#thank you Mike for understanding the assignment

[aussie-bookworm]

It’s time to watch Michael Caine put his whole Michael Cussy into performing with a bunch of Muppets

[likedovesinthewindd]

graveyard shift — mike schmidt

summary: mike has a soft spot for abby's babysitter

a/n: I haven't even watched fnaf (but trust I will) so if something doesn't make sense close one eye.

You loved babysitting Abby. She was, without a doubt, the easiest child you've ever had to look after. She was a little shy but sweet, nonetheless, and mouthy every now and then. Every night was more fun the previous.

It was a little past twelve, and by now, Abby was already fast asleep in her room after the two of you spent the whole evening playing to her small heart's content. You decided to busy yourself working on a assignment you had been procrastinating on for a few weeks now.

You hadn't even noticed, but the quiet, calm atmosphere that engulfed the space paired with the soft sounds of the rain outside was slowly lulling you to sleep. It wasn't long before your eyes started to droop and the words on your laptop's screen started blurring every few seconds.

When you felt satisfied that you had gotten enough work finished for the night, you decided to rest your eyes for a moment and lay down on the slightly uncomfortable couch. You hadn't even noticed how long and deeply you had been asleep until you were startled by Mike as he sank into the couch tiredly.

"M'sorry, didn't mean to wake you," he muttered softly. He looked tired, really tired.

"It's okay," you said, rubbing at your eyes before sitting upright. "You alright?" you asked after a few short moments. He sighed before answering. "Yeah," he said, "just tired." You nodded in understanding, looking at the way he rubbed his palms over his face. "Abby alright?" he asked once he pulled his hands from his face. You nodded with a happy hum. "She always is," you said with a smile, "she wanted a tea party today. Somehow became political." That earned you a scoffed mixed with a laugh.

You looked over at him. He had his head rested against the couch's headrest and eyes closed. "You sure you're okay?" you asked again, not wanting to pry but concerned. "Yeah, I'm fine," he almost whispered, eyes still closed.

"She really likes you, y'know" he added after a while, turning his head towards you. You smiled, warmth settling deep in your belly. It was good to know Abby liked you. "I like her too, she's a nice kid," you said quietly.

"Thanks for looking after her," he said, "I'll pay you—" "When you can," you said before standing up. "I saved you some food, I'll reheat it for you," you added, not giving him time to argue with you. He gave you a small "thank you" before closing his eyes for a few seconds.

"I better get going," you said softly, making Mike open his eyes. "Your food's in the microwave."

"You're gonna drive? It's raining pretty bad," he said standing up from the couch with a grunt. You hadn't even noticed how much the rain had intensified till he pointed it out. "You can stay here for the night," he added when he saw your conflicted expression. "You sure?" you asked. "I don't want to driving in that weather," he said. "I'm sure," he added with a bit more firmness.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Unlikely But Welcome

Hey, Duffers? Give me more Harrington-Byers content. Let me give you a suggestion.

Give me Jonathan who realizes that Steve has really grown as a person and eventually decides to give him a chance, they start a reluctant friendship. It's not easy or fast, but they often drop the kids off to the Hellfire Club campaigns and they sometimes have to wait together outside, maybe share a cigarette or something and chat about anything and everything.

Jonathan talks about the life he had in California and maybe admits to Steve that he never feels that carefree here, it's like having constant weight on his shoulders. It feels weird, talking to the former King Steve about the guilt and paranoia, but Steve actually listens and understands, he just chuckles and takes a drag from the cigarette, admits to Jonathan that he is going out of his mind whenever the kids don't walkie him for several days. "But that's what we're here for, right?" he smiles at Jonathan and passes the smoke back, "we're scared shitless for them and worry about every stupid thing so they can have a good time. As much as possible after all that."

They start hanging out at Steve's house, planning outings for the little shitheads, fairs, Halloween parties, anything with the promise of giving the kids back at least pieces of their lost childhoods. The rest of the young adults join in too, Argyle with his constant enthusiasm, Eddie and his manic energy, Robin with her undying sarcasm and Nancy who is ridden by the same guilt as the two of them, seeing what the Upside Down did to Mike and his friends.

It's there that Jonathan notices Steve's house is devoid of any personality, he only has a few polaroids in his room and those are carefully stored in his drawer, as if he's ashamed of them. So Jonathan picks up his camera again, after the long break in California, and gets to what he knows the best. He snaps pictures of Steve and Robin giggling, drunk on punch, as she re-creates the YOU SUCK / YOU RULE scoreboard on a random paper, he captures the exact moment Eddie tackles Steve into the pool when they're sweating like crazy while preparing a barbecue for their gaggle of kids. He smiles to himself as he captures Eddie shotgunning with Steve for the first time, documents Steve's wide smile as he's high as a kite and discussing very important topics with Argyle, such as whether tabby or ginger cats are superior. There are more pictures - Steve with Nancy as they argue about the format of the Halloween party invitations while Eddie sketches suggestions in the background, Dustin jumping at Steve to hug him, the reluctant fist bump between Steve and Mike, Steve sitting between Erica and Max, all three with sunglasses and a sign that says "the cool trio". When he knocks on Steve's door on one day and gives him the photographs, Steve's face lights up like a Christmas tree. He gets all of them framed and completely covers the walls of his room with his found family.

There is a stupid assignment that has Dustin frustrated, presentations on their families - apparently a male influence is needed, a single family member isn't enough, so Jonathan nudges him and whispers "what about Steve? Does an older brother count?" and Dustin's face lights up, drags Steve over for a picture for his presentation. They pose for several pictures, Steve holding Dustin in the air, leaning on each other like partners in crime, and everyone's laughing, maybe sheds a tear or two.

If Jonathan had any doubts about Steve, they disappear the second he takes the last picture and Steve comes over to him, hugs him with a quiet thank you. And then he taps his camera and asks: "hey, show me how to operate this thing? I'm pretty sure I need to take over for a second." Jonathan is confused for a moment, but then he sees Will looking at him with a shy expression and realizes - oh. Maybe this is why they work so well as friends, because they have this in common - filling in the roles they were never supposed to have, but would not give up for the world. He gives Steve a quick rundown and then drags Will to the living room, posing for pictures and reenacting Steve's suggestions, fighting with imaginary swords and slaying dragons (or Dustin who offered to stand in for the legendary creature). In the end, Steve's pictures are a bit blurry, but Jonathan treasures them.

And then there's the incident outside of Hellfire, they're smoking together again, laughing about the secret Santa they're organizing for the kids ("I swear to god, Jonathan, Dustin's learning to knit. He's determined to send Suzie-poo a handmade scarf and I'm trying to be supportive, I really am, but it looks like a blob of cotton"). The kids barge outside, excited as always, and Will is beaming too, he found so much in common with Eddie and they're rapidly talking, exchanging ideas for the next sessions. But of course, there's no rest for the freaks - the basketball practice ends around the same time and one of Jason's lackeys bumps into Will, snarls at him. "Of course you two get along. A freak and a fag, hard to tell which one is which." The smile instantly drops from Will's face and Eddie's straightening up, glaring at the sophomore, and Jonathan's blood runs cold when-

It's Steve who takes the first step towards the boy and even though his legend is long gone, the boy staggers back. Memories flash in Jonathan's head, remembering how he lost the first camera, how terrifying Steve's anger could be, but Steve only grasps the boy's shoulder and smiles at him, as pleasant as possible. "I remember you, kid. Aren't you the one who always tries to sneak into the adult section of the Family Video, hm? And smokes in front of the store. Now if I recall, your mother is a very strict lady, I've met her once or twice...does she know?" And when the bully shakes his head, Steve's voice lowers to a growl. "Do you want her to know?" Another shake. "That's what I thought."

And with that, the bully his gone and Jonathan wants to check on his brother, except there is something happening in the group before him - Steve is whispering something into Eddie's ear and the older boy nods, his face serious and determined. Steve shoots an apologetic look at Jonathan, mouths "just a second" at him and they take Will to the side, talk to him in hushed voices. The rest of the party is chatting again, recalling their latest adventures, but Jonathan only has eyes for his younger brother and the strange new friend he made. He watches as Steve reaches under the collar of his shirt and pulls out a familiar looking pendant with a guitar pick. Watches as Eddie moves his watch to the side and reveals a fresh looking tattoo of a spiked bat. Will's eyes water and he hugs both of them, laughing into the embrace and Jonathan finally understands what Nancy meant, that Steve's grown up and he's a different person now, in more ways than one. He sees Steve and Eddie's fingers brush against each other, the shy glances masked in their usual teasing. And Will looks so much happier now, so much more confident that he knows - he could never hate Steve Harrington again.

When they both manage to get the kids (and Eddie who rides with Steve, of course he does) into their cars, Jonathan and Steve smile at each other, and then Jonathan, the distant Jonathan who is used to only observing, never initiating, embraces Steve. "I don't know how to repay you for what you did for Will, Steve," he admits.

Steve just laughs and pats Jonathan's back. "I only did what felt right. The kid deserves the world. But," he adds and grins at Jonathan, "if you're insistent on the repayment, how about you pick up some good beer for this week's movie night? I don't think I can survive more experimentation, Eddie and Robin are competing who can get a more obscure brand and I'm too old for that crap."

Jonathan snickers and gives Steve a thumbs up. Lame, but he doesn't seem to mind. "You've got it."

[gayofthefae]

I'd just like to say that my interpretation of season 1 from the very first watch was friends assign crush to Mike/assume inaccurately and after that he actually gets close with the girl.

Lucas accuses him in anger of prioritizing El over Will completely, which we know to be untrue, so I just took his reasoning to be equally false and in anger. Mike continues to focus on Will while working together with El, Dustin, and Lucas as he becomes closer with El than the others do via living with her. Then we see, especially in the "I understand" scene, that he may be considering the idea Lucas' words put into his head of viewing her romantically. That's always how I took it.*

*Actually, I didn't. I was very surprised when they kissed because I thought he was like "teaching her about friendship" and it was a defy the stereotypes and assumptions of your friends moment but in retrospect and second watch between seasons 1 and 2 or 2 and 3 this was my timeline.

Point being, whether you want it to support the ship or not, Mike's attraction to El was suggestible by Lucas. By the time Nancy comments, I don't think it was as much so anymore, I think he started considering it more around that "I understand" scene, but that is what I have always interpreted, not that Lucas caught onto something but that regardless of his sexuality, the assumption was based in heteronormativity. Mike liked El because Lucas suggested it to him. I think they might have otherwise just been friends with it not as a consideration and even expected as much on my first watch, as I said.

Maybe that means he adopted the heteronormativity and misinterpreted his own feelings. Maybe it means thank goodness for Lucas making him consider her that way. Whatever it is, that was always my order.

[rustboxstarr]

🎻You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me🎻

Pairings: Eddie Munson x UndiagnosedAutistic!PlusSize!ViolinPlayer!Orchestra!Harrington!Reader (Goddamn thats a lot)

Plot: When Dustins 15th birthday comes up Eddie is set out on a mission to get Steve to help. Unbeknownst to Eddie, Steve has a younger sister, a very strange, very mean sister. Theres something about her, he needs to understand how she became to be so different from her brother, so hes set out on his next mission to get the answers to his questions.

Summary: Eddie seeks out Steve and is introduced only briefly to you.

Chapter warnings: Practically absent father, slightly abusive mother, unfair treatment between Steve and Reader, Steves kinda mean, swearing, use of Y/N. Read series masterlist for storys warnings, tropes and Reader description, dw they're not major just a few)

Wordcount: 3.7k

A/N: This is the first chapter for You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me, thank you to everybody who voted for a series! This first chapter is short but they'll be longer in the future :)

Love yas!

Check out my other works! Series Masterlist

Next chapter

Dirty white Rebocks pattered against the gravel as Eddie hopped out of his van and made his way across the fading white lines littering the parking lot outside of Family Video. Looking around at the surrounding businesses littering the industrial area on the outskirts of town. All built with weakening concrete, mustard yellow and cream whites turning darker and blacker with age, just as the video store was. Hints of pink and purple painted the horizon as the sun and heat were starting to ease up from summer 1985 now that September was approaching. 

He was thankful for it as he started wearing his jeans again, leaving his worn down cargo shorts to gather dust under his bed till he had to dig them out again next summer. He had never been a fan of those cargos, but he had trouble finding any other article of clothing that could strife away the scalding temperatures, so he had been stuck constantly pulling at the hem by the waist, forcing them to stop sagging from under his belt, he felt ridiculous walking around in the, hanging off him as if he’d dressed himself in a trash bag, but now he was back in his comfortable skin wearing properly fitted jeans. 

He was on a mission after he’d been told by Mike that this was where the infamous King Steve worked and was given precise instructions on how to approach the subject, instructions which went in one ear and out the other as Eddie fought with the gamestick playing Pacman at the arcade only one day prior.

A greening gold bell rang above his head as he opened the glass door and stepped foot in the building lined with dark brown wooden shelves sporting various movies from a stingy amount of genres, the shelves depicting a confusing maze within the wallpapered walls. Whoever was in charge of planning how to best utilize the space, clearly had no idea what they were doing. 

He shimied around shelves placed too close together and far too close to comfortably open the door, navigating to a counter placed in the middle of the room as You don't have to stay forever, I will understand was heard through the tinny speakers, Elvis Presley's You Don’t Have To Say You Love Me occupied as the only sound in the room. The desk connected to the back wall where a relatively large box television hung silently playing Police Academy 2: Their first assignment. Eddie recognised the faded people moving about the screen but barely remembered the film, he knew he had seen it and from what he could remember he concluded that he was probably laughing his ass off with Gareth, completely out of it as they passed joints back and forth for hours on end.

Having Gareth over so often for weekly sessions was probably the biggest reason as to why his room smelled like skunk whenever someone entered it, smoke attaching to the fibers of his curtains, bed sheets, and clothing all dumped out onto the floor. Had they been at Gareth's house more often he might not get in trouble with his teachers quite as much as he did, being sent to the principal's office to be scolded and threatened with police by a strong whiff of weed lingering on every clothing item he had in his possession. 

The store wasn't exactly busy but stray patrons roamed the isles, selecting movies to gawk at for their perfect little family movie nights or possibly to numb the pain of living in the sleepy town of Hawkins on a friday night, that's what Eddie would do anyway. 

He’d never been close enough to see Steve Harrington in proper, only ever seen him roaming the halls when he attended highschool or picking up Dustin from hellfire but it was undoubtedly him as he laid eyes on a lemon yellow polo shirt fitting tightly over a muscular figure slouched at the counter flipping through some comic with his head resting flat on his palm, even more so certainly judging by the golden brown hair flopping over his eyes, the same hair he overheard girls fawn over as he walked past. Gag. 

Even though he had never even attempted to get to know Steve he still felt a distaste for the man, writing him off the instant he noticed him. Popular, jock, boring, basic and probably a complete asshole just like the rest of the school. He did sometimes find himself wondering how on earth he had managed to befriend Robin Buckley of all people, a grade below him and on the complete opposite side of the social spectrum. He himself knew Robin in passing and from what he had gathered she was far from the type to associate herself with the populars. That was a mystery no one could figure out. 

“Steeeeve” he said in mock excitement throwing his arms out as if he was meeting up with an old friend he hadn't seen for a while. Steve looked up, confusement painting his face as he locked eyes on the metalhead before him. Long brown wavy hair cut into a shag, ripped jeans, ratty band tee with a fading print of a metallica album, softening leather jacket and silver chains and jewelry adorning his body. They were polar opposites. “Do I know you?” he asked unamused. “Funny” Eddie sneered as he sauntered over, placing his hands on the linoleum surface. 

Eddie may not be popular but he would like to think he made himself well known as a town pariah, devils worship, selling drugs, petty criminal, trailer trash and all that. 

“What do you want?” Steve closed his comic which Eddie noticed being Albedo Anthropomorphics issue number 7 as Steve straightened up on the stool, squaring his shoulders to give Eddie his undivided attention. “You're Dustin's babysitter right?” He was intentionally getting on Harrington's nerves, because it didn't matter how annoying he was, he knew Steve would help, despite Mike and Lucas’s warnings. A fact that that was proven as he remembered Dustin ranting about the exact same comic Steve was reading. 

Unamusement turned to disgust as he glared at Eddie. 

“NoO, I am not” he corrected, the second vowel raising in pitch as if correcting a child who he was very impatient with. “Yes you are” Eddie grinned, “Anyway, I need your help” he smirked, slanting his body to the left and cocking out his hip as his firm hand on the counter supported him “And why exactly would I help you?” boredom laced Steve's words as he narrowed his eyes in annoyance. 

“Aren't you supposed to be in customer service?” he gestured towards the fact that Steve was sitting at the checkout counter in a literal store “Show me that customer service smile” his grin widened but in response all he got was a deep scowl. “Anyway” he straightened his back to watch Steve intently “It's Dustin's birthday next friday, he is under the impression that his lovely sweet mother is taking him out to dinner, but in reality he’ll be getting a surprise party” Steve couldn't help but let his scowl ease slightly “-and that's where you come in” Eddie continued as he pointed towards the video store clerk. “-we need some help planning.” 

After some convincing and some very weak pleading from Eddie, Steve gave in although making it very clear the only reason he would endure Eddie's presence was because of Dustin and Dustin alone. His shift ended at 5 pm sharp and informed Eddie he could come by at 5:30 to plan. “But you're not staying past 6:30, I don't want you in my house” he had crossed his arms, eyes staring at Eddie as he scoffed “Relax, I wouldn't want to be surrounded by your mothers ghastly interior for more than an hour at a time anyway.”

And that was where they were now, sat in Steve's kitchen, bickering about the theme of the party as they faced each other at the round table. As expected Eddie had made faint remarks about the previously mentioned interior when he entered the Harrington home, much to Steve's dismay. As Steve began going on a rant about how Eddie was in under no circumstances allowed to bring alcohol Eddie glanced out the window in boredom. But the only thing to entertain him was a round figure walking lazily down the sidewalk, back straight and arms swaying, head held high and confident, so he found his eyes drifting back in to the kitchen and was brought back to the argument at hand. “You think I'm that irresponsible that I would bring Alcohol to a birthday party for a 15 year old?” 

“Well..”

“Oh shut up” Eddie's upper lip curled in displeasure at the accusation.

Steve seemed unbothered when the door clicked and swung on its hinges in the next room over, and continued with his assignment on planning. Taking it upon himself to start writing a shopping list, not yet sure if he trusted Eddie with the responsibility of following through with getting all the things they needed or if he should take care of it himself. 

That same round figure showed up in the open doorway drawing both of the men's attention. Eddie barely got a chance to look at her, only registering her face as she leaned halfway over the threshold with a simple “Yo”. Her face looked slightly annoyed he registered, cupid's bow pulled up almost as if in disgust while a slight furrow showed between her brows. “Hey” Steve returned before she turned promptly and made her way down the hall, he heard as footsteps led her up the stairs and out of earshot. 

“Whoa trouble with the missus?” Eddie chuckled, leaning back in the fancy intricate wooden chair that matched the rest. “What? That's my sister” Steve frowned, a frown similar to yours but more deep set. “Really? You look nothing alike” he marveled, within the few seconds he laid eyes on you he could only distinguish the fact that your hair was a shade darker, and that your body was very clearly the opposite of Steves. His lean form and sleek muscles were obviously something that he had not inherited or something that ran in the family. “All siblings don't look alike you know” Steve breathed as he sat back in his chair, one leg crossing over the other to rest his ankle on his thigh. 

“Why does she look like that then?” it wasn't a comment on your body but on your expression as you appeared by the open frame, Steve had already anticipated the question, he knew it was coming the second you stepped through the door.  “I dunno, she has like a permanent frown, shes fuckin’ unapproachable, hence why she has no friends” Eddie looked surprised as Steve rolled his eyes “Well in school anyway, even if she was approachable shes too i hate everyone to even make an effort” he made bunny eared quotation marks in the air as he described your personality. “Wow, didn't know easy breezy perfect King Stevie ‘The Hair’ Harrington had a sibling so different from him, or well one at all actually” he felt a surge of annoyance at Eddie's words. “She your older sister then?” Steve only rolled his eyes again, you were clearly invisible to everyone around you .“She's a senior at your high school, shouldn't you know everyone by now? Seeing as it's your second year as one?” he felt slightly proud at his jab at the man across from him who'd been getting on his nerves all afternoon. “She is?” Eddie ignored the latter.

“Told you, she's unapproachable, sticks to herself” that was true but he couldn't help feeling slightly sad for you, even if you were in his parallel class he would have hoped at least someone would know who you were, you weren't all that different from Eddie, both weird. “She used to be in band, with Robin” he squinted his eyes slightly to gather information on whether or not Eddie knew who Robin was, he continued when he got a single nod of confirmation “But now she's in some orchestra in New Castle, so she doesn’t like stick around after school” he explained, giving Eddie another reason as to why he had never heard of you. “Her? In orchestra?” from the brief look he had gotten of you, you did not look like some nit picky orchestra person. “Yeah she plays the cello” “The cello?” Eddie asked, utterly baffled. “Yeah the-” he held his hands up by his neck, pulling an invisible bow back and forth “That's a violin man” 

“Yeah whatever” 

The conversation surrounding Steve Harrington's sister and how you were so unlike your brother died there and the topic of Dustin's party was brought up again, to the slight disappointment of Eddie.

–

“Mm?” was your answer to the knock at your bedroom door, allowing Steve to open it and peep inside, finding you propped up against your headboard, a paperback copy of In Cold Blood by Truman Capote in your hands. “I’m having some people over” he jumped straight to the point, hand resting limply on the doorknob while the other found its place on his hip “For that party planning thing I was telling you about so please don't like, play your weird loser music or that stupid viola.”

“First of all” you sat up to glare at Steve “Elvis Presley is not weird loser music, second it's a violin you dick” you scowled, the frown which Steve said you wore constantly, tightened. “Yeah yeah, just shut up for the evening ok?”

“I was done with practicing but just because of that, I think I might continue” an ill intentioned smirk formed on your lips.

“You are so fucking annoying” he breathed.

“Tell me something I don't know” you rolled your eyes, lying down and turning away from him. Even though you utterly sucked he still had to inform you “We're eating alone tonight by the way, Mom's at the country club playing golf and Dad's staying late at work” 

“Great” you answered sarcastically before Steve shut the door. 

You weren't necessarily complaining, it was a regular occurrence that Charles Harrington stayed late to handle the law firm and you would rather Sharon Harrington was far out of sight when he was. Bad blood simmered between you and your mother, her constant criticism for your behavior, style and eating habits were not something you particularly looked forward to when you came home especially in comparison to Steve who had always been mommy's perfect little boy. 

–

Eddie, Mike, Lucas, Will and Steve sat strewn across arm chairs and couches in the off white pristine living room of the Harrington residence. They had only just sat down, notebook on the ready for budget planning and fresh coca colas from the fridge in their hands when the undeniable sound of a bow slowly brushing over hard metal strings was heard throughout the house.

The second you heard Steve welcome them in on the Sunday afternoon you got up and kept your promise to continue practicing on your instrument. Steve audibly groaned below you, its volume traveling up the stairs and through your open door only egging you on further as you began playing Symphony n.5 by Beethoven moving your bow up and down the strings. 

Sure Steve had taken on his brotherly duty to play nice and explain the situation for tonight, not that it was any different from any other night, and he was on occasions friendly with you, but that didn't change the fact that he was a fucking ass to you. During your 18 years on this earth Steve had bullied you, pestered you and made your life almost as miserable as your mother did, she claimed it was Steve's way of showing love but you didn't accept that fact as true. You may have, however, if you actually knew what Steve did for you, multiple times he had gotten into fights with classmates to defend your honor, both in his childhood years up until the end of high school, only easing up when he was no longer in contact or around to hear the crude remarks about you. But, you didn't know, so you had no issue with creating a slight hell for him as he did for you. 

With each 8 beats the chord changed and you only increased in strength. “Is that Y/N?” Mike asked as he listened in on you upstairs “You knew he had a sister??” Eddie piped up, turning towards him “You have a sister?” Lucas was shocked “Of course I know he has a sister, doesn't everyone?”

“No!” 

The vigorous strumming and skillful fingerwork slowed to slower notes, slowly building as Steve started to get annoyed, rising from his comfortable seat in the armchair and preparing for battle. “She's gotten really good since I last heard her, damn” Mike awed as Steve brushed past him and out into the hallway, following the sound of shorter notes echoing throughout the house. You were clearly interrupting but Eddie couldn't help but feel amazed at the sounds, so different from the instruments he usually heard in his music or the music he listened to, a whole different genre but from what he gathered you were very good with the violin. He listened in a daze, as if your bow and strings cast him under an enchantment as Steve stormed down the hall and made a loud show of him coming up the stairs, giving you one last chance to back down. You did not. 

Eddie was torn from his enchantment as the music suddenly came to an abrupt hall. 

“Give that back you fucking asshole! That's a ten thousand dollar instrument!” 

He had ripped the fragile maple wood from your hands in anger. 

“I told you not to play it while I had people over!” 

“And I told you I dont give a shit!”

The shouting match had begun.

“Of course you don't! Because all you care about is this stupid fucking thing!”

“Because it's my life! That thing is my whole life! That is my ticket to a degree! Don’t go giving me shit because you’re too fucking stupid to even get in to community college!” you screamed but within an instant your voice softened to an insulting hiss upstairs “You couldn't even pass the PSAT’s at a respectable grade.”

“I would take having a life over whatever your sad excuse for one is anyday! Locked up in your room every waking hour studying, oh unless you're in school where you don't even have the human decency to talk to people or be in any way polite” Steve was no longer shouting but spewing words with pure venom.

“Because they’re all fucking pieces of shit! Who don’t give a flying fuck about anything other than mindless sex, popularity and LYING to themselves that this fucking Hawkins Indiana is the place to be!” he heard you scoff before an exasperated shout “LIKE YOU!”

“And if you're not at school you’re at fucking orchestra practicing for shows-” his voice became firm and short of a temperfull whisper as he interrupted your speech “-who no one ever comes to”. It seemed a shame, your playing had been amazing, from the short snippet he heard you had some intense skills, it must be wasted to play for only a few people.

Eddie couldn't have known that Steve had the urge to throw your precious violin that disturbed his peace every day of the week in to the wall, maybe even thrust it onto the ground and smash it to tiny pieces under his sock clad foot, but a part of him in the back of his mind knew that would both leave you heartbroken and that he would never come back from doing such a cruel thing to you, so instead he tossed the violin onto the soft plush of your bed before storming out with a “Fucking bitch” muttered under his breath and slamming the door behind him. Eddie heard you shout a “Sanctimonious piece of shit!” back at him and then footsteps down the stairs. 

The group scattered around the livingroom sat awkwardly as Steve emerged from the hall and back to them, they didn't know what to do or say and it was clear on their faces. Steve breathed a heavy breath before apologizing “Sorry about her and that you had to hear that” Eddie raised his brows at him as if to say Are you kidding me? Steve saw it and was quick to announce “Trust me, we’re fine, we fight all the time”

Even though you were upset you would not back down, you were quick to retrieve your violin and find its place resting atop your shoulder and under your chin. 

“She's gonna start playing again any second, she's fine” Steve sank back down into plush leather just as the music started up again. He gestured his hand up at the ceiling to prove his point. 

Eddie was experiencing a mixture of feelings, all reeling around his head as you began playing again, a new found interest for the classical genre, sadness for you who had to go through that, anger at Steve for saying such hurtful things but also surprise at how even though you had been insulted so harshly which would have left the girls he knew, granted only a few, crying, you continued playing, as if it didn't bother you. 

And it barely did bother you, Steve was right, you did fight all the time, and through years of bullying from classmates and close family you had become tough, strong, learnt to deal with feelings, push them as far down as your mind would allow you and move on. It was even the moments after the horrible fights that you had learnt to cherish, just as you did when everyone had left for the evening. Steve didn't verbally apologize but you knew he was sorry, and he showed it by becoming your friend again and ordering pizza for dinner, paying with it from his hard earned money (your parents didn't give him allowance since he got a job) and sat with you, watching soap operas on the couch. 

It was a destructive and toxic relationship, being bullied and only fighting back when no parents were around to hear it and then instantly becoming friends, but it was your destructive and toxic relationship.

[spicysix]

fake it 'till you make it | jonathan byers X reader

“It was all Nancy Wheeler's fault. I mean, literally. Quite from the beginning. Because it was all about Nancy Wheeler, wasn't it? It was all because of Nancy Wheeler, it was all for Nancy Wheeler.” or: you and Jonathan create a plan to make Nancy jealous

warnings: fake relationship, in between S1 and S2, gn! reader (no pronouns, no gendered terms, no y/n used). mostly fluff, a pinch of crack taken seriously at the beginning just because i love it, right before all the fucking feels hit in. and my already known absurd use of italics.

word count: 9.1k

a/n: based on this request, thank you so much anon. your request drove me completely insane, i had a few out of body experiences and ended up with 9k words of love and devotion to Jonathan Byers. don't worry, no Nancy hate in here, it's almost as much of a love letter to her as it is to Jonathan tbh, Reader just doesn't know better in the first paragraphs. hope y'all like it! don't forget to reblog if you do, and comments are always treasured and kept in a little golden box in my nightstand for me to delight in them on lonely nights ♡

↳ ao3

It was all Nancy Wheeler's fault.

I mean, literally. Quite from the beginning. Because it was all about Nancy Wheeler, wasn't it? It was all because of Nancy Wheeler, it was all for Nancy Wheeler.

Okay, let’s start from the top.

Jonathan has always kind of been there. He didn't say much, he didn't present himself much, he didn't get quite noticed. But he has always been there. And you had a thing for those who weren't actually seen, but that had always been there anyway.

Your interest was purely out of curiosity, though, of course. Because you wanted to understand the whole thing. Sure, you had the bigger picture — abusive, absent father, overprotective mom, young brother, and the whole heavy weight of teen parentalization on top of Johnny-boy's scrawny shoulders.

Multiply that for, like, a billion, and we get what we got after November 6th: missing young brother, over-overprotective mom, asshole opportunistic father, and the whole heavy weight of guilt on top of Johnny-boy's scrawny shoulders.

And, in the middle of all that, enters Nancy Wheeler.

Okay, wait, from the top again.

It was mid-May, and Jonathan was just there, as usual. Revealing some photos, the bigger and the smaller pictures you were so deeply curious to see. A precisely requested assignment for a History project — you really loved History, you'd put all your effort into it — and, oh wow! You were also there!

Both of you revealing your pictures, Johnathan had used that shiny new camera he showed up with after Christmas break — after Nancy Wheeler's boyfriend, Steve Harrington, broke the previous one (I mean, if the rumors were true, Johnny-boy was being kind of a creep. But apparently he apologized or whatever, because after Steve's purple eye and Will Byers' death and resuscitation thing, you've seen Johnathan, Steve, and Nancy Wheeler having lunch all together. As crazy as it all sounded).

That’s a digression, back from the top again.

You and Jonathan were sharing the silence only a red room and its buzzing little red lamp lights could provide, minding your own business. Well, he was minding his own business, you were kind of curious about the bigger and the smaller pictures. Minding his business as well.

Shoulder to shoulder as you worked on your photos, you hanging your own as Jonathan took his down from where they've been drying.

It was literally a bigger and a smaller picture, okay, I kid you not.

Jonathan seemed to get lost in his thoughts as he analyzed the bigger one, the one you've seen already — what seemed to be a reunion of sorts between the Byers and the Wheelers, parents and children, and those other two little gremlins that Will and Mike (was it Mike? Nancy’s younger brother, Will’s best friend) were inseparable friends with.

The younger ones were sitting on the floor, those huge smiles on their baby faces, happiness exhaling from, well, probably finding out that their friend that had gone missing for a week wasn't actually dead.

The parents, Joyce Byers, and Karen and What's-His-Face Wheeler were sitting on the couch behind the kids, pride and joy in the mothers' faces and boredom on the father's face — it was his permanent state, you were aware of it by now from seeing him from time to time on the streets.

Pretty, preppy, prissy Nancy was standing behind the couch, just behind her daddy, younger baby sister in her arms as she smiled that tiny little pouty smile of hers. No pretty, preppy, poshy Steve in sight, you wondered where he was, as Jonathan was standing beside Nancy and the baby, hands in his pants pockets, that perpetual blank stare in his eyes of someone being constantly haunted.

You found it cute, somehow.

Cute in, like, a curious kind of way. Wanted to find out what was haunting him so badly.

And then. In the present, real, out-of-picture time or whatever, Jonathan snapped out of his thoughts as he went to get the other picture — the smaller one — from where it was hanging. His hand stopped a single inch before touching it, and you saw from the corner of your eye that he was looking at you from the corner of his eye. Combine the peripheral vision situation with his hesitancy to grab the smaller picture, your life-long curiosity and an impulsive strike, and before you even thought about what you were doing, you were suddenly grabbing the fucking picture before Jonathan could.

You grabbed it, and he let out what sounded like a gasp and a whimper at the same time, and you walked backward until your back met the wall behind you. And Jonathan was all over you in a second, trying to grab your arms as you put them behind your back, hiding the picture — you didn't even get to see it, had no idea what he was so mortified about. He was saying, or screaming maybe, something at you that you couldn’t distinguish because his head was too close to yours. Distress all over his cute scrawny face, and you barely had the time to register the guilt bubbling in your stomach — because, fuck, why did you do that? It was a personal thing, you weren't even friends, you had talked to him like five times tops if you didn't count the whole trimester where you were basically best friends because of that Science project in freshman year.

You missed freshman year.

Anyway, there was no time to think about freshman year.

Over from the top, for real this time!

In the middle of all that, enters Nancy Wheeler.

Literally, physically enters the red room while you and Jonathan are pressed together against the wall, your arms behind your back, his arms on your arms and waist or maybe hips — you were unfocused, to be honest, by the fact that he was basically manhandling you with all his scrawny kid strength.

Well, Jonathan did win a fight over Steve Harrington, handed the School King's ass to him on a golden plate, so you shouldn't be that much surprised.

Alas, Nancy stopped at the door, her huge doe eyes getting even huger, sharp jaw going slack, long pointy fingers wrapped so tightly around the door handle that her knuckles were white.

"Oh! I- Jesus, I'm sorry! Jonathan, I-" Jonathan hadn't said a word since she entered, his whole body had gone frozen, and you were afraid he had stopped breathing altogether. "I'll come back later? I- Or, you'll come find me? I- Oh, god, I'm sorry!"

She ran off after her eloquent speech, not waiting for an answer and slamming the door behind her. Jonathan walked away from you and started murmuring something under his breath while walking in circles within the tiny space in the red room, forgetting about you and your stupid kidnapping of his picture, and finding out a new something to stress about.

You brought your arm to your front, finally looking at it and seeing what he really didn’t want you to see in the picture.

Guess who?

Nancy Fucking Wheeler.

It was on the same day as the other photo if Nancy’s clothes were to say, and she was away from the camera, her profile showing. Holding a single flower — you had no idea which one, you didn’t understand much about flowers. You knew it wasn’t a rose — in between her thin fingers, nose close to the petals, a delicate smile on her lips. She was in front of a window, the light from the outside encompassing her in a kind of godly aura, specks of dust around her, and yet she was the main focus of the whole frame.

As far as a picture could talk, this one was screaming ‘love’ so loudly it was deafening.

Something stirred in your belly, something raw and annoying and mean, but you ignored it and approached Jonathan carefully — as he was still kind of shaking, palms pressed tightly against his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, already stretching your arm to give him back his Nancy Wheeler love portrait. “Curiosity killed the cat and whatnot,” you muttered as he looked at you with anger and snatched the photo from your fingers.

“Yeah, and it’s gonna get you killed too.” His voice was restrained, his whole strength going into not yelling at you again even if his words were threatening enough. “You should go,” he commanded before remembering that his pictures were ready and yours weren’t. “I should go.”

He gathered his photos, his tools and his backpack, and you couldn’t will yourself to tear your eyes from every single movement he made, even if it was painful to watch because he was so clearly pissed at you — and rightfully so.

“If it’s any worth, she looked jealous,” you said, right before he left the red room.

Jonathan paused, door half open, his hand gripping the handle so tightly his knuckles were going white — a perfect mirror image of what Nancy looked like just a few minutes before. He didn’t turn to look at you or to answer your remark, just huffed, shook his head, and left, slamming the door behind him.

You rubbed your face, felt like tearing your hair off your head, took a few long, deep breaths before resuming your task of revealing the photos for your History Project. Buried every single feeling into your head and heart, they weren’t worthy to feel or talk about, and you had more pressing urges.

The History Project. Something about your local community, how a small town revolved around its few citizens, and you thanked every god you could come up with that Jonathan left before you revealed your last picture. Or, that you distracted Jonathan enough by prodding onto his secrets before the revealing liquid did its job and revealed the secrets you were hiding yourself.

You took the picture from the container with the revealing liquid and hung it alongside the other ones you had already put up to dry. You looked at your secret smaller picture.

Out of frame, you knew that Joyce Byers was at the cashier counter of Melvald’s, handing little Will some random candy as he looked excited at the gift. In the frame, in the picture, focused on, behind Will, was Jonathan. Also on his profile, almost the same angle as his own picture of Nancy. He was smiling softly at the sight of his family once again reunited in such an uneventful task such as grocery shopping. The natural daylight from outside the store made his skin glow, and the little crisp texture and reflexes of the not-so-clean window between you and him made the picture look somehow cozy — the opposite effect of distancing that you’d think it would give it. He was at the very center of the frame, soft brown jacket over his shoulders, hands holding plastic bags as he waited for his brother, his pink cheeks making your own face heat up — you remembered. You were infatuated with how relaxed he looked, some of that whole heavy weight finally off his scrawny shoulders; so relaxed that he didn’t even notice you from across the street, taking the picture like a fucking weirdo stalker.

And as far as a picture could talk, this one was screaming ‘love’ so loudly it was deafening.

Thankfully, your own ears were the only ones at range. And accustomed to the noise already.

-✧-

“I fucked up.”

Those were the first words you heard from Jonathan after the whole Nancy Wheeler love portrait fiasco in the red room. It was Friday already, and three whole days had passed - not that you were waiting for him to come talk to you sooner, because you never even talked before that, but something about the way you’d cross eyes in the hallways of the school made the air between you two weighted with something other than your crippling guilt.

“Come again?” you asked, setting down the Bukowski book you were pretending to read for your English class - ugh, Bukowski annoyed you.

Jonathan, for some reason, seemed annoyed at you.

‘Some reason’, okay, other than the obvious reason.

“I avoided Nancy after that day for as long as I could, but then she cornered me earlier today and I got too nervous and might have made the whole situation worst than it already was,” he answered, looking around him as if someone in the school parking lot was about to come out from behind a car and punch him in the face.

Hm, maybe Steve Harrington would.

“How did you manage that?” you asked again, crossing a leg under the other where you were sitting on the bench.

“I might have told her we, you and me, I mean, are… in a relationship.”

There was a ringing in your ear that kind of popped before the world went abruptly silent. You could see Jonathan in front of you, staring at you, waiting for your answer, but he was kind of blurry and the people walking behind him seemed to move in slow motion all of a sudden. It felt like years before you gathered just enough brain power to answer him.

“You. What.”

He groaned, and that made the world go back to normal inside your head, before he rubbed his eyes with the tip of his fingers.

“She came at me, asked who you were and if everything was okay that day, and all I could think of was you saying she had been jealous and, I don’t know, it felt like I blacked out or was possessed or something and then, out of nowhere, I was saying we were dating.”

“To make her more jealous?” you confirmed, and he shrugged violently.

“I guess!” he almost yelled, and then curled over himself in embarrassment. He hid his whole face behind the palms of his hands and you wanted to push them away, hold his cheeks yourself and-

Nope, block that thought out.

“Okay,” you said instead.

“Okay? ‘Okay’, what? Jesus, are you even more insane than I thought?”

You shrugged and pretended his words didn’t sting. “I’m saying we should go for it.” You saw his mouth opening, and spoke before whatever words were going to come out of him could hurt you further: “I can be your fake lover, you make Nancy jealous, she finds out she wants you and not Steve, dumps his ass and you and her will live happily ever after.”

Why were your impulsive thoughts making you so willingly throw yourself into a scenery that was only going to hurt you badly? You had no answer for that.

Jonathan frowned and actually seemed to consider, which was probably worse because you were pretty sure he was going to immediately deny your offer. It was a crazy fucking offer after all, who did you think you were? Molly Ringwald in a rom-com?

Well, apparently Jonathan thought he was Anthony Michael Hall, because the next thing he said was: “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Dude. You’re kidding me?” you asked, twisting your entire body to fully face him and he seemed confused. “I was being sarcastic!” You weren’t, not really, but he didn’t know that. “We can’t do that, it won’t work! Just grow out some balls and ask her out, or whatever.”

You got up and started gathering your stuff since your free period was coming to an end, but Jonathan held your wrist before you could leave, a wave of shock starting where your skins connected all the way up to your brain. You ignored it.

“I already embarrassed myself too much in front of her. Please?” he begged, those sweet eyes of his staring deeply into your soul, and you huffed.

Closed your eyes so you wouldn’t see him, pulled your arm away so he wouldn’t touch you. He had too much power over you — and he had no idea.

“You owe me one, boyfriend,” you said just in time for the bell to ring, and then you were on your way to your English class, Bukowski ignored and forgotten, Jonathan’s pleading eyes the only thing on your mind.

“So, boyfriend, how did our love story begin?” Your question startled Jonathan, who hadn’t seen your approach.

He was sitting on the bench furthest from the entry of the park, looking at every direction around him just as he was in the school parking lot earlier that day. Still scared Steve Harrington would pop out of nowhere to beat his ass in revenge a few weeks late.

Jonathan had the luck of not sharing a single class with you over the rest of the school day, so he slipped a little note into your locker at some point, like a middle schooler trying to flirt. His note, however, did not read “WANNA GO GET MILKSHAKES WITH ME? [ ] YES [ ] NO - MARK WITH AN X”, but a simple “meet me @ train station park after school, gotta plan this right” instead.

Underwhelming.

You, however, were a pro at nothing else except committing to a bit, and it had been your stupid idea after all. So you went to the damn train station park to meet him and plan your damn love story, just so the two of you could make damned Nancy Wheeler jealous.

Jonathan was jumpy and kept as much distance in between you on the bench as he could, as if he was afraid you were going to attack him and devour his flesh like a monster coming from a sci-fi horror. You buried all your thoughts and feelings for him in the deepest of corners inside your mind (you’ve been doing that a lot, lately) and tried not to take any of his skittish reactions personally.

The two of you worked nicely, considering all the circumstances, and came up with some ideas that weren’t half bad. If you stopped to think why you were even doing all that in the first place, you’d have a hysterical laughing fit, so you just pretended like you were rehearsing a school play or something.

“You… need a ride?” Jonathan asked and you thought for half a minute before denying.

Surely it would be better if the two of you spent more time together since you were supposed to be dating. But Jonathan was still acting weird — more than usual — and you really didn’t want to impose or to feel worse than you already did from all his mistreatment.

“Uh, no, house’s not that far,” you lied, it was a good walk to your home, but Jonathan seemed relieved at your answer so you felt like you picked the right one.

You suppressed the need to huff, roll your eyes and push him in annoyance or do something else a middle schooler would do.

You also suppressed the will to smile politely at him as you said your goodbyes because, frankly, he wasn’t so deserving of it.

Phone numbers were exchanged in case of emergencies or needs to plan further, and you left before he could come up with something else. You were tired, drained really, from suppressing so much the whole day, and you couldn’t wait to sleep throughout the whole weekend if you could. Hoping no ‘Jonathan Byers loves Nancy Wheeler and would do anything for her’ emergencies would come up. Building up the courage to continue your own ‘You love Jonathan Byers and would do anything for him’ stupid plan.

-✧-

From all the worldviews you had to deconstruct as you grew older — you know, like, Santa isn't real, Reagan’s not a good president no matter what your grandpa said, vegetables are good for your health, and no, U2 wasn't actually that great of a band-

Well, the hardest and also easiest mental worldview deconstruction to be made was that Nancy Wheeler was actually a nice gal.

It was easy because it happened only after your first lunch with your brand new boyfriend Jonathan, and his great best friends Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler herself.  Because it took Nancy one single lunch to win you over with all that wit, brains, charm of hers. And it was hard because, let's be honest, you've been holding a grudge over her for absolutely nothing (let’s call it nothing, okay?) for… a couple of years, now.

It happened Monday, and Jonathan was waiting for you outside your classroom right before lunch break, ready to take you to meet his friends or whatever they were. You were caught by surprise, but you were also a great improviser, and so you tucked his hands into yours (ignored his astounded demeanor and the blush in his cheeks, and that electric wave that hit you again) and let him lead you down the hallways.

You tried not to pay attention to all the looks you received. If all that had happened before November, you wouldn’t even be noticed — neither you nor Jonathan noticeable enough to gather attention from your peers. After his… well, after everything that happened to him and around him after November 6th, though, Jonathan was a little more perceived around school grounds.

Your face burned and your palms sweat with all the eyes turned on you, but you mastered the art of looking blasé all the way to the cafeteria. All the way to the table where Steve and Nancy were sitting side by side, his arm over her shoulder as they talked quietly.

“Hey,” Jonathan greeted as you reached the table, and the couple looked up at you. Steve raised an eyebrow and Nancy’s face contorted in some way before settling into a smile. Jonathan introduced you by name. “we’re dating,” he said, mostly to Steve who didn’t seem to know the news.

“Oh, wow. Cool, man. And nice to meet you,” Steve nodded at you with his million-dollar smile.

“Same,” you answered before letting go of Jonathan’s hand, sitting down and getting your sandwich from your backpack.

Jonathan sat down beside you and you could feel how stiff he was moving. You’d normally reach out and try and reassure him through physical contact if he was a friend of yours. But even though you were dating, you didn’t know if he would react nicely to that. So you kept to yourself.

“It’s nice to finally meet you properly,” Nancy called out, reaching across the table to rest her hand against your arm. Her skin was warm. “I’m sorry about… the other day.”

Steve turned to her clearly confused, and you answered before he could ask questions.

“Don’t worry about it. Hey, we have Math together, don’t we?” you asked instead, and Nancy nodded before going on a rampage about the Math teacher who was an absolute asshole.

She didn’t seem like a huge talker, but that was just one of your misconceptions about her that she went off on proving you wrong about. She seemed cold and distant, but she was actually really attentive and asked questions about you all lunch. She seemed uptight and annoying, but she was actually really funny and amusing. She seemed arrogant and presumptuous, but she was actually really down to earth and offered to help you with some English assignments in exchange for you to help her with some Math assignments.

She talked quietly and smoothly, and had witty remarks to every single comment her boyfriend made — not all of them were dumb, and not all of Nancy’s answers bordered on mean, but some of them certainly did. Steve didn’t seem to mind, though. He looked at her as if she hung the Sun all the way up in the sky. It was funny to see them side by side. They had a lot in common, physically. Top line, casual-chic clothing, elegant fabric softener smell, ironed to no faults. Sharp-edged jaws and expressive eyes, silk-smooth tongues and winning smiles, charisma all over.

That’s as far as it went, though.

Her nerdy comments went in through Steve’s left ear and out through his right. Jonathan laughed at them. Her journalistic eye caught onto little details that went unnoticed by her boyfriend. Jonathan noticed them with her. Steve smiled politely at Jonathan’s dry jokes, not always understanding them, but Nancy hid her laughs behind her wrist.

As if god was trying to show you that opposites attract, and if the devil was trying to give him a counterpoint of: no, actually, similars attract. All happening right in front of your skeptical eyes in the middle of school lunch, in between Science and PE.

Jonathan walked you to your next class after it was all over, and you were overwhelmed with how much you enjoyed Nancy Wheeler’s company. Which made it all extra difficult, since now you understood Jonathan’s infatuation with her.

“See you later,” he said his goodbye at the gym entrance.

A group of people walked past the two of you and Jonathan thought it was a good idea to land a kiss on your cheek. Your breath hitched and you didn’t have the time to say goodbye back before Jonathan was walking to the main building, to his own class.

Your cheek burned the whole day, and so did the hand you used to hold his through the hallways, and your heart ached with the thoughts on your mind of how much Jonathan and Nancy seemed meant to be, and how much you wish they weren’t.

-✧-

It was two whole weeks of that. Two whole weeks walking hand-in-hand with Jonathan and sitting with him, Nancy, and Steve at lunch. And sitting beside Nancy at the Math classes you shared, because she invited you to and you couldn’t say no.

And there was something about the three of them, something weird that they seemed to have in common. When they’d reminisce over something that happened around the time Will went missing, and they would stop and look at you mid-sentence sometimes, and one of them would suddenly change the subject.

You were curious, of course, it was part of your nature to be exceedingly curious at all times.

But they all seemed to hate to talk about it, even if they brought it up from time to time, and you seemed to recognize that constantly haunted look of Jonathan in his friends’ faces as well, and the look wasn’t as cute anymore.

So you didn’t pry.

Somewhere between the end of May and the beginning of June, Nancy and Steve asked you and Jonathan to go out with them on a double date, as if reading your mind for what could possibly be your worst nightmare, but again you couldn’t say no.

You might have picked your best outfit, and you might have done your hair more carefully than you usually did, and you might have put on an extra ring or necklace. And your parents might have noticed, and you might have lied and said you were going to a colleague’s birthday party and not on a double date to the movies and a restaurant with your weird fake boyfriend and his weird preppy friends.

Jonathan picked you up at seven sharp in his old Ford and he didn’t seem much different than usual outfit-wise, but he was definitely using cologne.

“You look nice,” he said as you entered the car and you tried not to swoon at the crumbs of his attention.

“You smell nice,” you answered, and it pleased you enough to see that blush of his creeping up his neck and cheeks.

Steve and Nancy were already there waiting under the marquee. Jonathan parked and the two of you left the car and went on your way to meet the other couple. Nancy greeted you with a tight hug. You wanted to throw yourself into oncoming traffic just as much as you wanted to stay in the unusual embrace for a long time.

“This is where your boyfriend gave me a taste of his amazing right hook,” Steve said to you, pointing at the little alley by the theater.

“Steve!” Nancy reprimanded, but it seemed like she was holding back a smile.

“What was all that about, anyway?” you asked, giving into your curiosity, eager for the whole story now that you could finally have it.

You forgot that dating Jonathan should probably mean that you’d know what it was all about already. He would’ve told the person he was dating, right? Thankfully no one seemed to notice your little slip.

“Jonathan was a bit of a creep, I was a huge of an asshole and Nancy sadly got caught in between us,” Steve answered honestly. “We’re all good now, though, aren’t we? All in the past.” He smiled at the other two, who nodded along and smiled back.

Jonathan and Nancy’s smiles didn’t seem as sincere as Steve’s. And that didn’t feel like the actual whole story, but again you didn’t pry because they were getting that weird haunted look.

Steve threw his arm over Nancy’s shoulder. “Let’s get some popcorn, my treat,” he said and started walking into the theater. Jonathan touched your lower back, guiding you, and you held back a sigh.

You were in for a long evening.

Indiana Jones conquered the Temple Of Doom, or whatever. You didn’t pay much attention, it was hard to with Jonathan’s arm draped over your shoulder the whole time and the whispered little comments he would make with Nancy — instead of you — through the film.

You went to a restaurant after, Nancy’s choice, not too far from the theater so you all walked there. Hand in hand again. Nancy and Steve behind you, talking about the movie. Jonathan tried to rile up a conversation about it with you — finally — but, as you hadn’t paid much attention, you didn’t have a lot to say.

Food was good and thankfully the topic of conversation wasn’t the movie, because you couldn’t pretend to have paid attention to it in front of the three of them at the same time. Instead, you talked about your summer plans. Well, mostly Steve’s summer plans, he was going on vacation with his parents, somewhere on the East Coast, maybe Hawaii? Nancy was just going to see her grandma for a couple of weeks up in Chicago. Your parents weren’t fans of travels, and Jonathan was… well, the guy was poor. So Steve’s plans were the most thrilling ones.

“Too bad your parents won’t wanna travel, you could have the house to yourselves,” Steve said with a smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

You laughed loudly — mostly nervously — and Jonathan blushed. It was your usual responses at this point.

“Sure, yeah,” you said, if only not to leave a weird silence up, before looking at your wristwatch. “They’re very strict anyway, and look at that! I gotta be home soon,” you continued, and Jonathan coughed to hide a laugh.

“We should ask for the check,” he said and raised his hand to get the waiter’s attention.

That weird conversation was over, finally, and you paid for the dinner individually. By the grace of gods Steve didn’t comment on Jonathan not paying for you, since he paid for his own girlfriend, but he sure eyed you curiously as you handed your money.

“This was so nice, we should do it more often!” Nancy commented on your way back to the cars, her arm intertwined with yours as Steve and Jonathan steered behind. “It feels nice to have a normal friend after-” she stopped herself and her eyes widened, and she gulped loudly and didn’t finish her sentence.

You remembered Barb Holland, and her great English essays and her amazing grades in History, and her suspicious disappearance near Will’s back in November. How she supposedly ran away from home. How she didn’t seem at all like the type to do that.

Nancy was looking guilty and haunted, that look the three of them shared, and your curiosity was turning into apprehension of knowing what had happened. She let go of your arm, and she never finished her sentence. The boys also went quiet behind you. There was a weighted tension on top of the four of you.

You reached Steve’s bimmer and he touched Nancy’s arm to lead her to the passenger side, and she was still in a kind of haze as she waved goodbye from the window. Steve seemed worried, and so did Jonathan, but none of them said anything. And neither did you.

Jonathan took you home, one of his hipster band’s tape on the sound system, the stars out brightly and the most awkward of silences between the two of you.

There was no one out in your street to see you as he parked in your driveway, but he kissed your cheek goodbye all the same. And you held him tightly in a hug, wanting to comfort him even though you had no idea what haunted him. Crippling curiosity equal to a crippling fear, wishing for the truth and wishing to never having to find out the truth.

-✧-

You had two final weeks of school before Summer and the great excuse of having to finish your essays and projects to hide in the library and not have to talk to the trio that confused you more and more every day.

But still, sometimes Nancy would stop by and study with you. Always helpful, and kind, and nice. You never talked about that night. Sometimes she’d bring Steve with her, and she’d tutor him and they didn’t bother you, and it felt good to have the company.

Sometimes Jonathan would stop by. He’d bring you lunch, he’d bring you books, he’d bring you comfort. The warmth of his presence was addictive, reminding you of late freshman year and the Science project you built together. And you dreaded the day this would all end, he’d forget about you with Nancy Wheeler in his arms, and you’d be nothing but an embarrassing and funny story to maybe tell their grandkids.

You were able to escape them one single day, to retake your final picture for that History collage, the one you used to replace Jonathan’s love portrait. As the class to present the projects came up, you shared a knowing look with him when you noticed he also replaced Nancy’s love portrait on his own collage. A secret between you, him, and little red lamp lights. A secret neither of you talked about. Those were starting to grow.

“How cute that you two have so much in common, you even chose the same format for your projects! I love collages,” one of your colleagues said to you after class was over.

Jonathan was waiting beside your table for you to gather your stuff, and you felt your knees weaken at the way he smiled from the compliment, none of that blush anymore, a pinch of almost confidence. You couldn’t know if you loved it or hated it.

“Mine doesn’t look as good, though,” he answered, pointing at your pictures as if he wasn’t the professional photographer, and you weren’t just someone with a hobby.

“You’re both adorable,” the colleague said before leaving, Jonathan thanked her all nonchalant as if used to it by now.

And you couldn’t come up with any words throughout the whole conversation, your throat constricted with the need to tell her to shut up and tell Jonathan how you felt for him, beg him to let you go. It wasn’t fun anymore.

He didn’t let you scurry away to the library, no more excuses to do so since the History project was the last one, and he held your hand through the hallways, and he held your bag for you, and he sat so close to you at the table bench, while Nancy ranted on about her Spanish essay, that you could feel the heat of his thigh pressed against yours, but his eyes never left Nancy’s as she spoke.

It felt as if there was an elephant at each of your shoulders, and you couldn’t stop staring at him, and he didn’t spare a single glance your way even as his arm was almost glued to yours with the heat and the sweat and the stickiness of early Summer. Your heart tight in your chest, beating fast and loud and strong against your ribcage, as if begging to be let out, to go rest on Jonathan’s hands where it belonged.

-✧-

Summer came, and you stayed home. Not many friends to go out with, not many party invitations in your mailbox, no one else to see on a day-to-day basis except your parents. They asked about Jonathan once, because they saw him picking you up and bringing you back on that double date you had with Nancy and Steve. You said he was probably traveling, that you weren’t so close, you didn’t know, and they knew better not to ask again.

It was August already, a whole long month of Summer break where you’d missed him every day, missed his sweet smile, the way his blush would start by his neck and go up until it reached his cheeks, missed his calm and soothing tone of voice, missed the way he’d smell of pancakes and mint shampoo in the mornings.

Didn’t miss the way he would look at her.

But you missed her too, though. You missed Nancy’s company, and her sweet smile and her calm and soothing tone of voice. You even missed Steve and the way he’d compare everything to a basketball game, and how he high-fived you when Nancy quizzed him on the library and he’d get an answer right. In the weirdest turn of events, they became your friends. And you missed your friends.

Your body seemed to know how your brain thought and your heart ached, because when your father asked you to get groceries, your feet automatically walked further than needed and took you to Melvald’s on Main instead of the market near your house.

And of course he was there.

You knew he’d be there. He told you (and Nancy, and Steve, during that double date) he’d be taking a summer job with his mom, was dreading the tasks already but he could use the money.

He was stocking, standing in the cereal aisle seeming a little confused about where to put the Honeycomb and the Fruit Loops. And that same natural daylight from the outside reached him and made his skin glow, and there were no dirty windows between you two as you reached him without even noticing you had been walking towards him.

“Hey,” you called out, and he turned to you and smiled weirdly wide.

“Hi. Long time no see. How’s your summer?” he asked, putting down the cereal boxes.

You shrugged. “Nothing exciting. How’s Melvald’s treating you?”

“It’s not so hard. Not a big place,” he shrugged as well, and he was still smiling and he was taller than you so the sunlight behind you was hitting his eyes just right and your heart thumped.

“You’ve seen Nancy?” you asked because you liked to suffer, you’ve come to know. “She’s back from Chicago already?”

“Oh, I think she is. Will went to Mike’s yesterday, but I haven’t seen her, no.”

“Don’t you want to?” you pressed, because you weren’t suffering enough, apparently. He shot you a comically puzzled look before shrugging and smiling again.

“I guess? No more than I wanted to see you, though. Or, like, Steve, for that matter,” he answered and you huffed.

“Sure. Anyway, where’s the pasta sauce in here?” you changed the subject and he pointed towards a specific place.

You started walking without saying anything further and, to your surprise, he followed you.

“What, you didn’t miss me back?” he was teasing you, and it would’ve thrilled you just a few months ago how close you got to each other, and you would’ve reveled in any kind of attention he’d paid to you, but you just wanted to scream because it wasn’t fun anymore. It was painful.

You didn’t answer, because you wanted to tell him the truth, and tell him that yeah, you’ve missed him so much it ached, you’ve missed him so much you cried yourself to sleep once, you missed him so much and you couldn’t have him, he wasn’t yours, but you were his even if he didn’t know. Even if his eyes were never focused on you as yours were focused on him.

“C’mon, don’t go breaking my heart,” he teased again and you stopped abruptly right in front of the tomato sauce stand.

“Jonathan, please don’t do this,” you asked, voice wavering, and his smile dropped instantly at the sound of it.

“I’m sorry. What is it?” he asked earnestly, really had no idea, and you didn’t have it in you to be patient enough to spell it out for him.

“How long do we have to keep this up for?” you pleaded, turning to look at him. Your heart ached, your eyes burned, how could he not see it? How could he not see you? “We can just call it off now, yeah? We haven’t seen them yet, don’t even know if Steve’s back already, we can just say it happened over summer when they weren’t here.”

“What are you talking about?” he pushed the knife in deeper, your hands were shaking, you were almost begging for him to look at you, to see right through you so you wouldn’t have to say it out loud.

“Really, dude?” you asked loudly, saw his mom looking up from a magazine at the cashier counter to look at the two of you. “Our fake relationship thing? That amazing fucking plan of ours? It’s clearly not heading anywhere, Nancy and Steve are still together and she’s actually become my friend so it sucks to be in this position.” You gestured around you as if your mentioned friends would pop out of nowhere to your surprise. You were still loud, and you didn’t care. “Just do as I said that day, grow out some balls, and tell her the truth.”

Rich advice, coming from you.

Do as you say, don’t do as you do, or whatever.

You didn’t wait for an answer and forgot about the fucking sauce, and just started walking towards the store entrance so you could let all of this go and never have to deal with the ‘Jonathan Byers loves Nancy Wheeler and would do anything for her’ fiasco.

Joyce — Jonathan’s fucking mom, for Christ’s sake — called out to you as you stormed out of Melvald’s, you didn’t even know she knew your name, but you didn’t stop anyway. Not until there was a warm hand holding your arm, and you knew that hand by now, all its softness and its calluses, bends and curves and dents, and your heart was already broken but it somehow hurt and bled even more.

“Dude, please!” you begged again, and he was looking at you, searching for something in your eyes and yet he still couldn’t see it. Couldn’t see you.

“I’m sorry, what did I do? What can I do?”

“There’s nothing you can do, I think, just leave me alone,” you answered, and he let go of you and he seemed hurt by your words.

You walked back to your house and apologized to your dad for not bringing back his groceries, and he didn’t ask why when he saw your wet eyes. He made you tea, patted you on the head and you cried yourself to sleep again.

-✧-

“A friend of yours is here,” your mom said as you left the shower, three whole days after your (fight? Was it a fight?) encounter with Jonathan. “Waiting in your room,” she said.

It should have confused you, made you wonder. But it didn’t. You knew it was him. Who else would it be?

It was Nancy Wheeler.

Sitting on your bed, and her hair was shorter and her cheeks were a darker shade of pink than they were when you last saw her on the last day of school before Summer break.

“Hi?” you said or asked, and she smiled when she saw you were there.

Got up and walked towards you and hugged you tightly, you missed that hug, and her freshly cut hair smelled of something floral.

She pulled you by your hand until you two were sitting in your bed, side by side.

“I broke up with Steve. Jonathan told me everything,” she said, and your tiny broken heart still had some strength in it to break even further, shockingly.

“Uh, good for you, I guess?” You shrugged, not sure what she wanted you to say. “When’s the wedding?” you clouded your pain with humor because, when didn’t you?

“I just said I broke up with Steve, what wedding?”

“Yours and Jonathan’s?” Why were they so difficult? Oblivious. Why did they enjoy torturing you?

“No, listen,” she called your name as if you weren’t paying attention. “Jonathan told me everything. The whole deal, the whole plan, the whole picture, everything.”

It was a funny déjà-vu. There was a ringing in your ear that kind of popped before the world went abruptly silent. You could see Nancy in front of you, staring at you with a weird misplaced smile, waiting for your answer — what did she want you to answer, honestly? — but she was kind of blurry. It felt like years before you gathered just enough brain power to answer her.

“He. What.”

She giggled, and that made the world go back to normal inside your head, before she rolled her eyes with amusement.

“You two are so dense,” she said, still smiling. “I had to spell it out for him, and I kinda saw it coming, but not from you.”

“Nancy, for the love of all things holy, what are you talking about?” You held her hands in yours, and she looked at your hands held together for a second before looking into your eyes again to talk.

“You’re in love with him,” she answered, and you weren’t surprised that she knew.

“Fucking duh, he’s the only one who can’t see it.” She laughed, and her eyes twinkled.

“And he’s in love with you,” she completed, and it wasn’t funny anymore.

“No, he’s not.”

“You’re the only one who can’t see it,” she threw back at you and you rolled your eyes at her wit — you loved it so much.

“Nancy, he likes you. Literally how we got here in the first place.” You gestured around you as if she could see how miserable you’ve been lately without him, and without your study sessions and your lunches together as a group. “If not to get with him, why did you break up with Steve?” you asked.

“There is… a lot that held us together. Not just Steve and me, but us and Jonathan as well. And I was just using Steve as a crutch, trying to pretend everything was fine and normal, but it isn’t, and it isn’t fair to either of us. And I noticed all that thanks to you being my friend.”

You remembered the date — again — and the way Nancy recoiled to herself at the end of it, and your friends’ collective haunted guilty look, and Will Byers and how he came back, and Barb Holland and how she did not.

“Jonathan came to my house to talk, we got a little lost in the middle of it all but he knocked some sense into me, and I like to think I’ve knocked some sense into him back,” she said, and she was still so calm and collected, but she felt lighter somehow, and she never stopped smiling sweetly at you. “You should go check.”

It was all Nancy Wheeler's fault.

I mean, literally. Quite from the beginning. Because it was all about Nancy Wheeler, wasn't it? It was all because of Nancy Wheeler, it was all for Nancy Wheeler.

She convinced you to go talk to Jonathan, and at this point you trusted her so freely that you did just that. She convinced you to give him a chance, and you convinced yourself you were doing it because she asked you to, you were doing it for her and not for yourself or Jonathan. She was a very persuasive little lady, you’ve come to find out.

The street where the Byers lived was weird as fuck, and the forest surrounding it gave you the worst chills ever, but you kept your calm as you rode your bike all the way to the Byers’ front yard.

You knocked, and Jonathan answered. He seemed surprised to see you, and that blush of his creeped up from his neck to his cheeks and you fell for him again just then.

“Hi,” he said, still staring.

“Hi. Can we talk?” He shook his head, came back to himself, and opened the door to let you in. “Where’s your family?”

“Mom’s still at Melvald’s, Will’s at Mike’s,” he answered, and started going down the hallway, so you followed him.

His room looked, felt and smelled like him and it was both comforting and distressing to be surrounded by Jonathan in all senses. You were still scared of how this conversation would go.

He went digging through some stuff in his desk, and when he found it he walked closer to you where you were still standing awkwardly by the door. He handed you something, a picture.

“You called it ‘Nancy Wheeler love portrait’, that day at the train station park,” he said while you observed again Nancy’s profile in the photo. You had it memorized at this point, burned to the back of your eyelids. “It really was,” he continued and you shot him a puzzled look. “It was a love portrait, it was love I guess.”

He shrugged, and only then you noticed he was holding something behind his back. He moved his hand, brought it forward and you saw that it was another picture but you couldn’t see what it was about. He smiled down adoringly at it before handing it to you.

It was you.

A photo taken of your profile. You were sitting at a desk at the school library, in front of a window, the light from the outside encompassing you in a kind of godly aura, specks of dust flying around you and a big smile on your lips as you looked down at your hands resting on top of the table.

It was so similar. It was the same angle, the same lightning, the same pose. And yet it was so different from the Nancy Wheeler love portrait.

“Your own love portrait,” Jonathan said, voice almost a whisper, and you wanted to look at him and check if he was blushing the way his voice made it seem like he was, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the photo. “Steve and Nancy are out of frame, you were laughing at something he just said, so relaxed and happy around our friends you didn’t even notice me taking the picture like a weirdo.”

He softly touched your hand that was holding the picture, just the tips of his fingers, and they were enough to ignite a spark that made your whole body burn. You stared at that contact of your skins for the very few seconds they lasted before Jonathan pulled his arm back and continued talking.

“I got a little lost in the middle of it all, I think. Forgot there was a plan. Forgot why it all began. Forgot about Nancy, and all I could think about was you. How I wanted to see you again day after day, and hold your hand through the hallways on our way to lunch, and sit beside you at the cafeteria table. And take you on dates without Steve’s stupid comments, just you and me, and you’d laugh at my jokes ‘cause you always do. And to take more pictures of you. Take pictures with you. Just, do stuff together. All the time.

And I was so scared that you’d notice that change in me, notice how far gone for you I was. I didn’t want to spend time apart but I also couldn’t even look at you without wanting to kiss you so bad. I’d be glued to you at all times, hurt from wanting you so much, and yet I couldn’t let you go. Didn’t want to ask you to let me go.”

You finally looked at him and, yes, he was blushing. But he was so determined, so confident. You decided you loved it.

“Me and Nancy, we… got a past. Not even romantic, but, we’ve been through a lot and I’ll tell you all about it, but. I think you’ve always been there, ever since that Science project freshman year, you’ve been there on the sidelines, and when we started talking again because of our stupid plan, I realized how much I’ve missed you. And I didn’t care about the plan anymore, and I didn’t want it to end because I just wanted it to be real.”

It was unbelievable how much you recognized those words, as if you were saying them yourself. You couldn’t help but smile, and Jonathan smiled back at you, and you wanted to kiss his smile senseless.

So you did just that.

You held the pictures far from your bodies, because you didn’t want to damage them, and you threw your other arm around his neck. He hugged your waist close to him and you kissed his smile, and he kissed your smile back. He tasted of pancakes and maple syrup and coffee with cream no sugar, and you feasted on that meal as if it was your last. You let your fingers wander through his hair, and it was soft and it smelled of mint shampoo, and your senses were overwhelmed, surrounded by Jonathan in all senses and it felt like dying and going to heaven.

You kissed for a long time before your lungs ran out of air, and your lips separated but your foreheads were still touching. You handed the pictures back to Jonathan, and he took them with a confused expression. You fished something out of your back pocket, your wallet, and you fished something out of your wallet, a picture. You handed that to him too.

“Jonathan Byers love portrait,” you both said at the same time and laughed together.

You kept your picture of him and he kept your picture of you, and you held onto his face that was still blushing and warm and soft, and he kissed you for a long time. And the plan didn’t work out, not really, but it kinda did, and it was all Nancy Wheeler’s fault.

[thorfemmes]

I knocking again with request! It just popped in my head as iron clothes 🤣 if its ok. Eddie with his S/O and the hellfire boys. They didnt know eddie had a lover at school and they overheard him being mean to them, alarmingly threatening and the boys are no way eddie is intimidating and scary looking but he isnt actually that.. maybe they had to intervene and its a misunderstanding and its revealed s/o is a theater kid ask for help running lines something like that? I read somewhere that they used a theater room for hellfire and with his reputation someone mustve backed him up or vouch for him to use the facilities right?😉 Sorry did that made sense? Its practically 1 am here 🤣 thanks! Its kinda hilarious to me that whole scenario.

I love you, thank you for all the requests! This one was right up my alley since one of my majors is in theatre. I hope you enjoy!<3

BTW the play used in this drabble is Ubu Roi by Alfred Jarry. It's wild.

Eddie was a very theatrical person. Not just in his hyperactive gestures and storytelling abilities, but actually theatric. What the Hellfire boys thought was Eddie's free period was actually an advanced acting/play literacy class. He was secretly the teacher's favorite, how else would he have gotten permission to use the drama room and props for his DND campaigns?

Having climbed his way up through the intermediate and advanced classes, he got to know you pretty well. As excellent actor and a very outspoken and opinionated play lover, the two of you bonded quickly over your flair for the dramatic.

The boys didn't know about Eddie's theatre class, and in turn really didn't know about the close relationship the two of you cherished. So when they came across the two of you violently yelling at each other, they were concerned to say the least.

"Shit!" Eddie yelled.

"Oh it's fine, what a pig you are". You scoffed angrily at him.

The boys looked on in curiosity, but also worried as they'd never seen Eddie so angry at someone they didn't know.

"Watch out, I don't kill you, " Eddie continued.

"It isn’t me you ought to kill, it’s someone else".

"Now by my green candle, I don’t understand!"

The Hellfire boys watch you go back and forth with this utter violent gibberish.

"Now by my green candle, shit!" Eddie monologued. "Madam, certainly yes, I’m content. I could be content with less. After all, I’m Captain of Dragoons, Privy Councillor to King Wenceslas, Knight of the Red Eagle of Poland, and formerly King of Aragon. What more do you want?"

They continued to spy on you from around the corner until you spoke a worrisome line.

"What prevents you from slaughtering the whole family and putting yourself in their place?"

Gareth cut in at this point. "Woah, what the fuck is going on here? Is everything okay?"

Eddie visibly blanched knowing he'd been caught.

"Oh, hi! You must be one of Eddie's friends!" You said sweetly breaking character. You stuck your hand out. "I'm Y/N!"

"Gareth, this is Jeff, Dustin, and Mike," He introduced each boy down the line. "So what exactly is going on here?

You looked to Eddie for guidance, not knowing how he wanted to go about this.

"So my merry men, I've been hiding something from you. My free periods have actually been dedicated to an acting and play analysis class. Y/N here is my scene partner". You nudged him softly. "And my romantic partner. We were just rehearsing this absolute garbage play for our next assignment. Nothing violent is happening, promise".

"It's not garbage! It's absurdist and a precursor to Dadaism, which is one of your favorite movements in theatre history!'

"Daddyism?" Dustin spoke up confused.

"Dadaism, or Dada for short," You corrected him gently. "It's a movement that emphasized the process of collective trauma after World War I. It really tried to expand the boundaries on what theatre-".

Eddie just looked at you with what might as well have been hearts in eyes. The boys of course had no idea what you were talking about, but seeing Eddie's enamored stares was enough for them to keep their mouths shut.

"I think Eddie really likes it because at first glance it seems absurd and whimsical and just straight funny, but when you dive deeper into analysis you can really see the trauma buried within the subtext".

"Right you are, pretty girl". Eddie wrapped his arms around your shoulder. "Now, any other questions or can we get back to rehearsing?"

"We're definitely discussing this later, but we'll leave you to it. Have fun kids," Dustin said with a wave.

With the boys gone Eddie turned and quickly laid a few kisses to your face. Kiss, kiss, kiss until he landed on your lips.

"C’mon superstar, we've gotta keep rehearsing for next period".

[mercymermaid]

so

i think it's time for my fnaf movie rant

HUGE HUGE HUGE HUGE SPOILERS (obviously)

these are in no particular order and are just a conglomeration of thoughts that i wrote down immediately after watching so they don't make any sense half the time, and don't include theories i've seen recently

enjoy

- THE MATPAT CAMEO??? THE THEORY LINE???? HOLY FUCKING SHIT. THE THEATER SCREAMED.

- why did golden freddy pull a sans w the blue eye what happened to the white smh

- DUDE. I CALLED THE 'VANESSA AS AFTON'S DAUGHTER' HALFWAY THROUGH THE FUCKING MOVIE

- THE SECOND SHE EXPLAINED THAG SHE KNEW WHAT WAS GOING ON AND THAT SHE WOULDNT BE ABLE TO HELP, IT WAS OBVIOUS.

- because mike explained that their dad was gone, right? and afton clearly recognized the schmidt name. due to this, i originally thought that maybe schmidt was some code name and that only the aftons could recognize it, but now i have a theory

- the families are switched somehow. Vanessa is either a stand-in for Charlie or herself, which makes no sense story-wise

- however, Mike, Abby, and Garrett are clearly afton children. Mike is Mike (and in the games, Mike apparently uses Schmidt anyway to investigate his dad), Abby can bring lengthened to Elizabeth, and the crying child doesn't even canonically have a name 💀

- so i was thinking what if the families were eswitched? vanessa was some sort of charlie stand-in, with afton as her dad, while the schmidts were raised by Henry

- this would explain why he recognized schmidt and offered the job at Freddy's - he'd already killed Garrett, so he wanted to finish off the collection. Mayne this could be a parallel to him killing Charlie, but since there's three kids, he needs to get them all??? idfk

- ONE OF THE GUYS BREAKING IN HAD A MIDNIGHT MOTORISTS T-SJIRT (the guy who got killed by the cupcake)

- i am soglad i went with who I did because i doubt any of my other friends would understand any of it 😭

- THEY PLAYED LIVING TOMBSTONE AT THE END. YES. THANK YOU. THAT IS ALL WE EVER NEEDED IN LIFE.

- the balloon boy bit 😭 i doubt anyone not in the fandom would appreciate it as well as we did smh

- ugh i wish mark had his cameo but iron lung is important too ig

- THE WAY THE AUDIENCE SCREAMED WHEN AFTON TOOK OFF HIS MASK BRAHAHHDHCJC

- WE WERE ALL WAITIJG FOR IT

- we probably won't get to see a "WAS THAT THE BITE OF '87" moment because garrett got kidnapped instead of chomped smh

- BUT. THEY KEPT THE GUILT. IN THE GAMES, MICHAEL SHOVED CC INTO FREDBEAR'S MOUTH. IN THE MOVIE, HE WASNT PAYING ATTENTION, WHICH CAUSED HIS BROTHER TO GET KIDNAPPED. OH THE FUCKING PARALLELS DUUUUDE

- also max getting bit in half is probably all we're gonna get of The Bite

- MATTHEW LILLARD FUCKING ATE. HE KNEW THE ASSIGNMENT. BEST AFTON.

- only issue is the lack of screaming during the springlocking. only your stomach is getting stabbed, not your throat yet. Scream.

- it would've been so funny if he pulled the "MICHAELLL DONT LEAVE ME HERE MICHAEL MICHAEL" while he was being dragged away but homie was too busy dying

- HE SAID THE LINE. "I ALWAYS COME BACK." OH MY GOD.

- NOBODY EXPECTSD VANESSA TO GET STABBED. THE THEATER GASPED.

- "IT'S ME" ON THE MIRROR DBSJAJXJXJXJDJ

- stop bonnie and chica staring down the camera while they release the cupcake is so funny 😭

- MORE ON THE FAMILY SWITCH. ABBY IS ELIZABETH, OBVIOUSLY, WHICH IS ONLY MADE MORE TRUE BC CHICA TRIES TO SHOVE HER INTO THAT DOLL-LOOKING THING. YOU KNOW WHAT IT RESEMBLES? SCRAP BABY. MY FIRST THOUGHT ABOUT THAT SUIT WAS "dude is that scrap baby?"

- the lack of a mrs. afton is so real 🤩🤩

- dude the entire fort scene was actually so fucking hilario

us

- like bonnie just. falling backwards. is so him yk

- BUT GOLDEN FREDDY. THERES THE KID. WHERE'S CASSIDY? IS GARRETT ALSO POSSESSING GOLDEN FREDDY IF HE'S THE PARALLEL FOR CC? WHAT ABOUT VANESSA? 

- the issue with the family swap is that Vanessa just doesn't fit in. we can't play it off as a parallel to Charlie, because vanessa is already an established character with a connection to afton.  fuck you Scott.

- SPEAKING OF. SCOTT KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING. HE CATERED TO US LIKE A FUCKING ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT BUFFET. THE INSIDE REFERENCES AND EASTER EGGS?! THE MATPAT CAMEO??? THE LIVONG TOMBSTONE?!?!?! 

- a bit upset they didn't keep Freddy's flashing face sequence smh

- THE SPRINGLOCKING WAS SO GOOD BC THEY LEFT HIM IN THE EXACT SAME POSITION AS CANON. ALSO IT WAS GOLDEN FREDDY WHO FINALLY LEFT HIM THERE, WHICH IS A HIT AT THE WHOLE "GOLDEN FREDDY HATES AFTON THE MOST" (cough cough ultimate custom night)

- they kept in the red eyes in some parts but im very glad they weren't in the rest. they looked fucking high. what happened to the black with white?? THAT WOULDVE BEEN TEN TIMES SCARIER AND APPEALED TO CANON, WHATS THE WITH THE CHANGE MAN 😭

- bonnie never got his eyebrows

- cupcake slayed and ate (literally!!!!)

- im actually super curious why half of spring bonnie is so damaged. now, it could go with the whole "this place hasn't been touched in forever, yadda yadda, destroyed suit makes it more sensitive and easy to set off" but. it's only one half of it. there could be a perfectly plausible explanation of "Oh yeah, only half of it was exposed to bad stuff, other half was covered with a tarp" ITS FIVE NIGHTS AT FREDDY'S. ITS NEVER THAT SIMPLE. HAVE WE LEARNED NOTHING? also a bit curious about whether movie afton already got springlocked once like book afton did (has game afton getting springlocked previously been confirmed? please lmk)

- i really love how they used the "the robots are just children" because they love abby and just want to play and shit and they're so sweet but they're so easily manipulatable 

like

afton probably didn't have to do much besides show the pictures and convince them he was good

and all it took for them to turn on him was abby drawing a second picture

what if she convinced them vanessa was bad or some shit? they are really fucking gullible.

- also what the fuck was that freddy head saw blade monstrosity??!! what 😭 

- like it never ends up being explained and it's not a stand-in for springlocks or being shoved into suits because those are very very much there

- literally the second i heart matpat's voice my heart went oop 

- it took a second for everyone to register it but we went WILD

- AND HE DROPPED THE "BUT THATS JUST A THEORY"

- HE'S SO SILLY

- FOOD THEORY IS SO REAL THO 😭

- no bc a markiplier cameo would be so great but imagine if they used his reaction thing

- like they got him to film "WAS THAT THE BITE OF '87" as max gets bitten, and he appears in the corner for that one line

- even better, not reaction camera style, just standing there right next to her and then never being mentioned again

- either that or him popping up on the cameras (again, either as a reaction image, or standing there menacingly)

- THEY HAD SPARKY

- also why DID vanessa keep Mike in the dark abt afton (not calling him her dad, not stooping that low) and him trying to kill Abby? fear of authorities getting involved? this is bumfuck nowhere Utah, she is the fucking authority, and considering what his aunt said, a police officer defending her dad against some random guy isn't gonna go well for him

- like sure she told him to not bring abby but she didn't tell him why of course it's not gonna go well

- about the family swap. it's so easy to tell the scmidts are supposed to be a version of the afton kids, why the fuck did they name him GARRETT?

- I love the whole references to phone guy

Would've loved to see actual phone guy (imagine if THAT was matpat's cameo)(coughs in fnaf the musical) but afton is good enough

but abby's "hello" while exploring Freddy's sounds so much lime balloon boy wtf

- abby is a monogram (or whatever it's called) for baby which might not have that much symbolism bc abby is short for Elizabeth but the more the merrier yk

- i think i answered my own question abt whether movie afton has been springlocked

considering how he fuckign SPRINTED at michael and made all these moves like kicking and shit? yeah, I'm more surprised it took him so long to get springlocked

same with game afton actually like.. hello? stop laughing at the fucking dead kids in such a damp room, it's your own fault dumbass

Basically book afton was the smartest about wearing the suit bc of experience

- THE WAY CARL LAUNCHED ITSELF AT MICHAEL WILL NEVER NOT BE FUNNY LIKE BRO FUCKING ASCENDED 😭

- my friend is complaining abt how flirty Vanessa is w Michael which is really funny for no reaskn

- MY FRIEND INSULTED FOXY'S "dum dum dum" SAYING HES NOT CUT OUT FOR MUSIC. HELLO?!?!?@?@?@?@@

- as my friend mentioned, springlock scene was kinda anticlimactic lmao like where's the screaming? the blood?

- according to the same friend mentioned three times already:

Best parts of the movie

1. Matpat saying "that's just a theory"

2. Living tombstone credits

3. Vanessa getting stabbed

- the sounds at the end spell out "come find me" so wooohooo sequel time?? :))

- the "i always come back" was NOT it 😭 at least he said it yk

- okay someone pointed out that it was his last words so they were desperate and mad and showcase his lack of confidence in if he's actually gonna come back 

which is cool

but I like the og more yk

- about abby's springlock suit: its the same doll from 1:35 am (fazbear frights 3), then there's sparky as an animatronic ans restaraunt, wppohoho

[bullet-prooflove]

"You can't just make decisions like this without asking me!" - Mike Dodds

💛 thank you as always your the bestest

You snapped at Mike as he stood in the doorway of the bedroom with his holdall slung over his shoulder. "It's not fair."

"It's an assignment, it's not like I can turn it down." He retaliated. "You knew what I was about when we got together."

"Mike, you promised no more after last time. You promised me." There was a pleading in your voice and Mike hated it because he had promised you, it was just that this was important and he knew he couldn't expect you to understand. You hadn't see the things that he had seen.

"I don't want to leave it like this." He told you. "But I am going and you need to find a way to deal with it."

[merinelsa]

Klaine Prompt Reverse Bang Fic: Breaking Bonds

Author: @merinelsa

Artist: @very-kurtious

Prompt Provided by: @redheadgleek

Pairing(s): Kurt Hummel/Blaine Anderson

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 839 ( more to come )

Characters: Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel, Mercedes Jones , Mike Chang , Rachel Berry , Burt Hummel , Blaine Anderson’s Father , OC

Summary:  Kurt has always viewed his chosen soulmate as something he could use to escape from this homophobic hellhole . as someone he could finally have who he could be open with and one who truly understands him . His dreams of finally being able to live his true self comes to a standstill as he discovers that his soulmate wants to break their bond . How was he going to find his way to freedom now that his only hope wants to break their connection ? Blaine is absolutely furious to discover that he has been assigned a soulmate. He is a romantic at heart and believes in love, but he wants to fall in love naturally, not somebody that some government officials has assigned. Though with a little hesitation, as Kurt agrees to Blaine’s search for a solution and start working close together, feelings start to develop that both were not anticipating . Would they be able to forego these emotions and continue in their desired path or would the quest for breaking their bond bring them even closer to each other?

Genre/Tropes: Alternate Universe - soulmates , slow burn , strangers to slight indifference to friends to lovers , will add further tags as i go through the story

Warnings: brief homophobia/mentions of homophobia ( the chapter does start with it )

author’s note : the fic has not been completed yet . i do hope to give a weekly update but let’s wait for life to give that luxury . this is a very short first chapter which is only going to increase in word count as we go through further chapters . this is my first time ever writing a fic so please do be patient with me as i figure it all out . Many a thanks to my artist who provided with such a gorgeous artwork and to the prompt provider who gave me such an interesting concept to work with . hope i get to do these artists’ work justice . And lastly , thank you to @the-lima-bean folks for your support and for always being there to satisfy my queries

READ ON AO3  . 

[penguinsravioli]

MIke Wheeler x reader; How?

“How do you do it?”  

Mike asked as he laid on my bed. He was lying on the left side of the bed, his head faced the ceiling. “Hm?” I asked in confusion. I was looking at the ceiling as well. We had been lying here in the dark for the past few minutes just letting the moon light up my room. “How do you do it?” He asked once more. 

“I'm not sure I understand,” I replied. 

“How do you.. how do you just stay yourself all the time? I've known you since we were like 6 and even at your worst moments you’ve never broken down..how do you do it?” 

I turned onto my side and reached for the boy's earlobe. It was a weird habit I had developed when I got nervous or was thinking too hard. “Well, you don't exactly always know when I'm at my worst. A lot of the time I'm just good at hiding it.” I breathed out, thinking of something more to add. 

“Growing up my Mom and biological dad fought a lot. So a lot of the time I just learned how to keep my problems to myself. Along with my worries. Since I was never able to soothe my worries I would soothe others.” I let go of Mike’s ear and turned around back towards the ceiling, laying on my back again. 

“So I guess I've just always been a bit better at hiding it than most. But that doesn't mean i’ve never broke”

“Could you count that one time where you dropped your ice cream and you were like ‘that's my final straw’ and got up and left” I snorted, shoving him a bit. “I mean yeah that week was frustrating. I was struggling with a few assignments and other things here and there but I think I did? genuinely break. I don't remember it much but I can remember getting up so it wouldn't seem like I was actually that upset or something” Mike chuckled. 

“yeah it's just, I dunno you always find a way to make something bad good. Like..you're always just yourself” I smiled widely. “M’yeah? Thanks” I said back. Not knowing what else to reply. As we lay in comfortable silence.

[topazy]

Under my skin

Pairing: Troy Otto x oc

Warnings: Mentions of blood and swearing

Chapter: 1.10

“You don’t need to do this, right?”

Walking towards the canteen I smiled at Jake while he stared at me with a concerned look on his face.

“My family is complicated,” he continued. “I love Troy, and he’s my brother, but he can be very protective. I just wanted to let you know that, because once you're with him, he’ll become a lot more intense than he already is.”

I thought it was sweet that Jake was concerned, but I trusted Troy. I shrug, “It was only a kiss. Besides, he might not even be that interested in me.”

The older Otto rolled his eyes and said, “We both know that’s not true.”

“I thought more people would be here,” I say, changing the subject. To my surprise, the canteen was almost empty, aside from a few militia having a break. Although the sun was shining, the heat was a lot cooler than the days prior, and I thought more people would be taking advantage of that.

“People are grieving.”

He had a point. Jeremiah’s uplifting speech on looking out for one another was overshadowed by Troy's explanation that he and his men were outnumbered by the dead.

I sat down on one of the empty benches and happily shoved some oatmeal into my mouth. “I’ve no idea how you can eat that,” a guy called Mike Trimbol says, scrunching his face up. “It’s disgusting. Having to eat that horse food is one of the worst things about the apocalypse.”

I look at him for a second with my eyebrows raised to see if he's joking or being serious. Mike didn’t understand that there were people who would literally kill for a small bag of oats outside the ranch. “I love oatmeal. I used to use it in different recipes before the dead came knocking, and all of them were delicious.”

I noticed one of the women who was serving food was staring at me. I give her an awkward smile, and her cheeks flush red at being caught. Maybe my light-hearted comment about the dead offended her.

“That’s new,” Jake said, motioning to the gold cross hanging around my neck.

“It belonged to my mother. I stopped wearing it because I was afraid I’d lose it.”

We ate in comfortable silence until I noticed Troy walking towards us. After the memorial, he went to his dad's office to talk to him in private. However, Jeremiah’s voice echoed and from what I heard, he was placing the blame for the four militia men who died on his son.

Troy sat without saying a word and reached for the apple on his brother's tray. Jake gave me a look that telepathically told me not to mention their dad. I watched as Troy sliced the skin off the apple with a miserable look on his face.

I watched as he ate the apple but left the skin. He must have noticed the confused look on my face because he pushed the apple skins in front of me.

“Thanks.”

A peaceful meal was disturbed when Leo walked by with a couple of guys on either side of him and mumbled something under his breath.

I didn’t hear what Leo said aside from the words “whipped” and “bitch,” but Troy did. I reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly as he started to stand up, glaring at the blond. “Troy, just leave it. All that asshole wants is a reaction.”

“Fine.”

That was easy.

“I will on one condition.” He cocks his head to the side, smirking.

“And what’s that?”

“You have to give me a kiss.”

“Fine,” I say, leaning in so close to him that my lips ghosted his. “But I’m not putting on a show for an audience later.”

He follows my trail of sight to the table Mike and his friends were sitting at, all of them were staring directly in our direction. He smirks at me, “I’ll hold you to that.”

—

“Hi.”

“Hi,” I say, and my smile falls when I see the look on Jake's face as he approaches me. “What’s wrong?”

“Uh-listen, all work assignments have been updated.”

A knot twists in my stomach. I wipe the back of my hands with a cloth before starting to put the tools I’d just used back into the toolbox. I sighed, “What am I doing?”

“Kitchen duty.”

I maintained calm on the outside, but on the inside I was screaming. It was very disappointing that, despite being good at what I did, I wouldn’t get to do it for very long because, in the words of Jeremiah Otto, it was an “unladylike” job.

“Whatever, at least it gets me out of the sun.”

“You’re taking it surprisingly well. I thought you would have chewed my ear off,” he laughed. “Thank god you didn’t. I’ve already had an earful from my brother.”

I try my best to keep the smile off my face. I've only spoken to a few of them so far. “When do I start?”

“Tomorrow.”

—

I froze outside the small wooden cabin I was now staying in when I noticed the door was ajar. Strange, I was so sure I’d locked it behind me. I pushed the door open and was greeted by Troy, who was laying on the bed reading a book.

He was laying on his back with his shoes and jacket removed. I was actually jealous of how comfortable he looked. Well, until I noticed the dirt on his trousers.

“You're staring,” he said in a matter of folk tone.

“I’m judging.”

He held the book to his chest and looked up at me with an amused expression on his face. “Judging what exactly?”

“You’re got muddy clothes on my clean sheets.”

His eyes trailed down his clothes until I noticed the small mess and sat up, his eyes widening in realisation. “I can get you some new ones.”

“Since it’s already a mess…” I plopped down on the bed beside him, much to his surprise. “So, you tend to chill in here while I’m somewhere else?”

“No, just thought I’d wait on you here since you owe me.”

“I owe you?”

Troy nodded before pressing his lips against mine. You have to give me a kiss. Troy most definitely held me to my word. I smiled into the kiss before pulling away for air.

Troy began to trail his finger up my neck and along my jawline while telling me how he would be leaving in a couple of days to search for an abandoned warehouse. I noticed the back of his knuckles were cut. I gently grabbed hold of his wrist so I could get a better look, “What did you do?”

He stared at me, emotionless. At first glance, I thought he’d hurt it by accident, but the more I looked at it, the less I believed it was just a simple accident.

“Troy, how did you hurt your hand?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I frowned, “Of course I’m worried. Your knuckles are brushing and have dried blood on them.”

He leaned onto his elbows and looked down at his knuckles with a weird expression on his face, almost as if he was pondering whether to tell me the truth or not. “I got into an argument with Leo. Instead of punching the fucker in the head, I punched the wall beside him instead.”

“Good, I’m sure he got frightened.”

Laughing, he shakes his head. “I’m glad I got your seal of approval.”

I looked up at him as he rambled on about how much he despised Leo ever since he moved into the ranch.I reached up and put my hand on the back of his neck, “Troy?”

“Yeah?”

I pulled his head towards mine to kiss him again.

[brynnasaurus]

Oh yeah we're back, babyyyyy. TV remaining undefeated this year, let's goooo:

Favorite TV Shows of 2022

Reservation Dogs :: a perfect and incredible show, no notes

Andor :: Not only was this by far the best Star Wars show (a very low bar to clear, let’s be honest, folks) and the best existing-IP-show, but straight up one of the best shows of the year full stop. Give Tony Gilroy the keys to the entire Star Wars universe, plz and thank u

Abbott Elementary :: Just nothing better than a solid, old-fashioned, laugh out loud sitcom. Comfort food at its absolute finest!

Better Call Saul :: Of all the shows to stand in the shadow of, Breaking Bad has got to be one of the toughest, but damn if they did not pull it off and absolutely stick the landing. 

We Own This City :: Surprisingly nuanced and totally compelling. Incredible how charismatic Jon Bernthal manages to be even when he’s playing an absolute skid mark of a human! ACAB!!!!!!!

Severance :: LOST x Mad Men + a dash of The Good Place??!!!?! Hell yeah, guys. Inject it directly into my veins!!!!!

Industry :: Do I understand anything anyone is saying on this show? Nope! Do I love it like a day trader loves ketamine? Absolutely! This filled the Succession-sized hole in the my heart perfectly this year.

The Bear :: YES, CHEF

Rings of Power :: Maybe a controversial take around these parts, but I must live my truth: this show fuckin’ rips and I loved every second of it. Haters to the left please, I do not want to hear it!!!! Also, shout out to Bear McCreary, who understood the assignment that LOTR scores MUST go unbelievably hard.

Atlanta :: 2 seasons in one year, we are truly blessed. A perfect series finale!!

The White Lotus :: Pure grade-A entertainment from top to bottom. Mike White is a king.

Pachinko :: Beautiful, heart-wrenching, just absolutely lovely

Slow Horses :: I’m a sucker for a good spy thriller and this is an excellent one. Also the only show featuring Olivia Cooke I will be acknowledging in this list!!!!! 👀👀👀

Our Flag Means Death :: Was afraid that this show, seemingly tailor-made to me and my interests, was going to fly under the radar, but luckily it seems a few folks around the internet love it too. ;) 

What We Do in the Shadows :: You really are the most devious bastard in NEW YORK CIIIITAAAAAHHHYYY

Honorable Mentions

For All Mankind, The Rehearsal, Righteous Gemstones, The Patient, The Dropout, The Good Fight, Minx, The Boys, Borgen

Previous Years

[whereyabeenloca]

If anyone else feels like fucking crying, I had the itch to write Max Mayfield’s letters. A friend told me to post this, if y’all like them I will publish the others, but here is Max’s hypothetical letter she wrote to Lucas:

Dear Lucas,

Hi Lucas,

Hi. I have truly no fucking clue how to start this. I’ve never really written any letters before, except for class assignments, but not really to any of my friends. I guess I’m going to get lots of practice today, so I better start getting good. But you’re my first letter, so. Bear with me, okay?

The day I met you, I thought you were probably the biggest dork I have ever met in my life. I mean, serious nerd. You and Will and Mike and Dustin were nothing like the kids back in California. Like, at all. Your stupid Ghostbusters costume were kind of cool, I guess. But I definitely never expected to get here, with you, with all of us.

You told me that one day in the arcade that I needed to accept the risk of knowing. And I didn’t really think about the consequences of that at the time obviously. But now here I am. Thinking about the consequences of that risk. And you want to know something? If I knew back then what that meant, like I could flash forward into the future and see everything that has happened, and where it’s lead, I think I would do it again. I think I would still choose to know and still end up here because you all have changed my life. You have changed my life.

You were my first kiss. Yeah, I know, that’s pretty lame. But I don’t know if you ever knew that, and figured I would just tell you because well, I just want to. You were my first boyfriend, first anything I guess. First person I ever loved. And not like, family love or friend love but that I actually really love. Loved? I don’t know. Things are so complicated and I just didn’t really know what to do after Billy. I hate myself for just standing there. I really do. I hate that I froze, that I didn’t do anything, I just stood and watched, like a fucking coward.

And I didn’t know how to tell anybody about what it felt like. Losing someone who was so shitty to me my whole life, and then they decide at the very last moment to be a good person? To sacrifice themselves for me, and the fate of the world? It didn’t make sense. I felt like it should have been me. I should have done more to protect everyone. I should have done more to protect all of you. But I didn’t. And I have never been a coward ever in my life, and that was the moment I chose to be? I don’t know. Seems pretty fucking stupid.

I guess I’m just trying to tell you this because I want you to understand you didn’t do anything wrong. You could be a total doofus and ignorant about girls and shit. But I didn’t break up with you because of you, I did it because of me. Because I thought it would be safer than getting even more attached to you, to everyone, that I didn’t want to ruin what a good person you’ve always been because you’re so good. You’re so sweet. I felt like I was some kind of parasite, leeching that goodness off of you, and just putting all my hate and guilt on your shoulders. And you didn’t deserve that.

I’ve really missed you this past year. Yeah, it sucks the end of the world is happening, but I’m happy it gave me a reason to talk to you again. To hang out, like we used to. I don’t think I ever stopped being in love with you. It made me sad that you felt like you needed to “prove yourself”, that you’re cool. Because I thought you were pretty cool just being you. But I heard about what happened, at your game, the night Chrissy died. On the radio. That Lucas Sinclair made the winning shot. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there for it, because I bet it was pretty fucking awesome.

Thank you for being my friend. Thank you for being my boyfriend. Thank you for being this weird ex-thing that still wants to hangout with me, and save the world one more fucking time. I hope it’s the last. I hope we make it out on the other side. But just in case I don’t, I want you to know that you’ve been the best part of my life. Like, my whole life. More than skateboarding, more than music, more than anything. You made my life worth living. And I’m really glad I got to know you. Don’t ever change to impress people, okay? Because who you are already is amazing. I just want you to know that.

Thank you,

Love,

From,

Max.

[cherryisgone]

So I read your fic 'darling, all the while' and I loved it! The angst, the tension between Mike and Will was so so good...I felt it in my bones. Since there is a dearth of Mike's POV in ST in the later seasons, it was such a relief to read what he is feeling, through your story.

I love it when writers give an idea what the characters were listening/ watching... so thank you for introducing me to Jo Stafford's music (and will soon get to The Lost Boys). You are a kind soul. Also, it is so clever of you to include a movie with a Michael, to add to the drama! Love your brain!

I would like to quote my favorite lines:

"It looks like something Will would like to paint." I love that Mike is reminded of Will when he sees something so simple that Will would like or paint.

"It’s just Will." I loved the rhythm and the beat to this whole portion where he is calming his nerves down. You captured Mike's so emotions well.

"Everything feels softer around Will, even Mike. Especially Mike, with his middle child attention-seeking rowdiness and all his sharp angles.   Sometimes he’s afraid to cut right through Will, hold tight enough to crack, to break. He’s done that before. He's hand-picking his words now, dulling his edges, carving a path for his heart to spill freely because Will Byers deserves nothing less. Because despite everything there’s still a softness and a warmth to him where anyone else would have gone jagged-edged and cold." The imagery associated with Mike and Will is so well connected to their characters. Yes, anyone else would have reacted coldly and lost hope, but not our dear Will.

"Mike’s the cloak of shadows it takes for Will’s light to shine." The D&D language shining through here.

"It’s in car-crash moments like these, sudden and heartstopping, that Mike asks himself how he could ever be so blind." Oh, you seriously put car-crash with heartstop, I see, I see what you did there.

"A soft tap catches his attention and Mike looks up in the direction of El’s bedroom window – she’s there in a flowery summer dress, waving and smiling at him" Even in a 5 second appearance, El is so charismatic.

"It feels prophetic in a way, foretelling. There’s a storm coming and there’s a storm inside Mike, too. He hopes it’s not foreboding, too, refuses to believe he might have read any of this wrong, that lighting is gonna crash down and so are they. Crash and burn." I love when writers are able to connect the weather with the emotions of the characters. So beautiful.

"It makes him feel nauseous and brings a dull ache in his bones, an echo of all that he has broken and cracked to fit in his assigned Mike Wheeler-shaped space. Makes him feel like the bad guy, like a bad person." Omg, the angst in the words!

"Like cloud watching laying on soft green grass, like running barefoot in an open field during a storm, drenched to the bone with a metal heart in your ripped-open chest and one hundred percent chance of being struck by lightning.)" How are you creating magic with your words, cherryisgone?

" Mike’s heart feels brittle; it feels like a crime scene: caught in love, all glowing red and blue with sirens going off in the distance." Oh Mike!!!! I understand how you feel!

"He’s openly staring – there’s no denying what he’s doing, his shamelessness." Wow Mike, I didn't think you had it in you.

"And it’s exhilarating, sends sparks from the tip of his fingers up to his heart like touching naked wires." Awwww...

A one person staring contest is going on, Omg! I love this part!

"He’s tired of carrying these feelings around – heavier than stones and lighter than birds, always trying to flee away from his hands, his ribs too loose to hold them in any longer." The heaviness of those feelings are so apt!

You know, I would thought that Will would be concerned that Mike doesn't stand too much in the rain, but I love this teasing version of Will more! "Will parts his lips in mock surprise, raises his eyebrows in fake concern, “Really?” His eyes twinkle. Brat."

"How Will can go from a flustered mess to movie star beautiful just leaning out a car window is beyond Mike." Will is too beautiful Mike, always has been.

The lines you picked for the summary are the best!! So angsty!

"His voice is pulled too tight at the edges, but only because Mike knows where to look, otherwise Will sounds unaffected. It infuriates him suddenly, anger sparks hot-red in his stomach at how damn good Will Byers is at pretending, hiding, saying without saying." Will is so good at hiding, I love how you weaved the canonical things about Will into this so well.

"He wants to trash the hermetic doors of Will’s mind." I like this word hermetic... sounds so apt for Will.

"My hands were there, too. It’s a ridiculous thought." That's so sweet, Mike! Exactly how a new lover would have thought.

"(He knows why Will’s not saying anything. It’s because there’s nothing left for him to add, nothing to draw from the bottom of the well; everything’s been left spilled and running on dusty desert ground from the hood of a junkyard car. Bleeding in the back of a stuffy pizza van; flooding the floor of a blood-splattered skating rink.)" Oh no, you are making me cry!

"Even when the earth was shifting beneath them and the ground was opening to pull them apart Mike still knew Will; knew all his soft spots, knew where to hit to cause critical damage, how to draw the most blood. A vein pulses inside him, pumps shame and regret thick as mud." So much power in one person's hand!

"You. Plain and simple, written in Mike’s messy handwriting and underlined twice floating in the too-much, too-little space between them." I love it when writers focus on writing as part of the character's inner monologue, since Mike is a writer, so apt here.

I love actual conversation scenes between characters- discussion on flying is so interesting, even though it is small.

I loved how you placed Mike's memory of his mother singing here and then he starts flirting with Will. I love how you bring in the lyrics later in the story.

" he never meant to be this cruel to Will, to prod at his heart with the morbid curiosity of a child playing with roadkill."

"He wants to say too many things, wants to slam the door open and stand in the rain until he dissolves and nothing is left of Mike Wheeler" "Perhaps go stand in the rain for a while?”" I love the mirroring of thoughts here!!

"Threads of his speech unravel, fade into wisps of smoke."

I love this curveball that you threw with the blood pacts story! Totally unexpected!!! "Lucas brought that old hunting knife" I love this detail, because Lucas's grandpa would definitely have one. "If this is an attempt at delaying the inevitable, Mike’s having none of this bullshit."

“It can be scary to get what you want after wanting it for so long,” I definitely cried at this one.

"Drunk on the feeling of being wanted by the right person."

"Remembers a child's fear of being struck by lightning, his stubborn refusal to get outside the house when the weatherman promised heavy rain, unshakable in his kindergarten certainty that lightning would find him and shock him to death. Evaporate all his blood in a single strike."

"Deep down there’s still a frightened kid on his first day of kindergarten staking a claim, making a promise. Running around Mike’s ribcage screaming with delightful glee You’re mine, you’re mine! You’re still mine!" I love how you put in another memory of Mike with what's happening so beautifully.

(I'm sorry for the super long message.) I enjoyed your work so much!

sorry for taking this long to reply, it's not like I have asks piling up in askbox,. it's just I had no idea what to say if not an infinite string of thank you.

It's always a joy when people highlight their favourite lines, it's like seeing my writing through different lenses and you quoted so many! Some of which are actually my faves.

The movie playing was a fortunate coincidence, actually. I don't watch many movies but I happed go watch the Lost Boys before starting the fic; and ofc a drive-in story required a movie. You can only imagine my delight when I discovered the date of release of the film actually made sense with the timeline. I was like "well, the stars aligned, guess I'll write the fic 🙏🏻"

And the "car-crash moment" is something I'm very partial to. When I was 17 I went to a international English school in Dublin and we had a class on metaphors. I was assigned "love is [blank]" which I filled with "love is a car-crash" and idk, that just stuck with me overtime. I'm dramatic like that ✨ (I actually witnessed a car-crash one year later and yeah, not that romantic)

I create magic with words you say? Well you create tears with that comment, readerofportrait. I just happen to love pretty words and images; I literally constructed whole sentences around words I liked and decided to use just bc of the way they sounded! And i love to have nature and the weather mirror the characters' inner state - I'm a gothic writer at heart 🖤

And i actually adore how you describe Mike staring at Will as a "one person staring contest". Never thought of it that way!

What I enjoy abt this fic is that I believe there's a bit of everything - teasing, banter, pining, angst, confession, softness, anger, nerdiness, lust even. And I'm really glad you too enjoyed so many aspects of it.

I honestly cried the first time I read this ask bc it's just made me so happy. I like writing, I know that, but it's in moments like this, when I can see the effect my words have on other people that I remember I don't just like writing but love it.

So thank you for reminding me, thank you for reading the story and taking the time to leave such a heartwarming comment. Thank you from the bottom of my heart 💙

[willbyersapologist]

if you had to assign the stranger things ensemble to different chain brands where would they work, imo Mike is definetely a mc'donalds guys whereas El would work at like walmart

omg help this is such a fun ask THANK YOU!!!

okay let’s do this

Mike would work at Burger King because he thinks McDonald’s is overrated (or maybe bc they didn’t want him working there)

El would work at Claire’s for SURE!!! I can just see her piercing little kid’s ears and having the biggest smile on her face while doing so. Also the employees at Claire’s always have to wear those super flashy, girly accessories and El would LOVE using them.

Will would work at Walmart. Idk why but I can just see him as floor manager or something. Always cleaning after everyone’s mess and being super nice and helpful to the costumers.

Max would work at a thrift store, which I know there are many so it’s not exactly a brand but, I can just see her spending all day long trying to find clothes for herself and El instead of actually helping costumers lmao (i don’t blame her)

Lucas would work at Domino’s because pizza is his favourite food of all time and he doesn’t mind having it everyday for dinner and lunch. Also bc he and Dustin spend a lot of time together, meaning that they sometimes have to order pizza and Dustin’s taste in ingredients is so so terrible Lucas started working at Domino’s so he’d always be the one to bring/order pizza for him and Dustin with the mere excuse that “They know me man! Just let ME order!”

As for Dustin, I feel like he would work at KFC BUT he’d do the cooking instead of working as a cashier bc he hates people and cannot, for the life of him, deal with some client’s lack of understanding. Plus in the kitchen he gets to boss everyone around which is pretty great.

This was SO FUN to do omg thank you sm!!!!

(yo listen I assigned Will to Walmart bc I have no fucking idea what art stores exist in the US, much less which ones already existed back in the 80s lmao, obviously my baby Will would work somewhere cooler but I just don’t know where 😭😭)