#mike stop

[sinnersmovie]

Law & Order

Mike, stop that 14/?

[liminalgayhorror]

“Mike rejecting Will is more realistic!”

You know what else would’ve been realistic? Steve being homophobic to Robin. You know what made an infinitely better show? The Duffers sticking to the theme of letting the outcasts win for once.

[abylou]

overheating

[365filmsbyauroranocte]

The White Lotus S03E08 'Amor Fati' (Mike White, 2025)

[wisermoon]

mike tried to call will

MIKE TRIED TO CALL WILL

MIKE TRIED TO CALL WILL

[kryobug]

Closing Night Spoilers 😇

hai tumblr I havent posted in one billion trillion years this is me coming back because Closing Night gave me a dopamine rush and I crunched tjis stupid meme in like 3 hours ok Bye..

[lvve-talks]

not a fuckin' toy. `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ tw gunplay

His body was all sweat slick heat against yours, both of your chests heaving in time as you caught your breath from tustling around in his threadbare sheets. One of his arms was haphazardly thrown around you as he leaned against the wall his bed was pushed up against, lacking a headboard.

It was always like this on lazy days with Riff. Lounging around in each other’s body heat in between rounds, never really cooling off. Especially in the summer when the heat pressed in from the outside, too. The window was thrown open for the occasional breeze, but you’d both rather stay naked all day for a couple of reasons.

You slide out of his rickety old bed casually, your feet dropping onto the wood floor to carry you across the room in search for his cigarettes and a lighter. You picked through the clothes strewn across the floor when something catches your eye on his dresser, sticking out from under one of his shirts thrown across the top.

It glinted in the light as you approached, tugging it out from its hiding spot and feeling the weight of it in your hands. The steel was heavy for something so small, cool compared to the heat of the air around you. You turned halfway to face him, rotating the gun in your hands.

“The hell do you have this for?” You question, shooting him a look as you tear your eyes away from the metal in your grasp.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it. Put it down,” he answers dismissively, pushing his dark hair off his sweaty forehead and beckoning you back to the bed with a jerk of his head.

You ignore him, a strange fascination with the piece in your hands taking over you as you look back down at it. You grip it like you’ve seen in the movies or like the cops do, admiring how it looks in your delicate hand.

“Hey,” his voice is a bit sharper now when you don’t listen to him. “That ain’t a fuckin’ toy. Put it down,” he demands again.

To his dismay, his tone only makes you feel even more defiant, a mischievous smirk settling on your lips as you approach him, pointing the gun right at him. “Put your hands up, delinquent.”

His eyes narrow dangerously at you. It’s not loaded, he’s not fucking stupid. The safety’s on, and your finger’s not even on the trigger. But seeing you point that thing at him…

When you get close enough to the bed again, gun still pointed straight out in front of you, directly at him, he rises to the challenge. He leans forward, pressing his forehead directly to the end of the barrel. One wrong move and you could splatter his brains on the wall behind him.

His eyes burn as they look up at you, almost in a dare. He’s daring you to take his challenge, to squeeze that trigger and hear the mechanical click of a quick death. Your heart is beating faster now, your expression falling at the sudden intensity of the moment. There’s something so inherently intimate about the illusion of holding someone else’s life in your hands, and them letting you.

And then his hand is on the gun, snatching it away from your hand as he uses the other to wrap around your waist and pull you forward into him. His expression is still just as intense, his fiery gaze never leaving your face.

“You don’t play around with this shit, you hear me?” He asks, his eyebrows raising expectantly as he waves the gun out of your reach. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing, could blow someone’s goddamn head off,” he hisses and you give a little nod feeling like a scolded kid.

“You feel all tough with this thing pointed at me? Huh?” he questions, making your body shiver as he runs the cool metal up your thigh. “You feel like a big girl?” he suddenly presses the length of the barrel against the heat of your core making you gasp and shudder.

“Was jus’ messin’ around, Riff,” you mumble, your hand gripping his wrist tightly, but you're unsure whether you're wanting to push him away or keep him right where he is.

“Yeah. Exactly,” he huffs, breaking your grip to toss the gun aside. “Don’ want you messin’ around with your life,” he pulls you down to straddle his lap by his grip on your hips, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

Your life. You were the one holding the gun out at him and he was concerned about your life.

Riff Lorton already knew he was heading for an early grave, but he’d be damned if you were resigned to the same fate.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Today, Mike had woken up on the wrong side of his bed so he was especially vicious as he ranted about anything he found irritating about Steve.

He hadn't even reached the midpoint when Dustin decided to rip him a new one. Which, yeah, was fair because he didn't usually do Steve that dirty. But his bad mood had taken over and he found himself arguing with Dustin.

"It's not like you don't gripe about him every day," Mike retorted heatedly. "In fact, you are the one making fun of him the most out of everybody here," he gestured widely at the others (Lucas cringed, Will looked guilty, Max and Erica high-fived each other, El nodded calmly, Eddie just gave him a little wave).

"That's because I'm his brother," Dustin said matter-of-factly while adopting Steve's signature mom pose. "But who are you? You're just his ex's brother. Without Nancy, you're just a random kid to him."

(Eddie, Max, and Erica looked at each other with the same smirk. "Oh, that burns."

Lucas just sighed helplessly as Will and El watched on in amusement.)

Mike's nostril flared indignantly. He would never ever admit this, but while he thought Steve was lame and an idiot sometimes, he respected Steve plenty. Not enough to admire, but enough to fight Dustin for him.

"So what? I know him longer than you," Mike fired back. "I have more M&M's and 3 Musketeers from him than you do, I played baseball with him every weekend, and I also watched Star Wars with him."

"You do understand what ex means, right?" Dustin narrowed his eyes at him. "Nancy's his ex-girlfriend, ergo you're his ex-something, ergo you need to stop living in the past. You know why? Because I," Dustin pointed at himself smugly, "am his favorite now. I'm the present and the future. His shotgun, his house, his pool, his snack cupboard will forever be mine, thank you very much."

And just like that, all hell broke loose.

Because not even Will was willing to accept that bullshit. Steve never had a favorite, okay? As their babysitter, he wasn't allowed to.

"What the fuck are you fighting for?" Mike glared at Erica who was (impressively) making Dustin wail like Mew on the floor.

"Steve still owes me a lifetime of free ice cream, duh," she looked at him like he was an idiot. "Stop talking shit and come help me."

A wise man once said: "Enemy's enemies are friends."

So it only took Mike a second to give her a hand.

———

"Why didn't you stop them?" Steve asked in exasperation, thinking about the fistfight that would've taken place in the Wheelers' basement had he not interfered on time.

"'Cause the more they eliminate among themselves," Eddie leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially, "the less I gotta fight to keep you."

"But I'm their babysitter," Steve pushed him away with a finger on the forehead. "And you're supposed to make it easier for me, not harder."

"Sweetheart," Eddie grabbed his wrist and nuzzled his nose into it, "Just say the word and I'll make something harder for you right now."

"You're incorrigible," Steve rolled his eyes, but his pretty smile had betrayed his mood.

"Yeah, all because of you, baby," Eddie pressed his lips on the back of Steve's hand. "O prithee, my princess, give me the remedy."

"What if I don't have any?" Steve raised his brow.

"You do, darlin'," Eddie pulled him close and cradled his face. "My tonic is right here," a kiss on his forehead. "My joys," on his eyelids. "My happiness," on his his nose and then his mouth, "my love."

Later, when they cuddled in bed, sweet and tender after loving each other til midnight, he would tell Eddie there was no need to ask for him in the first place.

Because he had been Eddie's boy since the day the battle vest was draped on him.

It seemed Steve did have a favorite, after all.

Except, it was none of his kids.

Truly a tragedy.

[sceletaflores]

five nights in 5,000 different positions

[oobbbear]

Best dynamic

[ishkabibblethings]

It's @pace37's fault

[willfreakbyers]

Finn calling out the mileven shippers who project themselves onto El

[chlmtsdoll]

they don’t know what seeing those dimples up close can do to a girl *sigh*

[bratrick]

THAT RIGHT THERE IS EVIDENCE YOUR HONOR

[systarkitty]

I'm going to the toilet in my pants