute joy, I laugh every time.

Two things might come as a surprise when getting to know Steve Harrington. The first being he didn’t actually like parties. He likes making other people feel good, wants to make them happy. Hence why for years, he lets Tommy and Carol wreak havoc on his house. It makes them happy and, for a short while, makes most of Hawkins High happy. Steve, in retrospect, has learned to regret this since he has now gained a reputation for being a party king, despite not throwing one in years, but he knows all too well how hard it is to let go of a high school reputation.

The second surprising fact is that Steve Harrington hated his birthday. Well, maybe hate wasn’t the right word, but he has incredibly low expectations for his birthday. Either everyone forgets his birthday, or somehow Steve is reminded that he is an inconvenience.

“Sorry sweetie, your dad has a business meeting that day.”

“Dude, I have a baseball game in that night could we do something another day?”

“I’m late! I know, we stayed up all night playing D&D. I even forgot to call Suzie!”

Steve isn’t necessarily hurt per se when these things happen. He knows that some people, more than others, are really trying. That it’s human to make mistakes. But Steve doesn’t like to get his hopes up; that’ll be much better than that.

There is also the more commonly now known fact that Steve doesn’t like being the center of attention. And birthdays come along with a lot of that. Sure, Steve wants someone to pay attention to him, really listen to what he has to say, but he has long since out grown the desperate need to have everyone look at him.

It is why it is such a surprise the upside down crew throws him a 24th birthday party.

Steve always thought something like this would upset him, but he is delightfully warm at the sight of all his friends, all of his family, inside Robin and Nancy's apartment screaming,

“Surprise, Dingus!”

Steve can’t believe she got everyone to say that.

After the shock of seeing them all packed like sardines wearing party hats, Steve can’t help but smile.

Eddie walks up to him, placing a hat on his head and a soft kiss on his cheek. “I tried to stop them,” Eddie whispers. “I know you don’t like parties, but they just wanted to show how much they love you. It was hard to say no.”

Steve turns to Eddie, a man who knows him inside and out and knows he can’t lie to him. “I thought I would hate this, but I don’t. It’s perfect.” He kisses Eddie on the lips, just as soft as the one before.

“Good, because I really didn’t try to stop them.” Eddie smiles into the kiss.

“Ew!”

“Gross!”

“Get a room!”

Various shouts across the room cause the couple to giggle and pull apart. Eddie flips them all off, “It’s been four years, assholes! Grow up.”

Eddie runs off to particularly chase Mike, who actually hasn’t said anything but did make a face, and Steve can’t help but be overwhelmed by joy.

🎉🦇🎉🦇

Hours later, after the cake has been cut and the presents have been shared, and his kiddos are definitely way too drunk, the party doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. And Steve, who is having fun but growing antsy since he slowed down on drinking years ago, isn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He doesn’t want to ruin the fun or make anyone think he didn’t have a good time. This is one of the best birthdays, if not the best one, he’s ever had. But Steve is getting overwhelmed and worn out. He isn’t really tired, but being social has reached its capacity for the night.

Even so, he can’t help but laugh at Robin as she tells a story about the most recent disaster of her sign language class, where kids keep accidentally swearing instead of the proper words.

Eddie catches his eye across the room; he looks happy as he talks to Hop and Wayne. But even mid-conversation, across the sea of people, he tugs his helix piercing over his right ear twice.

It’s their signal for, “Do you want me to come over?”

Steve rubs the scar over his left eye twice, “Yes please.” It means.

Eddie excuses himself and makes his way to Steve. “Hey, baby.” He interrupts Robin mid-rant, who makes a sound of drunken protest. “Did we feed Mrs. Pierson’s cat today?”

Another signal, which translates, “Do you want to go home?”

And Steve knows he can just tell Eddie yes, and they can stay at the party, and Steve will have fun, and he’ll be happy, but it isn’t what he wants. What he wants is to be at home with their own cat Beelzebub, snuggled up in their bed. So Steve says, “Shit, I don’t think we did.” Yes, please. Let’s go home.

Eddie acts quickly. They make their rounds, say goodbyes, and make their excuses. Everyone lovingly pokes at their forgetfulness. The couple insists everyone stays and enjoys themselves. Steve thanks everyone with individual hugs.

Steve and Eddie hold pinkies the entire walk home, down the streets of Indianapolis. The dark night blanket of night, and the never-ending sound of the city, keeping them safe enough to risk the intertwined digits.

When they make it home, they say nothing. They unwind slowly. Sharing kisses, delicately take off each other's clothes, hum into each others mouths. There is nothing rushed, or rough; they have time now. There will be moments for that later.

And in their journey from the front door to the bed, Eddie kisses the place where Steve’s shoulder and neck meet. It’s his signal for “I love you.”

Later, when they are tangled up in the sheets, heavy breaths slowing down, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, Steve leans up and kisses the tip of Eddie’s nose. It’s his signal for “I love you more.”

Eddie’s smile back says, “that just isn’t possible.”

“Thank you for today.” Steve finally speaks out loud, playing with Eddie’s fingers.

“Oh, it isn’t over yet, baby.” And Eddie jumps out of bed naked, running out of the room.

Steve can’t help but cackle at his boyfriend's antics. There is a sudden thump on the bed; Steve peeks down to see their cat making his home on the end of their bed like he knows they are finally done for the night. “Hey, bee.” Steve scratches him behind his ear, earning a resounding purr from him. A little to the left, it means.

Eddie comes back into the room and dives back into the bed, bouncing Beelzebub but not startlingly him enough to move. Steve supposes he’s used to his father's antics. “Okay, I would tell you to close your eyes, but I know you’re not going to listen, so I’m just going to hand them to you.”

Steve giggles and grabs the pieces of paper in his hands and his heart stops. “Eddie.”

“Steve.” Eddie’s grin is wide.

“These are three tickets to see Madonna.”

“Yup.” Eddie pops his ‘p’ clearly proud of himself. “One for you, one for Robs of course, and one for me.”

Steve whispers in awe, “But you hate Madonna.”

Eddie brushes the hair out of Steve’s face, “Please, no one can hate Madonna.” Eddie’s eyes turn soft, “Besides, you love her, and you love me. It only felt fair to have us both in the same place. And you’d worry the entire time if I wasn’t there.”

Steve throws his arms around Eddie, squeezing him tight. Hoping he can translate how much he loves this man through it. Steve loves making other people happy, but no one has loved making Steve happy, quite like Eddie. “I love you so much,” Steve says once he leans back.

Eddie kisses the place where his shoulder and his neck meet. I love you. Eddie kisses the tip of his nose. I love you more. Finally, he holds Steve’s face and says aloud,

“I love you too.”

***

Was this perhaps inspired by the fact I turn 24 in a week and a half? Maybeee. I’m a lot like Steve in this where I have such mixed feelings about my birthday. I’m feeling a lot of anxiety about it if I’m honest, and I don’t have high hopes.

Unlike me, I don’t have a partner like Eddie, but Steve deserves the world and I wanted him to have some loving and domestic fluff. The idea that these two have secret signals is an important headcannon to me, and I would love to see others take on it.

I hope @henderdads you enjoyed this if you made it this far. It was a lot of fun to write. :)

[light-lanterne]

imagine, if you will, six-year-old mike wheeler freaking out because today is will's birthday and karen and joyce arranged for the celebration to happen at the wheeler's (away from a certain someone). and it has to be perfect because will deserves perfection, but it's already going terrible because karen bought blue balloons (instead of yellow) and the candy they have are reese's cups (instead of pieces) and the toy they got will is a stuffed bear (instead of a tiger).

so he's as anxious as a six-year-old can be because he wants to impress his bestest friend but his mom wouldn't listen to him and now it's all a mess >.<

he's pacing around his room, eyeing his closet every ten seconds because even the sweater he's wearing is the wrong one ("will likes the grey one better, mom!") and he doesn't know how to make the day better.

and that's how nancy finds him, on her way to her room: a bundle of nerves so unlike mike that it's actually freaky. she asks him what's wrong and he breaks down and starts ranting about how everything is wrong and how will is going to hate the day and he'll never want to speak to mike again because everything was so terrible and he's going to start hanging out with greg freaking mccorkle instead and-

nancy stops him. tries to reason with him about how will is probably going to love the day nonetheless and mike is doubtful. he's so dejected he just sits down in his bed all defeated and nancy's not sure what to do,,,

,,,until she gets an idea. it's silly and it probably won't do much, but it might just be enough to ease mike's anxiety~

so she goes to her room, grabs a nice yellow ribbon, and returns to mike's side. she ties it around his head so there's a little bow atop his hair and mike's very confused because "aren't bows girly?"

she shuts him down and the bell rings at that moment, so she sends him downstairs and karen's a little confused, but doesn't question mike's antics because the byers are right there and she can't scold him anymore. so she opens the door and greets everyone, while a shy mike stands by the stairs hoping that his stupid sister's plan worked.

will takes one look at him and immediately decides this is the best birthday present ever.

- the end -

(just a silly idea i had. happy birthday to the pretty will byers~)

[madelynraemunson]

Bonus scene 𓆩♡𓆪

from the CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT universe (18+)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

timeline: 015, THIS SCENE, 016** | ** = smut

Eddie has an important question to ask you on your birthday.

contains: fluff, physical touch, flirting, loverboy!eddie, romantic eddie, implied history of abuse from billy

wc: 1k words

*play this while you read to really be immersed in st nostalgia* 🥹 (if you want)

♡

“Oh no,” you breathe.

Everything starts to make more sense when you see Steve waiting for you at Hellfire’s doors. He’s got the smuggest look on his face. You quickly try to turn and run the other way, already embarrassed. But the former Star Athlete is faster, immediately lunging at you to drag you into the club.

“Nope!” Harrington protests.

“Steve-” you begin.

“No no no no,” he shakes his head. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”

They’re all gonna see you like this. You hate to admit it, but you had just spent your entire commute crying — evident by your raccoon eyes — because you thought everyone (except for Billy) had forgotten your birthday.

Robin and Vicky were already out of the house by the time you woke up. Max, you assumed, got a ride from Steve to their new barista job. Chrissy turned down a pre-shift ‘Hot Girl Walk’, and Eddie never called. It was starting to feel like the most Adult birthday ever, but by a long shot not the worst.

“Put me down!” you persist.

Birthdays suck. Especially when you share one with your abuser. But you’re in a new era now. An era where you are loved, celebrated, and protected.

“SURPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SHY GIRL!”

You’re bombarded by obnoxious kazoos and party hats, streamers and confetti in all shapes and colors, and what looks like a homemade birthday cake in Jane (Mike’s girlfriend)’s hands, decorated with funky, florescent candles, and crafty red hearts that overpowered every inch of the thick white fondant.

“Oh my god,” you beam.

Max, Robin and Vicky. Chrissy, Argyle, Nancy, Jonathan, and Henry. Will, Lucas, Dustin, Mike, Jane, and Erica who also just had a birthday (she turned 18 last week). Steve. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. All the faces you’ve grown to know and love since moving to Hawkins, all together in one room to celebrate YOU.

“We were trying so hard to keep this a secret,” Steve explains as he gives you a hug. “I’d say we did a pretty good job.”

“Yeah sorry we couldn’t get a better location,” Mike adds. “Chuck E Cheese was fully booked so Hellfire was the next best thing.”

“You guyssss,” you begin to sob. “This is oddly perfect. Thank you.”

“Well,” Jane says. She holds the cake up to your face. “There's no sense in waiting any longer. Make a wish!”

You close your eyes. I wish for life to always be this peaceful.

And when you open your eyes, you see Eddie in front of you, with a beautiful rose bouquet and a bag in his hands.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

His eyes are twinkling like a kid who woke up early on Christmas morning. You greet him with a warm hug to which he uses that opportunity to affectionately rub your back. You hear some soft “aww”s in the background, but you’re too infatuated with the man in front of you to jokingly scorn at whoever said it.

“How’d you know it was my birthday?” you ask him.

“You can find out lot of stuff from paperwork,” Eddie winks at you. “Specifically your resume. Which, might I say, is very impressive.”

“Why, thank you, sir,” you giggle.

You can tell the sir made Eddie’s stomach do somersaults. Completely blushing now, he hands you your gift in the form of a bag, ushering you to open it — right here — in front of everybody.

"You didn't have to..." you mutter quietly.

You take the bag from him.

"Yet… I did," Eddie spews confidently. He watches as you unwrap your gift. “I’d get you strippers but then it’d feel like work. And your bday should never feel like work.”

You nudge him as you roll your eyes. Such a fucking cornball.

But then you become the cornball. A tear begins to form in your eyes when you look at all your gifts. The roses. A custom metalhead Build-A-Bear with a leather jacket and jeans whose certificate reads “Eddie Bear”, and a gold plated charm bracelet from Everlasting Memories with your name engraved on it. But just when you think you had everything, Eddie scoops up the last one from the bottom. It’s a small wooden sign with a message on it.

CAN I BE YOUR BOYFRIEND?

“Oh my god…” is all you can say.

His voice is as gentle as the fingers he uses to patiently graze your arm. "So can I?"

The tear that formed in your eye finally trickles its way down your rosy red cheeks. "Of course you can."

Then you two share a kiss, eliciting an even louder swarm of “aww”s than the ones before, and generating a reaction from nearby, a very curious dancers.

“I hope you know how special you are to each and every one of us,” Eddie says to you. “Especially me, haha.”

You wipe the happy tears away from your eyes.

“It sure feels like it.”

Eddie gives you the day off and you use it to stuff your face and play board games with all your friends. Eventually after the short festivities you stay behind to chill with everyone for a bit. Then you go your own way to start making dinner, which you insisted on, at home.

When you get home, you’re surprised with another text message from Billy.

Billy Hargrove

I’d say the move has helped us a lot. I have room to miss you 🤣

You smile as you answer back.

To be better days ❤️ Happy birthday, brother. I miss you tons.

Billy Hargrove loved “To better days ❤️ Happy birthday, brother. I miss you tons.”

After your convo with Billy, you make your way over to the freezer to grab and defrost the chicken. Tonight’s menu consists of chicken, greens, and potatoes for dinner, followed by some birthday muffins Bob Newby had his bakers make at his coffee shop (courtesy of Max and Steve) for dessert.

Next, you begin to set the table, making sure to make seven settings for tonight: you, Max, Robin, Vicky, one for Eddie, and one for Wayne.

And when you’re finally done, you take a look around your house that you have made a home with your sister and best friends. You’re finally home. Hawkins is home. And for the first time in a really long time, you can truly say you’ve had… a happy birthday.

🏷️ tag list: @chrrymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxpsi , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron @kellsck @joyfulfxckery @munsons-mayhem28 @dragonfire @emma77645 @drivelikenina @livosssblog @thinkingth0ts @hugdealer @ellielunamckay

[inklessletter]

No, but hear me out; Steve is genuinely good with kids and toddlers. Like, absurdly good. He engages with them because he finds them not only adorable, but really fun to be around. Steve kind of gets how they think, loves to play with them, their funny logic, how seriously they take what’s happening in their busy little minds. He finds them fascinating, and they often surprise him in the best ways. Steve respects them, and kids perceive that and love and respect him back. Also, to Steve, spending time with kids is socially freeing. When he’s around kids he’s not worrying about social cues, or saying something wrong, or can stop paying attention to his manners or his looks.

Steve loves kids, and kids love him back. 

And Holly Wheeler is the living proof of that.

Read it on Ao3

There is a bonus scene of this, just saying

—

You drew stars (around my scars)

Mike was the only one in the family who actively resisted to like Steve. Since he set foot in the Wheelers household, everyone in the family seemed to be head over heels for him. He had heard his father admitting more than once that Steve was a fine good young man; his mom was delighted with him since the very first dinner because he helped with the cleaning up after every time (he even brought flowers every now and then, ugh); and of course, he had to endure Nancy’s annoying pining and giggling for months. Then they started dating and he was at home almost every day and it was insufferable having him around every goddamn day. 

But the worst one was Holly.

Before Steve, Holly used to chase Mike around, wanting to be with him all the time. Of course, Mike shoved her out almost every time, especially when his friends were over. Lucas understood him; he knew what having an annoying little sister was like. Sometimes she was around, when they were drawing their D&D characters, Will would save a seat for her and let her borrow his big box of colors, or Dustin gave her treats under the table.

Mike Wheeler didn’t want to deal with Holly after him all the time, but when Steve showed up, Holly got totally smitten with him. He wouldn’t pressure her to give him a kiss, but instead, he high fived her. Steve called Holly “Super Star”.

“Hey, what’s up, Super Star? How was school today? Did Timmy borrow your doll? Again?”

“Hey Super Star, wanna sit next to me for dinner? I bet I can beat you, I’ll eat my baby carrots faster than you!”

“I heard Super Star was feeling funny in the tummy today. Are you okay? Will you feel better if we make a tea party with your stuffed buddies? Yeah?”

Then, suddenly Super Star didn’t want to do anything with Mike anymore. Now it was all Steve. 

(Sure, Mike didn’t like having her around, but he didn’t want Steve to steal her from him either. That’s two out of two, not that long ago, Nancy actually DMed campaigns for him and his friends, and then she decided she liked him and now it was suddenly a dumb game.)

When Nancy dumped his stupid ass in November of 1985 Mike almost made a happy dance. The nightmare was over.

But the fucker appeared at the door the day before Christmas with a gift for Holly. He didn’t stay for dinner, but he handed it to Karen. 

It was a stupid light board.

Dustin was suddenly attached to him now. Now they were friends. Lucas was also fond of him. Steve was cool now for his friends too, apparently. And don’t get him wrong, what he did to defend them was amazing. He hated to admit that it was a little bit cool (but Steve’s panicked face when he woke up in the back of Billy’s car driven by Max was awesome). 

Yeah, after all that shit they talked a little bit. Mike made himself crystal clear that he still didn’t like him, and Steve just sighed and told him that he knew. Mike was about to go victorious after that, but Stupid Steve had to add “anyhow, if you need anything, you can always reach me.”

He still kept showing up for Holly’s birthdays. He still brought her Christmas presents secretly. Mike knew that Steve showed up considerably early when he was going to pick him up and his friends to give them a ride to the arcade, or to the mall, or wherever just to spend half an hour playing with Holly. 

Holly laughed the loudest whenever they were playing in the living room together. And it’s not that Mike wasn’t glad that his sister was happy, it was just— He couldn’t be so flawless. Nancy called him bullshit, she must have seen something in him. No one was that perfect.

He was still around for the upcoming apocalypses. He was starting to make peace with the fact that Steve wasn’t going anywhere, when he stole yet another friend from Mike.

Now he and Eddie had bonded. 

They were often together and that riled Mike up like no other. Hawkins was full of people, did Steve have to put a goddamn spell on anyone around him?

Even when Mike hosted in his basement the Hellfire campaigns after Eddie graduated, Eddie showed up at his front door with Steve.

“You are not a Hellfire member, Steve,” Mike deadpanned.

As an answer, Steve lifted a box. A brand new toy doctor kit. He smiled.

“I didn’t come to see you anyway. Isn’t Holly’s birthday this weekend? I have an early gift for her.”

“You’re so lame.”

“Get new material, Wheeler,” Steve rolled his eyes.

Eddie observed the interaction, both of them coming in. Mike closed the door.

“Well, I mean, I’m not surprised you want to spend so much time with Holly, I guess you need someone of your intellect so you can stop feeling stupid all the time around adults.”

Steve stopped for a second. He looked at him as if he wanted to actually reply. He let out a sigh, and went upstairs. God, Mike resisted the urge to fully smile. He glanced at Eddie, who was giving him a dead serious, borderline angry look.

Mike rolled his eyes.

“Wheeler, while I do appreciate that you’re hosting the new campaign, I’m gonna say something, and I’m gonna say this just once, so listen carefully. Treat him like this once more, and you’re out of Hellfire.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“That’s bullshit!” 

“No, you being an asshole with him is. I already lectured Dustin for this, and now I’m lecturing you. I will not tolerate any Hellfire member to behave like this towards friends. That, that is bullshit.”

“He’s not my friend.”

“Like hell he’s not. He cares for you, he does shit for you and you not only do not thank him, you pay him by treating him like shit. He’s saved your ass several times. He pays your fucking late dues, man. Like, shit, give back the tapes on time, Christ.”

Mike was fully uncomfortable now. He crossed his arms and bit his tongue to not snap at Eddie any more.

“Look,” Eddie said, calming his tone. “I don’t know if anything happened between you two, and I don’t want to know, but he’s going through a lot lately. A lot, Mike. You don’t—Shit, you don’t have to like him. Just—just don’t treat him like this, okay? I’m serious about cutting you off Hellfire if you keep this shit.”

Eddie headed down the basement, and Mike was left uneasy.

That afternoon was by far his worst performance in D&D. He had been replaying the conversation with Eddie in his head on and off all the time, but Eddie didn’t give him shit for it, because he knew.

Eddie, an understanding DM as he was, called on a break, and Mike bolted upstairs.

He headed to Holly’s bedroom, the door wasn’t closed all the way. He stopped before coming in to put his thoughts in order and apologize properly. He heard the voices behind the door.

“Doctor Super Star, there are no more patients for you to save! You did great! You cured them all!” Steve said in a funny voice.

“But your tummy hurts!”

“My tummy hurts? Oh, no, ugh! It hurts so bad!”

Mike peeped, still hidden, observing the scene. He saw Steve doing a pretty poor performance of a faint, and he fell, belly up over the rug, amongst the plush toys scattered around. Holly, dressed as a doctor, rounded him and kneeled at his side. 

“I’m going to give you an injection to save you!”

“Oh, please, Doctor Super Star, please, it hurts so bad! N-no, Holly, holly don’t lift my—”

Holly did, and Mike froze. 

Both Wheelers looked at the sudden exposed skin of Steve, all covered in nasty, pink scars. Eddie’s words resonated in the back of his mind loud and clear, and he suddenly understood what Steve was going through lately. Those scars were—God, they were gruesome. That must have hurt like shit. He heard what happened, but now he was seeing it.

That could have been his sister.

Or Robin.

That could have been anyone there, but it was Steve.

Mike gulped, feeling a heavy weight in the pit of his stomach. 

“It’s okay, Holly,” Steve spoke softly, but Mike could feel the nervous, vulnerable tone after his words.

Holly passed a finger ever so slightly, over one of the scars. She looked both curious and serious. Steve’s abdomen flinched a bit.

“Does it hurt?” Holly asked, softly.

Steve closed his eyes and put on a flaky smile, facing the ceiling.

“Yeah,” Steve whispered. “Yeah they—they hurt sometimes.”

Steve let her wander her small hand, examining his torso. 

“They’re pretty.”

A silence. A broken voice. “They’re not.”

“Yes, they are. They look like stars.”

Then, Holly, slowly, put against his stomach a bright pink toy syringe and faked an injection.

“Now you’re cured. Now it doesn’t hurt.”

Mike couldn’t see Steve’s whole face, but he saw enough before he turned away from Holly to see. His expression crumpled, and he saw Steve’s bob apple up and down a couple times. If he wasn’t crying, he was about to.

“You cured me, Doctor Super Star. Good job!”

“Wait! I’m not finished!”

Holly jolted to his drawer, where he kept all her drawing stuff. She came back with a few colored sharpies, and got back to the same position she was before. Steve observed her. 

Then Holly put the sharpie nib softly against Steve’s belly, and he observed.

She drew stars over Steve’s scars.

“See? They are pretty. They’re stars.”

Steve smiled at her. She beamed.

“They are stars. They are pretty.”

After a few seconds, Steve cleared his throat and suggested Holly tidy up all around and draw for a little bit in the living room. Only then Mike reacted, and left the hallway, going back down to the basement.

By the look he gave Mike when he came back, Eddie must have noticed something weird in Mike, but didn’t say anything.

When it was time for all of them to leave (seriously, Mike had been a total disaster), Eddie hushed them all to the van. Steve was saying his goodbyes, and then Mike spoke before he left.

“Hey, Steve.”

He turned around. “Yeah?”

There was a silence, in which Mike tried to find the words. Steve waited.

“I never—I will give the tapes back on time from now on. I’m sorry for that.”

Steve was puzzled. 

“Okay?”

Mike was shit apologizing. Mike was shit communicating, at best. He was shit at being vulnerable. Mike was shit at feelings.

“Yeah, and—thank you for—you know. The, um—yeah.”

Mike pursed his lips, crossed his arms. He pinned his eyes to the floor. He could feel his ears and his cheeks grow hotter and pinker.

“Yeah. No problem.”

He could feel Steve’s soft smile in his voice.

“You can go now.”

“Yeah, okay. Bye, Mike,” he said. “Good night Doctor Super Star!” 

Holly waved him from Karen’s arms. She even threw him a kiss. He captured it in the air and put it in his pocket.

Mike rolled his eyes.

Ugh.

[cloveroctobers]

DECEMBER PROMPTS 🧊 — 3. MICHAEL “MIKEY” BERZATTO

A/N: I want to attempt to make this a bit lighter but with the way the bear is set up? Happiness is a process. 🥂 Also this takes place BEFORE 7 fishes? Maybe a year or two prior, so thats probably six or seven years ago from now? The timeline isn’t overly important with this show so whatever your brain feels is cool with me! Also decided to do this in headcanon/note form this time around because things are definitely about to get hectic for me. Merry Christmas Eve or Happy Holidays to you all! 🫶🏽 hope its filled with nothing but greatness + all things that are lovely and not chaos.

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + I’m using: SCENARIO — 4.) Decorating the tree + DIALOGUE — 2.) “You know what they say, don’t eat yellow snow.”

<- read my previous December anthology prompt here.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊

Michael Berzatto always loved cold weather and sure his birthday happened to always fall on a brutal cold day… he always put more effort into everyone else’s.

It’s something he’s always done and maybe it had to do with his childhood where most birthdays his own parents forgot about it, treating it as any other day because that’s simply how they viewed their own and wouldn’t even get him a card at least.

He grew up fast and pushed those terrible feelings as far down as they could go and focused on caring for everyone else.

Lucky for him, he had his younger siblings that always managed to put a smile on his face, showing him that they wouldn’t ever forget

and a shit eating grin would also appear thanks to his best friend Richie who always showed up with packs of beer and encouragement to head out to a strip joint but somehow Tiffany always figured out that plan!

a gallon of warmth poured into his chest when you would call him at midnight or the break of dawn, wanting to be the first to send him well wishes for another year.

You were always something special to Michael.

Which is why on the morning of November 15th, he showed up to your place, just to tell you later that you were going tree hunting while he went down to Chicagoland to get the rest of his hours in.

He heard how bummed out you were about your boyfriend not being in town (yet again) to go get a tree for the place you moved into back in July.

Michael didn’t particularly hate the guy but he also felt like he didnt care enough as much as he should with someone like you.

He was always elsewhere and Michael was just praying that he didn’t ask you to marry him and call it selfish but he didn’t see a glimmer in your eyes when you looked at the guy.

Michael felt like you two were just dating out of convenience—until you both found better, which YOU would but you didn’t seem to see that.

Which of course sparked arguments and the guy walked in on that argument, demanding to know what was going on and you didn’t want to escalate the situation so you sent a warning glance for Michael not to take it there.

He never listened.

A ban from the house was laughable to Michael because who tf did this guy think he was to tell him to stay away from his best friend’s house? He maybe “the man,” of the house but he wasn’t man enough to love you. You have to show you care in a relationship and put in the work and this guy wasn’t it. You were an after thought and that pissed Michael off.

and he didn’t give a shit if the guy was 6’6 and built like a linebacker, it was fair game in mike’s eyes! Michael would say what he felt and he was super protective over you—which you appreciated but not in that moment.

Before hands could ever go flying and out of the respect he has for you, he said his peace and left the home—since thats what you wanted…with the both of you not speaking for a week—which was painful.

And also painful to Richie’s ears because Mikey wouldn’t shut up about it!

You as a topic? Was never on the low.

“Are you finally gonna admit to the audience that you’re sweet on them, Mikey Boy!?” The amusement was clear in Richie’s piercing blues and Michael was tempted to smack it right off.

“Shut your mouth and get back to work, ya bastard!”

Michael knew the guy talked shit about him behind his back but regardless Michael was in your life WAAAY before this guy was even a factor! He wasn’t going anywhere,, unless you told him to but he hoped that never happened.

Your boyfriend didn’t like how you kept Michael around but he knew how to put on a mask too, being a FBI agent and all that, which means he was hardly around anyway so…that gave Michael more time with you in the end, which definitely made your boyfriend more irritated when he bothered to check in from work!

Michael found it funny that your boyfriend thought he was doing something by flying back to Indiana with you to spend (the controversial holiday) thanksgiving with your dad, step-mother, and half-siblings just to disappear again into his work as soon as the both of you returned to chicago.

While he was off on a case, Michael was there taking on the failed promises, which included: tree shopping.

Having a hybrid schedule, working as a publisher and just starting a meeting with a client, you were caught off guard the morning Michael greeted you on your front steps on HIS birthday.

He was all grins and barely in the appropriate wear for the approaching winter but fr! a hoe never gets cold you know? “You asked what i feel like doing for my birthday, right sweetheart? Spending it with you doll face and gettin’ us a tree, how’s that sound?”

You can can barely get any words out due to being on a call but a sweet smile that actually matched your eyes was enough confirmation—although it was on the tip of your tongue to argue, Michael took that to his advantage that you couldn’t in that moment.

Which didn’t mean you wouldn’t hammer him with texts a little later—but Michael sucked at texting so your attempts would probably go unseen anyway.

It was around six, you just got off thirty minutes ago and went to freshen up, ready to text Michael when he’s already at your door, keys in hand, shining teeth of a smile, your favorite sandwich in hand: a wrapped Porchetta, chicken parm, or a caprese sandwich (if you don’t eat meat) ready for you to eat on the go, since the farm closes at eight-thirty and the drives about thirty to forty-five minutes depending on the traffic…

Michael’s got terrible road rage and hates traffic but you’re not the best driver when the sky falls so you have no choice this evening but…he’s at ease with you on the passenger side.

He’s telling you entertaining stories as you eat and when you’re done, he’s asking for your review—although it’s your favorite sandwich so of course it’s going to be highly rated! but he just likes to hear you talk about the things you enjoy

he’s interested in your day since your work days are completely different and he’s not afraid to give his opinions if the author you’re working with sounds like an asshole.

Shopping with you can sometimes take forever but Michael doesn’t seem to mind. If you’re looking for the perfect tree, even if it’s ugly as hell, you’re gonna get the damn tree.

He’s used to artificial trees because the real one his family had after he just turned fifteen, his ma threw a lit cigarette at once, unbeknownst to the rest of the berzatto family, almost burning it to a crisp as she whipped around to yell at a seven year old Sugar about something, so his dad swore off “spending his hard earned money for Donna to ruin,” leaving Michael to stop looking forward to Christmas trees

Yet he was here on his birthday with you, happy to be here and help you find whatever you needed.

“What about that one?” You pointed at what would probably be the eighth one, if Michael thought to keep count.

He can’t help it—

He glances over his shoulders and scowls, “looks like uncle Lee, fucking balding in the middle.”

“Michael!”

“Wha? Am I wrong?! I’m just sayin, sweetheart…if you love that one, I’ll like it.” Michael raised his hands in surrender while you huffed, rolled your eyes and spun on your flats, diving in between a row of fully stocked trees.

Eventually you find a wide white spruce tree that the both you felt strongly about to bring back home

and the man is willing to throw his back out for you, getting it up your steep front steps, not allowing you to help him one bit, which is frustrating for you ofc.

Once positioned in your living room, just the way you want it, Michael wipes the back of his hand against his forehead dramatically.

“What would you like to drink?”

“I’m fine. Just gonna get some air, then when I get back we’ll discuss when you want to decorate it, yeah?”

You shake your head at Michael while he heads back to the front of the house through the screened in entrance before entering November’s air.

When he’s taking longer than expected, you go hunting for him just to flail around on some black ice after stepping down from the last step but manage to somewhat catch yourself on the railing.

Thankful for a bruise rather than a broken tailbone, you curse to yourself as the throbbing pain shoots down your femur.

And surely, Michael fucking berzatto appears from the shadows to assist you, “hey! whatcha doin’ down there?”

“I slipped on some stupid black ice…where were you?”

“You sure it wasn’t the yellow snow?”

“The what?” You exasperate as Michael guides you to your feet.

Michael points at the spot to the right of your front lawn and you scowl as he says, “you know what they say, don’t eat yellow snow!”

He laughs but stops short as you cut your eyes at him, “did you come out here to piss on my lawn when there’s two bathroom’s inside?”

Michael scoffs, “don’t go pointin’ fingers at me because you busted your ass. That ain’t my fault babe and you know I wouldn’t do that! I told you that was Richie’s drunk ass.”

Sighing you rub at your sore thigh, “I still owe him a kick in the ass for that.”

“Yeah you do,” Michael smirks as the both of you move to head back inside, “despite that, it was good house warming.”

You nod as you’re back inside the warmth of your new home and rest against the couch while Michael’s back to analyzing the tree you picked. “Hey, I’ve got you something.”

Michael shakes his head although a twitch of a grin is there,“I told you that you didn’t need to get me anything.”

“Shush,” you held up your hand at the man who raised his brows at you, “it’s nothing crazy but it’s in the fridge.”

He sighs at you but goes to your bright yellow kitchen nonetheless. Michael always gets caught up standing in your kitchen, just imagining all the meals he could get up to in here since it seems so bright and welcoming yet empty.

You were more of a breakfast person which is why he was always down to go to diners because of you, whereas he was more a lunch person because of his old man, hence why Chicagoland was a deli spot but Michael was okay with shifting his ways for you.

When he opens your fridge, he scans through it, easily picking up on what items belongs to your macho boyfriend and scoffs to himself before spotting a medium sized box tucked in the back of the fridge.

“Did you find it, Mikey?” You call out to your friend who latches onto the box, kneeing the fridge closed before making his way back into the living room.

He plops down on the couch next to you, eyeing you while you smile over at him patiently waiting.

“Here goes nothing,” Michael quietly says before pulling the top back to eye the mold of the zuccotto, “…you fucking didn’t.”

“I did,” you nod before explaining, “I thought about making one but I also didn’t want to disappoint you and then I remembered you’ve been wanting to try that bakery that’s here on my side of town, so I made a call and hope you like it.”

Michael swallows the lump in his throat at the gesture. He can’t remember the last time someone’s got him a cake but this wasn’t just some simple task. This was important because this means you listened.

You listened to how he told you that his nonna used to call him, “pumpkin bear,” because he was chunky and the shade of a Orange left in the sunlight fresh out the womb and that she made the best zuccotto he’s ever had and never tried anyone else’s since she’s passed.

Not even his ma could touch his nonna’s but he would never tell the woman that!

“The bakery’s a combined Italian-French place which they don’t really advertise until you’re actually inside but the little elderly lady who made it was the cutest thing and I thought you’d probably trust her.”

“I wanna kiss you on the mouth, you’re so good to me, you have no idea!” Michael pointed at you, voice thick with emotion.

This may seem small to any other but it really meant a lot and you could sense that as Michael gripped your hand to squeeze and press kisses to. “Happy birthday, Mikey.” You whisper.

Michael groans as he pinched the corners of his wet eyes for a moment, “I love you, you know?”

“I love you back,” you smile, “now can we try!?”

“Hell yeah we can but I get first bite this time.”

“I guess…it is your birthday after all.” You wink.

The taste test was so worth it, to the point Michael made it his mission to go meet the elderly woman down at her bakery during one of his breaks from the restaurant.

He shared kind words and got to know Giuseppina or “Josy,” up until the point they actually became friendly with Josy sending her husband Charles over to try what Chicagoland had to offer as well.

He had you to thank for that, reminding him of the good in his life, even what once was.

It isnt until the first week of December when Michael comes around again to decorate your tree.

“What the hell happened?” Michael quizzes you when he spots you with a brace taking up a huge portion of your thigh.

Guess that makes sense why you took so long to get the door.

You sigh, “hello to you too, Mike. Care to come in?”

“Yeah, yeah. Hi.” Michael greets, gripping your hip and pressing a kiss to your cheek before stepping into the too warm house.

You tell him you slipped again and that resulted into a bruised bone, which is less severe than a fracture and something you can heal at home with ice, and meds you wouldn’t be taking—so you’re just taking it easy.

“Why hasn’t inspector gadget put down any salt yet?” Michael commented as he shoved his thin jacket into the small closet tucked in the corner of the living room.

You have your oddly placed fireplace lit and boxes everywhere to dig through.

Sighing you plop back on the couch, “He’s busy but he brought up the decorations from the basement and I can do the salt myself.”

“Oh yeah? Why haven’t you?”

“…it’s cold.”

Michael fans his hands at you, “newsflash babe, we’re in Chicago not Kansas or wherever the hell he’s from and after we’re done tackling this tree, I’m gonna fix it.”

“Mikey—

“Did you hear what I said?”

The look he sent you with his dark eyes made you mold your lips together and cross your arms before you pushed off the couch to head over to a few of the boxes.

Michael does the honors of playing some Motown Christmas music on your tv to fill the tension, but he wouldn’t apologize for looking out for you.

The bare minimum when it comes to your boyfriend doesn’t impress him, not one bit and although you didn’t like and told Michael that you didn’t like him dragging your man, you couldn’t change Michael’s mind about him at all!

He was gonna hurt you and Michael was waiting for the asshole to just rip the band aid off or when you woke up and dumped him yourself.

Michael knew you had it in you and knew you deserved better than to just settle for what looks good on paper.

The smooth deep growl of Marvin Gaye singing, “I want to come home for Christmas,” (I heavily stand on the fact that Marvin Gaye is one of Michael’s favorite singers!) filled your home as the both of you went through the boxes, picking out your decor that brought all sorts of feelings to your frame.

You reminisced about what your life was and if your dad still had any of your old ornaments you made as a child, knowing your mother would have and what your life could be as you took your side of the tree, placing ornaments up as Michael hummed to the music.

The both of you worked in silence which wasn’t the usual although Michael was much louder than you, being quiet wasn’t the norm of your friendship.

And it wasn’t because of what Michael said to you, you weren’t that sensitive—it was you getting in your head about the holidays.

About your dad, step-mom, and siblings deciding not to speed Christmas with you like originally planned because they were going on a cruise and the possibility of your boyfriend traveling to freaking Europe around that time for work made you think about the upcoming loneliness

Yes you had another friend outside of Michael but it was just this odd feeling that you didn’t particularly want to define or gave much thought about until now…

“Hey, stop thinkin’ so hard and just be here with me, huh? Your favorite person on the planet.” Michael calls over the music, after catching you staring up at the length of the tree with one ornament still in your hand.

When your eyes meet his and that famous grin stretched over his features, you roll your eyes once you realized what he said, bringing you back into the spirit and moved around the living room in search of your stool.

Michael holds the stool until your comfortably on it before moving one hand to the small of your back to keep you stable.

When you glance back at him you state, “how do you know?”

“Know what?”

“You’re my favorite person when there’s a billion people in this place?”

“Ah, It’s all over your face! You know how they say heart on your sleeve? Well in your case, it’s on your face.” Michael comments as he holds your stare before you slowly get down to be face to face with him, “and don’t you worry, you’re mine too.” 🥹🥹🥹

You pat his jaw, “damn straight, baby. And don’t you forget it.”

“Never will,” Michael chuckles, “do I get to do the honors of putting up the star?”

You plop down on the couch, digging through what’s left in the box you were working on, “we don’t have a star.”

“…Run that by me again?” Michael turns to you.

You nod, “we wanted to do something…less traditional and it was between either a bow or what he went for…a stag.”

Michael eyes the topper and scowls as he reaches for the cream deer head, “im gonna keep my mouth shut on this one.”

“Thank you.”

“welcome.”

after awhile, Michael finds his way collapsed next to you eyeing the tree as the both of you sip at some cranberry punch you made the other day, eyeing some rosemary you had floating through it.

“It actually turned out pretty, no?” You ask, shoulder to shoulder with the bearded man.

Michael sips from the mason jar and savors the earthy tangy flavor, “best lookin’ tree I’ve ever seen!”

Resting your head against Michael’s shoulder you take in the scenery, feeling a little less alone as Michael’s lips peck your brow, reminding you that it’s best to hold onto what you have, rather than what you don’t. 

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆𐙚 ⋆⁺₊

read my final ~5 days of Xmas~ anthology prompt here.

[turtlepanic]

Is this the battery eating club? I think sooo….

Introducing… Tmnt radioactive wrecks!

—————————————————————————

So anyways: Info! 💙❤️🧡💜

they’re slightly radioactive turtles (Leo and Mikey being more exposed)

So Leo has some slightly glowy ish speckles all over his body (idk what species of turtle he is) and is the calmed of the bunch and is the most attached to their splinter (no existing design yet 😭) liking to spend hours in the dojo. But my little man is unhinged and has NO filter and will say outrageous stuff when left unchecked so he must be supervised! Bro is also biased towards Mikey bc younger sibs ;) and bro loves to meditate and train (Leo x training fr??? Only good ship)

Raph is more into the cool but rude side of the Raphadoodle spectrum than the jerk side (I love family bonding fluff). He HATES splinter and dislikes Leo’s passion for training. He might be a variant of snapping turtle? Idk brooo! He’s surprisingly good at cooking and baking but lacks social skills so he throws pastries at his brothers instead of saying sorry 😎

Mikey is the most ADHD of them all, bracelet making being a little habit. He enjoys reading and odd food combos, (Ps: the way to his heart is sprinkle cookies!) he had some white spots on his skin if you look closely aside from the random spots all over. Mike liked to cling to everyone and climb things for fun!

Last but not least is Donnie, but everyone calls him Dee. He spends most of his time in the lab making stuff. His brothers don’t normally ask him to fix stuff all the time because they know he gets overwhelmed a lot, but occasionally Dee will volunteer to fix the toaster or microwave. Dee doesn’t like to act excited over all the bracelets Mikey gives him, but he has a special place and saves every single one. Dee has quite a distain for sprinter, since he’s kinda a bad dad-

The boys love to chill together and hang out! Age chart coming soon!

But ye they have very good family dynamic no angst for now! So it’s June now and happy birthday to me! Let me know if I should draw more of them!

More stuff (Still learning how to link please help):

[persage]

The Sweetest Thing-S. HARRINGTON

Summary : Getting back to your normal life is difficult, everyone faces it in their own way. Lately you've been baking non-stop and no matter how bad you are at it, Steve Harrington will eat every single cake you make just to see you happy. However, he will be forced - literally - to tell you the truth after the umpteenth food poisoning.

Tags: None, just pure Fluff and Steve Harrington being head over hells for you

I just wanna thank @i-always-come-back-xoxo for the amazing idea!

"No! No it won't happen again. Ever. I object" Dustin shakes his head forcefully to underline his words and reaches out to push away Steve Harrington's hands while he is squeezing a dangerously ugly looking cupcake and bringing it to the mouth of the kid, in an ambush from which Dustin feels - to be completely honest - rather threatened. And no, the little purple butterfly made of sugar that you have put as a decoration doesn't improve the situation at all, which is simple and also frightening: in recent weeks, you have had a craving for making cakes and pastries that no one understands but that everyone indulges in. Like a particularly sadistic Santa Claus who enjoys giving terrible and almost poisonous gifts, you give them to your friends and any excuse is good for doing so: Jonathan's first job as a newspaper photographer, Nancy's college acceptance letter, Will's award for his painting, the compliments Lucas has received from the basketball coach and Max learning a new skate stunt or Mike's B in chemistry. Even Suzie's birthday is an occasion for you to bake a cake and you don't care if she lives far away and you don't  know her at all, it's is still an excuse to give Dustin something sweet to eat since he won't be able to be with her.

Today's excuse is the Eleven's  C in the  grammar test, not an achievement that deserves a disproportionate amount of cupcakes, as she herself admits, so when you show up at the cabin in the woods with a frighteningly large basket of sweets, the expressions of your friends is not enthusiastic at all and even if you prefer to ignore it you really notice it and silently walk away to smoke.

"Now you eat this damn cupcake" Steve scolds him, trying to force the food into Dustin's mouth, who disgusted rejects it again. He cares about this stupid cupcake like his own life depends on it, maybe Steve will never admit it outloud and he thinks he's also pretty good at hiding it, but he hates to see you sad and cares very, very much about you. To be fair Robin says he doesn't hide it at all, that he's completely incapable of doing it, physically. Hiding his crush on you would be like asking him to go against gravity.

"I don't have a crush!" That's all he can answer.

"I don't want to die! This is torture Steve" Dustin almost screams and Steve slaps him on the back of the head to make him stop. He doesn't want you to hear. "He's not entirely wrong." Robin backs him up, smelling another cupcake and quickly pulling it away from her nose. "I think it's charred" she comments, watching it crumble in her hands. "Yes this is disgusting and y/n will never have to know it, so you" Steve points at Robin. "and you" He then points to Dustin. "And you all will eat what she has made for us with so much love" There is something authoritative in Steve's tone and if it wasn't for Nancy, who certainly isn't scared by her ex boyfriend freaking out about a dessert, maybe to be honest Jonathan would be folded from Harrington's words .

"You know I love y/n but we've been eating everything she makes for weeks. Someone should really tell her baking it's not for her"  The Wheeler girl says crossing her arms over her chest and glancing towards the window where she can see you fidgeting with your cigarette between lips.

"Do you want to break her heart Nance? No because this would certainly be the perfect way to do it" Steve comments as Mike rolls his eyes. "Yes, but in this way y/n destroys my stomach" It is his ironic intervention  but he is also more annoyed than the others. Insensitive, insensitive Wheeler, Steve thinks, shaking his head. Is it possible that no one understands you except him? Steve looks for a while at the cupcake he holds in his hands like a bullet that could kill him, then he turns towards you, beyond the glass of the window the sunlight reflects on your hair and you are so beautiful, so damn beautiful and sweet and special that the idea that others don't know how to appreciate you drives him crazy. He doesn't want to admit it but your new cooking fixation almost scares him, he's afraid there's something worrying you that you can't talk to them about.

The truth is that your friends are facing big changes, some of them are really becoming adults and some others are growing up before your eyes and you have the feeling of standing still, of doing nothing for them, of not being good enough to show them that you love them and that they are your family: that's why you bake, because you feel it's the only way you can give them something of your own, a piece of you, of your time and effort. Yet their expressions make you fear that you have exaggerated, that you are always too much, that you are wrong. You've always had this problem, you don't know half terms and half measures, if you love you love deeply, hard to the point of perhaps making people hate you. That's why you never had the courage to let yourself go with feelings, that's why after years you still haven't told Steve that you love him or Nance that she's your best friend or Max that she's the sister you never had. You try not to think about it and with the last draw of your cigarette you find the courage to go back inside.

"Don't do it Steve" Robin whispers, seriously worried. " It could be carcinogenic"

"Dude" Dustin says placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "I have loved you"

Steve looks at the cupcake uncertainly, his attention is captured by the door that opens revealing your figure. He smiles at you, hoping that in these weeks of terrible ordeals, you've finally learned something and with an almost trembling hands he brings the dessert to his mouth. It only takes one bite to realize you haven't learned anything and to realize that Steve Harrington has only two options: spit it out now and let you down forever (erasing any chance of success in his 5-step plan to get married and have kids with you in the future within the next four years) or end up in hospital with a second food poisoning within a month. Needless to say, he chooses the latter, without a doubt and without thinking too much about it. Honestly he would do it again a thousand times anyway.

"Mhhhh it's the best thing I've ever eaten" He says, pretending so badly that your gaze goes from the still full basket to Steve's now white face - which has lost color all of a sudden - and then to the doubtful expressions of the others . Max is the first to approach the basket, silently grabbing a cupcake and eating it with a smile on her face closely followed by Lucas and Will, who approaches you to give you a kiss on the cheek and thank you. "Next time I want Eggos though" El comments, giggling as she bites her muffin. You smile and nod. "For you Eggos El, got it"

"You don't eat it?" Jonathan asks you, taking a second bite with difficulty. “Oh no, I'm not a big fan of desserts… They're all for you” you reply, giving him the biggest smile in the world. A smile so wide and happy that Steve has never seen a more beautiful one, for this reason he nudges Jonathan without restraint when he ironically replies. "Oh you're lucky, good choice"

"You should try them you don't know what you're missing" Robin hastens to comment, glancing at her best friend. "Next time, I promise" And now all eyes are on Steve, because it's clear that there doesn't have to be a next time and it's clear that he'll have to tell you. After all, the brilliant idea of ​​lying to you about your baking skills was his, from the beginning.

Love makes people do stupid things, like let themselves be poisoned like this.

Two days later they all have stomach problems, someone more, others less, and Steve receives a call from Nancy, lying in bed with a vomit pan next to her. The conversation sounds more like a threat than a chat between friends . "Tell her" she simply orders without admitting replies, then she hangs up. The only survivor of this sweet massacre is Eddie, who was unable to eat anything due to his allergies. "I'll find a recipe for you too" You swear to him. "Oh you don't have to bother y/n, really." He pauses the "I'm serious, don't do it" He chuckles.

His presence during these days prevents you from missing others too much and Steve has to admit - as well as being a little jealous - that he hates Munson because it also prevents you from noticing the amazing coincidence that all the people who has eaten your cupcakes are now sick. And if you don't notice it by yourself it means that Steve will have to tell you and he really,  really doesn't want to. He's not ready.

But it happens, when he decides to visit you on a Monday morning and catches you in the act. You open the front door for him with a quantity of flour on your face, clothes and face that looks like you blew up a whole package, and he can't to hold back a  laugh while he wipes your nose. "Has a hurricane passed?" He asks.

"I'm still having trouble organizing myself when I bake, but I'll improve on this too" You reply, walking towards the kitchen as he follows you.

"What are you baking?" He question uncertainly, analyzing the bowls on the table. "I'm trying to make a cake for Eddie, you know with his allergies he never got to taste anything" You reply. Eddie, Steve tries to ignore his stupid jealousy. "That's nice of you" He crosses his arms over his chest while he watches you go back to kneading with far too much violence, so much so that it seems you're tormenting the flour. "You should be more delicate in your movements" He advises you. You roll your eyes. "Isn't it enough for you to be an altet , prom king and the hero of the city, now also a baker! Then what, a chef? A rockstar?" You try to hide irritation in your voice, the truth is that for once you want to be good at something and you want Steve to notice. He sighs and goes to wash his hands before walking up to you, he gets behind you and grabs your  own hands, showing you the right movement.

"You know when I turned twelve my mother stopped organizing my birthdays, she was never there and neither was my father. Sometimes they even forgot to call me, let alone buy a cake. So I decided to do it by myself, no, not buying the cake but making it myself. Cooking helps me, it's not only the fact that I had to learn to survive on my own relatively early, but it helps me de-stress." You turn to him, blinking without words. You've never thought his situation was so terrible, Steve has always masked the absence of his parents and his own traumas behind a smile and even now, although there is a sort of melancholy in his eyes, he continues to smile. Suddenly your problems, your anxieties seem small and useless and you feel ashamed of them.

"I'm sorry" You whisper, voice coming out broken.

"And for what?"

"I've never noticed" He comes closer, caresses your hand so small under his. "Hey. That's okay, I'm just saying that I can help you. I have a thousand talents by the way" He plays down and you smile.

"I feel I'm getting pretty good."

This time Steve can't mask the change of expression and this time you can't ignore it.

"What's up?" You ask uncertain.

"I've come to tell you something" He begins, continuing to squeeze your hands gently. "We appreciate what you do, really.."

"But?" You interrupt him, trying to stop the intrusive thoughts: but you're exaggerating, but we think you're crazy, but we're not your friends, but you should give us our space.

"But y/n, I don't know how to tell you... you're a bad baker. Like terrible to be honest. " You stay silent as a weight lift from your heart. "Oh God I really don't want to offend you, we've tried to wait to tell you but yesterday Nance called me, she threw up again, she was feeling terrible and so were the others and they couldn't take it anymore" You burst out laughing. "Are you telling me that in recent weeks you have been ill and still have continued to eat my desserts?" He nods, relieved to see you calm and happy. He doesn't know why he expected to see you cry, I mean it's  y/n we're talking about, the same girl who bravely fought so many monsters, he knows you're strong, he really does but maybe this is what love is: wanting to avoid any disappointment, even the smallest. And Robin is right, there's no reason to keep denying it, Steve Harrington loves you with every part of his being.

"I forced them to eat lately, they were starting to rebel against the idea, that's why they've sent me to tell you"

You shake your head. "You are crazy, you shouldn't have eaten this crap." You say, pulling free from Steve's grip only to point at the misshapen dough. "But you all are also adorable. You are" You continue.

"We love you and we know you do it for us. And also we had hope you would have improved at some point to be honest" He explains, without moving away from you, so close that you're almost crushed between his body and the table. He smells like home and safety and all the good things in life.

"I think this cooking thing is more a way to erase the fear you know, not only to show that I care about you all. It helps me, keeps the nightmares away. Sometimes when I can't sleep I cook and I feel better" You explain, with a little shame bowing your head. With his hands still covered in flour, Steve grips your chin between two fingers, gently he raises your head so that you can look at him and his dark eyes are filled with an emotion that you don't remember ever having seen or felt, so intense that a shiver runs down your spine. He would like to take all of your nightmares, your bad memories, your pain and make them his and if he could go back in time he would do everything to keep you out of this cursed story of the upside down even if this means erasing years of your relationship and returning to the starting point: when Steve Harrington was a douchebag you deeply hated. He would, to make your life better, but he can't and all he is able to do is give you comfort and everything he owns.

"It's honestly way better than our ways of copying, I mean Nancy literally has an arsenal in her room, Jonathan needs to smoke at least a joint to sleep, Robin calls me every damn night and makes me talk to her until she falls asleep, sometimes she runs away from home to come to me cause she knows damn well she will find me awake. And you know what's my brilliant method is? To guard the house, walking around like a zombie  with the bat in my hands. I keep it under my bed and sometimes I hit the air for no reason so trust me you are handling this  way better than us." Without thinking about it you throw yourself into his arms, clinging to his torso and hiding your face in the hollow of his neck, moved by an inexplicable overwhelming affection.

"You know you might come over here sometimes, if you can't sleep." You confess, realizing too late how out of place and misunderstandable your words are. But he hugs you back and places a kiss on your head and you are glad Steve can't to see your face turning red.

"Does anyone need cooking lessons here then?" He asks laughing, while he lets his hands dirty with flour run through your hair, caressing it and at this point you don't even care anymore who's dirtying who, there's just you and him and the burning smell of something you left in the oven, the minty scent of Steve and his words.

"Someone told me there's a great teacher around"

He puffs out his chest in satisfaction and pulls away from you just far enough to look you in the eye.

Sooner or later he will tell you that he loves you, it will happen because he feels his heart overflow, it will happen because he feels that it is his destiny. You are. And you will bake a cake together for your birthday then maybe, if he is lucky enough, for your children's ones. One day, not today. Today he is just your friend Steve who teaches you how to cook, who erases your fears, who creates new happy memories with you and promises to always be there. There is nothing more precious in the world.

[klausinamarink]

Happy birthday in advance!!

If it's still unclaimed, could you write something for the "swimming" prompt? And if swimming is already spoken for, an alternate choice would be "Because you're a jinx!" While Steve, Eddie, and/or Robin are my favorites, any characters that you are inspired to write about would be great.

Thank you! I hope the entire month of April for you is filled with creativity and fun!! 💜🎉🥳

and a happy birthday to you too! 🎉

—

When Max thought of what she missed the most in California, the beach was always at the bottom of the list. 

Sure, it had been fun when she was younger, but that was when it was just Max and her mom. Before Max started skateboarding and found it more enjoyable than burning her bare feet on the sand. 

Before her mom remarried and Billy was supposed to be her brother. 

Max always hated Billy. But in the first week after their parents’ marriage, Max had tried to connect with Billy. See if there was something else under his spitfire attitude and resentment. 

It was a Saturday morning and Billy was lifting his weights when Max had asked him if they could go to the beach.

She saw how the muscles of his bare back had tensed up. The sudden hitch in his breath. His eyes wide and distant in the mirror. 

Then Billy had spun around, one of the weights breaking through the drywall just inches from Max’s head. She had cried out but forced herself to be silent when Billy had yanked her towards him by the collar. He had leaned to her face, spitting at her as he growled, “Don’t ever ask me that again, you little bitch.”

When Billy had let her go, Max ran to her room and muffled her sobbing into her pillows. 

Since then, she never looked back once at the beach. Not even years later when they moved out to Hawkins. 

But here she was: facing the waves while the heat radiating from the sand made her sweat. It made her faded surgery scars itch and rustled the ever so-deep flares from her metal-fixed bones. 

“You doing okay?”

Max tore her gaze away from the waves. Steve was crouching under her umbrella, dripping wet from the ocean. His hair was ridiculously flat. Max bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t laugh yet at the future image of Steve bemoaning the loss of his infamous poofy hair. 

“It’s hot,” Max admitted. She used to miss the permanent heat. She never liked the Indiana winters even with the fluffiest coats and sweaters. But now she was starting to pray for a December snowfall. 

“Did you need the towels soaked again?” Steve asked.

“Please. I’m dying over here,” Max pleaded. Back in March, she would never make another dead joke. Back in March and April and May, she had to chew the guilt with the shitty hospital foods whenever she caught Steve’s fallen expression. As if Max was a lost ghost and he was the only one who couldn’t get her to the other side.

But March was four years ago. Today was a lazy Saturday in May and Max can make as many dying jokes as she could and it always caught everyone off guard that had them spluttering for breath while Steve and Lucas laughed their asses off. 

Suck that, Vecna.

Steve gently pried off the towels that hung on her arms and around her neck. As he dosed them with one of their many cold water bottles, Max stared back out into the ocean.

Mike, Lucas, Robin, and Eddie were in the middle of another ruthless round of water volleyball. Dustin and Erica were picking through the tiny shells on the shore. El and Nancy were sunbathing while Jonathan and Argyle chatted. Mike and Will had walked off somewhere, probably for something gross. 

It was nice. But the longer she had stared at the waves, the more they called out to her. 

A long time ago, the crashing waves reminded her of the broken drywall and Billy’s spittle on her face. Sometimes she had a nightmare of walking in the water, only for a riptide to pull her out into the vastness where she eventually had no choice but to sink underneath the surface where the infinite darkness greeted her. 

Max had assumed that it was literal. But it had turned out that the riptide and darkness was just Billy. And then it became the Upside Down and Starcourt. And then it was Vecna.

She was so scared then. 

“I think I want to swim,” Max said.

Steve stopped as he was about to place a freshly-soaked towel on her arm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Steve made an affirmative noise and stood up. “You need any help?”

“Maybe you piggyback me to the water?” Max gave him the best puppy eyes she could muster. “I don’t wanna burn my feet.”

Steve sighed but she caught him smiling, “And when you want to get out?”

“Steve, it’s a crime to leave a girl in the ocean!”

He laughed as he crouched down in front of her, his arms outstretched to carry Max. She managed to slide out of the beach chair and land firmly on Steve’s back, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. The wetness of his back slightly soaked through the front of her baggy shirt and swimsuit.

“God, I swear you used to be lighter,” Steve huffed, already running towards the water.

Max laughed as she bounced, “No, you’re just getting old!”

The waves grew louder as they approached. Max spotted Lucas turning around just in time for Steve to splash into the water, dashing through the first wave. She swore she saw Lucas breaking into a joyous grin and waving to her with a whoop. It made her heart swoon.

Steve stopped suddenly. A particularly large wave was about to break in front of him. 

“Ready?” 

If he had asked Max that years ago, she would’ve said no. Or maybe she would agree just for the sake of being pulled far from the shore’s reach and accept what waited for her in the depths.

Max said with a grin on her face, “Born ready.”

Steve torpedoed into the wave just as it broke and crashed onto them. Max was immediately plunged into the forgotten warmth of salt water. It went up her nose and she closed her eyes too late so it stung her eyes. She clung tighter around Steve as the water roared in her ears.

When she broke through the surface first, Max’s first reaction was to laugh.

It was kind of dumb to be scared of the ocean after all this time. But it definitely helped when her family was here too.

[14muffinz]

Birthday.

(Adopted Dee au by @tblsomedoodles)

I have no idea how to write children.

~~~

It was his Birthday, today.

Purple hadn't told anyone that it was his birthday, but that didn't change the fact that there that date was, printed onto the calendar like the other 364 days in this year.

He didn't exactly feel like talking about it.

He didn't exactly feel like talking about a lot of things, these days.

Purple clutched the almost real copy of his twin brother a little tighter to his plastron, feeling it's soft fabric and trying to imagine Blue's rough scales under his fingers instead.

Weren't birthdays supposed to be happy? Why did it feel like just another day?

Well, to be fair, birthdays weren't exactly anything special at home. Their father would leave them for most of the morning so that he could scavenge some brownies for the afternoon, and his eyes would always grow teary when he smiled, as if birthdays were sad for him.

Purple didn't want birthdays to be sad.

And so he hugged his stuffie a little tighter and kicked off his blanket, leaving the bedroom with a long glance at the half-finished plushie of his little brother.

"Hey, Dee!" Mike greeted the moment he spotted Purple.

They always called him Dee. That was weird, there wasn't an ē sound in his name, nor was there the letter d. It was a completely nonsensical nickname, even if it made him feel... something every time he heard it.

He forced himself onto a chair next to Mike, kicking his feet awkwardly.

Maybe... maybe he could bake something? Like cookies?

Honestly, Purple wasn't really one for cookies, the hard ones were itchy and the soft ones were like chewing on mud, but the mindlessness that came with reading the directions of a simple recepie was something he always enjoyed. He also enjoyed Mike's company, he supposed.

"C... can we do something?" He finally asked hesitantly, hating how unsure he sounded.

"Sure, lil' dude!" Mike responded cheerfully, giving his usual giddy grin as he joined Purple in the unconscious leg kicking, allbeit for a different reason. "What'chya thinkin'?"

"Cookies," Purple said definitively. "I wanna see if I have it memorised yet," he lied easy enough.

"Why the hell not? You know, I never make enough treats for everyone. C'mon, Dee, let's do it."

~~~

"Happy Birthday to you."

Like every year, Pops had been gone for the entire day. He'd returned with one singular giant cupcake that he'd already cut into thirds.

They still did their best with the candle, of course.

(Purple didn't have a candle of his own. Pops had only given them one.)

"Happy Birthday to you."

Blue reaches to tug on his twin's wrist, but his hand only meets empty air.

Oh. Right.

"Happy Birthday dear Pur-- Blue!"

He... he... he--

"Happy Birthday to you!"

There was only one thought that rang true in Blue's head as he frantically distinguished the candle.

I wish for my twin brother to come back.

The light goes out.

And in that moment, Blue makes a calculated decision.

One third of the cupcake can be Red's. Another third can be Orange's.

The last one can be for when his wish comes true, for when Purple stumbles back home and demands his birthday treat like nothing was ever wrong.

But if Blue's there, it'll break the spell. It was his wish, so he'll be the only one to know that anything was ever wrong. He can't let his appearance ruin his brothers' happiness.

So he runs. Runs until he knows his brothers and Pops can't find him, until he's out in a dark and dreary, echo-y part of the sewers that he can barely recognise through the haze of his mind and his tears.

He lets out a chirp, just for the sake of it, hoping beyond hoping that this would be the moment his wish came true, that Purple finally came back.

It's his own chirp that echoes in the halls. Not anyone else's.

~~~

Dee's making that chirp at his plush again.

Over and over and over, repeatedly, aggressively, angrily, and no matter how hard Raphie tries to pry him away from the damn thing, Dee will not be swayed.

It's got to mean... something.

The kid's an alternate version of Donatello, he's smart, he doesn't do things without reason and especially not when there's nothing to gain from it. No knowledge, wisdom, or feeling, any of it. There's no matter to the repetitive chirping.

But he keeps doing it, anyways.

He's holding out the red-eared slider plush in front of him, staring directly into its eyes as he makes the noise. Raphie had tried redirecting this to the other two stuffed animals, but Dee's attention remained stubbornly fixed.

Chirp.

Dee's eyes water, and he frowns even harder at the stuffy, like he's mad at it for something.

And then he hugs it close for a few seconds, then goes back to chirping at it like nothing had happened.

Huh.

[dollywheeler]

September 3rd, 1996

Dear diary,

I survived my first day as a Junior. Not that I am surprised because I'd planned everything perfectly. Almost everything.

I woke a few minutes before my alarm as I always do - I don't even know why I set it anymore, other than the fact I know the universe will screw me over the one time I won't. I went down to have breakfast with dad before he had to leave and went up to get ready after he'd gone at 7:15.

Whitney was late as usual when I went to pick her up, but I'd accounted for that so we were still out of her street by 7:50. We pulled into our parking spot at exactly 8:00. I don't know why that brings me so much joy.

Anyway, we went into homeroom together as Whit, Dylan and I all have Mrs. Haywood again. I hate that we only get our schedules during the first day - I never know what to prepare for. I know it's mostly introduction anyway and we won't need more than a notebook but it still irks me.

Today was the perfect example as to why. As usual, I'm one of the last to be handed paperwork - stupid double u - and everyone was already skimming over their classes and their teachers. At first, I assumed the murmuring was just the recognition of my last name on some people's rosters, but Whitney turned to talk to Dylan instead of me so there must have been something else going on.

Once I got the roster, I understood why.

My third period today was art.

With mister Byers.

Of course, he'd be here too. I mean, why else would they both come back? But did they both have to get jobs in Hawkins?

At least it distracted people from English with Mr. Wheeler, which I have seventh period - joy! Luckily, Zombie Boy returning is more noteworthy than Holly's weirdo older brother - small blessings I guess.

I don't get the hype though - he's just Will. Just one of Mike's lame friends.

And now he's going to teach my art class which used to be my one moment of peace during the week.

Ugh.

Dylan asked about my brother when we were walking into our next class. She apparently has him fourth period which sucks because it means I can't keep an eye on her to make sure she doesn't befriend Mike behind my back. She has a tendency to lull teachers into personal conversations, which everyone loves because it means a distraction from the coursework but I know only means we have more work at home later. It's not really her fault she's just so damn likeable, anyway. Her chattiness is exactly why she's one of my best friends.

It became apparent that Dylan wasn't the only one who'd recognized Mike's name, either. After my second period French class I caught Daniel's eye in the hallway. I swear his smile brightened upon seeing me and for a second today was perfect - until he asked about Mike. Apparently we both have him seventh period. I want to be happy we're finally sharing a class but what kind of sick joke is it that Mike will be there?

He couldn't be present for any of my birthdays but he's going to be watching every second of me hanging out with the guy I like? The universe is clearly out to get me.

I managed to smile and shrug through an explanation though, and I don't think it came off too weird. He continued smiling at me so that's good. We compared schedules and other than English we don't share any classes at all, which put even more of a damper on today.

We reached Mister Byers' classroom, but luckily he wasn't greeting students outside the door so I could send Daniel on his way before Will saw us. I took a deep breath and forced myself to walk in and find a seat without looking in the direction of his desk. I don't know why my heart was pounding - it's not like I thought he was going to single me out or anything. It was just unsettling I guess, to be near this person you used to know, who probably knows more about you than you do about them.

Or think they know you - I'm not six years old anymore.

When he finally started the class I was able to look up at him now I knew his attention wasn't on me. He honestly hadn't changed at all. He still had a bowl cut, which possibly endeared him to me a little bit. It was more mature now, of course, shorter, and overall didn't look too out of place. Maybe just because he's Will. He's always been Will. I don't know how I would have felt if he'd didn't have the bowl cut anymore. Mike probably would have thrown a fit. He always hated change - until he didn't, I guess.

There was something sad about his posture as he started his class though; Like his excitement had dimmed. He didn't sound like he used to when talking about his favorite colors or arguing crayon against pencil. I felt bad once I caught him glance at me before quickly redirecting his gaze and realized why.

None of this is his fault, after all, and I always used to like him most of Mike's idiot friends. He was always nice to me, and now I was being childish.

So after his class was over I hung back a little and went to say hi. He looked surprised but pleased to see me standing at his desk and it immediately made me feel a lot better. I apologized for not saying anything earlier but he said it was fine and he understood this must be weird. He said he was glad I still liked art and we talked about that for a moment before he sent me on my way to my next class.

Nevertheless, it was actually nice to talk to him, even if it was only briefly, and he didn't bring up Mike, which I'm sure was intentional.

Of course, seeing Mike was inevitable.

I tried the same tactic as I had with Will's class - just keep my head down - but of course Mike can't take a hint. He actually tried to catch my attention and greet me as I was walking in and I couldn't really ignore him in front of everyone - in front of Daniel - so I just forced a smile and nodded before sitting down as far away from him as possible. At least he wasn't wearing a nerdy t-shirt as I'd feared but a button-up and slacks - proper English teacher attire. Mom would have approved.

I tried to take notes even though I hate sitting in the back of the class, and as my attention was slipping anyway I had to try harder not to look at Daniel. Mike is not allowed to catch me staring at him.

Not that it's any of his business.

When the bell finally rang I already had my bag packed and was ready to bolt, but of course so was everyone else. Seriously, back of the class is not the most efficient seating arrangement.

"Hey, Holls, wait up!" Mike called me back, and I had to do my best not to visibly cringe. At least he didn't call me 'Holly Dolly' again. The room was still emptying and some were curiously glancing over at us so I just forced a smile and moved closer so they couldn't listen in.

He asked if I'd received his letter and if I wanted to have dinner tonight. I told him I had cheer practice and went home.

He probably isn't stupid enough to believe me but maybe he'll get the hint.

Anyway, mom was waiting on me when I got home. She asked about Mike. I didn't have anything to tell her, which made me feel strangely guilty. It's not my job to play telephone, but mom just looked so disappointed... I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault even though it clearly isn't.

I hope she won't ask again tomorrow. Or the day after that.

Love, Holly

[ddejavvu]

bat!eddie thoughts: taking him places, whether that is the video store, hellfire club, school, the grocery store

i feel like if someone upset you and/or pissed you off, they'd randomly have a tiny bat in their face screaming at them

imagine being at school and someone bumps into you and says something rude, and then they are suddenly being chased down the hall by a bat

and finally:

making him a bat throne for hellfire.

i rest my case.

taking him to the grocery store and into the produce section and he gets all squealy and squeaky when he sees his favorite fruits and you gotta quiet him down or pretend like it's your shoe against the floor that's squeaking instead of the bat in your pocket

steve hates when you bring eddie to the video store bc eddie tortures him. he's trying to organize tapes and then a bat knocks them all over. he's trying to eat his lunch and a bat takes a bite out of his sandwich. he's trying to talk to a customer and every time he opens his mouth a bat screeches. any time he sees you walk in his eyes go wide and he looks at your pocket and it squeaks and he goes 'ah fuck.'

oh yeah no everyone's really quick to do all the shit they did to eddie to you now that he's 'gone', so if anyone ever tries tormenting you they've got a bat in the face real quick. eddie's more than happy to claw through varsity jackets and yank on prissy ponytails if it means defending your honor. you wait for him outside and he settles into your pocket again with a satisfied squeak and he gets a pat on the head for a job well done :')

HIS LITTLE THRONE :(( you make it out of toothpicks and duct tape and paint it for him for his birthday and he settles into it and squeaks all happily and then during hellfire he sits proudly on his throne, screeching at anyone who dares suggest that maybe he's too little to play and that he can't really roll the dice anymore and that his wings are freaky please stop touching Mike with them Eddie