#mike and el were just close by circumstance and after growing into their own they became clearly incompatible

[mikoran]

not sure if ive just been shipping byler for too long but mike and el being in a genuine romantic relationship now feels like. out of character. like even ignoring all the theories about him being queer and such just looking at his and els characters and ignoring the romantic context theyve been put with since the start, i dont look at them and think “hm theyd make a good ship” it just doesnt feel like a thing they would do i cant explain it

[thealtoduck]

New Stranger Things OC: 009 aka Noah Lane

*Spoilers for Season 4 vol 1 and vol 2*

Faceclaim: Louis Partridge

Full name:

Real Name: [Redacted]

As a test subject: Nine

Chosen name: Noah ”Nine” Lane

Gender: Cis Male

Birthplace: Port Lions, Alaska, U.S.A

Birthdate: September 14th, 1971

Family: [Redacted]

Backstory:

Nine was born in the small town Port Lions in Alaska, where he didn’t stay for long as he was soon abducted by Dr Brenner and turned into one of his projects and was tatooed with the number ”009”. Unlike most of the other projects he didn’t have any telekinetic powers but instead only had telepathic powers. While growing up he became close friends with Eleven

*Season 4 spoilers incoming*

Nine was the only other subject than Eleven to survive One’s massacre of the workers and subjects at the lab. Then a few years later he and Eleven escaped the lab together when she accidentally opened the first portal to the Upside down.

Personality:

”Oh Nine, where to begin with you”. If there was anyone more confusing than Eleven when they found her, it was Nine. Nine is a very quiet person who prefers to listen then talk. He’s a little oblivious and is in his own little world a lot of the time. He’s not the most emotive person either and only shows it to select people or in very emotional circumstances. He has terrible social skills after being raised in the lab is and his go-to introduction is ”I’m Nine, i’m from Alaska”.

Because of his rather neutral personality, people get suprised when he does show emotion. For example when he first watched cartoons on television like reruns of ”The Jetsons”, ”The Flintstones” and ”Scooby Doo, Where are you?” people were suprised to see how invested he was, sitting with his mouth gaping way to close to the screen.

Same goes when they heard him laugh for the first time while reading his favorite comic series. They were hanging out in Mike’s basement a few days after they found him and Eleven and all of sudden they all heard a soft laugh and looked with confused expressions at him and Dustin asked shocked ”Did you just laugh?” and Nine then showed them the comic where Lois Lane goes back in time to krypton and steals Superman’s dad from his mom.

He can also be quite protective of his new friends and family and is extremely loyal to them and would basically explode people’s brains to save them.

Powers:

Telepathy:

Mind Reading.

Empathic abillities.

Speaking telepathically with people.

Mind manipulation.

Minor mind control.

Give people headaches that can range from small harmless ones and ones they die from.

He can also help El with her telepathy by kinda helping extending her telepathic range without the need of a sensory deprevation tank.

Strengths:

Telepathic abillities.

Good music taste.

A damn good poker face.

Weaknesses:

Using his telepathy in big crowds is harder and gives him headaches.

Overuse of his powers can cause exhaustion.

Like Eleven he also has claustrophobia after being locked in a dark room as punishment for whenever he failed one of Dr Brenner’s experiments.

He also has ptsd from the traumatic experiences the hawkins lab brought upon him.

Limited vocabulary

Random Facts:

His closest friends are Eleven, Nancy, Max, Dustin, Lucas, Will and Mike.

He has a crush on Steve Harrington but it’s mostly based looks and what he learned from Madonna ”The boy with the cold hard cash is always Mr Right”.

Some of his favorite songs are (in no specific order):

”Physical” by Olivia Newton John

”Break The Rules Tonite” by Kim Carnes

”Proud Mary” by Tina Turner

”Lucky Star” by Madonna

”Running Up That Hill” by Kate Bush

”Saving All My Love For You” Whitney Houston

”Material Girl” by Madonna

”I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tiffany

”What’s Love Got To Do With It” by Tina Turner

”Edge Of Seventeen” by Stevie Nicks

Likes:

Staring intimedatingly at people.

His walkman, it’s his most treasured possesion.

Nancy Wheeler, not romantically but he thinks she’s really cool and follows her like a lost puppy

Music, specifically Madonna, Tina Turner, Kim Carnes, Kate Bush, Fleetwood Mac…

Comics, his favorites are the old ”Superman’s Girlfriend Lois Lane” comics he found in Mike’s basement. He finds them funny. It was also where he found his chosen last name Lane.

Cartoons, his favorite is ”The Jetsons” and he also likes ”The Flintstones”, ”Scooby Doo, Where are you?”, ”Super Friends” and ”She-ra: Princess of Power”.

Colorful and stylish clothes.

Dislikes:

When people don’t let him do his own thing.

People being controlling over him and Eleven.

Dr Brenner and the people of the Hawkins Lab.

Quotes and random things he does:

”I’m Nine, i’m from Alaska…”

Also Nine: *Can’t even point out Alaska on a map*

——

*Humming Olivia Newton John’s song Physical while walking casually through Hawkins with a grumpy expression and not knowing where the hell he is*

——

”Dustin, gave me a knife…”

——

”I’m a skater…”

*Has been on a skateboard once and held Max’s hands all the time*

——

”I heard Mike call Eleven ”pretty”… am i pretty?”

——

[baldrambo]

On Jim Hopper....

After reading a myriad of analyses and meta on Hopper’s character in S3 on Tumblr/Reddit/Twitter/everywhere, I've come to realize that my understanding of his character and his arc is very different than most interpretations I've seen.  And it frustrates me because i think ultimately, the criticism of him is unfairly harsh and misses the point of his arc.

I will make a few bold assertions (bold=likely unpopular) and address them under the cut because the more I’ve thought about this the longer it got and I want to appropriately address each point.

Assertion 1: S1 Hopper is NOT the Hopper we want, in fact, this is regressive! Hopper and we should be glad he’s gone

Assertion 2: S1/S2 Hopper is inappropriately romanticized and it created unrealistic expectations for Hopper’s characterization in S3

Assertion 3: The circumstances in S3 are dramatically different than S1-S2 and drive the changes we see in Hopper’s characterization in S3

Assertion 4: Hopper and Joyce’s arguing in S3 was a symptom of a shift in their relationship dynamic, and not OOC

Assertion 5: Hopper's negative character traits were intentionally amplified in S3 as a juxtaposition for his redemption arc coming in S4

Assertion 1:

When we are introduced to Hopper in S1 he is a pill-popping womanizer. He is a jerk. In episode 1, he shows up to work hungover cracking "your mom" jokes and when Flo tells him that Joyce is worried about her missing kid he dismisses her and says "I’m gonna get on that." A frantic Joyce has to beg him to look for her son and during the conversation, he's throwing in interjections about screwing Chrissy as a teen in the back of his dad's Oldsmobile and somewhat snidely inquiring about whether Will is gay. Not a very nice dude.

It's not until later in the episode when we learn that he had a daughter who is now dead, and begin to suspect that perhaps there is more to him than the jerk-off cop from a small town. And then the first real introduction we get to Hopper, the real Hopper, is in 1x2 when an agitated Joyce asks him "wouldn't you know your own daughter's [breathing]?" He nearly caves then, caves under the weight of his grief, the pressure of dealing with a case of a missing kid, feeling empathy for what Joyce is going through. So what does he do? He retreats to his cruiser as soon as possible and pops a pill. Why? Because he cannot handle the grief and emotion. So he medicates it away.

For anyone who has ever been on Xanax (or see i.e. Benzos in general) they are typically prescribed to dull intense emotions, such as a anxiety attack. You can be in the middle of an anxiety attack (shaking, crying, unable to breathe), and a Xanax kicks in and it halts the entire thing.  You feel nothing.  When you're in pain, physical or emotional, it kills that pain almost instantly, too. And that’s what makes it so addictive. And it's not just pain that it kills, but pretty much all emotion with it.

Hopper in S1 is popping Benzos because he is at the lowest point in his life. He lost his daughter and his purpose in life. He is merely existing. He feels like a curse. Part of him even seems to feel responsible for Will's disappearance for no other reason than his own misery. Think about 1x1-1x7 Hopper for a second: can you remember a scene when he smiles? Laughs? Gets angry? Cries? Shows really any emotion at all? I've watched s1 multiple times and I don't remember one. He's so heavily medicated that he isn't feeling ANYTHING.

But then in 1x8, we finally get a glimpse of the real Hopper in glimpses of his backstory. A man laughing and playfully throwing around his daughter. We see a broken man crying in a hallway. We see a tender man reading to his daughter. This is the real Hopper who isn't just existing as Hopper is in S1, but living.

Hopper saving Will, this is the very beginning of his redemption. In that moment, he is able to bring Will back. Save him in a way he couldn't with his own daughter. That wall he’s built, quite artfully, is finally cracking.

So you see. S1 Hopper isn't what we want. S1 Hopper was in a deep dark cave. Sure, he was kind to Joyce. Helpful. He listened. He didn't lose his temper. But it's easy not to lose your temper when you're not feeling anything. It's easy to be calm and rational when you’re emotionally detached. But what kind of life is that?

Assertion 2:

In S2, Hopper is already different. In 2x1 our first introduction to Hopper is positioned similarly to S1. He pulls into the station in his police car. He's still grouchy, he's still joking around about dumb shit (dating Bob Derek) but we see a real smile from him. He goes with Joyce and Will to Will’s appointments at Hawkins Lab (we don't know how often but it's obviously frequent enough that Owens jokingly refers to Hopper as Will’s “Pop”). Hopper has a purpose again. To protect Will and Joyce, keep them safe. These are externalities.  And as someone as riddled with trauma as Hopper is, externalities make it easier to function.  Hyper-vigilance and overprotective/controlling behavior aren’t exactly admirable qualities, but they come in handy when the people close to you are threatened by inter-dimensional shadow monsters.

It’s at the end of 2x1 when we are introduced to the biggest change for Hopper: he has El. Someone to “feed, protect, teach.” And love. Turns out, love is a feeling.  And with one feeling comes many feelings.  She brought him out of that deep dark cave so now Hopper smiles. Laughs. Cries. Loses his temper. And with those feelings come all of his own insecurities, imperfections, fears.  He confides in El at the end of the season about some of these fears: he believes himself to be a black hole.  A black hole that took Sara.  Almost took Will. And could take El too and he is terrified that will happen. He apologizes for some of his bad behavior.  And we see El forgive him because she not only loves him, but recognizes that his anger and fear come from a different place than Brenner’s did.  Hopper isn’t exhibiting controlling behavior to manipulate her.  It’s because he loves her.

But here’s the thing. His apology and his and El’s recognition of his toxic behavior doesn’t make it okay, and it doesn’t magically make it disappear moving forward. 

The 2 year gap between S2 and S3, I think, gave us a lot of time as a fandom to create the Hopper we wanted in our minds.  A Hopper that moved past his trauma at the end of S2.  A Hopper that didn’t lose his temper anymore because he apologized to El. A temper he can shut off now because the Gate is closed. A Hopper who would patiently wait around for years until Joyce was ready for him and had moved on from Bob.  A Hopper who would be fine with sharing El with Mike because love conquers all. A Hopper viewed through rose-colored glasses.

But this isn’t realistic.  Trauma can often be complex and in Hopper’s case, compartmentalized, making it easy to burst forth at any given moment and often inappropriately so.  It can make you act badly, irrationally. It can be 2 steps forward and 3 steps back. And as an audience, I think a lot of us didn’t expect this to be a part of his storyline in S3.  The expectation was that there would be continuous upward growth from his arc in S2 and when that didn’t happen, it was the subverted expectations that led to the disappointment in how his arc was handled in S3.  But this disappointment doesn’t mean his arc didn’t make sense.

Assertion 3:

The Hopper we see at the end of S2 seems content.  He has El. He has Joyce’s friendship. Things are at peace, the gate is closed. All is well. Or so we think. The Hopper we see at the beginning of S3 is miserable, lonely, sad, fat, and angry. It’s kind of jarring. But so are the circumstances at the beginning of S3.  In S3, there is no longer an active threat. Everyone is starting to move on from the events of S1-S2.  Joyce and El don’t need his protection anymore because there is no active threat.  His hyper-vigilance leads him to almost shooting Betsy Payne’s dog, not shooting inter-dimensional demodogs.  His overprotective/ controlling instincts are no longer useful they’re annoying, over the top, and just plain toxic. 

In short, there are no longer externalities for Hopper to focus on, so all he has to focus on is himself.  And he is not good at doing that, because that means focusing on his fears, insecurities, and imperfections. And the circumstances at the beginning of s3 give him plenty to personally angst about The two major ones:

1) El is growing up. This is normal, of course.  Little girls become teenagers who become adults. But El isn’t a normal girl, and Hopper is not a normal Dad.  El has superpowers, and she is not a kid anymore.  She is a teenager with a boyfriend, she doesn’t need him the same way she used to, and Hopper cannot protect her the way he used to. Hopper lost his daughter when she was ~6 years old and he didn’t get to raise El for the first 12 years of her life. They’ve missed out on so much together.

And here’s the tragic thing: eventually, she will become an adult, and she will no longer need him at all, theoretically.  Hopper isn’t her biological father.  So what ties El to him, other than her need for him to protect her? In his mind, nothing.  In his mind, her growing up means turning 18 and leaving him.  Permanently.  He can’t lose another daughter. That would break him.  So what does he do?  “Try to stop the change.  Turn back the clock.  Make things go back to the way things were.” When she was his little girl he was not in danger of losing her. And because he has trauma, because he is unable to handle his emotions, he takes it out on Mike and Mike/El’s relationship. He takes it out on their closeness. This symbol of her becoming an adult.

2) Joyce is moving away.  Understandable, of course.  Her youngest son was snatched by the Demogorgon and she had to venture into another dimension to bring him back from near death, he was possessed in S2, and her boyfriend was brutally murdered in front of her. I would want out of there, too. But doing so means leaving Hopper behind.  Joyce, the one other constant in his life, who he can talk to about anything, who he relies on for parenting advice for El, who he can trust completely, who is always there for him, who he loves (who perhaps he’s always loved). And she’s leaving him behind.

So he thinks maybe, maybe, if he make her feel safe, if he gives her a reason to stay (him)...that she will.  But she stands him up and she doesn’t just stand him up, it turns out it’s because the threat was back and he not only didn’t realize it but wasn’t able to keep them all safe from it, despite that being his sole driving force.  He had one job.  And he failed.

So, you see, Hopper’s character arc in S3 is about him, and not the externalities in S1-S2.  He cannot hide behind the danger anymore.  He can’t hide behind “feeding, protecting, teaching.”  His flaws and imperfections are on full display and it’s more difficult for us, and Hopper, to sweep them under the rug. They’re amplified by the circumstances and his arc.

Assertion 4:

This is sort of an aside? But something I still wanted to address because I see it come up a lot.  Namely, that Hopper and Joyce’s dynamic in S3 didn’t make sense, was out of character, and/or that Hopper’s behavior was abusive.  I think that this particular point is important to review not only for Hopper but for Joyce as well, who is integral to Hopper’s character arc, and who I think the fandom often handles with kid gloves. Full disclosure, I AM a Jopper shipper, and have been since 1x1.  That being said, I was not bothered by their dynamic in S3 because I think it was an important bridge in the structure of the show as as well as their relationship.

We still at this point in time don’t know what Jopper’s backstory is, although I suspect we are going to finally get that in S4 based on some of the spoilers/casting calls we’ve gotten over the course of the last few months.  What we do know is at the beginning of S1 there is a familiarity between them (she calls him Hop), there are rumors around town that they fucked, and they seem to trust each other on a level that is not shared with other adult characters. 

I hear a lot of people say S2 was “peak Jopper.” Their relationship is pretty stable. They are friends, he goes with her to Hawkins Lab, she relies on him for safety and protection, they are gentle with each other.  It’s nice.  But it’s also not very personal.  Joyce is with Bob.  Hopper doesn’t tell Joyce that he’s been hiding El. They obviously care about each other (and it seems like Hopper has some feelings there) but they hold each other at arm’s length.

This isn’t the case anymore in S3.  In S3, there is no more arm’s length.  They’re co-parenting.  He shows up at Melvald’s at the beginning of 3x1 (reminiscent of Bob appearing at the beginning of 2x1) for advice, which it appears he’s been doing for months. They really have no one else but each other to confide in, which they clearly do a lot.  There are feelings there now on both sides (I don’t subscribe to the theory that Joyce doesn’t reciprocate his feelings, but that is a discussion for another thread.)

These new (old?) feelings interrupted the S2 relationship dynamic. They’re not just comfortable friends anymore reminiscing about high school. Hopper wants to be close to her, but doesn’t quite know how and blunders through attempt after attempt and the more she rejects him the more upset he gets and the worse he handles it.  Joyce is still struggling to move on from Bob and (imo) is confused about her feelings for Hopper because he is a little bit like Bob, a little bit like Lonnie (and yet nothing like either of them at the same time) and I don’t think she quite knows what to do with that except to fight her feelings and hold Hopper at arm’s length.  The end result is bickering and Hopper losing his temper, because neither of them are able to really discuss their feelings for various reasons.

Most significantly, when they’re bickering and when Hopper loses his temper, Joyce is not afraid of Hopper. She is never afraid of him. She holds her own, she argues back, she stands her ground. When he refuses to believe her about the magnets, she steamrolls him into following her to the Lab. When he shouts at her, she shouts back. When he digs at her, she digs back. The problem with characterizing Hopper’s behavior in S3 as abusive is it fails to grasp the intent behind the bickering.  They’re attempting to find a new normal, a new relationship dynamic.  The way people refer to them throughout the season is heavily coded in language that describes a “team” a “couple.” Because despite the bickering they do respect each other and care about each other and in 3x8 they start to come to that realization together.

(My other issue with calling Hopper abusive is that it makes Joyce a victim. And Joyce isn’t a victim.  She’s own her independent entity with needs and wants and desires. After 2 seasons of being “mom,” shoving her into another archetype reliant on another male character’s actions sorta sucks, doesn’t it? I really do not think this what the Duffers were going for here.)

Assertion 5:

Finally, I wanted to touch on the 3 biggest Hopper blunders in S3:

1) Constantly losing his temper. I italicized this further up because I wanted to emphasize the fact that this was not something new in S3.  It’s always been there. In S1 the benzo’s were masking it.  In S2, he was screaming at a 12 year old girl about how she cannot do anything right. It’s unacceptable behavior.  It got worse in S3 because it is also a symptom of a hurting man who is losing control of everything around him.  In S1-S2 attempting to control everything worked, in S3 it didn’t work anymore.

2) Breaking up Mike and El. After nearly a year of it just being El and Hopper, he has to share her with Mike.  Combine this with El growing up and Mike and El’s co-dependent behavior, it’s a recipe for disaster. He tries and fails at a heart to heart and starts shouting and carrying on instead. Slipping into cop mode is easier than Dad mode. It was also the wrong way to handle it.

3) Trying to push Joyce into a date before she was ready. I already touched a bit on this above in #3, but his eagerness to make her stay leads him to try to push her into something she is not ready for. The end result is more misery for him when she fails to show up, and him being a jerk about it for the duration of the season (”You know he reminds me a little bit of a Russian Scott Clarke.”)

Here’s the thing though, he makes these blunders because he’s flawed.  He’s always been flawed. And the combination of his prior trauma, the circumstances leading up to S3, the shift in relationship dynamics between him and Joyce, and the shift of the narrative from externalities to hhis internalities, make S3 very different than S1-S2. And it showed us that Hopper really is more of an anti-hero than a “good guy” and has been this entire time.

And if you wanted him to be the good guy because he had soft moments in S1-S2, S3 was just a set-up for a let-down because Hopper isn’t the good guy. He’s a jerk. And jerks don’t get the girl.  Jerks don’t get happy endings. Jerks die.  Unless they survive, and get a chance at redemption.

Being trapped in a frozen Russian gulag can kill you, or it can make you stronger.  It can make you re-evaluate what you took for granted, how you handled situations, how you interact with those you love, what really matters. And for someone like Hopper, who loves deeply despite his issues, this is the opportunity to turn all of that around and truly start over.  And if you are the Duffer brothers, you want to ying and yang that shit so the yang is that much more noticeable and emotional when it happens. This whole journey for Hopper is just as important as the outcome and as someone who loves his character, I want to be with him for that entire journey, not just the “good” parts.

So I guess, in sum, Hopper is a flawed jerk who loves El and Joyce. Who makes mistakes, but usually has good intentions. Who had a lot of bad shit happen to him. Who made a lot of missteps and mistakes, particularly in S3, but deserves empathy and a chance at redemption. Who should come back a changed man and get the girl and the happy ending. And I think S3 needs to be viewed through this vacuum in order to fully appreciate his character and the arc.

And if you read all the way through this, God Bless you.

[clericbyers]

I have been thinking about the exchange between Will and Mike at the end of ST3 and in particular their word choice. In artistic media, whatever is articulated is there with purpose. It’s not coincidence (an old example is that if a gun is mentioned in text to be on a wall to a reader, then the reader expects the gun to be important in some manner, whether it is for metaphoric narrative or is literally used because it was explicitly pointed out in the narrative). In terms of cinematic media, the published take was used instead of other versions for whatever reason the director(s) decided, so everything has intent. (Finn even said in a Hollywood Reporter interview that the Duffers shot “It’s not my fault you don’t like girls,” with different phrasing, adding “yet” in one take that ended up unused. So, there’s definitely attention payed to what exactly is being said between Will and Mike.)

That being said, I wanna focus a lot on Mike’s, “Yeah, but what if you want to join another party?” and Will’s, “Not possible.” Before this exchange, Will donates his D&D manuals. He’s not taking it with him despite spending a good while three months back trying to regroup the Party through it. He states that he’ll use Mike’s set, if “we still wanna play”. Here he puts the ball in Mike’s court while acknowledging that they both might grow up and grow out of the interest but Mike holds the means to pursue D&D again. Mike says, “Yeah, but,” and it’s simple acknowledgement neither here nor there because he had something more important to say, something that unnerves him enough to let his gaze wander. He seems a little unsure and he pauses before continuing on, gathering his thoughts. He doesn’t make eye contact with Will until he says, “What if you want to join another party?”

[x]

Now party had two meanings in ST: party as in D&D in general and the Party (which I’ll capitalize) which is the best friend circle of Mike, Will, Lucas, and Dustin. Max and El join later but those four are the Party when it comes to D&D. Mike’s question is loaded. He asks if Will wants to play D&D with other people, he asks if Will wants to find a new friend group to replace the Party. He paints it as a hypothetical, a possibility for Will to pursue if he wants to, not when he plans to. Mike doesn’t say, “Yeah, but you can still find another party while you’re gone.” That is giving explicit permission for Will to move on, it’s what he already expects in a way but doesn’t want. He doesn’t say, “Yeah, but you might want to find a new party.” That paints the Party (and in turn himself) as old and something of the past, which Mike is battling with himself in terms of what it means to grow up.

Mike is asking about this loaded hypothetical situation. “What if,” hypothetically, “you wanna join another party?” ‘Another party’ implies in addition to the Party, an alternate of sorts. It’s not necessarily a replacement, just an addition. He’s offering the possibility because much like what Mike did when El joined the Party, the addition can very well become a replacement. Consider it ironic I suppose, but he doesn’t want Will to replace him.

Will’s response though...his response kills me dead. Will didn’t say, “Impossible.” He said, “Not possible.” There’s a difference between impossible and not possible. Impossible means it can’t occur, it cannot exist. It’s simply not able to be done no matter what. Every single possible event in the world can occur and this one thing simply cannot be done. It’s very finite and, well, pretty extreme and intense. ‘Not possible’ though? It’s technically the same meaning but context and delivery matters. ‘Not possible’ is so much more freeing in terms of interpretation than impossible.

[x]

For example, “It’s impossible to give you a ride,” vs “It’s not possible to give you a ride.” The former phrase implies defeat. It’s literally never going to happen for whatever reason. Maybe the car is full already or you have too much luggage that can’t fit. The bounds of the real world inhibit you from the car ride. It’s frankly just not gonna happen. The latter phrase though infers that there are other circumstances that means this simply isn’t possible. Giving you a ride isn’t in the list of possibilities at the moment. Maybe the car has an extra seat but there’s a dog you’re allergic to in it. It’s not impossible for you to ride in the car—there’s a free seat—but it’s not a possible option for you if you don’t want to have an allergic reaction.

In the context of Will’s reply, impossible would mean that Will can’t ever find another party. That’s frankly false; he could probably find another party, which Mike hypothetically thinks may happen given his question. Will knows this, he could find more people to play D&D with, it’s not impossible to join another party. But he looks down at the box between them—a box full of old toys to donate and move on from, a symbol itself of growing up—and then shakes his head with a soft smile. It’s technically possible to join another party—he has that choice—but in actuality, it’s not possible for him. It’s not possible for Will to replace the Party. It’s not possible for Will to replace Mike. Those cards aren’t in his hand despite them being in the deck.

Will is saying so much just with those two words, reassuring Mike that even though they have growing up in front of and between them (literally in terms of the donation box that’s only there because he’s moving away), the one thing that won’t change is how he feels, and his relation to Mike. That change is not possible. He will always love Mike.

And then Mike smiles.

[x]

Mike smiling with Will isn’t new, but the thing to note here is how he smiles. It’s not just a simple grin. He’s shy, he’s soft, he’s careful, he’s cautious. Mike being cautious about showing affection to Will? That’s new. He’s always been the first to reach out with Will, always caring and checking in, reaching out physically and emotionally. Throughout ST3, he’s shutting Will out and throwing that in his face and when he does that, Mike’s not cautious (as usual), but in ST3 it’s to the negative extreme of brashness.

Now though, Mike is questioning. He even called Will ‘dude’ earlier, trying to get a handle on his relationship with Will. Will is a boy, he’s a dude, he’s Mike’s male friend, right? He could have said “Woah, Will,” or “Whoa, Byers,” or even just, “Whoa,” but saying dude? Why would he ever have to do that, especially if he was still with El? Why is he reinforcing the fact that Will is “dude”? There’s all sorts of interpretations to be had on that but I wanna focus on Mike’s behavior afterwards. As stated before, Mike’s eyes wander when he gets a little unnerved, he worries if Will might forget about him, he’s nervous. Why would Mike be nervous about this? If he’s confident in his friendship with Will, there shouldn’t be any question about it even with the move. Yet, he questions being replaced, questions where he stands, questions what they are.

In response to Mike’s smile, Will smirks.

[x]

It’s a direct contrast to Mike. Will’s not shy, soft, or cautious. He knows what he said, what he implied (at least for himself if Mike doesn’t). He’s blatantly flirty. He’s figured out where he is and what he wants. He showed Mike the level playing field (“I’ll just use yours when I come back. I mean, if we still wanna play.”) and he’s kinda like, “I’ll see you when you get there.” There being acknowledging his feelings. I think it’s also Will noting maybe that Mike likes him, too, compared to three months prior when Mike basically broke his heart and Will proceeded to breakdown over it. Here, Will sees Mike’s shy smile, he sees his nervousness. Will has successfully put his heart out on the line (again) and this time Mike didn’t stomp on it. Mike is pleased to have it, and he’s careful about it. This is something new, them both noting that there’s something different between them. Now, it’s up to Mike to shoot his shot if he wants to.

(And later, when Mike mentions Will in his conversation with El, he gets excited about playing games again when El and Will come back to visit, excited about taking that shot (given games and D&D is Mike and Will’s metaphoric narrative about their friendship while growing up), and then backtracks. He says he sounds like he’s 7. At 7, Mike’s best friends were Will and Lucas. (There’s no explicit age stated when Lucas befriended the two but I assume it to be maybe like a year after Mike and Will became friends.) Mike basically said he sounds like a kid again, naive about many things yet deeply caring toward his friends and well, not dating anyone. In Mike’s character profile in the concept bible, he plays D&D to escape from the fact that he doesn’t have a girlfriend. D&D came out in 1979, which is when Mike is 8 (or 7 depending on his birthday). He wants to restart that D&D obsession, noting that D&D is a metaphor for Will and Mike’s relationship. He wants to return to this closeness from being kids, where it didn’t really matter what the affection meant. But he also knows that he’s 14 and growing up. This isn’t something he should want yet he says it right in front of El, his supposed girlfriend, the one he claims to love yet can’t tell her himself and then can’t return the statement or the kiss after she confesses too. He says it after the exchange with Will, where D&D turned from the game used to maintain the friendship into the game where they can take go further if Mike is ready for it.)

tl;dr Mike likes Will, too and Will gave him a second chance to try again if he’s done being a clown and wants to own up to his feelings.

[ first two gifs by ilu-3000 and last two by cath-avery, as credited above ]

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

S.T REWRITE - S1:E8; Chapter Eight, The Upside Down - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

Dr. Brenner holds Hopper and Joyce for questioning while the boys wait with Eleven in the gym. Y/n struggles with her newfound discovery, and contemplates her feelings for Will.

A//N: A little on the short side. sorry!

||Reader's POV||

"Guys, guys! This is crazy."

The boys had gone on some tangent, trying to debate what we should do. The three of them stood in a circle debating while I sat next to El, an arm around her trying to warm her up.

"We can't just wait around." Mike finished.

"Mike, in case you forgot, we're still fugitives. The bad men are still looking for us." Lucas said.

At that moment, Dustin jumped in.

"Yeah, and we don't even know where your sister is."

"El can find them."

"No, Mike." I spoke up, grabbing all their attention. "Look at her, she's exhausted. She's already done more than enough for us in that last 24 hours alone. She's only human, she needs rest." I defended.

El didn't say anything, so she laid her head on my shoulder in a tired manner.

Mike frowned a little, indicating he knew that I had a point.

"I still think we should stick to the chief's plan." Dustin concluded.

"Exactly." Lucas eased. "We stay here, keep El out of sight and keep her safe. That's the most important thing, remember?"

A small smile found its way onto my face. I'm glad Lucas is looking out for El. She's truly one of us now.

"Besides, she's okay. She's with Jonathan."

"Yeah, and she's kind of a badass now, so..." I chuckled at my brother's comment.

He wasn't wrong about that.

My head perked up when I saw him turn around start to exit the gym.

"Well, where are you going? You just said stick to the plan!" Mike exclaimed.

"I am. I'm just gonna go get some chocolate pudding. I'm telling you, Lunch Lady Phyllis hoards that shit."

"Are you serious?" Mike yells while Lucas trails off after my brother at the mention of pudding.

"El needs to be recharged!" Dustin finished, before disappearing past the gym doors with Lucas.

+++

"Found it! I knew she was hoarding it."

Dustin and Lucas began grabbing as many cans of chocolate pudding as they could carry, as Dustin continued rambling about it.

"I knew it."

"Yeah."

"Always lying, saying she's out. Bald-faced liar."

I chuckled and shook my head as I watched the boys hoard their own new stash of pudding.

The three of us had joined Lucas and Dustin in the cafeteria. I was leaning my back against the doorway that separated the cafeteria from the kitchen, my arms folded as I waited for the supply of food. I wanted to let Mike and El have a moment alone so I kept my distance.

"Okay!" He shouted back, clearly annoyed.

I chuckled under my breath once more.

My limbs began to grow tired and I found a seat at one of the tables closest to the kitchen and I was clear across the room from Mike and El. I slouched in the chair, my legs stretched out lazily across the ground and I began fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.

I want to think about anything but everything that just happened. Given the circumstances of course, it's pretty much impossible. My heart sank at what Will must be going through right now.

He sounded so... so weak. I wanted desperately to help him, but there was nothing for me to do.

It was then that I couldn't help but overhear Mike and El's conversation. They were talking very softly.

"My point is, they'll take care of you. They'll be like your new parents, and Nancy, she'll be like your new sister."

"Adopted? Like [Y/N]?" She asked hopefully.

I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me and I looked up to see El looking at me and I smiled politely and looked to a slightly disappointed looking Mike.

"Will you be like my brother?" She asked.

He scrunched his face up in disgust and I had fight a bellow of laughter. What came out was a series of snickers that luckily they didn't catch.

"What? No, no."

Tuning back out, my mind wandered to Will again. It was easy then for the chuckling to die down. My face quickly fell and I began fidgeting once more.

I tried to picture what happened in there. The Upside Down, or wherever it was that El was able to speak to Will.

To see him.

I suddenly envied her.

I miss him so much and I wish there was more I could do.

The reality of everything that had happened recently hits me like a ton of bricks every time I think about it. What I was able to do. Like I get the news of it all, every time I think about it.

And I still haven't told anyone yet.

More guilt and anxiety hit me all at once again.

It was then that two words pulled me from my trance once more. I couldn't help but listen as the two spoke, while I kept my head down and focused my eyes on my hands.

"Snow ball?" El asked confused.

"It's this cheesy school dance, where you go in the gym and dance to music and stuff. I've never been, but I know you're not supposed to go with your sister."

"No?"

"I mean... you can, but it'd be really weird. You go to school dances with someone that, you know... someone that you like."

I couldn't help but frown, all of this felt too familiar. But yet nothing like this had ever happened to me. Deep down I knew what was wrong but I was fighting to acknowledge it.

"A friend?" She asked brightly.

I felt a wave of guilt wash over me and I frowned.

"Not a friend," Mike sighed. "Uh... uh... Uh, someone like a..."

Something about all this was making my chest feel heavy. I felt isolated, like something was missing.

Someone.

I couldn't stop my eyes from wandering to the duo and I saw Mike quickly and nervously lean over and gave El a kiss.

Suddenly, it felt as if someone punched me in the gut.

And it wasn't from jealousy. Far from it. I was happy for them, and I thought they were adorable. But Lucas's words from a few days ago popped into my head.

《•••》

"That doesn't prove anything! We're best friends! So what if we're close?"

He laughs. "Yeah, just as close as Nancy and Steve! And you're no better. You just haven't realized it yet."

《•••》

My heart would have fluttered violently by now but it feels too heavy.

A strong wave of guilt washed over me at the thought that I might not ever get a chance to see him again. Much less share innocent moments like these with him.

Having been fidgeting with the hem of shirt once more, I caught sight of a tear land softly on my lap. I hadn't realized I had been crying.

I quickly wiped it away when I heard Mike get up front the table suddenly.

"Stay here," He suddenly ran out of the cafeteria doors and I caught sight of a blushing El staring after the boy.

Suddenly, Dustin and Lucas barged in carrying a hoard of chocolate pudding and dumped it on the table before El. I stood up walked towards the table, eager to have a taste of pudding that sounded so good after all that has happened.

"This will charge your battery right up, I'm telling you." Dustin smiled, handing El a pudding cup.

I gladly grabbed one off the table when suddenly, Mike came running into the hall gasping for breath.

"Guys! Guys!"

"What?" I asked.

"What is it?"

Mike came to halt, completely out of breath.

"They found us."

+++

Tag List: @fuckwaad @aimee-lucass @iblesstherainsdown-in-africa@miscellaneoustoasts

DM me if you want to be added!

[quentinsquill]

Fic: “Precious Things” (The Magicians

Precious Things

Author: Lexalicious70

Fandom: The Magicians

Pairing: Queliot

Rating: 18+ for violence/blood

Word Count: 3,276

Spoilers: Episode-related for “The Strangled Heart.”

Summary: AU remix of “The Strangled Heart:” After an unexpected attack, Quentin must find Eliot’s most precious possession before the Virgo Blade claims Eliot’s life.

Notes: This has been rolling around in my head for some time, but it wasn’t until two nights ago that I finally realized what Eliot’s most precious possession would be. Comments and kudos are magic, and as always, thanks for reading!

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16108973

Precious Things

By Lexalicious70

 “I seem to have gotten turned around. Do you know the way back to the cottage from here?”

 Quentin and Eliot turned. Mike was walking into the clearing, smiling, one hand tucked behind his back. Eliot frowned at the odd posture, but then Quentin was walking toward him, helpful as always, pointing over Mike’s shoulder.

 “Sure, it’s right back that—”

 Mike’s hidden hand snaked around and into the air as Quentin spoke, and Eliot’s eyes widened as he saw the glint of a large dagger in his lover’s hand. Quentin saw the movement as well and tucked his body inward, away from the blade, as Eliot took three striding steps forward, his long legs eating up the distance between them, and gave Mike a rough telekinetic shove that sent him flying backward. Eliot raised his hands to cast, but Mike recovered much quicker than should have been possible and lunged for Quentin again. Eliot leaped forward and tackled Mike to the ground, wrapping his long arms and legs around him and pummeling his shoulders hard, keeping his hands trapped between them. They rolled over and over across the leaf-strewn clearing, and Quentin ran toward them.

 “Eliot!”

 “Run!” Eliot managed to shout at Quentin, and then Mike’s knee jerked up sharply, catching Eliot in the stomach. He gasped, letting Mike go as he lost half his air, and then a sizzling arrow of pain punched itself deep into his abdomen, just below his belly button, followed by a hot rush of his own blood as Mike yanked the dagger’s blade out again. He put a hand to it, feeling it seep through the orchid shirt he was wearing. Mike raised the blade as Eliot fell onto his back but then he was flying backwards, propelled by the battle magic Quentin had fired off. He struck a tree, the blade flying from his hand, and crumpled at the trunk, unmoving. Quentin fell to his hands and knees next to Eliot a moment later, and Eliot looked up at him.

 “I told you to run!” he said, finding it hard to catch his breath.

 “But it’s Mike, why would he . . .” His dark eyes widened as he saw the blood spreading along the fabric of Eliot’s shirt and vest. Eliot followed his gaze.

 “That’s going to stain.” He said softly, and Quentin bit his lower lip.

 “Oh shit . . .” He said as he pulled off his own sweater before unbuttoning Eliot’s vest and pulling his shirttail from his trousers. Under any other circumstance, Eliot would have been excited about Quentin undressing him, but the tugging caused bright flares of pain that extended upward into his abdomen and down into his lower belly. He gasped, and Quentin winced.

 “I’m sorry, El!” He pressed his sweater to the wound, which was a vertical slit in his flesh about two inches long. It spat out blood with every beat of Eliot’s heart and Quentin looked around the clearing.

 “Help! Someone please, help us!” He watched the shirt turn red. “Oh God . . . Eliot? El? Hey!” Quentin patted his cheek with his free hand. “Don’t close your eyes, okay? Just—just stay here with me, don’t—” He rested his hand on Eliot’s cheek as Eliot stared up at him. Penny, Margo, and Alice ran into the clearing a moment later, and they stood over Eliot, their heads looking like untethered balloons to him. Snatches of conversation reached him as he wavered in and out of a haze ringed with a halo of pain.

 “Mike, but—”

 “Get to the infirmary—”

 “—move him? All the blood . . .”

 Eliot’s consciousness tuned out slowly, like a song being played inside a car that was rapidly pulling away from the curb. He was vaguely aware that he was being lifted, and Quentin’s face loomed over him one more time, his lips forming the same words over and over.

 Hold on. Hold on.

 Darkness came for him, and it stayed for a bit.

   “It’s a very strange wound. I’ve never seen anything like it, really.”

 Quentin stood listening to the infirmary assistant talking to Professor Sunderland and Dean Fogg. Two other healing students fussed around down by the wound as Eliot lay half-conscious. He’d passed out on the way there and was only now coming back around, flinching and gasping as they tended the wound. They’d crowded Quentin away from the bed and now he stood nearly in the corner, his hands stuffed up under his arms.

 “We found this in Mike’s hand.” Penny handed the blade over to Sunderland. She held it up to the light, angling the blade upward, and Quentin stepped forward.

 “Wait. I’ve seen that before. I know I have!” He flipped open his Sharo bag and pulled out a copy of The World in the Walls, the first book in the Fillory and Further series, and flipped quickly through the pages before finding an illustration. “Look!” He held up the drawing of the dagger for everyone to see. “It’s called the Virgo blade. Jane was attacked with it and it caused all these roots and vines to grow under her skin, where they would eventually reach her heart, so, uhm—to heal her, they had to offer up her greatest treasure—the doll her mom had given her.”

 “So, we make a doll of Eliot, kind of like a voodoo deal, and offer it up?” Margo asked, glancing over her shoulder as Eliot made a low, weak sound of pain. Quentin shook his head.

 “No, I don’t think that would work, because, uh—look here—” He pointed at a passage on the page, below the drawing of the blade. “It says here that it wasn’t so much the doll looking like her that caused the spell to accept it but because her mother had given it to her in happier times. It was the one thing important enough to carry with her into Fillory.” Quentin glanced over at Eliot. “Which means we need to find Eliot’s most precious possession before the vines strangle the life out of him. Margo . . .” He snapped the book shut. “You must know what it is! You’re Eliot’s best friend, what would he say was his most important possession?”

 Margo put her hands on her hips.

 “This isn’t The Newlywed Game, Quentin!”

 “But you have to know!”

 “Eliot is my best friend, yes. But you know what he’s not? Forthcoming about his emotions, his family, or his past! I know you’re imagining us having all these heartfelt conversations at three in the morning, but honestly? The person who Eliot was before Brakebills is buried deep.”

 “Shit.” Quentin crammed the book bag into his bag and swung around to the bed again. He pushed his way between a few of the healers, both of which glared at him. Quentin ignored them and reached down to pat Eliot’s cheek.

 “Eliot? Hey! El! It’s Quentin, look at me!”

“Uhnnh?” Eliot blinked up at Quentin, who noticed that his corneas were starting to turn yellowish-grey. His stomach gave an unpleasant lurch but he cupped Eliot’s face with both hands. “Eliot! Listen, you’ve been stabbed with an enchanted blade, and the only thing that can stop its curse is your most precious possession. What is it?”

 “My . . . ?” Eliot managed to say before his long frame shuddered. One of the healers pointed.

 “Professor, look, it’s spreading more rapidly now.”

 Professor Sunderland pulled down the sheet that covered Eliot from his mid-chest to his groin and gave a gasp of surprise mixed with disgust. The roots and vines were tunneling under Eliot’s skin and breaking through here and there. Quentin glanced down and then away, his stomach giving a more serious clench.

 “El, come on! Talk to me! What’s your most important possession?”

 Eliot stared up at him a moment more before his eyes went blank and he lost consciousness again. Quentin turned away, shoving his hands into his hair.

 “Shit!” He snapped softly, and Margo put a hand on his arm.

 “We need to get back to the cottage, go through El’s things. He won’t like it, but that’s tough titty. Come on.” She tugged on Quentin’s arm until he followed, although he gave Eliot one more glance as they left the room and out a side door that would take them across the Sea and back toward the cottage. Quentin had to jog to keep up with Margo despite the fact he was nearly four inches taller.

 “How are we going to find his most important possession if we don’t know what’s important to him?” He puffed. Margo kept striding along, her expression set.

 “We’ll have to fake it.”

 “We can’t just fake it! If we’re wrong then Eliot’s dead! I don’t know if the Virgo blade they found on Mike is the exact one from Fillory, but if it is, then we don’t have a lot of time!”

 They reached the cottage and Margo slammed the front door open. The common area was mostly empty and Margo’s heels rang on the steps as she climbed them without pausing. Quentin followed, unslinging his shoulder bag as they reached Eliot’s room. Margo undid Eliot’s wards and pushed the door open.

 “If El does survive, he’s gonna be so pissed about this,” she sighed as she turned on the lights.

 Quentin set his messenger bag down as he glanced around the room. He’d been in it many times, from helping Eliot to bed if he’d drank too much at a party or just laying on the floor or bed while he and Margo shared their pot and edibles and wine with him. While the room didn’t have the spartan feel of Penny’s or the strong female vibe of Alice’s, it was drenched with Eliot’s scent and aesthetic. It felt haunted. A chill chased up Quentin’s spine like someone had dragged an ice chip along his bare skin. Margo began opening dresser drawers and pawing through them.

 “Check the closet,” She said as she pulled out scarves, socks, silk boxers, and folded pocket squares. Quentin went to the closet and tugged the doors open. The illusion made Quentin blink—like Snoopy’s doghouse and the TARDIS, the space was much bigger inside than out. He groped for a light switch, found one, and illuminated four racks of clothing, two shoe racks, (both full,) A few hat boxes, and storage containers stacked up at both side of the space.

 “Do you think it might be an article of clothing?” He called out to Margo, who was now emptying another drawer. “You know, like his favorite pair of shoes?”

“The Prada slip-on is a classic, but I doubt that’s going to be a cure!”

 “So it probably wouldn’t be a shoe . . .” Quentin turned in a slow circle. “Choose wisely.” He spied a metallic box with a steel clip closure and picked it up. Something rolled around inside and he went to the closet door. “Margo, what’s in here?” He asked, and Margo paused in her own rooting around to glance over her shoulder. She pressed her lips together and rolled her eyes.

 “That’s Eliot’s vibrator collection!”

 “Oh God, uhm—” Quentin tucked the box back where he’d found it and shoved aside rows of silk, wool, and cotton. Most of them smelled like the cologne Eliot favored. It smelled like cedar after a rainstorm, paired with a sandalwood undertone. Quentin fought the urge to bury his face in Eliot’s cranberry blazer and glanced up. There were three different shelf levels, and the highest was at least five feet over Quentin’s head. He murmured a spell and pointed his fingers downward as he spread them wide. It allowed him to levitate and float until he was about an inch above eye level with the highest shelf. There wasn’t much to see: a few errant cobwebs, a leather cabbie cap that Eliot must have retired, a shoebox full of odds and ends that didn’t give Quentin many clues as to why they’d been saved. He rolled around a large blue-green marble, shuffled through a deck of cards that weren’t complete, and examined a ring that was much too small for Eliot’s fingers. It contained a simple sunburst gem, but the band was cracked. Quentin replaced it before fitting the lid back on the box and returning it to the shelf. Margo poked her head in and glanced up.

 “Any luck?”

 “There’s nothing here! Just clothes and accessories.” Quentin turned himself and ran his hands along the shelving, then gasped as something thin sliced across the top of his thumb like a razor. He yelped in surprise, pulled his hand back, then peered into the corner where two wooden joists met to create the shelf. Quentin reached in again and felt around the joists until he found a thin, tan mailing envelope, the kind without the protective bubbled surface. It was tucked between the joist and the wall, and Quentin had cut his thumb on the envelope’s lip. He tugged it out and floated back down to the floor, where Margo crowded him.

 “What’s in it?” She demanded. Quentin shrugged—there was no writing on the envelope, no label, no stamps. He undid the metal clasp and opened one end. Something thin and light fell into his hands, and he blinked. Margo’s delicate brow furrowed but then a knowing smile curved across her lips.

 “That’s it.”

 “But why? He can’t possibly—”

 “It makes sense in ways I don’t have time to tell you about.” She slid the object back into the envelope. “Come on.”

 ******

 “You’re certain that’s it?” Professor Sunderland asked as the healers brought over a warded, burning pot on a small wheeled cart. Eliot was no longer responsive, and the roots had grown along his arms, legs, and chest. His eyes were those of a corpse. Quentin glanced at Margo, who opened the tan envelope.

 “It’s the horse we bet on,” she sighed, sliding out the object inside, which she handed to Sunderland. The professor frowned.

 “I don’t understand.”

 “Can you puzzle it out later, before Eliot turns into Audrey II?” Margo asked, shifting her weight nervously, and the older woman nodded. She lit the burning pot, causing the flames to leap up, and tossed the square card into the fire. Quentin stood, unmoving, watching the letters there burn. Letters that spelled out his name on a stark white background. Quentin closed his eyes as he remembered the way Eliot had said his name for the first time when he’d read it off that card, the one that was burning away to cinders now.

 Quentin Coldwater??

 “I don’t believe it,” Sunderland muttered, and Quentin opened his eyes and swung around to look at her. She was watching the vines that had made their way through the skin on Eliot’s chest. As the card burned, they jerked, withered, and turned to dust. Margo smiled through her tears, fierce and triumphant.

 You and your first-year boys,” she murmured.

 It took nearly 24 hours for the last of the vines to curl up and die inside Eliot, leaving his skin unblemished, and Quentin sat with him whenever he could. He studied Eliot’s profile as he slept and healed, as he’d never truly dared to look Eliot in the eye when they spoke. There was something electric in the tall magician’s eyes when they were together, and Quentin had always been afraid that making eye contact would ignite it into something he wouldn’t be able to undo.

 As the sun went down on that second day, Eliot stirred and made a low questioning sound in his throat. Quentin glanced up from his copy of The World in the Walls and then set the book aside to touch Eliot’s hand.

 “El? Hey . . . can you hear me? Eliot, it’s Quentin. Eliot!”

 Eliot’s eyelids twitched and then lifted, revealing confused, sleepy amber eyes that were blessedly clear of that corpselike color. Quentin smiled, his own heart lifting.

 “Q?” Eliot questioned, and Quentin patted his hand.

 “Yeah, hey! How are you feeling?”

 “Mmmh . . .” Eliot struggled to sit up and Quentin leaned forward to raise the bed for him. “A little dizzy . . . what am I doing here? What . . .” His eyes widened all at once. “Mike.” He looked down at himself, but all that was left of the wound was hidden by a square of gauze to keep it clean. “We were in the clearing and he tried to stab you.”

 “And you jumped in the way and took him down. He stabbed you instead, but it wasn’t with an ordinary knife.” He showed Eliot the book and gave him a brief explanation of the blade. Eliot stared at him.

 “My most valued possession. And . . . since I’m clearly cured, you and Margo must have found it.”

 “We did.” Quentin cleared his throat. “I just—that is we—didn’t really understand. I never imagined you’d kept that stupid card. What made it so special, El?”

 “I remember when Henry assigned me the job of fetching you up to the house to take your test. I read your name off that card about two dozen times before you came through the hedge. I couldn’t imagine what a boy named Quentin Coldwater would look like. But then you came stumbling up to me, your mouth open, sweating buckets in that awful coat you had on . . .” Eliot smiled as Quentin filled a glass with water from the bedside table and handed it to him. “Thank you. And I knew then that I would be devastated if you failed your test. So I suppose I kept the card as a good luck charm—and so I wouldn’t forget your name when I left Brakebills and came to find you if you didn’t get in.”

 “But you didn’t even know me!”

 “No . . . I guess I didn’t. But I wanted to, Quentin. And if you understood how rare that is for me, that card being my most important possession makes sense. Maybe Margo knew that when she saw it, too.” Eliot put his other hand over Quentin’s and caught his gaze. Quentin swallowed hard as he felt that spark ignite, but it bloomed warm and hopeful in his chest instead of triggering the panic attack he’d feared.

 “Do, uhm . . . do you still want to know me?” He asked after a moment, and Eliot squeezed his hand.

 “I’ve been trying to get you to make eye contact with me for two months. If getting stabbed with an enchanted blade and ruining my favorite orchid shirt is the cost, then I’d say it was well worth the effort. Thank you, Q. You saved my life.”

 “And you saved mine.” Quentin moved from the chair to the edge of the bed. Eliot watched, giving him a guarded but hopeful smile that was so different from the cynical smirk he usually offered people.

 “I suppose that makes us even for now,” he allowed. Quentin pulled his feet up under him until he sat hip to hip with Eliot, who slipped an arm around his shoulders. Quentin blushed but didn’t pull away, and Eliot leaned against him.

 “Quentin Coldwater,” he said, his tone and inflection making the letters sound like music.

 “I’m sorry we had to burn the card, El.”

 “That’s all right.” He leaned against Quentin and focused on his heartbeat: strong, sure, young.

 “I’ve traded up, anyway.”

 Fin

[hannahberrie]

Everybody Talks | Chapter 2:  Frogface

Fandom: Stranger Things Pairing: Mileven Rating: K WC: 2715 Summary: During Biology class, El struggles with her growing feelings for Mike. 

[AO3]  Chapter Selection: [1]-2-[3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12][13][14][15][Epilogue]

It started in history class last year.

El’s teacher had been trying (and failing) to set up the overhead projector for 20 minutes. Meanwhile, the class was growing antsier by the minute; hushed whispers quickly escalated into full-on conversations, laughter, and before long, no one seemed to care that they were even in class anymore.

The teacher had not only given up on trying to hold back muttered curses of frustration, but also on fixing the projector himself. As the students chucked spitballs and paper airplanes at each other, he called the office, asking for an A.V. club student to come over and fix the “goddamn thing.”

Minutes later, Mike had walked in wearing one of his dorky wool sweaters and a hall pass lanyard around his neck. “What’s the problem?” He’d asked, glancing between the rowdy class and red-faced teacher in both hesitance and alarm.  

“This damn projector won’t turn on!” The teacher huffed in reply, “All these good-for-nothing technologies they make us use now…back in my day, there was nothing wrong with good, old-fashioned books and chalkboards!”

“Right,” Mike had said in a dismissive sort of way that made El snort. He moved over to examine the projector more closely, getting out a handful of tools from his backpack.

El had watched as he worked, and though he didn’t notice her, she found herself noticing everything about him. Like the way he pushed up his sleeves, the way he looked so focused, the way he tucked his pocket screwdriver behind his ear when he wasn’t using it, or the way that smiled excitedly when he’d figured something out.

Her heart had done a weird flip-floppy thing in her chest, and as it beat slightly faster, it matched the rhythm of her train of thought: cute, cute, cute, cute.

For a moment, she’d wondered if she was getting sick. She certainly felt like it. Sick and crazy and ridiculous. She knew nothing about him but wanted to know everything.

“There,” Mike had said once he’d finished, “You just had to adjust the Fresnel lens, nothing serious.”

The teacher furrowed his brow. “The what?”

“The condenser?” Mike offered. When the teacher still looked lost, Mike continued, more slowly, “The big glass thing.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Mike left the room, El was left reeling.

He’s still wearing that same sweater today, El notices as she sneakily examines him from across the biology classroom. Even though he’s seated in the front row and she’s all the way in the back, she still has a pretty good angle on him. Since his back is to her, she doesn’t even have to worry about him catching her.

As she watches him take notes, she half-heartedly realizes that she’s kind of acting like a total weirdo. Then again, that isn’t far off from her reputation around school.

El knows what other kids at school think of her. She’s not an idiot — she sees the frightened glances she and Max get in when they enter school with their ripped jeans and dark eyeshadow, or the whispers that are exchanged when they’re busted for something. 

And yet, while every other student seems to notice her, and how different she is, to Mike, she’s practically invisible.

Well, at least, she was.

Her mind goes back to last Friday, to that grungy detention room. When El and Max had entered, and El had seen them, him, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from gasping, though it was only loud enough for Max to hear.

“What?” Max had hissed, glancing back at her.

“Nothing,” El had muttered quickly.

“You know these dweebs?” Max moved her gaze towards the boys in their desks.

“I know Mike,” El had admitted, hoping she didn’t sound too nervous, “He’s president of the A.V. Club.”

Mortensen had turned to lecture them after that, shutting down any further questions from Max, which El was immensely grateful for. She’s definitely not ready to let Max know that she has a crush on a ‘dweeb’ like Mike. She’d never hear the end of all the teasing.

But despite Max almost finding out about her crush, last Friday was definitely the best day ever. Mike had sat right next to her. Without her even asking. And he’d talked to her.

Just thinking about it makes El want to explode, but in a good way. It also makes her doodle hearts in the corner of her notebook as she daydreams about Mike and all the various ways he could confess that he can’t stop thinking about her, either.

She’s in the middle of imagining an elaborate scenario that involves a bouquet of waffles and a motorcycle ride when she abruptly realizes that everyone in the class, including the teacher, including Mike, is staring at her.

She freezes, wishing more than anything that she could disappear. Should she say anything? She can’t just keep sitting here, looking like a total mouthbreather…

“Eleanor?” The teacher, Mrs. Hawthorne, asks. She’s looking at El over the rim of her glasses, the way she always does when she’s had it up to here with someone. “Can you answer the question?”

What question? She wasn’t even listening!

El swallows, cheeks feeling hot. “I…uh…I don’t know,” she mumbles quietly.

“I don’t know,” Troy, Hawkins High’s resident asshole, quietly mimics in a squeaky voice, earning a hushed round of snickers from his cronies.

El gives him a death glare, but Troy ignores her.

“That’s ok,” her teacher says gently, “But you need to pay attention.” This only causes more snickers from Troy and his friends, and El can feel her hands start to shake.

Keep it under control. Not here, not here.

She takes a deep breath and relinquishes her grasp just as the teacher asks, “Can anyone else answer the question?”

Mike raises his hand, and El feels her heart skip a beat. “The nictitating membrane is a frog’s third eyelid,” He answers easily, “It helps the frog keep its eye moistened.”

“Frogface,” Troy not-so-subtly coughs.

Mike rolls his eyes, but El notices the red tinge of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks. For the second time in the past minute, she wants to completely destroy Troy, or, at the very least, give him what he deserves (which, to be fair, is complete destruction).

“Thank you, Michael,” Their professor says, throwing Troy a dirty look. “Now that we’ve covered the pre-lab questions, I think we oughta get started with the experiment.”

Experiment? El turns her focus to the board, trying to remember what they’re even studying right now.

“For the frog dissection, I’m going to assign you partners at random,” Mrs. Hawthorne explains.

Oh right. They were dissecting frogs today. Remembering this makes El’s stomach churn, and she starts to feel anxious. This is a class that she’s been dreading ever since their teacher first mentioned it, though she’d completely forgotten that they were doing it today.

Mrs. Hawthorne starts reading out names in pairs, matching students up with their respective lab partners. El crosses her fingers under her desk, hoping, praying, she won’t get Troy. He’s the only thing, at least that she can think of, that’s more disgusting than having to cut open a frog.

“Eleanor...”

Please not Troy, please not Troy, ANYONE but Troy...

“...You’ll be working with Michael.”

El freezes. Michael? As in…

Mike turns to glance back at her with a small smile, and El feels herself melt. Seriously. Her heart feels all mushy and her stomach is all flip-floppy and it takes everything within El to not grin like an idiot. Nevertheless, she’s able to maintain the indifferent, stoic look that she often sports around school — the look that shields her from seeming like the total dope she feels like on the inside.

Mrs. Hawthorne finishes pairing up the rest of the class. When she tells everyone to get started, the whole class gets up in a chaotic flurry of movement.  Everyone’s running to either their partner, their lab table, or the supply closet in the back of the room. El is just rising to her feet — legs feeling like Jell-O — when suddenly Mike is standing right in front of her and she’s trying to remember how to blink properly.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey,” she replies, suddenly feeling self-conscious about everything she’s doing, like how she’s standing. Should she put her hands in his pockets, like he’s doing, or should she cross them? On her hips? WHY was worrying about this, again?

“So, I guess we’re like, partners,” Mike says.

“Yeah,” El says, amazed at just how nonchalant she’s able to sound, considering the circumstances.

Mike glances around the busy classroom. “So, I can go get the supplies, if you want, it looks pretty gnarly back there,” he offers. “And you can get us a table.”

El nods. “Okay.”

Mike gives her another small smile, and despite her desperate attempts to remain as laid-back as possible, she finds herself smiling back.

The two part ways. As El finds them a lab table, she can’t help but feel frustrated. Being closed-off from people is her form of protection. It keeps people like Troy from learning her vulnerabilities, and, she realizes as she glances down at her own hands, her strengths.

But Mike…

Mike undoes everything. Mike makes El want to smile and giggle and blush and act like a total knucklehead. She’s happy with being a loner, happy with being able to trust Max and Max alone. It’s safe, comfortable. Her feelings for Mike, on the other hand?

Completely terrifying.

Mike returns with a tray of goggles, gloves, forceps, pins, and a plastic container that smells an indescribable kind of terrible. The pungent odor makes El crinkle up her nose, and she looks up at Mike skeptically.

“Yeah, this thing totally reeks,” Mike gripes, passing her a pair of safety goggles.

“Totally,” El agrees, taking the goggles. Their fingers brush for the briefest of moments, and El feels her cheeks grow warm.

El tries not to stare as Mike slips on his safety goggles. The strap brushes against his hair and makes it floof up slightly.

Cute, cute, cute, cute.

They slip on some plastic gloves, line the tools up in a row, and remove the frog from the plastic container. El feels her stomach churn again as Mike lays the frog’s stiff, frozen body out on the tray.

Mike gets out their teacher’s Xeroxed lab instructions and reads them over quickly.

“Alright, so,” he begins, pushing up his sleeves and getting their tools out, “It looks like we have to identify the organs and fill out the diagram on this worksheet,” he turns to her, holding out the scalpel, “Do you want to do the cutting?”

El’s eyes widen. She glances at the scalpel, at Mike, and shakes her head quickly. “I’ll do the worksheet,” she offers, pulling the paper closer to her.

“Aww, you’re not scared, are you?” Mike teases. “It’s just a little frog.” He holds up the frog’s arm and makes it wave at her.

“No!” El tries to hold back both a giggle and cry of disgust, but instead gives off a strangled sort of snorting sound that only makes Mike smile even more.

El composes herself and gives him her best-annoyed look, “It’s gross.”

“It’s not THAT gross,” Mike replies, “I mean, it’s a little gross, but it’s also super cool! Like, we’re gonna get to see all his intestines and his liver and stuff!”

He’s definitely not wrong about that.

Once Mike cuts the frog open, they can see every last veiny, slimy, nasty organ inside. El keeps her eyes trained either on Mike or their worksheet, knowing that she won’t be able to last a minute if she has to keep looking at the poor frog.

Mike seems aware of this, as he doesn’t tease her anymore. Instead, he takes on the tasks of cutting, examining, and prying. He seems really into it, if the way he excitedly babbles about the abnormal length of the spleen means anything. Even though it’s still super gross, the way Mike explains it to her — passionately, earnestly, an excited glint on his eye — she can’t help but admire his efforts to make it less scary.

He’s a total nerd about the whole thing, and yet, El finds herself loving every moment of it.

When the class ends and it’s time to pack up, El finds herself actually upset that it’s over.

“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Mike asks her as they properly dispose of the frog and remove their gloves, “I mean, it smelt really weird, and I know you didn’t like all the organs, or how it kinda squirted frog guts everywhere when I accidentally punctured the —“

“Mike,” El cuts him off, not really wanting to relive that particular moment, “It was fine.”

“Really?” Mike slides his goggles up, and now that they’re resting in his scruffy hair, El notices the splay of freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks.

Cute, cute, cute, cute.

El swallows and nods. “Yeah.”

Mike gives her another smile as they finish cleaning up.  They conclude just as the bell rings, signaling the end of class.

As their classmates file out of the room, El goes back to her desk to get her things. Mike grabs his backpack and slowly makes his way over to the doorway but doesn’t leave, and it’s only when El notices the glances he keeps giving her that she realizes he’s stalling for her.

El holds back a smile as she makes her way towards the door, hoping Mike can’t tell that every step she takes towards him makes her heart flutter all the more.

“By the way,” Mike says as she approaches him and the two walk into the bustling hallway together, “How’d you solve my Rubik’s cube? I’ve been working on it forever.”

El shrugs, still a little unsure herself. “I just tried.”

“Seriously? I can’t believe you did it so fast! Like, you were amazing!”

Amazing? El glances up at him, eyes wide, and Mike suddenly looks alarmed.

“I mean, how fast you did it was amazing, not that you, personally, are amazing,” he quickly amends, “Not that you’re not amazing, though! You’re pretty cool, I guess. I mean, you seem cool, I know we’ve never really talked before or anything, but maybe — ”

“Mike!” Someone calls out.

El looks over to see Mike’s friends waiting at the end of the hall, huddle by his locker. Mike looks relieved for the interruption and immediately stops babbling.

“Well, I gotta go,” he instead says to El, giving her an apologetic look. “But maybe I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” El replies, trying not to sound too hopeful, and just like that, Mike is off.

“Why were you walking with HER?” El hears one of his friends — Dustin, she’s pretty sure — ask before the boys submerge into the rushing crowd of Hawkins High students, out of earshot.

As Mike disappears from view, El is suddenly left wondering if that was the conclusion to their story. Was that the last time they’d ever speak to each other? The last time he’d ever acknowledge that she existed? What did ‘maybe I’ll see you later,’ mean, anyway?

El looks down at her hands. She knows she’s different, powerful, dangerous — and yet, all she feels now is a delirious sort of weakness.

She’s turning into such a knucklehead. A blushing, embarrassingly love-sick knucklehead.

And yet…

She doesn’t completely hate it.

El crosses her fingers and desperately hopes that she won’t become invisible to him again.

[bennjy131]

Supergirl Fandom Bullshit

Its sad when fandoms’ take the actions of characters who are unfamiliar with our present society’s rules and conventions for reasons to hate them, its even more problematic and pitiful when they resort to name calling characters’ whose culture embraced a more warlike, barbaric, emotional and somewhat hedonistic attitudes whereas the main character’s culture evolved into a logical and quite sterile attitude towards life. Further more when said hated character happens to be in total culture shock on a new planet and has to be reeducated by someone from their culture’s sworn enemy. Its hard to hate a character who is on a new planet, a full grown adult who was raised in a vastly different planet and culture who has to relearn all forms of convention to adapt to their new adoptive world. Its even harder when their liaison into this new culture comes from the culture that deemed hated character’s customs as lower and beneath liaison. Liaison was also raised on adoptive world after a time and learned to adjust but still holds prejudices and upholds others from similar worlds to their own to the same customs that they were taught even though the latter is a fully grown adult being culture shock and the former had the advantage of a formative education.

However none of this is any excuse to tolerate behaviour that we deem unacceptable nor is it a free pass to do things that are wrong in ones new adoptive culture. The shade I am slinging here is that a character who is similar in many ways to the main but is from a more war-like and hedonistic society trying to figure out their new adoptive planet’s ways does get some slack when adjusting to a new life on a new planet, they don’t get to get away with unreasonable behaviour but they do get slack when it comes to adjusting. Especially if the two characters who happen to have similar abilities and thus a greater chance at understanding each other due to similar circumstances. Especially when they have proven a want to understand, and yes that may have a hetero romantic angle but the character has shown to have a lot of affection for a character of their own orientation in so much as they took responsibility for a scheme they devised and even tried to bond with said earth friend.

So no you don’t get to rightfully call Mon-el a FUCKBOY, 

A fuckboy knows what he’s doing is problematic, he doesn’t care, he’s aware you don’t like it, doesn’t see your wants needs or opinions as important and most of all its a fucking term people have recently come up with for the shit people they have, in their real life, tolerated who made them feel bad so they feel the need to attack fictional characters who never got this much hate before only because they are on your tv screen and your ship isn’t currently valid.

   You may also have never dated anyone so your understanding of relationships are purely theoretical when concerning romantic relationships

Guess what my ship isn’t either, I ship KaraLena, I ship Mon-Winn and I ship Kara-Mel, do I see Kara-Mel better suited for friendship sure, do i see it as a good ship for logical reproductive purposes sure.

I don’t ship Karamel actively because of their origin stories, this Kara is very like Clark ( which is a first since she’s basically given Clark’s back story in this incarnation with minor tweaks but there’s still Lane and Olson in the picture) she’s idealistic and slightly naive, its not a negative but she was given a happy valley fifties upbringing she’s an “all american girl” she hailed from a planet of scientific excellence which evolved into a logical and slightly sterile way of being, her planet’s history is shown to have many dark periods, her parents kept a lot from her and she wasn’t given all the information when it comes to her culture so her view is very narrow. Secondly the whole internalized prejudice against her sister planet Daxam is a common theme in many small warring city states where they grow up so closely together yet never truly interact unless to be at war which only raised a prejudice outlook on each other. I don’t find Mon-El as a good fit for Kara either, its not even his name we don’t know his life, what little we get from it shows us his planet was driven by emotion and the moment, their less logical ways were an affront to Krypton and they were rough around the edges calling the Kryptonians snobs. He’s a fully grown adult when he arrives on earth his prejudices are far more ingrained and when it comes down to it they both are who they are and despite that they are shipped even though they have better chemistry with other people. Their ship fits the logic of lost children from dead planets of similar origin, their similar biology makes them prime for mating purposes and he even said he’d want to mate with Kara but I am not sure that mating and loving are the same thing, I feel both planets have love and mating but the two aren’t always inclusive of each other. 

Lastly “Mike”/Mon-el has the best chemistry with Winn, because in the end Winn with an open mind got to know this new alien, they bonded, there was a scheme and a mutual respect. Winn was there for Kara before any of this bullshit and honestly his would be the only opinion I respect, plus Winn has like Barry and any one better than Olson, when it came to a romantic rival, hell he relished in how uncomfortable Jimmy gets when Barry appeared and again when Mon shows up;  because Olson was too afraid to ever step up when it came to Kara he played this bullshit high school drama of a triangle instead of just being honest. He’s always gonna be in danger just like Lois but unlike Lois he was too afraid to go for what he wanted and by the time he got it Kara had started to wane because that’s normal that’s life and thats real. If you have ever falling in love, been in relationships or even dated you will find that sometimes the idea of a person is what you really were after not the actual person and that sadly is how Jimmy is written he’s still Superman’s friend who also wants to be seen.