#Mike doing a self burn here too

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Mike meets Jeremy Fitzgerald

#myart #chloesimagination #comic #jeremy fitzgerald #michael afton #mike schmidt #fnaf #fnaf 2 #fnaf fanart #five nights at freddy's #FINALLY more of Jeremy!! #sorry it’s taken so long for more of this boy but he returns 🩵 #Mike doing a self burn here too #HE knows very well he doesn’t have friends so how Michael got one #(​Mike has one friend too and that’s Jeremiah) #Least Mike made Jeremy laugh- #Jeremy just got here and his homie already being out on blast #I love the idea of Jeremy and Michael actually being friends #like Michael is awful anti social monster and he’s buddies with the most chipper guy ever #it’s good bit I think it’ll be fun to explore that more! #I gotta draw Jeremy more after this #there’s sm to draw with him 💜💜 #I hope yall like him and his design!!

[sameschmidtdiffname]

hai i have a request for a mike fic, so i was thinking of a comfort/hurt type of thing and maybe like a “i didn’t know where else to go” kind of trope where reader shows up to his house in the middle of the night distressed and he comforts her

To All I Think is Safe

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: After a family dinner gone awry, something guides you somewhere where your mind can safely wander in better memories than the ones you're making right now.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for Reader, mentions of arguments, heavy disassociation, heavy nosebleeding, flashbacks, first kiss, date, fear of heights, fair date, author is fucking trying, fluff.

Notes: I think my bosses want me dead. Anyway, here's Wonderwall.

                     ▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

I can handle family. Who can't handle family?

The part of me knocking on the green door illuminated only by the orange streetlight a few yards away, trying to peak through one of the three window slots on the door to see if there's any sign of life inside of the modest house, praying that there is out of selfish desperation. That's who.

I hadn't called. Hadn't given notice. I'd been too caught up in the emotions of myself to do so, worried I'd be turned away if I had. The thought makes me feel ill now, my mind chastising me for such a self interested act.

For a moment I almost turn to leave, sure that no one is awake and that I've simply wasted the gas in the trip over here. But at the loud clunk of the door unlocking, I feel my heart jump and sink simultaneously as Mike peaks his head through the crack in the door, bags under his eyes and hair tossled from sleep.

"Hey," he croaked, blinking away the sleep as his tired face managed a look of surprise.

"Hey," I said softly, trying not to let my voice crack. But it does. "Is this a bad time?"

I don't know what gives my state away. Maybe it's how swollen my face is, puffy and burning from the overexposure to salt water. I can already feel the skin on my eyes balloning in a disastrously unattractive manner. Maybe it's the snot that's still on my face even after trying desperately to wipe it away, my problem being I'd run out of napkins in my car some time ago and hadn't replaced them, so I'd been resorted to just trying my best to sniff back the snot or use the arm of my jacket, which is now soaked and covered by my hand to conceal it, to wipe it away. God, it's fucking sticky and I feel gross. I don't understand why the snot won't just stop fucking flowing.

"Shit, you're bleeding," Mike says. His eyes widen as he steps forward, instantly dragging me into the house, down the hall and into the bathroom.

Oh. That's why my head hurts.

The white light is blinding and overstimulating in the small, disorganized room. One glance in the mirror and I can see the bottom half of my face is grossly smeared in the snot-blood combo running from my nose, my eyes bloodshot and more dry than a British comedy from all of the tears. I stare at myself for a moment, hardly even realizing Mike is yanking my coat off of me, stroking my hair and trying to ask me questions about what happened. I can hear his voice but the words are muffled, and even though my eyes are staring at him now, I don't know when I turned to face him or what I'm really looking at. I'm just staring at anything. My mother used to call it 'staring off into space.' It's actually a disassociation episode. The kind that can make me lose myself in other thoughts, making me distant from reality where I assume the worst of things.

I'm rational enough to know not to lean into him. If I throw myself into his arms I'll smear my shit everywhere and then he'll be grossed out and will have to play nice after I interrupted his sleep to beg for comfort that should come easily enough from my aforementioned mother, but clearly I'm adult enough now that I don't need coddling and I shouldn't have driven here and-

Am I saying this out loud? Because my mouth is moving and I'm trying to say something but I'll be honest, my head is in disarray and Mike looks worried. Me too, buddy. Me too.

My hands try to help his find a wash cloth in his closet, trying to be useful, but they're covered in snot and blood too and it's dried and horrid looking and I just feel like some sticky toddler that's wailing over nothing because that's what I'm doing, and I'm trying not to dissolve into a new wave of tears because my eyes really, really hurt and I'm gonna end up hiccuping and sobbing and I shouldn't even be here right now.

Mike's hands wrap around mine and he's trying to pull me somewhere. But he won't get out of my way, tugging me forward and blocking me like it's some game. Then I realize it's him he's trying to drag me to, and I try to push away, not wanting to get him dirty or let him fulfill some duty of pity just because he feels obligated seeing me in such a state. He's touching my hair and there's snot in that too and this is all just entirely too much, making me burst out sobbing once more as I try to hide my face in my arm, feeling all too vulnerable and alone while in a house that's not mine in any way, shape or form. But his arms feel nice around me, and he's guiding me to the bathtub and helping me lay down inside of it. When he pulls away I'm paranoid for a second that he'll turn the shower head on and wash me like a drunk, especially when he reaches for the shower handles. He presses a clean, white cloth to the spout and let's just a little bit of water out to wet the washcloth before turning the water off and coming closer to me, dabbing and wiping gently at the drying mixture on my face.

There's a long while of silence. Him carefully washing me, his touch gentle and caring as I feel the wet glumps with dried crusts fade away. The pounding in my head begins to dull to an overwhelming ache, making me shut my eyes as I softly groan. When I think he's done I dare peaking at him from under my lashes, trying to read his mind. His brows are furrowed, probably in disgust. Lips pressed together as he sits on the balls of his heels,, watching me carefully. Most likely he'll let me sleep on the couch and then kick me out in the morning. I'll be lucky if I get the "We should see other people" speech. I wouldn't blame him if my calls just couldn't connect when I get home, leaving me to wonder what could've been if I hadn't been so selfish.

I don't even know the time for fucks sake.

"I'm not crazy," I say in this broken voice that only a crazy person would have.

I don't know what's funny, but he's laughing. His hand reaches out to stroke my cheek, and he feels so warm. His callouses have this smooth texture to them. Working hands. It's the first thing I noticed when we held hands the first time. It was at some carnival thing, and Abby was with us. It was sweet under those neon lights. The rides always look so cheap, but there's something enchanting in that. It's what I focus on now as my mind finally begins to relax, allowing me the guilty pleasure of mentally slipping away into an actual memory instead of just static filling my mind and drowning everything else out unpleasantly.

"I know," Mike says softly, his thumb stroking the raw skin under my eye as he watches me with a gentle smile, one probably meant to hide his contempt. "You're okay."

The rides had these giant speakers built into them. And the workers would play songs from them, loud enough it was blaring in your ear on the ride but it was a reasonable volume when you were just walking around on the wet, overgrown and matted grass that curls around the giant cables Mike and I both had to be irritating about reminding Abby not to trip on, both of us looking down to watch for them more than looking at anything else.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Mike asks gently. He's always so gentle. Well, not always.

"Ope, someone lost their drink," I said to Mike, pointing at a spilled lemonade on the dirt path that had been created by decades of the county fair foot-traffic.

"Five second rule," Mike said, his voice low and teasing in my ear, making me burst out laughing.

"That's fucking disgusting!" I exclaimed, looking at him incredulously. A mother passing by snapped 'hey!' At me, tugging her child harshly behind her as she glared. I blushed, covering my mouth with my hand at the outburst, which made Mike laugh just as hard as I just had.

I suppose I have to talk about it. I can't really just not show up at his doorstep in the middle of the night and not just explain myself. But my teeth feel cemented together, my throat full of glue that halts the words I could use to inform him of why I look like this. And my eyes are too tired to make contact with his. So I just melt into his hand, pressing it between my cheek and my shoulder. And he doesn't press any more.

"I always liked the rides that made me feel like I was flying," Mike said as we watched Abby spin round and round with some girl she often spent her days with. Lisa Something.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning to look at him, taking a drink from the giant lemonade that was not at all real lemonade and was instead some horrid sugar that's taking five years off of our lives mixed with whatever makes the color of the drink the same as construction workers glow-in-the-dark vests that I'm sure will have like, ten different studies on how it gives you some cardiovascular disorder from overexposure in twenty years. There's a waxy ring of chapstick around my straw, so it's easy to tell which one to drink from. Mike had gotten just the one giant drink and two straws, shoving them in with a smooth smile as he handed me the already sweaty, Pepsi branded cup to hold while we walked. I think he didn't know that I noticed the twelve year old boy who'd been five people ahead of us in line do the same thing with his date earlier, but it was a cute gesture nonetheless.

"Yeah. I don't know why, it just felt comforting. Wind fuckin' up my hair and shit," he said, hands shoved in his jean pockets as he watched the two girls, who are sticking their tongues out at us as they whirl by.

"What, like you were flying away from your problems?" I ask, genuinely guessing.

"Nah, I don't really think of it like that. Just felt like I was somewhere else for a bit. Could close my eyes and the only anxiety I felt was whether or not Genie there was gonna fucken drop me," he said, glancing at me and smirking as he points at the giant airbrushed painting of Genie from Aladdin on the side of the ride. That's definitely not licensed.

"Have you eaten?" Mike asks softly, coming a little closer to me as his other hand cups my opposite cheek. At that I shake my head, pressing my lips together.

"It was all just some giant fiasco," I said as I laughed while trying to aim my basketball for the hoop several feet in front of me. Mike's made like five goals in a row and is proudly holding a very cheap rainbow dolphin with lopsided eyes for me while he watches me struggle just to get one.

"What, your prom date?" He teased, leaning closer to my ear as I take a shot. And miss. Again. "Or this?"

I turned to him, glaring and trying to suppress my amused smile.

"The date was fine, my hair was horrid," I said, turning away from the man working the booth who was trying to convince me to try again.

"I always like your hair," Mike says softly, one hand stroking my hair as he presses his forehead against mine. God, why won't he just tear into me already? The anticipation is fucking killing me.

I open my mouth to respond, but I just hiccup instead. At that he gently helps me up, guiding me out of the bathroom and leading me into the kitchen where he promises a leftover bowl of chicken noodle soup has my name written all over it in the fridge.

There's a thousand insecure questions I want to ask right now. Does he hate me? Will he hate me? Is this just a prelude to an awful breakup? But instead I just cling to my thoughts quietly, not wanting an answer to anything. Reality fading in and out of focus.

The kitchen is quiet as he moves about, dishing out the leftovers and putting them in the cheap, stained microwave he'd had to buy when Abby blew up the last one with a pitiful attempt at making her own rice Krispy treats. He leans against the counter as we wait for the rattling machine to finish, neither of us really saying anything as my leg bounces wildly in anxiety.

"Are you okay?" Mike asks softly after a moment, tilting his head. His arms are crossed in front of him, which is normal for Mike but it still makes me on edge.

I try again to speak, but I can't. It feels like I'll just blow up again if I do. So I just shrug instead, not wanting to talk about the lengthy screaming match I'd managed to find myself in earlier that night.

The microwave beeps loudly, causing us both to start, Mike pulling the door open quickly to shut it up and take out the now hot bowl, hissing under his breath at himself for not grabbing a towel as he quickly moves to set it down in front of me. If I'd been in a better state I would've laughed at the admittedly comical sight, but I felt like I'd done enough at his expense for one night.

Once situated, there's long while of silence. No other noise except for my spoon clinking against my bowl as I eat quietly, Mike watching me across the glass table as he takes a few drinks from his clear glass of water, head on his large hand. A clock ticks in the other room, the hour later than I'd wanted to be when I showed up unannounced.

"I'm sorry," I finally say in a soft voice, my spoon scraping soundlessly against the maroon bowl. "I just didn't know where else to go."

He smiles softly at that, his hand reaching across the table for mine. The touch meant to be comforting instead sends me back into my thoughts, my body stiffening as my mind tries to distract me from my anxiety and doubt.

Our hands had been brushing against each other for hours as we'd walked. Both of us were too nervous to take the others, which is a bit silly since we were grown adults. But really we hadn't had any serious discussions yet. We were still in the dinners and texting phase, dancing around any serious 'what is this' talks until we felt like we would both have similar answers ready for any questions. The night had settled in solidly now, the fairgrounds only alive by the bright lights of the rides.

The grazing, however, had come to an end when the ferris wheel started clicking towards what felt like my untimely demise.

I fucking hate ferris wheels, fun fact.

I don't think Mike particularly likes them either, based off of how stiff his body was next to mine, his eyes trained dead ahead, his jaw clenched. I think he might break a tooth. Or maybe I'm projecting.

Abby and Lisa had been insistent on riding it, and had been even more insistent that Mike and I needed to ride something with them before the night was over. And even though we both looked at the thing with a pit in our stomach, neither of us felt ridiculous about being grown adults on that ride as opposed to all the others flooded with teens and kids dodging in and out, stomping in puddles of who knows what on their way to the next ride. So we gritted our teeth, handed over our tickets and got into the cart right behind Abby and Lisa, who wouldn't stop looking back at us with amused eyes, whispering into each other's each as they covered their mouths.

"My dad worked as a carnie," I blurted out as we hung mid air, halfway up the ride while they still loaded people in. "These things are fucken sturdy."

Mike didn't look at me. Or at least he didn't turn his head. I didn't either. His silence makes my anxiety a bit worse, wondering if my random fact had somehow irritated him, or if there was something I was supposed to do that I wasn't picking up on.

"... I'm gonna die to Creed," he finally said between his gritted teeth.

My brows furrow for a moment before I realize what song is playing, and then I'm laughing. Maybe a little too much, but that's the anxiety. Abby and Lisa are darting their heads around to look down at us, trying to see what's set me off, and Creed's taking One Last Breath on the blaring radio somewhere around us as they have been for the past however many months with the top song.

"I'm never gonna escape this, they play this way too much at work," I laughed. And he started laughing too, both of us white knuckled as we gripped the bar in front of us. Then we move up again, and the cart is slightly rocking, making me feel ill.

"That's okay," Mike says softly, his thumb trailing across my knuckles as I stare down at our hands. "I was missing you, anyways."

I look up at him, trying to read his expression, my head still trying to balance my focuses. There's concern in his eyes, obvious as he realizes how awful this particular episode is.

Abby is yelling something at us, but my head is buzzing with too much anxiety to hear her.

"Go away!" Mike yells back at her, waving his hand in irritation, then stopping as he realizes he's rocking the cart. He looked back at me anxiously, trying to smile. It just looked like he'd been shot instead. "Sisters," he said shyly.

"What's she saying?" I asked him, leaning closer to hear him better over the heavy guitar.

"Nothing," he insisted. "She's just being twelve."

I go to look up, only to feel his hand on top of mine, warm and strong as he grips it a little too hard for the first time, but I think that's out of anxiety too. No matter what, the first move makes me more dizzy.

"Your dad worked fairs?" He asked anxiously, obviously trying to change the subject.

"I should've called first," I say softly, leaning onto the table and pushing the empty bowl away from me as I lay on top of my arm.

"It's okay," he reminds me in a soft voice, rising from his chair while still holding my hand. "You're home now."

"Well, I'm at your home now," I hiccup into my arm. His arms wrap around me, guiding me up and into his warm embrace that I'd been longing for for what felt like hours.

"I thought you said you liked flying!" I laughed, terrified.

"Flying! This is sitting still while dangling above death!" Mike clarified. The carts began clicking again, and we now had an easier view of the two girls in front of us, making him gasp and yell out Abby's full name in scolding.

I see why he didn't want me to look up. Abby and Lisa are miming a make-out session while they giggle obnoxiously.

"Oh my God, I'm gonna fucking ground her," he groaned, covering his forehead with his other hand. His face is completely red, his body so stiff it feels like I could break off his arm with barely any pressure, and my own heart is slamming so hard against my chest I think it's visible.

One more click and we'll be at the top. Great.

He's looking down at me, I think he's trying to get me to refocus but I just can't. I've done my duties for the night, and now I'm stuck in this emotional pit of hatred and numbness as my mind tries to remind me of a better time that just makes me feel worse because Mike is speaking again and I just can't hear him.

"She's being a wingman. Really, she's just spotting a good opportunity," I rambled in Abby's defense. Mike glanced at me, then at the tweens in front of us.

"Yeah?" He asked, his voice nerve wracked.

"Oh yeah. Every little sister does it. I mean, it's partially based in torture, but overall she's trying to help," I said quickly, my breath shortening.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking just as pale as me.

"I fucking hate heights, please distract me," I pleaded quickly, only to immediately feel his teeth click loudly against mine as he kissed me, his lips sweet with sugar and hands nearly breaking mine from his tight grip, Abby and Lisa whooping obnoxiously in front of us as we freeze in the moment. It's clumsy, certainly. And it's obvious on both ends how long it's been since either of us have done this. But it's an effective method, my mind beginning to refocus on the taste of the borderline awful lemonade fresh on his breath, his shaking hand moving from the bar to cup my cheek cold from the wind. My eyes widen in surprise, the music swelling around us and the lights somehow brighter as we rock above the rest of the fair in the squeaking booth.

When he pulls away, there's a soft smile on his face, his tongue quickly darting out to taste his own lips.

"... I like your chapstick," he said shyly, neither of us focused on the fact that we're now moving steadily in the ride, fully tuned in to the other.

"Thanks," I said softly, cheeks burning against his touch. "Strawberry."

There's a long second of nothing, and I'm vaguely aware of Abby and Lisa screaming "Can You Feel the Love Tonight?" And someone is trying to shush them. I know it's not Mike because he's staring at me like an idiot. Completely satisfied and dramatically more calm as he leans in for another kiss, this time pulling me fully into his embrace.

"You're home," Mike repeats against my lips, then moving to trail along my cheeks, his hands carefully cupping my face once more as his touch grounds me back in reality. "I'll be here when your mind gets back."

As my own hands graze along his soft, cotton shirt, I feel my pulse begin to relax. Doubt beginning to creep away as his lips trail along my jaw, slowly working to my neck. It's not a demanding touch. It's just comfort. And he'll keep doing this until I return to him like I always do, and then he'll keep doing it until we both fall asleep in a tight embrace under a dozen blankets, half of which will be gone by morning as we wake in a pool of sweat across the bed from each other, only to seek the other out again in wakefulness. And there will be answers for his questions, and I'll be fine.

I'm home now.

                             ¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

I FINALLY FUCKING PUBLISHED SOMETHING. HOLY FUCK I'M OVERWORKED. (Fun fact, this was fucking hard because I was actively disassociating while writing the whole thing. Reader just like me frfr)

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool. Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

               •▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

#josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson #jhutch #mike schmidt #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt fnaf #jhutch1992 #fnaf mike schmidt #fnaf mike #mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader smut #mike schmidt x you

[unfinishedslurs]

prank gone wrong (viral!) (steddie)

Eddie’s been someone’s dirty little secret before.

He’s got a type, okay? Unfortunately hot jocks are often the type of asshole to get sucked off behind the bleacher and then turn around and spit in his face about it. Going right back to their friends to talk shit about what a freak Eddie is, never mind the fact that his mouth still tastes like their nasty fucking jizz. He’s used to it by now. Used to people who pretend they barely know each other. He’s not asking they parade their relationship for the whole town to see, just someone who doesn’t pretend they’re strangers. Is that too much to ask? 

He’s so fucking stupid. He really thought this time would be different.

Steve Harrington barreled into his life like a goddamn train and Eddie’s been derailed ever since.

The first time he met Steve he was six. Eddie still lived with his mom, and she took him to the park, where he met a little boy who wrinkled his nose and told him he smelled bad. Steve does not remember this, and turned red with mortification the first time Eddie told him

After that incredible hit to baby Eddie’s self-esteem, they didn’t interact much, existing on the periphery of each others lives. He figured it didn’t matter. Harrington was a year under him, and a douche besides. Was ready to leave town from the moment he learned to walk. As soon as he graduated, he could finally get the hell out of this place and never think about the assholes he went to school with again.

His mom leaves. His dad gets arrested. He moves in with his Uncle Wayne, who only has one bedroom in his trailer and won’t take no for an answer when he gives it to Eddie. 

Eddie doesn’t graduate.

(Harrington comes back to school different after Byers beats him up. Eddie doesn’t notice. He’s got bigger things to worry about.)

They don’t talk in Eddie’s second run of senior year either. He hears the gossip, sees him come to school with stitches in his forehead and no girlfriend. Still, it’s none of his damn business. He rolls his eyes at the rumors and stays far away from Billy Hargrove.

Steve Harrington graduates. Eddie doesn’t.

And this is where his careful distance falls apart.

It’s the mall’s fault of course. What isn’t? Businesses closing down, rent going up, his resolve crumbling. All over some fucking ice cream. God, Eddie should have just turned around. Left the store and the mall and the entire damn town behind. 

He’s aware he’s being melodramatic, but in his defense he’s queer in Indiana. He has a right to be. 

Anyways, the point is that Eddie saw Harrington’s little blue shorts and red lips and cannot be held responsible for what happened after. 

(They fucked. That’s what happened. They fucked, and kept fucking, and then after the mall burned down Steve showed up on his doorstep with suspiciously placed bruises and his coworker and looked at Eddie with pleading eyes. He didn’t even bring Robin home to her parents like a sensible person, just insisted on having her there because they were a package deal now and couldn’t be separated. Like puppies, Robin said when he looked at her. Last he checked, she wanted to bite Steve’s head off, and now they were attached at the hip?

He got used to it quickly. He had to. She comes on half their dates. Steve’s lucky he’s so cute.)

Now, nearly five months after Steve served him ice cream for the first time, he feels his heart shatter in the Hawkins High parking lot. 

“Harrington,” Dustin shouts, and it carries across the empty lot. Steve’s head jerks up and he waves, Robin standing beside him. “Steve, c’mere!”

Steve tilts his head. “What?”

“Come. Here.” Dustin repeats, enunciating clearly. Mike and Lucas look at him like he’s insane. So do Gareth, Jeff, and Chuck. 

Steve, who is standing a mere 20 feet away, turns to Robin and says something that makes her snort. Eddie can practically hear his bitchy murmur. 

“Is that Harrington’s girlfriend?” He hears Gareth ask. He has to swallow his laughter. 

“Yes,” Dustin says.

“No,” Mike corrects. 

“He won’t admit anything, but he always has a bunch of hickies and stuff after hanging out with her,” Lucas clarifies, because half the time when Steve says he’s hanging out with Robin he's actually with Eddie. The fact that Robin is usually still there is irrelevant. Marking up his boyfriend is one of his favorite pastimes. He refuses to let his boyfriend’s “soulmate” get in the way just because she refuses to sleep in one of the Harrington’s fancy guest rooms like a normal person unless he kicks her out. The way they both pout at him for it is fucking ridiculous. He ends up giving in half the time, and then lies awake and cold on the very edge of the bed because Robin starfishes her way across the rest and Steve is a blanket hog. 

The first time he tried giving Steve a hickey as some kind of dominance move for privacy, Robin stared him dead in the eye and didn’t back down. 

“I can do that too,” she said, and promptly bit Steve on the shoulder. Steve, who was shirtless and already slightly dazed from Eddie’s ministrations, let out an honest to God squeak. Like a dog toy. Eddie and Robin both stared at him before breaking into loud cackles that had a blushing Steve yelling at them before finally burrowing under the covers and refusing to come out. Needless to say, Eddie didn’t get laid that night. 

“Harring-ton,” Dustin whines. 

“I’m literally right here. You come here.”

He did, if only to grab Steve by the wrist and drag him to where everyone else was standing. Steve squawks. “When we’re late for dinner with Ma, I’m telling her it was your fault—“

“I want you to meet everyone!”

“I went to school with them!”

“Yeah, but they think you’re still a dick,” he says, as if they’re not standing right there. Steve is similarly engrossed in their conversation, not even noticing that Dustin’s stopped walking. 

“They can think whatever—“ he walks right into Eddie and lets out a startled oof. Eddie, who let it happen, catches him as he flails. 

“Well hello to you too,” he says, not bothering to hide his amusement. 

Steve looks at him with wide eyes, gaze dropping down to his lips before whirling around and snapping, “Henderson!”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lucas mimics under his breath, ducking behind Steve when Dustin turns around with the fury of a thousand suns in his eyes. 

He just stands there, hands on his hips as the kids bicker around him. 

“Oh, so now we can talk?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asks, brow furrowed like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s talking about. 

Eddie can’t help but laugh, a sharp sound that makes Steve jump. “What do you think it means, Harrington? You never want to talk to me in front of the kids! Don’t want to dirty your hands with the Freak in public, I guess.”

“I…what are you talking about?”

[no talkie henderosn]

“What?” His eyes get wide, panicked, as he reaches for Eddie. “Eddie, that’s not—you have to know that’s not what I meant by that. I never meant it like that!”

“Then how did you mean it?”

Steve mumbles something he can’t make out. 

“Speak up, sweetheart.” It comes out mean, he knows it does, but he’s feeling a little mean right now. Lashing out like a wounded animal just because his boyfriend didn’t want to talk to him in public. 

Actually, when he puts it that way, he remembers he’s justified. 

Steve says something again, still incomprehensible. Eddie rolls his eyes. “If you can’t stop mumbling, I’ll just leave.”

That does the trick. “I thought we were playing a prank on Henderson together!” 

Eddie gapes at him. “What?”

“I thought,” he repeats, running an anxious hand through his hair, “we were pretending not to know each other to mess with the kid. Eddie, baby, you’ve gotta know I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known you were hurting. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t I…” This can’t be real. He’s been agonizing for months, and for what? A prank? Just some stupid, shitty prank Steve thought he was in on? He’s going to jump off the quarry. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have had so much fun with that!”

“I thought you knew!”

“How would I have known? I can’t read your mind!”

“You can sometimes,” he says, pouting. Eddie wishes they weren’t in the middle of an argument, he wants to kiss those lips so bad. 

He groans into his hands. “It’s significantly easier to tell when your boyfriend wants to fuck than it is to read ‘Hey, let’s play a prank on this twelve year old,’ on someone’s face, sweetheart.”

“I guess,” Steve huffs. Then his face softens. Eddie lets himself be drawn in by the wrist, helpless in the face of his sweet smile. “We can stop,” he promises, swaying in close enough for his breath to ghost across Eddie’s lips. “We could walk into Hellfire tomorrow holding hands, if you wanted to. Anything you want, just say the word.”

“How would we walk into Hellfire? It’s at your house.”

Steve pinches him for that. 

#prank gone wrong (viral!) au #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #steddie #i Did not end up writing the actual scene where Steve decides to prank Dustin by pretending to hate eddie #But just so you know he looks at Eddie and raises his eyebrows and in Eddie’s mind he’s asking how they should play this #in Steve’s mind he’s asking a series of convoluted questions that end ideally end with Dustin ripping his hair out in frustration #Steve I’m sorry but you need to use your WORDS your boyfriend things you HATE HIM #this goes from pre-s4 to post-s4 btw #Featuring stobin being weird as fuck friends bc I feel like they would Not Be Separated for the first couple of months after Starcourt #Eddie just has to deal with that #He’s also being dramatic they eased up eventually. enough for Robin to give them space to get their rocks off anyway

[therainscene]

I’ve been enjoying the sympathetic, we-aren’t-being-shown-the-whole-story takes on Henry lately, and it’s reminded me of something I always found odd about the scene with the rabbit.

On the surface, this looks like a budding serial killer engaging in that red flag behaviour of torturing animals. We see the ensnared rabbit screaming and struggling in front of a young Henry, and older Henry tells us, “as I practiced, I realized I could do more than I possibly imagined...”

But then we see young Henry’s face... and I dunno, maybe it’s just me, but I don’t see a child torturing an animal for fun. He seems thoughtful, troubled.

What really gets me about this is older Henry’s narration over this shot: “I could reach into others, into their minds, their memories.” What does that have to do with killing a rabbit? He’s not in a mind-reading trance here, his eyes are open.

Immediately following this scene, Henry segues into telling us about his parents, how he’d reached into their minds and seen that they’d done “such awful things”. We see Victor haunted by a vision of the baby he accidentally killed. It screams like the rabbit, unable to escape its burning crib.

Here’s what I think actually happened with the rabbit:

Virginia set up traps to get rid of pests. (Victor was spooked by the dead animals around his property, so I don’t think he was involved.) Henry saw this while practicing his mind-reading, and upon investigating, found a terrified, injured rabbit. He sympathized with it; his mother viewed him as a pest, too, a problem to be solved via cruelty. He killed it to end its suffering, and soon developed a habit of mercy-killing all the animals ensnared by his mother.

I think this reading is a much better fit for Henry than “weirdo kills animals as practice for murder.” When he kills his human victims, he tells them, “it’s time for your suffering to end; it will all be over soon.”

He finds children ensnared by abuse and forced conformity. He sees them in pain, trapped in their burning cribs by cruel or foolish authority figures. He sees himself. He shows them the mercy he wishes he’d been given.

This is, of course, hypocritical. Henry has no right to decide on other people’s behalf how they should cope with their pain -- he’s turned into the same abusive authority figure he’s always railed against. He sees humanity as “a unique type of pest”, just as his mother saw him. Even his beloved spiders were kept imprisoned in jars so he could study them, just as Brenner imprisoned him in the lab.

Many abusers see themselves as victims, and they’re often right. That doesn’t justify the abuse they perpetrate, but in their own minds, they feel justified. They feel like they have no other option. That’s what makes the cycle of abuse so hard to stop.

Here’s what I find most interesting about sympathetic Henry: if he’s a demonstration of the good within evil... what does that imply about his narrative foil?

Will does not like to hurt others and he does not want to become that person. He couldn’t even shoot the Demogorgon in self-defense.

But he’s quick to hurt himself if it means helping his loved ones. He was willing to sacrifice himself in order to close the gate in S2, and he immediately bottled up his feelings to deal with the Mind Flayer in S3 despite being in the midst of a complete mental breakdown as a result of bottling his feelings up for too long.

And in S4, Will knows that his feelings are exactly what will make Mike feel better, but he’s too scared to come out or risk making his bestie feel uncomfortable, so he shills for heteronormativity and disguises his feelings as his sister’s under the assumption that’s what Mike wants to hear.

It is not what Mike wants to hear.

Mike feels pressured to lie to El. El is so distracted by his bullshit that Henry has time to kill Max. Max’s death opens the final gate.

The world ends, and Will Byers played a key role in it.

In his zeal to be a Good Celibate Gay and do no harm, he contributed to the worst harm imaginable. But he felt justified in what he was doing. He thought he had no other option than to decide on Mike’s behalf how he should feel.

Henry’s gonna have a fucking field day calling him out on that one.

Will isn’t a villain and he isn’t going to become one; the real villain in Stranger Things isn’t a person or a monster so much as the monstrous things people do. If there’s one lesson to take away from this show, I’d say it’s to remember that any of us -- even sweet, gentle, well-meaning Will Byers -- is capable of evil.

But it’s okay. Will’s internalized homophobia may have helped end the world... that just means honesty, acceptance, and love are the tools he’ll need to save it again. We’re all capable of that, too.

#stranger things #byler #henry creel #will byers #my analysis

[persage]

Drunk of Emotions-Steve Harrington

Steve Harringtonx Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: When you get drunk and reckless, you decide it's the moment to tell your boyfriend Steve Harrington that you love him, even if you don't know if he feels the same.

Words Count 2k

Tags/Warnings: None, just pure fluff and comfort, some cheesy sweet confession and a lot of Steve being Steve and - a totally alive- Eddie Munson being a good friend

(written while fighting a huge writer's block, for who needs to feel loved for a moment, enjoy)

You don't care about the bright flashing lights and music way too loud, as liquid courage flows through your veins it's easy to lose yourself on the dance floor. Even if it's not a dance flor and it's just Steve's house, all decorated for the big party. Eleven's birthday. She has waited for this moment for ages, her first real birthday party. Nobody came, just Mike and the other kids and you and Steve, Nancy and all the others, but she isn't upset as you thought, she's smiling and having fun. "I don't care, I've got my family" Family, that's what you are: beautiful big found family. You lose yourself under Hopper watchful gaze. He doesn't know how you've convinced him to let you bring alcohol near the kids-which are now something like fifteen so not kids anymore - but you did and you are way happier then your usual self. You aren't much of a dancer, but several shots of some red liquid has helped you relax as you sway your hips to the rhythm of a song you don't know, giggling every time you make eye contact with Robin or Nancy. As the song comes to an end, you grip your friends' forearms.

"I want another drink!" You shout over the music, pulling them towards the table. "Take it slow little girl!" Hopper replies, getting distracted soon by Mike's hands on Eleven's hips, bringing her closer to him.

"You don't need another." Nancy points out, but she still follows you  and she doesn't protest so much while you pour shots of something you don't know for the three of you. "I don't approve this" Nancy laughs.

"I see."Robin replies smiling sweetly at her. You don't wanna say it out loud but you've got the feeling a certain someone has feelings for a certain someone else. The three of you clink the small glasses together before raising them to your lips and throwing your heads back, allowing the liquid to leave a burning trail down your throat. "I'm going to him." You announce brightly, slamming your glass down. "I really really need him"

"Y/N, we've already talked about this!" Robin smiles. "It's always about him. You're always with him and if you are not you talk about him all the time, it's unbearable. Steve this, Steve that bla bla bla."

"Plus, Steve's having fun with the kids you should give him space" Nancy adds. Your smile vanishes away as you heard her words, maybe it's the alcol that amplify everything, but you feel her voice burning you from the inside.

"Oh that's not what I meant, it's not like that dingus wouldn't drop everything to be with her." Robin corrects her. You blush furiously, earing it from his best friend - Platonic soulmate with capital P- it's different, it's important. As you turn to watch Steve Harrington while he plays with Dustin and Max, dangersously near the pool, anticipating what they will do, you feel your head light twirling like waves. When he smiles at you from afar, pushing the poor redhead in the water, you realize how drunk you really are.

 You quickly go to the bathroom, walking fast while Nancy goes to Jonathan and Will. Suddenly you feel a man hand on your shoulder and you notice you haven't even turn the lights on and you're walking in the dark. You turn. "Stevie!" You call out, a sweet giggle leaving your lips, a flutter of butterflies through your stomach. "Oh, y/n." The voice chuckles. "This isn't..."

"Mhhh why are you laughing?"

"Y/N, I'm Eddie. Are you really this drunk?" He continues laughing, holding you by your arms to keep you steady. "I don't think I'm that drunk it's just sooo dark here." You stumble on your own feet, standing still. "Oh my god you are very very, very drunk my friend." He replies, making sure you don't fall on the ground. "Is he coming here?" You ask, with the innocence of a child. "Harrington? I don't think he's seen you coming here buddy." Eddie replies. In the dark he still can see the sadness on your face.

"But he is right outside we can go to him."

"Well, let's go!" You quickly try to run but you fall on the ground as Eddie catches you. He place his gentle hands on your shoulders and hold you in place. "Uh uh, we're gonna let you sober up a bit first." He explains, turning the lights on and seeing your lost gaze. You're totally gone.  He shakes his head. "Hopper can't see you this way and the kids too." "Mhhh I don't care. I'm okay"

"Oh no and tomorrow you'll blame me miss l/n."

"I'm blaming you now Mr Munson" You let your head fall on his shoulder.

You feel so strange, like in a state of almost childlike happiness and wonder. You couldn't help but let your mind wander to Steve Harrington, someone you can finally - after years of longing and desire- call your boyfriend, causing a cheesy grin to rise to your face. War si over, Vecna's dead and you are happy. You are together. Four months of pure fairytale.  You should have been together sooner, you've been friends for years and then you've slept together in a drunken night: sad sex, the one you do when you are alone and bored and desperate but then it had become something more, something meaningful and important. Still it took you years to finally be really together and you couldn't be more thankful with the change. "I'm going to tell him I love him." You declare, trying to convince yourself and taking courage. "You mean, now?" Eddie asks, watching you with his big eyes.

"I don't see why not." You shrug. "I love him. I think he should know."

"Y/n don't you think maybe you should wait until you're sober?"

"Oh no, no, no. Sober me is too afraid."  You reply, shaking your head, not a good idea since now you feel nausea speed in your entire body. "If it makes you feel better, it's clear he feels the same way. I mean he almost died to protect you, he... He didn't even esitate." Eddie says, caressing your head with sweetness. "He would have done it for everyone, he is a reckless stupid hero." You reply, feeling your heart beat faster only thinking about all the times you almost lost him. You know it's over but it still hurts, knowing so damn well that he'll never care for his own life like he cares about the others, know he'll be always in danger even without all the upside-down mess. "You don't get it y/n, I know you couldn't saw him cause, rember, you were kinda almost dead but I've seen that man stand fearlessly between you and an army of angry demorgons, I mean, I've seen the look in his eyes. I can recognize love when it's right in front of me" Munson explains. "You told Steve the same things about Nancy once." You state, laughing lightly to hide your fear - fear of your boyfriend releshionships with Nance, of being his second choice, of the idea while being rejected is getting clear in your head.

"I was wrong. But I swear he really loves you. He does." You're not listening anymore, you're just thinking about the possibility he doesn't feel the same way, it can happen, it's not big deal, you can still be together. How could this possibly go wrong?

Half an hour later, you're still drunk  but Eddie decides you're good  enough that he can safely walk you back to the party and maybe leave in you in the safe arms of your boyfriend. "Wait here" He says, while you stand on the door, your head still spinning. "Harrington" He shouts, walking toward him. "Stop playing and go to your girlfriend, she needs you" He states, while Steve goes out of the pool, hating himself cause he haven't noticed your absence. Stupid, shitty boyfriend.

"Is she alright?" He asks, running to you, still wet.

"Yes lover boy, she's just fine go to her." Eddie replies. When Steve's finally near you, you jump on him nearly sending him tumbling over, not caring about drops of water running down his hair and all over his body.

"Stevie!" You kiss him, a laughter leaving his lips. "So you really are fine" He says, fingers running in your hair. "Sorry if I wasn't there." You kiss his cheeks. "Don't worry baby" He glances at Hopper and gestures that he will take you up to his room, so he guides you inside the house, bending down at a slightly awkward angle to eat your all face with kisses. You smile at the feeling his lips left behind. Holding your hand he leads you upstairs.

"Your hand is so warm." Steve brings your interlaced fingers up and examine them.  His grip on you  is  firm but sweet. He uses your conjoined hands to pull you closer to him, causing you to stumble slightly. "Maybe I'm a little high but I swear you're more beautiful than ever." He looks down at you dreamily, as if you really are the most perfect thing he has ever laid his eyes on. "What have I done to deserve you?" You pretend to think about it "It must have been some miracle."

"You're joking and I know it but y/n it's totally true." You realize you're right in front of Steve's room. Nerves began to bubble in your stomach the closer you get, you wanna tell him you love him, you wanna make love to him. He presses a kiss to the side of your temple, causing a dopey smile to rise on your face. As you enter his room, he tries to catch up to you taking you by your waist, You turn again to him and pull Steve in by his collar, dragging him all the way to the bed, dropping down onto it. He presses your lips together in a kiss. You tangle your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as possible as he presses your back against the mattress. He moves away first, leaving you in lovesick bliss. He lays beside and for a few moments that feels like eternity, you tangle in each other's arms and his heartbeat is the only sound you can ear, a melody, a rhythmic beautiful sound. It's time. If there's a perfect moment in this world then it's now, alone with the love of your life in his room full of his scent and his dreams and all the perfect things he is and will be. You stare at the ceiling. He moves, lifts your head to rest in his lap, his hand lightly rubbing up and down your cheeks. "Sleep if you want love." He says You shake your head. "I wanna watch you" You reply, eyes full of emotion ads you admire his strong features. "Can't stay away from me y/n?" He  teases you lightly.

"Can you blame me?" You are so serious it makes his chest warm with devotion and affection. Your words causes familiar butterflies to erupt in his stomach, his smile widening even further. He feel the words come out of his mouth, he needs to tell you that his days are  a darker when you are not around - and not even Robin or Dustin can help him- and you can make him laugh even when he wants nothing more than to cry and, even better, he can cry in front of you, he can be weak and you will still see him as a superhero, he doesn't even know why. Maybe it's just cause you are special. He  wants to tell you that he no longer sleeps when you are not around and he hugs one of the shirts you have left in his room when he misses you and he wants to confess you that he always seems to find something that made him think of you no matter where he is. If he's walking on a stupid boring road or even working he will find pieces of you everywhere. "y/n would like it" "y/n would say that" "y/n would do this" . But Steve Harrington is no good at words, they are trapped on his tongue and he simply presses his lips to your. It's not enough. Steve kisses you passionately. His lip glides along your bottom lip as his hands found your hips, steadying your movements. When you knock your teeth together in the drunken kiss, you both pull back for a moment.

  "I think I'm love with you Steve" You confess and once again he is amazed by the way you can do everything he can't, saying evert word he couldn't come up with, crossing every border he is scared of. You are way braver than him, you are his warrior, his polar star. You are home. He does not reply immediately, he just stares at you with those big deep eyes, and you can't understand what he is thinking. You are scared. Maybe it was a big mistake.

"Sorry I didn't... I didn't mean it."

"No." He whispers. "No" He takes your trembling hands. "You mean it. I know you do." He hugs you, his heart bursts. He can't look at your expression now but he know it  matches his own- a mask of emotions and desire, terror and all the stupid things people feel when they are in love, when they understand they're life does not belong to them anymore, but to someone else. For a moment, when he still doesn't talk, you think you've flown too close to his sun, waiting for the wax to melt away from your wings and crush you down to reality. But it never comes. Instead it comes the warmth of Steve'saffection,  his trembling lips on your head.

" I Love you y/n... I love you too"

#stranger things #steve harrington #stranger things 4 #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington angst #jim hopper #eddie munson #st4 #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve and robin #steve stranger things #stranger things x you #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine

[andiwriteordie]

Mike and Will get locked in the school library and have to wait until morning for the doors to open up, perhaps?

ok so not gonna lie, i am getting sleepy (lol me projecting by writing mike's sleepy self in the library), but listen, this one was SO fun. a little modern byler au here, set during their senior year of high school. featuring every byler's favorite poem by richard siken (starts at 19:54 on the link).

—

with a beautiful boy

“What if nobody finds us in here, Will?”

Will blinks, and he rolls over to look at his best friend in amusement. “There’s school tomorrow, Mike,” he reminds dryly. “First thing in the morning, Ms. Jean’s gonna come in and realize we’re in here, and we’ll get lectured or get detention or something for being stuck in here. But they’re gonna find us.”

Mike hums, and he lazily reaches for one of the books—one with a black and white picture of a man’s mouth and hand, titled CRUSH. He opens it up, absently thumbing through the pages; then, without saying another word, he sets the book on top of his face.

“Do you think if I just… let these books sit on my head I’ll absorb all their information through osmosis or something?” Mike asks, his voice muffled by the book on top of his face, and Will just snorts.

“I think you need to sleep,” Will corrects, nudging his best friend’s shoulder. “It’s 2 AM, Mike. If you’re tired, you should sleep. I told you I didn’t mind staying up alone.”

“And I told you,” Mike says stubbornly, “that if you’re staying up, then I’m staying up too. Besides, it’s kind of fun. You know I get stupid when I haven’t slept in a while.”

Once again, Will snorts, and he reaches over, lifting the book off Mike’s face. “You said it,” Will deadpans. “Not me.”

A soft laugh escapes Mike’s lips, and he closes his eyes, letting out a quiet sigh. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice a little sleepy. “I know I did.”

“Mike,” Will laughs softly, nudging his best friend again. “If you’re tired, go to sleep.”

Mike lifts his middle finger up. “Don’t tell me what t’do, Byers,” he grumbles. “I’m fine.”

Will rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.”

Mike just hums softly, and he taps his fingers absently against the carpeted floor of the library. “Hey, Will?”

“Hm?”

“Will you read to me?” Mike says, his voice soft, and Will blinks, looking at his best friend curiously.

“You want me to read to you?” Will repeats, just trying to make sure he heard Mike correctly. 

“Mhm.” Mike nods. 

“What, like a bedtime story or something?” Will asks dryly. “Is that what this is?”

“No,” Mike huffs, opening one eye and sticking his tongue out at Will. “I just… like your voice a lot. It’s pretty. So… you should read to me.”

Warmth rises to Will’s cheeks, and he looks away quickly, lest Mike see the stupid blush on his face. Yeah, Mike is definitely loopy right now, since he’s saying stuff like this. There’s no way in hell Mike would say any of this if he was in the right mind. He has no idea what he’s talking about.

Maybe a bedtime story would be good for him.

“Fine,” Will sighs reluctantly. “What do you want me to read?”

Once again, Mike hums. “Just read the book I grabbed,” he mumbles. “The one you’re holding right now.”

“Okay, okay,” Will sighs, and he sits up, absently flipping through the book and trying to find a poem that stands out to him. 

Finally, one of the poems jumps out to him, and Will swallows the lump in his throat. He… he can’t help but think back to the summer road trip he and the other Party members had gone on, just a couple months ago. The memory of sneaking away in the morning before the others had woken up and riding in the passenger seat of Mike’s car along the coastline feels burned into Will’s memory, and this poem feels like that memory—as if the poet tore open Will’s heart and mind and used his thoughts as inspiration.

“You’re in a car with a beautiful boy,” Will begins to read softly, “and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you. And you feel like you've done something terrible, like robbed a liquor store, or swallowed pills, or shoveled yourself a grave in the dirt, and you're tired.”

Mike hums softly, and Will glances at his best friend, a tiny smile on his face. “You’re in a car with a beautiful boy,” Will continues, “and you're trying not to tell him that you love him, and you're trying to choke down the feeling, and you're trembling, but he reaches over and he touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist…”

Will’s heart pounds inside his chest, and he takes a shaky breath, staring down at the words. “And you feel your heart taking root in your body,” he murmurs, “like you've discovered something you don't even have a name for.”

Once Will finishes reading the poem, the library goes silent. Neither one of them says a word, and all Will can do is stare at the words, reading them over and over again.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you.

…

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him.

...

And you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

“Hey, Will?” Mike murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

Will swallows the lump in his throat, and he lowers the book, so he can look at his best friend. “Yeah?” he whispers back.

Mike’s eyes are still close, and he absently traces his finger across the carpet. “Have you ever felt like that before?” he asks softly, and Will’s brow furrows.

“Like… what?” Will asks hesitantly.

“Like how the poet did when he wrote that,” Mike answers without hesitation. His voice is still soft, and it grows even softer when he adds, “‘Cause… ‘cause I have.”

Will’s breath catches. He glances back down at the book. The words jump off the page at him.

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and he won’t tell you that he loves you, but he loves you.

“Yeah,” Will whispers back, hesitantly looking back up. “I… I have too.”

You’re in a car with a beautiful boy, and you’re trying not to tell him that you love him.

A tiny smile forms on Mike’s face, and he opens his eyes, looking sleepily at Will. “You should tell me about it sometime,” he whispers. “And I’ll tell you too… when I’m less sleepy. ‘Cause I… I don’t wanna wake up and realize this was a dream.”

There’s something so tender in Mike’s eyes, and Will can’t help but smile. “Okay,” he says softly, nodding at his best friend. “We can tell each other about… about what we’re thinking about, when you’re less sleepy. Deal?”

“Deal,” Mike promises, yawning softly. “I… I’m gonna sleep now. ‘m sorry.”

Will can’t help but laugh. “It’s okay,” he reassures. “Get some rest. I’ll wake you up before school starts.”

The smile on Mike’s face grows. “G’night, Will,” he mumbles, and he closes his eyes once more.

“Goodnight, Mike,” Will whispers back.

Within moments, Mike is fast asleep, and Will exhales, looking back down at the poetry book in his hands. His eyes land on the last lines of the poem, and Will can’t help but smile.

And you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.

#andi's asks #byler #byler ficlet #andi writes not dies #okay so my personal headcanon for this ficlet is that #mike intentionally grabbed this book #having already read this poem will reads #and he does it in hopes of will reading that poem too #bc mike has that same feeling that will does about their little summertime car ride #ANYWHO.

[starmanbyler]

thinking about how there were two examples of unrequited love/crush in stranger things (dustin/max and steve/robin) and how they were handled delicately yet quickly and easily in the same season they were introduced.

dustin has a crush on max when he first sees her in s2 but quite quickly he gets over it when he realised how well her and lucas work together. he goes on to get a girlfriend the next season so he’s obviously not dwelling over it. if the byler/mileven love triangle was handled the same way that max, dustin and lucas’ was then wills unrequited feeling would be much more plausible.

in s3 when we’re introduced to robin steve also has a crush on her and dustin points this out. the difference here is that it’s not really a love triangle, but an example of unrequited feelings because of someone’s sexuality. not long after steve starts to develop feelings for robin she comes out to him and he accepts her, they move on and stay friends. while all this is happening wills has feelings for mike but it isn’t commented on, nobody draws attention to it. it’s supposed to be subtle and gradual. it’s literally just slow burn and i’m surprised it’s not more obvious to the general audience.

the difference with byler is that will’s crush has been dragged out for at least the last two or three seasons and there still hasn’t been any resolution or response from mike and/or el. not only would it be heartbreaking to put will through all of that yearning for years just for him to get rejected, but also it narratively makes no sense. all of the development of their relationship, especially in season four, was for nothing? if will’s feelings were unrequited, then season 4 or preferably season 3 would be the right time to show this. not in the final season. especially when he’s supposed to finally be getting his ‘happy ending’. he’s been through so much suffering, being ‘rejected by mike but being accepted for being gay’ is not gonna cut it for a happy ending. will is miserable; if he’s getting a happy ending it’s gonna be something that will surprise him and change his life. it will be something that subverts his negative self-perception and doubts. you know what would do exactly that? mike reciprocating his feelings.

it’s not just about will either. it’s important for his own self-acceptance but mike’s too. especially even. mike is the most repressed when it comes to his feelings and his sexuality and it would be incredibly important for him to come to terms with that and what better way than to accept himself and his feelings by confessing to will? also, el and mike don’t have a good relationship: they have nothing in common, don’t know each other very well, and struggle to communicate with each other. they don’t feel like they can be themselves around each other.

i don’t like when people act like it’s as surface level as whether or not mike is gay and if ‘he’s shown any evidence of being attracted to men’ because it’s a lot deeper than that. people say it’s nothing more than platonic when it’s been shown again and again how different their relationship is to their relationships with the rest of the party.

plus how can anyone have watched season 4 and said he has no signs of attraction to guys?? were we even watching the same show?

like girl wtf 😭

#byler #byler meta #byler analysis #stranger things #stranger things analysis #byler is requited #will byers #anti mileven

[undersilverlake]

ok idea for eddie where the hellfire club hates her and she over heard because she was dropping something off for him and then starts to distance herself? but also a happy ending?

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

A/N: Thank you so much for sending me this request, I love challenging myself with writing angst since I don’t find it easy, but I hope that you enjoy what I have written. Also in my head the friends who are mean to the reader don’t include Mike and Dustin.

The rest of the students had left the school hours ago, leaving the corridors abandoned and airily quiet as you made your way to the theatre department where Eddie held the Hellfire Club.

In your hand you clutched Eddie’s tin box, which he had accidentally left in your car, and you knew he would need it in case he was making any deals tonight after the game.

When you reached the theatre department, you realised that they had left the door to their “game room” open because you could hear voice as you got closer with each step. You weren’t particularly paying attention to anything they were saying until the mention of your name stopped you in your tracks.

“She’s with Eddie all the time. It’s like they’re attached at the hip.”

“Doesn’t she have any of her own friends to hangout with?”

“I doubt it, she is way too annoying.”

“What does Eddie even see in her?”

“We can’t even talk about D&D at lunch anymore without her asking him to explain the game again to her for the millionth time and the idiot still doesn’t get it.”

You felt your stomach sink into a deep pit as you listened to Eddie’s friends express their true feelings towards you.

Suddenly you felt incredibly self conscious as you recalled all the times the group had been discussing the latest campaign and you would ask Eddie to explain certain bits to you. The way his eyes lit up and the corners of his lips lifted into an excited smile as he recited information about a particular character was one of your favourite sights.

Despite the fact you held little interest in the game, you could’ve happily listened to Eddie talk to you about it for hours, absolutely fascinated by the way he would talk and dramatically imitate the characters.

You felt the tickle of tears gather on your waterline, which only left you feeling even more pathetic that their words had brought you to tears.

You quickly turned on your heel to leave but slammed straight into a hard chest, almost making you lose your balance but secure hands gently gripped your arms to steady you.

“Woah, careful.” Eddie softly chuckled with a kind smile, however his eyes quickly widened with concern when he caught the sight of tears in your eyes. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

You bowed your head to avoid his gaze as he tried to see if you were visibly hurt and you pushed his tin box into his chest, with more force than you realised, in an attempt to divert his attention away from you.

“You left this in my car. I just came here to return it.” You quickly told him, before you tried to walk past him but he gently caught your wrist in his hand to halt you.

“Hey,” he whispered, “what’s going on? Did I do something to upset you?”

Your chest tightened, you could practically feel Eddie’s concerned doe eyes burning into your skin, as you continued to avoid them.

“I’m just not feeling very well,” you lied and attempted to step away again but Eddie followed you.

“Let me give you a ride home,” Eddie offered.

“No.” You responded abruptly, almost making Eddie flinch in shock, “no,” you repeated more gently and even attempted to offer him a reassuring smile. “You have a game to get to. I’ll be fine.”

“I can postpone, the boys will understand.” Eddie reasoned and you had to disguise your scoff with a cough.

“I said I’ll be fine.” You repeated more sternly, causing a deep furrow to settle between Eddie’s brows as he silently watched you walk away with his wide-eyed worried gaze.

“See you tomorrow?” You heard him shout after you in a tone that made it sound more like a question, but you didn’t reply as you wouldn’t have been able to disguise the tremble of tears in your voice.

The next day at school you didn’t meet Eddie in the parking lot like you usually did every morning, instead you went straight to your first class.

At lunchtime you caught Eddie’s eye in the dinner hall, he smiled and sat up straighter as he saw you walking towards him, you offered him a small smile as you walked straight past his table and instead sat down with some people you knew from Science.

You didn’t see the way Eddie’s shoulders slumped and his face dropped with confusion as he spent the rest of his lunch break watching you from across the dinner hall, wondering what he had done wrong.

That evening you were curled up in bed watching a film you had rented from the video store, you startled when you heard a gentle knocking on your bedroom window and immediately got out of bed to investigate.

“Eddie?” you gasped when you pulled your curtains apart to find your boyfriend balancing precariously on the garage roof and quickly slid your window open to help pull him into your room.

A few curse words were spoken under his breath, alongside some groans of discomfort as he tumbled onto your carpeted floor.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You chastised him once he was safely in your room.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie immediately apologised, as he reached for your hands which hung loosely by your sides and gathered them in his own which he brought to his chest as he rose to his feet in front of you. “I’m so sorry for whatever I did to upset you, but I needed to see you because I need to know what I did wrong so I can fix it because it’s driving me absolutely crazy.”

You stared at Eddie with a slack jaw as you found yourself completely lost for words. The only sounds that filled you room was the noise of your TV as the film continued to play in the background and Eddie’s pants as he was still recovering from climbing up to your window while he patiently waited for your answer.

“What are you talking about?” You finally asked him and he looked at you as if you had grown a second head.

“What am I talking about?” He repeated exasperatedly, “you’ve been avoiding me all day.”

“I… I wasn’t avoiding you.” You answered in denial, but you couldn’t look him in the eye as you said it. You had convinced yourself that Eddie needed some space, you were doing it for him, you didn’t want him to end up getting annoyed by you just like his friends had. “I just thought you would want to spend some time alone with your friends, without me there...” …ruining it, You thought to yourself but didn’t let that part pass your lips.

Eddie didn’t seem satisfied by your answer as he stepped towards you and placed a finger under your chin to lift your gaze back to his own before he moved his hand to stroke some hair away from your face.

“What on Earth made you think that I didn’t want to spend time with you?” Eddie tilted his head and tried to gently coax the truth from you because he knew that these thoughts didn’t originate out of thin air.

You bit your lip realising you had said too much. You didn’t want to tell Eddie what you had overheard his friends say about you, the last thing you wanted was to cause any drama, you just wanted to move on and forget all about it. But you knew that wouldn’t be possible if every time you spent time with Eddie around his friends you’d be worrying about annoying them anymore than you already had.

“Sometimes… sometimes I think we spend too much time together.” You winced at the tightness of your chest as you lied through your teeth, you would spend every moment with Eddie if you could, but you didn’t want to be selfish.

“At school, you should hangout with your friends and I should hangout with mine. We can spend time together on evenings and weekends.” You tried to come up with a solution to the problem, but this only seemed to confuse Eddie further until his eyes widened with realisation and your heart sank as were convinced he had figured out what had happened.

“Are… are you ashamed of being seen with me?” Eddie dropped your hands and pulled away from you while that empty pit in your stomach opened up again and your chest tightened with panic as you frantically reached for Eddie’s hand afraid that he would leave if you weren’t holding onto him.

“No,” you softly chanted as you closed the gap between the both of you, “I could never. I just–” you groaned in frustration and even though you could see he was having an internal battle with himself, Eddie softened again and offered you a silent look that let you know you could tell him anything.

With a deep breath you closed your eyes.

“Yesterday, before I bumped into you in front of the Hellfire Club, I overheard your friends talking about me.” You swallowed thickly and pushed down your guilt, you felt as though you were doing something wrong by telling Eddie about what his friends said but deep down you knew he had a right to know. “They said I spend too much time with you and it’s annoying when I ask you questions about D&D.”

You saw a flash of anger flash over Eddie’s features, as his eyes hardened and his jaw clenched, before it was quickly washed away the second his eyes reconnected with yours.

“That’s why you were upset,” he whispered, more to himself than you, but you offered him a small nod anyway and you frowned when you realised that Eddie almost looked ashamed with himself. “How did I not realise?”

“You weren’t to know,” you assured him and cradled his face in your palms as you rested your forehead against his and closed your eyes, “I just… I don’t want to ruin your friendships.”

Eddie pulled his face away from yours, “look at me,” he told you and you opened your eyes again to be greeted by his kind yet stern gaze, “you haven’t ruined anything, do you hear me? I’m going to talk to them about what they said and whatever happens, it isn’t your fault. They shouldn’t have talked about you like that, it’s disrespectful and I won’t have friends who disrespect someone I love.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his confession.

“Love?” You repeated in such a quiet voice you barely heard yourself, but Eddie heard you and nodded as a smile he could barely contain lifted his face.

“I love you too.” You confessed, suddenly feeling as light as a feather now that the troubles and worries that had been weighing you down all day had evaporated as Eddie envelope you into his tattooed arms and left a lingering kiss on your temple.

#eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson

[mike-haters-dni]

GIMMIE THE FUTURE MIKE HCS I BEG

oh boy here we go time to dig through my adopted oc's lore

The first thing you notice about post-coming-of-age Mike is that he holds his face a lot more softly. The teenage angst has burned away and revealed the tender, affectionate (and sometimes vaguely sad) core it was protecting. Make no mistake, the judgy bitch will still come out if the situation calls for it, but he no longer approaches every social interaction assuming the other person is going to hate him. Turns out he can actually be pretty charismatic when he doesn't feel the need to be a dick in preemptive self-defense.

The low self-esteem never completely goes away but it does diminish to the point where he can occasionally believe people actually like him and maybe he deserves to be happy. He even gets to the place where he can accept most compliments, except if you specifically imply he is either kind or attractive, which he will reflexively scoff at. The two things he can never truly believe about himself 😔. El finds this endlessly frustrating ofc.

During high school, Mike is the first one to get a car (birthday present from his rich parents) so it becomes his job to carpool everyone to school, as well as drive El anywhere she wants to go at any time. idk anything about cars but its black and pretty nice (Karen is absolutely treating her kids after they almost died in a monster war) and Mike lowkey mostly agrees to favors because he likes driving it around so much.

Actually no one else but Lucas gets a car bc why go through the hassle when you can just barge into Wheeler residence at any time and guilt Mike into driving you. He does have a driving toll however, and that is maintaining full control of the stereo, which he uses to blast hair metal.

(El fucking hates hair metal but she's too nice to admit that to Mike, who eventually figures that out on his own after seeing her visibly tense up whenever he plays it. She never fully admits to hating it but she also doesn't really deny it when he says that she obviously does. This also applies to 90's Mike getting into grunge)

The only reason El graduates high school is because Mike absolutely insists that she can and acts as her personal (unrelenting) tutor for the last half of 12th grade (love her but she's really not good at school), despite her best efforts to persuade him to just let her give up because "Did you know that you can legally drop out of school at 18?" ("Yes, but having a GED is really important if you want any opportunities in life." "…See I don't even know what that is." ":/") Luckily, Mike is a talented and very passionate Explainer of Things and took all the classes she's in last year (he's in AP classes now obv) so it all works out, though after she passes her last final she makes him swear to never ask her another math problem again.

After high school he tries to go to college for writing but ends up mysteriously losing the ability to focus on anything or be creative, which causes him to not do any assignments so he starts avoiding going to class out of shame. He rationalizes this as him being tired of school and not needing to go to school for a creative endeavor anyway haha (true), and he ends up dropping out. (Unfortunately, this is just the start of the college/post-college plot line, which is the gang all getting hit full force with the ptsd induced by the Everything upon entering adulthood but uh we don't have to get into that here hehe)

After (attempting) college, Mike and El (who get married at 18 ofc) move to Chicago and Mike gets a boring job as an editor or something just as an attempt to get a career going, but soon quits that as well bc if you're keeping up with the lore you'll remember that El is getting paid restitution by the government so neither of them actually have to work and he really doesn't like working a boring job just to attempt getting a career going. He then spends the next few years working ("working" sometimes) on personal projects, the main one being a sci-fi novel and, eventually, dming at a local game shop, where he becomes a bit of a local geek celebrity for his excellent dming skills and being a generally cool guy. His original campaigns and one-shots are particularly popular, and people keep suggesting that he start distributing them or maybe even sending something to TSR? Hmmm... not something Mike ever thought about doing but he does have the easiest time and most fun coming up with dnd stuff...no way that could be a real career path could it...hmm.....

Seriously tho Mike is like a master dm. You can ask him any obscure question about anything in the game and he can answer instantly with perfect accuracy. And like any passionate gamer he has many Opinions about the editions and a whole set of house rules he runs his games by.

I wasn't originally going to have him and El have kids but then I imagined Mike telling interactive bedtime stories to his 5-year-old daughter and idk man I think that has to exist. Its not until they're like early 30's tho. Also her name is Ava.

#phew i did it #this is a pretty long post but i still feel like ive barely scratched the surface idk #hes a vivid entity in my mind what can i say #ty for asking btw :) i very appreciate the excuse to Post #mileven

[memes-saved-me]

I'm sick so here's something from August I love and find satisfying. Tw: child abuse referenced and some violence

"Billy's papa is bad," she said and for the first time in about 30 minutes Steve actually heard what the group of kids in his back seat were saying. He watched the reactions of the others through the rear view mirror as the car went quiet. "He hurt him."

That hit Steve right in the chest, his stomach dropped. Unsure what to do he turned on the radio, something Mike and Will seemed very thankful for but when he pulled up outside the Wheeler's and waved to Mike he didn't drive as fast as usual.

Once a street or so away he turned the stereo dial back down. "What was it you were saying about Billy?"

"I just mentioned how we should check in on Max because she seems distant after what happened," Will replied.

"You said something about his dad," Steve pushed a little more. "About his dad hurting him."

"When I went into Billy's head I saw his mom. She was just like him but she left him and his papa hurt him," Eleven answered with a hint of tears in her voice.

"How?" he asked hesitantly.

"He hit him. A lot. Billy was angry because he was scared."

Steve took a deep breath as everything snapped into place and then nodded, turning the dial back up and pushing the speed limit so he could drop them off and then deal with whatever was screaming inside his chest. He smiled and waved to the two of them as they opened the front door to their home but the second it closed he broke.

Sobs erupting as he clung to the steering wheel. Overwhelmed by the guilt, his heart ripping in two all over again as he realised it all made sense.

All those bruises and scars, the hisses when his hands brushed over raw skin or fractured ribs. The look he got when Steve asked what happened. How he rushed off in the night to get home before the morning or the hushed cries in the dark when they had sex.

Why hadn't he found out? Pushed for an answer or told him he wouldn't tell, make him feel safe enough to say something. He could have helped. Done something. Changed everything if only he had known.

He wanted to scream but instead he pulled out of the driveway, turning to go home when he paused. Pulled over and thought about everything all at once.

Whatever they had been was messy, unsure and complicated but that didn't stop it from hurting. Burning a hole in Steve's chest as he dealt with a secret no one else knew. Mourning for someone everyone believed he disliked but in reality some days he thought he might have been in love with the bastard but that was now an unanswered question.

Yet, that anger began to fester in his stomach. Twist and choke him until he was speeding through Hawkins knowing exactly where he was going. When he pulled up outside he saw that truck Billy would turn tale and hide from parked around the back so he turned off his engine.

If he was honest he didn't know what he was going to do as his finger pushed the bell. Hands shaking waiting for someone to answer but when the door swung open to reveal the man he had thought about murdering the entire ride there he acted on emotion.

Without thinking about it at all his fist met Neil Hargrove's nose sending the grown man stumbling backwards into his own coffee table. The shock on his face as he looked at Steve being enough to send him into some sort of self righteous rage.

"Who do you think you are?" he rushed at Steve, nose bleeding but he was too quick. Before he could even touch him Steve had him on the ground staring up at him.

"Do you even know who I am?" Steve kicked him in the chest to keep him down. "Do you know who my father is? What my family can do to you? I'll make sure everyone in this town knows what you did."

"Don't you dare threaten me," his eyes were seething, ready to choke Steve out and bury his body in the woods but he couldn't get up. Everytime he tried Steve was there to stop him.

"You're a piece of shit and I want you gone. I want you out of this town or I'll make your life a living hell. No job, no home and no happy little family when I'm done. I will ruin you."

He stepped back glancing for a split second to see he was close enough to the door to make a run for it if needed but Neil didn't move. That was when he saw the open door of Billy's room, boxed piled around his bed. Something he thought might calm him but instead only enraged him.

"You better make some sorry excuse to leave. Alone. Leave Max and her mother and go. Get the fuck out of here and if I ever see your pathetic child beating ass around here again I'll finish this."

He didn't wait for a response. He turned and closed the door behind him, fist aching as he stretched his fingers and checked the marks on his knuckles. Car keys ready and back in the ignition to take off before someone saw him.

A deep satisfaction washing over him as the tears started again. He couldn't help Billy but he wasn't going to let that bastard get away with what he did, even if he was going to call the cops Steve didn't care. His family lawyers would sort that and most importantly he would tell them why he went there in the first place. He couldn't just sit and let him pretend as if Billy never existed.

Billy deserved justice for so many things but Steve couldn't fight the Mindflayer but he could get the other monster that hurt the boy he now missed more than most.

#Harringrove #Steve gets some revenge

[pholiabanna]

Sloppy seconds byler aren’t endgame angels with a nightmare is a fool a 25+ year old women with fantasies about teen boys being gay how’s that any different to men’s fantasies about lesbians?

Y’all are so caught up in you’re echo chambers you can’t see it and it’s gonna crash and burn so badly it’s not the byler show either it’s stranger things

Omg I feel so honored to get my first real hate ask!

There's so many things to unpack here, so I think Im gonna go one by one.

First of all, I assume you either ship Mleven or at least you despise byler, but my last post was only tagged as byler so there was no reason for you to see it unless you were stalking the byler tag, which in that case I'm glad you're such a dedicated fan!

Second of all, I'm assuming you're the same anon who has been sending around other anon asks the past couple of weeks always mentioned the words "sloppy seconds". Now, I know nothing about you or about your life enough to tell you what you should or shouldn't do, but I think I'd should let you know how disgusting of a term that is, and what it implies. I'm assuming if you like Mileleven you like Mike too, since he's one half of the ship. That's why it's shocking to me how you seem so adamant of thinking of him as nothing but El's leftovers, as if he wasn't his own person with his self worth! Also, someone's worth doesn't lessen just because they've already been kissed or touched by someone else. That's a sad outlook on life, and I'm not telling you to be mean, but because I think you'll live happier if you leave such toxic mentalities behind. They really do no good to someone's self esteem.

About the women fantasies about gay men, please notice how most people in this tag are underage people of all genders. This is not a sexual fantasy, as these characters aren't even portrayed sexually in the show to begin with. This is people who want to see good stories about themselves being written, and I think that's a really valid thing to wish for. Even if you've seen a couple weirdos out there on the internet, that's not the case for almost the whole of the fanbase. There's creepy people everywhere in every fandom. Also may I add that if you prefer Mike and El (which is completely valid if you do, you're allowed to have your preferences!) they are the same age as Mike and Will. Wouldn't you be predatory as well if you ship them? No you wouldn't, because they're kids and their relationship has never been sexual. Just like with Will and Mike. Assuming that every gay romance is automatically sexual is a very homophobic mindset ingrained in our society. If you really see gay people this way, probably you've been conditioned by society to do so, in that case it's not your fault but it's never too late to educate yourself. You'll be happier, seriously.

Finally, I wouldn't say an echo chamber is a ship community that has more Billions of wievs on TikTok that the other ship and surpasses it on every other platform, and that has general audience filmmakers and professional writers say themselves that they also understand how it's set up to happen in the final season. But again, it is not my job to convince you and you're not forced to change your mind. We will all have to wait until the final season to see who was actually right, only the Duffer brothers know what will happen.

Finally, Stranger Things is obviously not the byler show. However, one of the most important rules of storytelling is writing personal arcs and relationships for the characters to serve as subplots to the main story, so that the characters become full fleshed and realistic. The fact that you can relate to fictional characters, even though you've probably never time travelled done magic, lived in a post apocalyptic time or wathever you wanna imagine, is because you relate to their personal stories. A story isn't good without personal arcs, every professional writer you ask will tell you this. So yes, relationships are an episode aspect of stranger things that people can discuss if they want to. And the byler tag, or any other ship tags exists precisely to focus on those relationships. It doesn't mean that people don't like any other aspects of the show.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed my little rant anon. I wish you have a great day!

#byler #hate asks #anti mileven

[ohfallingdisco]

heyy, here’s a little 1070-ish word self-indulgent thing about mike and nancy and the vanishing of (sibling) wheeler! sorry! i couldn’t stop myself! hope you enjoy, you get this first, ao3 gets it in the morning if I have the will to format by then lmao hope you like

“BULLSHIT!” 

Mike sensed, more than heard, Nancy slam the door behind them. The glass rattled bad, but no one followed them out, so at least there was that. He made it to the edge of the porch, and Nancy’s hand fisted in the back of his shirt, yanking him back. 

“Stupid little shit,” she groused, steering him to the stairs (which he hadn’t realized he was about five feet from) and marching him down. He shrugged her off as soon as it wouldn’t damage his windpipe, and barely held off from damaging some other part of his body by elbowing her. The memory of what had just happened was still too fresh. 

Nancy apparently agreed, letting slip a little huff as she marched off into the woods. Mike followed her, at a respectful distance, anger still burning white-hot and blinding behind his temples. He was getting a headache. 

Either she comes back alive, or Holly is already…

Murray was going to burn for that. Mike was going to burn him. He had to drag him into the Upside Down, and leave him there tied to a tree. Several trees, in pieces. That was his fucking little sister, damn it…

All of a sudden, Nancy screamed, at the top of her lungs, and turned to kick a tree. She flailed when she bounced back, running smack into Mike’s chest and nearly knocking them both over. He managed to stay standing, pushing her back the other way to counter the momentum, and that had Nancy whirling and grabbing his arm. 

Except, she wasn’t mad. She was strangling his bicep like an evil snake, but her face was more…lost. 

Mike was speechless. He didn’t know what to do with this sister acting like this. 

Gently, Nancy ran her fingers through his hair, ruffling his curls gently. “Idiot,” she scolded, but it was quiet. “Watch your step.” 

Mike bit his lip. “Your mouth moves too much when you talk,” he bit back, not sure why. 

She smiled, suddenly, and her whole face lit up. His sister’s eyes crinkled, an old trait, and something in his chest caught. 

Their sister was out there, alone, alive, somewhere, she was too little, she was still just a baby…

He knew his face must’ve crumpled, because Nancy was pulling him into a hug. Her arms wound around his back, fingers clawing into his favorite blue sweater. 

Mike let himself accept the hug, sinking into her shoulder with a quiet, shaky breath. She held him for a while, almost like she didn’t want to let go. He let himself believe that was true. That, maybe—even though he was a lot more of a pest, and definitely a pain—his big sister still loved him sort of like he loved Holly. 

“We’ll get her back, Mike,” Nancy promised, her nails digging into him even harder. “You and me, and everyone else. He can just go fuck himself.”

Mike hissed a laugh. “That’s gay,” he joked, earning a sharp pinch to the ribs. He jerked back, glaring, but she was returning the glare. 

“Michael,” Nancy stressed, “we agreed.” 

“Agreed what?” He wracked his brain, trying to remember. 

Oh. Nancy had told him something funny earlier? Well. Implied. 

Mike just rolled his eyes. 

She blew out a sharp huff, shoulders slumping. “No more reasons to draw attention, Mike. If you can’t be nice about—gay people, can’t you at least pretend?”

“Fine,” he agreed, folding his arms. “I’m not not nice, Nancy. But fine.” 

“We need to be on the same page,” she stressed, backing off easily. “Just be nice. For Holly.” 

“For Holly,” he agreed, glancing off into the trees. 

They were nice trees. Pretty. Strong. He wondered if it would hurt to kick one. 

“Don’t,” Nancy muttered, and Mike hadn’t even seen her mouth move. He glanced over. She was frowning, a little. “Limbs to yourself.” 

He wanted to laugh. That was awfully hypocritical of her, after just giving him a hug, but he understood. He thought. “I wasn’t going to,” he argued, but Nancy just crossed her arms. 

“Of course not,” she agreed, because that was what she always did. 

Nancy—this was Nancy, and Holly was gone, but they would find her. Together, with their friends, they were going to rescue her, and then the three Wheeler brother and sisters were going to live out the rest of their days in relative quiet. He and Nancy were always going to pull each others’ hair, get on each others’ last nerve over nothing, but she was his big sister. They were both usually going to get along with Holly, but she was so much younger than them, and it was sort of easy to pull her along in that he knew he was only lovingly getting judged. 

Mike loved them, he couldn’t stand them, sometimes he couldn’t stand to see them succeed. But he needed his sister back in a way that felt like a hole was constantly burning through his chest. 

“We’ll get her back,” he breathed, assuring himself as much as anyone. “She’s okay. If she wasn’t, Will would have felt it.” 

Nancy gave him a funny look, but she didn’t say anything. 

“Come on,” she said instead, turning to head back to the house. But not to the cabin. To their house. 

“Is this a good idea?” he said dryly, even as his heart jumped. 

“I don’t give a shit,” Nancy assured him, weaving her way through the forest. 

Mike decided to follow. He still didn’t feel like going back, yet, and walking out their anger would probably do them good. Besides, they could look for clues, on the way. 

“Nance?” he asked, falling into step behind her with his hands tapping his thighs. 

“Hm?” she said, absently. 

“I.” He swallowed, determined to get it out. “Thanks. For You know. Things.” 

Nancy didn’t say anything for a moment, and he thought she wasn’t going to. That would be fine. But—

“What else are sisters for,” she said quietly, leading the way. 

And Mike. Mike had never been more glad to have a sibling like that, ever. He reached out and touched her arm, briefly, just a thank-you. 

She tapped his fingers as he released her, softly. Nancy knew. They could count on each other, no matter what. 

Once a Wheeler, always a Wheeler. Holly was no exception. Soon enough, they would prove it, and be able to truly say it. 

Mike, Nancy, and Holly had each other. They would get her back. 

#st #mike wheeler #nancy wheeler #mike is not homophobic for real in that bit he’s just still working through some thought patterns #this is just an excuse for me to play with my favorite siblings like they’re dolls lmao #my fics

[therainscene]

Something that struck me about Will’s bedroom in S4 is how asexually it’s decorated:

This boy is about to turn 15 and yet there’s not a single hunk to be found anywhere on his walls! Being closeted isn’t an excuse -- there’s plenty of plausible deniability in having posters of your favourite musicians, athletes, characters, etc, as our extremely heterosexual friend Michael can demonstrate:

Perhaps Will just is asexual. After all, outside of his chaste love for Mike, we only ever see him express his sexuality in the form of revulsion towards girls/heterosexuality; he honestly seems kind of neutral on men in general.

However... I don’t think that’s what’s going on here.

Will happens to conform to certain 80s stereotypes about gay men -- he’s sensitive, well-groomed, prefers art over sport -- and these traits have made him a target for homophobic abuse, probably since before he even realized he was gay.

Imagine how it must have felt, then, when he finally did realize he was gay. The bullies were right about that, all along. So what else were they right about?

What other stereotypes plagued gay men in the 80s? They were seen as threats that wanted to recruit children into their “lifestyle”...

...as disgusting perverts...

...and as carriers of disease.

Even as a 12 year-old with an innocent crush on his best friend, this poor kid already feels ashamed of a sexuality he hasn’t even matured into yet. So when he does start maturing into it, he represses it.

It’s no wonder that he identifies with Alan Turing, a man who was chemically castrated for being gay.

Who else do we know who might identify with what happened to Alan Turing?

Henry is queer-coded by way of parallels to Will: he’s sensitive, well-groomed, and likes art. Like Will, he had a parent who tried to make him more “normal”. Like Will, he’s suffered abuse for being different.

But Henry is also queer-coded in a way that parallels those homophobic fears about “the gay agenda”: he preys on children, recruiting some and killing the rest. He’s angry at the world for not having space in it for people like him, but it doesn’t occur to him that he could peacefully co-exist with the rest of society -- he wants to burn it all down and remake the world in his own image.

The thing is, homophobes are telling on themselves when they express such fears about gay men -- because what they fear queer people will do to them is what heteronormative society is already doing to queer people. Like Henry, they think this is a zero-sum game in which only one side can “win”.

So I don’t think Henry’s queer-coding is meant to be read literally as him being a predatory gay man.

Rather, he’s a personification of homophobia: the homophobe’s gay boogeyman made flesh.

(When it comes to other characters, he personifies a more broadly-applicable version of this concept. But the Duffers have stated that S5 will focus heavily on Will and his coming of age, so I think this queer reading of Vecna is a deliberate and central one.)

If Vecna represents external homophobia, then the Mind Flayer represents internalized homophobia.

Vecna sends it after Will and it literally gets inside him, burying his true nature under a layer of torment. It’s partially defeated when his family and friends see what’s happening and shower him with unconditional love, but it lingers at the back of his head as he starts to go through puberty, flaring up when he’s near or otherwise thinking about Mike.

The only time he doesn’t have to deal with these flare-ups is when he’s in California, far away from both Vecna and the homophobic town he grew up in. And he gains a lot of confidence in his identity while he’s there!

But, as the asexually-decorated bedroom suggests, he still feels a lot of shame too.

Will can’t fully self-actualize as a gay man until he breaks his connection with Vecna once and for all...

...with the boy who makes him feel like he’s not a mistake by his side.

#stranger things #byler #will byers #henry creel #mind flayer #mike wheeler #my analysis

[cvntyworld]

Can you please do Josh Washington x fem! black reader it doesn’t matter what I just need some more Josh fanfics 😭 (thank you!!)

baby, it's cold outside ( josh washington )

summary: you thought your boyfriend, josh, wanted the gang back together because of the anniversary of both his sisters going missing approaching, what you did not know was that he had ulterior motives and you wouldn't be spared to his night of terror.

contents: reader is already in an established relationship with josh, set during until dawn, reader is referred to as female and described as black, josh hides his illness and pretends he's fine, violence, language, betrayal & angst, unhappy ending im sorry, reader has survivors guilt and feels they failed josh, ect ect...

You should've seen the signs, maybe then you could have done something to get him help, to give him an ending he deserved rather than the one forced upon him.

He always seemed so happy, energetic, a huge grin that is always enough to light up a room. You never thought that he was so unhappy and lost beneath it all, you didn't even see it, he seemed fine, he seemed like Josh, your Josh, he didn't seem any different but he was, you learned that the hard way when he'd taken that mask off and laughed and mocked and snapped, stood in front of you, your friends, stood in front of you all and laughed, claiming it to be all a bit of fun, a joke that you all took way too seriously. He had broken your heart when he barely batted an eyelash to your tears, didn't even notice how Sam held your arm in comfort and how you hid behind Mike's figure when it appeared he was too close for your liking.

He was ill, sick, off his meds, and you had missed all the signs. He could've killed Ashley and Chris with those big saws hanging above their heads, he had punched Ashley in the face after she stabbed him in self defence, and it's like you never knew him at all, the Josh you knew would apologise if he accidentally hit too hard during the large snowball fights that occurred, this wasn't him, it was like a different person entirely.

You can still hear his screams as he was dragged away by that thing, that monster, his very own sister who became that horrifying creature that terrorised you all. You could still hear his screams, still remember the hot tears in your eyes that burned as Mike guided you out of the mines in silence, guilt burning within himself at your cries. To end your night of terror, the lodge burned down to nothing, a strong smell of smoke and gas, the hum of the helicopter that approached first, the shrieks of the monsters dying, the cold from the snow, how you gripped Emily's hand in the police station, the Davis girl being the one to ground you to reality as you both waited to be interviewed, you'd almost cried when she had to let go and head into a room for questioning, forcing you to be left waiting alone until it was your turn to be questioned.

When it came to be your turn, you were quiet, slow blinks and tired eyes staring blankly as the muffled questions of curiosity feel like cotton in your ears. They wanted to hear the truth, wanted to know what happened and why, who was to blame, why there was ramblings of a monster, the others talked and talked, and you, you were quiet, still, as if you were waiting for that creature to sense you in here, ready to barge into the room and rip you to shreds, you'd heard Sam's voice as you were brought into the room she had just exited, concerned, but you couldn't answer her a single word. You couldn't even answer the cops who were sat in front of you, grilling you for answers. They kept the question vague, careful, as if not to set you off, but it was too much hurt, the memories made your eyes hurt when you blinked away the tears.

"What happened on that mountain, Miss L/N?" They ask, firm but soft spoken, "What happened?"

You can see his grin through the camera, hear his laugh at his own words, the serious edge on the topic of Hannah & Beth, how his smile faltered when he mentioned them, he wanted it to work out you could tell. Then, to end his little reunion video he referred to himself and his old friends as pornstars and it made you laugh which made Josh's head turn, a grin that you didn't realise had never met his eyes the way it used to. "Someone's in a good mood," he states and you nod, leaning into him, your curled hair tickling at his neck. "I'm always in a good mood, you're the grumpy one in this relationship, not me." You reply with a smile, a happy glint in your eye as you glance up at him, "Well, of course I'm the grumpy one, you have me running around after you like I'm some sort of maid." He fires back with a playful tone, "Josh, can you make me a hot chocolate, it has to have marshmallows too. Josh, can you buy me a new hat, I don't want the one I have frizzing my hair." He mocks in a pitchy tone and you gasp at him, hitting him playfully in the arm, "I do not sound like that!" He pulls a face of mock offense, holding his arm as if it hurt and he follows it with a laugh, "Alright, I'm sorry."

The cable car rumbles and you shuffle closer to him as a way of feeling safer, "I hate this thing, it's a death trap!" A hum of agreement rumbles within Josh as he wrapped a comforting arm around you, "We're almost there, then we can head up to the lodge, light a nice warm fire, and have a great time." You nod against him, rubbing your eyes as his warmth made you feel slightly tired, "That sounds so nice." You admit, "I still think your dad should get people to come out and fix this thing, it's bad enough we had to climb over a wall because he didn't fix the gate." Josh is quick to shush you, rubbing your arm gently, "You sound more stressed about this reunion than I am." You laughed at his words, "Can you blame me, it's been a whole year since..." You trail off, frowning when you felt you had gone too far with your words, it was a sensitive subject to him and you were bringing it up today of all days. "It's alright, you can say it, you know, it's why we're coming back, for them, for my sisters."

You sigh quietly with relief, resting your head in the crook of his shoulder, "Do you think they'd be happy, that we're all here again? That we're doing this for them?" He gave a nod in reply, "I think they'd really appreciate it, what we're going to be doing up here, what I'll do for them." Now, in that moment you'd thought of his words as sweet, and it completely went over your head the hidden intentions he had behind them.

You'd learn what he meant the hard way.

His manic laugh made you flinch, eyes watering when he took off that mask and revealed himself. He laughed and laughed, laughed right in your face. "Every one of you got my name, I mean how does it feel?" He asked aloud, Mike and Sam didn't answer, too busy untying Chris and Ash, who didn't speak either to his question, Ashley shook her head with a vicious glare of hatred towards him and Chris merely stared ahead, an empty look in his eyes as if he'd been unable to process that his best friend was who had been tormenting them all night.

You stayed quiet, staring at him blankly, teary eyed and a wave of emotions battling for the wheel to your heart, he laughed and you felt betrayal settle in. He had been who had chased you through the lodge that night with a mask and canister, ready to knock you unconscious. He'd been the one who had locked his gloved hands tightly around your curly scalp, laughing when you cried in pain and had begged him to stop it, he had been the one to backhand you painfully when you bit his wrist before he could place that canister mask over your face, he was the one who'd caused your head to split open when you fell down from the force of the slap, colliding with the bannister, he was the one who kicked you and let you tumble down those stairs, standing at the top of them as you lay still, pained and crying as you drifted in unconsciousness.

He laughed and the tears finally fell again, something that Sam had noticed, her gentle hand guided you over to her embrace, wrapping a comforting arm around you whilst a shocked Ashley took your hand from her seat when she'd put two and two together that it was Josh that caused it, your injured state a nasty sight. "How does it feel, do you enjoy feeling terrorised? Humiliated? I mean, panicked?" He fires out with a hint of mockery, "All those emotions that my sisters got to feel once one year ago, only, guess what, they didn't get to laugh it off! Nope, no, no, they're gone!" He spat out venomously.

"I don't know if you noticed this, Josh, but none of us are laughing!" Mike fired back harshly, a hardened glare set in his eyes at Josh's lack of regret, instead, the Munroe boys anger only drove Josh to mock them all even further. "Oh come on, why the long faces? It's good to get the heart racing every now and then, and race they did, every one of you just pitter patter, pitter patter." He rushed out with a scoffed laugh following after. You began to muffle out his words, unable to listen to his plan and how much he had actually put into it, all the times he'd travelled up to the mountain alone, he'd lied to you about what it was he was actually doing up here, why he actually wanted you and everyone else back here to begin with. It made your mind wander to your relationship, was any of his feelings for you ever genuine or just another lie he told? You had to know and so you uttered out your words quietly with a sob but loud enough for him to hear.

"How could you?" Josh stopped his ramblings, his green eyes meeting your saddened gaze, "Come on, Y/N, don't be getting upset over a little bruise on your head, you've left way worse markings on me." He laughed at his crude and disgusting words but nobody else found it funny, it surprised you when Mike stepped in front of you with a glare, "A little bruise? Look at her, look what you did, it's sick! You're done!" Sam then stepped forward, taking a more gentle approach, "You're crying out for help, Josh, come on, you wanted to get caught didn't you?" Josh is merely dismissive of her worries. "Oh sure, I'm totally just crying out for help, oh help me, help, help!" He mocked and you wiped away your tears furiously at what he said next to you all.

Nobody got hurt.

You begged to differ, everyone did, three of your friends were missing, Ashley was covered in blood and had this nasty bruise forming on her eye, Chris had a bruise from where Josh had knocked him unconscious and a trickle of blood from the blank bullet he'd shot himself with in hopes he'd save Ashley if he shot himself. Sam's knees were black and blue, Mike was missing two fingers, you were still bleeding and dizzy, and yet, Josh said that he hadn't hurt anyone, nobody got hurt.

He had hit a nerve in everyone and the final straw was an angered Mike who hit him across the face with his gun, a confession of Jessica being dead and Josh being the one that was to blame for it all.

And yet to him, nobody got hurt.

The shed was cold and so was the tension between your friends, Chris's conflict being obvious when it came to it being down to Josh killing Jess, Mike's anger and terrible grief, Josh's separation from the present, his mumblings and rants, how he claims he didn't hurt Jess, how he was sorry, how fast he changed his mind and then changed it back again. You felt sick to your stomach at how bad he had gotten at this point, the boys seemed concerned also for the Washington boy in front of them, but they would not let him get away with what he did, to them and to all of you, he was tied up and fidgeting, mumbling words to himself that you didn't understand.

"Y/N!" Josh uttered out softly and you turned to face him with a frown crossing your features, "Don't talk to her!" A cautious yet angered Mike snapped at him but that didn't stop him, the boy you thought you once knew stared you down as if you were a stranger and then spoke again. "I'm sorry, Y/N!" He called out and you sigh tiredly and Chris is quick to approach you, "You don't have to be here, if this is too much you can always head back to the lodge." You knew Chris was trying to be kind, but you couldn't leave, you just couldn't, you needed answers. "I'll head back in a little while, I just, I need to know why he did this, how he could be so cruel..." Chris frowns in understanding, out of all your friends, Chris had known Josh the longest so you knew that it must've stung him too, "He's sick, you gotta remember that, whatever he says to you here isn't true, it is whatever is going on inside his head that's talking." You nod at Chris's words and turn back to Josh who stared at you two blankly, mumbling to himself tiredly.

"I said I was sorry, Y/N, but I never said what I was sorry for..." Josh says quietly and you cross your arms, feeling suddenly cold when he spoke. "I'm all ears, Josh, what is it you're sorry for?" You ask, hoping that what he would say next to be what you thought, but instead a string of cruel words fall past his lips harshly. "I'm sorry that you thought I was actually interested in you of all people!" A lump forms in your throat when he laughs, ignoring how Mike snapped at him to shut up and how Chris came to your defense. "I'm sorry that you thought that we were actually something serious, sorry that you actually had yourself thinking that I liked you." Tears wobble in your eyes at his harsh tone and you turn away, looking out at the nearby lodge and ready to leave, but not before you turned and pointed a finger at him with a glare and your teeth bared angrily.

"You're dead to me, Josh!"

You didn't know that would be one of the last things you ever said to him that night.

Your eyes burned, slow and tired blinks leaving you when you glanced up at the officers who had listened to every word of your story, the steam from the hot tea that they brought you warmed your hands but you didn't drink it, a feeling of bile still lodged in your throat. "That's it, I don't have anything else to say..." You utter out tiredly and the officer to your right clicked their pen shut, turning back to you with a look of sympathy in their eyes. "You didn't find him, did you?"

The officer shakes their head grimly, "We regret to inform you that we haven't recovered a body, but there's still that chance we could within the next twenty four hours, there are currently officers down in those mines looking for him to the best of their ability."

You close your eyes to stop any more tears falling, you'd done enough crying tonight, you didn't want to cry, not anymore, a part of you didn't want to care about him at all but you did, you cared too much and it hurt too much when you thought about all those signs you missed and so with a shaky breath you utter out a quiet line of words that the officer asks you to repeat and you do, staring at the two of them sadly. "It's my fault." They stare at you in confusion, "What's your fault, Miss L/N?" You swallow at the lump in your throat and shake your head. "There was so many signs, so many, and I didn't see any of them."

"I should've seen them, I should've known, maybe if I had paid more attention he would still be here." You say and a frowning officer shuts your guilt down. "This wasn't your fault, Miss L/N?"

"I should've seen the signs." You repeat quiet, "I should've seen them..." The officers knew you were no longer able to speak to them and exited the room to further discuss the statements from you and your friends but you didn't care about a few of your words jotted down on paper to go in some file, what you cared about was Josh, and yet you'd never see him again.

You failed him, he needed help and you weren't listening.

If only you could tell him you were listening now, even if it was too late, you were listening for him now.

#until dawn x reader #until dawn game #until dawn #until dawn fanfic #josh washington x reader #josh washington #josh washington x female reader #im a sucker for angst #but i promise I'll write smth happy for him

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

Burn - a Magnus Archives fic

An AU Somewhere Else - part of the Magnus Monsterverse series.

Spoilers for the whole podcast.

There's a lot to take in.

Jon is doing his best...

And so is Timothy Stoker.

AO3

------

I had only been free for a month and change.

It didn’t feel like a month and change. A thousand years felt like nothing, like one bad night’s sleep, filled with unpleasant dreams and little rest. A month and change, on the other hand—of physical therapy (because maybe I needed it?); of long, confusing tests: of questions I could not answer; of a hospital bed and beeping sounds; of learning to walk again like a normal person instead of some lurching beast; of communicating and speaking as an I and not a We or It…

That felt like a thousand years.

I dozed a little on Martin’s shoulder on the way back. Was it actual sleep? I wasn’t sure; I hadn’t been able to sleep during the apocalypse, and I certainly had not for centuries as floating eyeballs.

But this was… this was good.

Peace.

Martin rested his head on mine. I think we both rested.

Jared opened the car door. “Like a couple of cats, right?  I’d leave you in there, but I got places to be.”

His weird Corruption hookup. Well, whatever floated his boat. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. 'S nice to see.” He shrugged. “Lonely and Eye. Wouldn’a predicted it.”

He was hoping he could find this same togetherness, though Flesh and Corruption were often at odds. He found this person quite attractive, and they made him laugh, and never made him feel stupid or crass, and—

What are you doing? I asked the Eye, who was showing me this, who wasn’t trying to give me all of Jared’s mind and life story, but certainly more than I could know on my own.

Romance! It wordlessly informed me.

(Its delight was known to me. Known like the sound of my voice from inside my own head.)

This wasn’t new. I’d thought it was because interacting with this as myself was new, but It had been… like this… for at least a few years.

Funny. I hadn’t been afraid of the Eye in a very long time; whatever we’d reached in my doomed world, though wicked, had been… good, at least for me. Should I be afraid now? Was there a point? It almost seemed absurd to be afraid of the One who kept me so carefully for so long in the only way It knew how.

“Thanks,” said Martin, and tucked me under his arm as we headed back between the rectangles.

Just my luck—Jane wasn’t outside anymore. “Does Leitner own all of this?” 

“I genuinely don’t know?” said Martin. “I don’t even know how he made money again when they came through here. For all I know, he pod-peopled his alternate self in this place.”

“Pod-people?”

“Jon—”

I chortled. “I understood. I’m teasing you.”

“Oh, I see,” he said, sounding far too pleased by my machinations. “So I’ll have to go more modern, then. Face Off, maybe?”

The Eye plastered strange images in my head of Nicolas Cage and John Travolta being increasingly bizarre, and I stuttered. “What in blazes did you just reference?”

“We’re watching it tonight,” he said with fiendish delight. “Popcorn and everything.”

I laughed, face against his arm. “Must we?”

Martin kissed me. “Human activities. It’s a good choice.”

And heaven help me, I tried to flirt. “I’ll give you human activities.” I sounded like a moron, and my face went hot.

He started giggling.

I muttered, “I don’t think that’s how flirting works.”

“Only the best kind,” he said, still snickering, and brought me inside.

#

He’d done beautiful things with the rectangle that was his flat.

Painted the walls like sea, with frothing waves near the ceiling, and such fine detail in color progression and distant bubbles that, for a moment, my breath was taken away. I felt enveloped, out to sea, gloriously free. Incredible.

“Oh!” I breathed.

“Mike helped me,” he said, popping off his shoes, walking over thick and lovely throw rugs that somehow seemed like sea floor. “It’s a little more Vast than I wanted, but it still feels like home.”

I’d found his gills. I’d kissed them. They were delicate, sensitive. “Do you wish you still lived in the sea?”

“Well, yes and no. Yeah, because of course I do, no, because I’d never come out again. I’d be lost.”

Even his bulb choices were perfect—no harsh lighting, but gentle, like sun diffused through water. And… “It’s so quiet.”

“Oh—yes, the Lukases helped with that.”

“The Lukases!”

He sighed. “They paid for soundproofing in the walls. Sort of said I’m an honorary member, or whatever.”

“Wait just a damn minute. I was told they didn’t have the big groups here—the Magnus institute, Solus Shipping, Pinnacle Aerospace, all of it.”

“Sure, but there’s still the Lukas family, who’s a lot friendlier than they were, and also a lot more religious?”

“ More religious? Please don’t tell me they fund Leitner.”

“Oh, no, he’s got no backers—he’s rich on his own, though I don’t know how.” 

“But the Lukases?”

“They sought me out. Offered me their home.”

I stared at him. 

He had his back to me, fussing with a bookshelf. 

“Are… they didn’t hurt you?”

“No. Anyone Lonely is family to them.”

“That’s literally the opposite of how that works.”

“You know that, and I know that. They’re not the same.”

I tried to picture this and could not. “I don’t know what to make of this,” I admitted.

“We’re all here,” he said, suddenly turning to me. “Trapped here, saved and brought here… trying to make it work after we made the worst decision any of us ever could have.” And he looked so vulnerable, eyes shiny. “Given what we all did, none of us deserved that second chance. You know that, don’t you?”

“Deeply,” I whispered.

“So we all find a way to make it work here. And we all have one another’s back here. Jane makes sure that we aren’t spied on—her little creatures check all the walls all the time, all the wires, the plumbing, everything. Callum Brodie uses his shadow creatures to make sure that none of us are followed. And—”

“Brodie?”

“A seriously depressed teenager now, but we’re helping him.”

“He was alone,” I whispered. “A child.”

“Being fed on by the Dark. Yes.”

I shook my head. “But Leitner knew when we left the complex.”

“Yes, we let him have that—a general camera in the courtyard, observing when we leave the buildings. It’s a compromise.”

I stared. “This is why no one knows how to respond to me yet,” I said. “They don’t know if I’m… part of this… this…”

“Found family. That’s the term. And by gods, none of us deserve to have found it, but we’re here. We’re here.” Tears spilled down his cheeks, dampening his collar.

I came to him, then. Came to him in his ocean apartment and held him tight, compressing, keeping, protecting (yes We would do anything to save him), and he sobbed on my shoulder, and I didn’t know what to do other than what I already was.

It was enough. He held me back, clutched, clung, and it was enough.

#

His tears faded, and we breathed. 

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“For what?” I whispered back, and kissed his neck, under his collar where some of the gills hid.

“I’m supposed to be helping you adjust, but here I am, doing this.” He didn’t sound that upset. Of course not. We were together.

“Oh, yes,” I murmured, lips on his skin. “We can’t possibly be there for each other. That would be madness.”

He went so still. “I said that to you.”

“You said that to me.” I confirmed with a kiss.

“In the cabin. After it… after everything.”

“Not quite after everything.” This was important. “After Lukas. After we got away, made it north. After you… struggled to stay with me.”

“It was so hard,” he whispered. “So hard to stay out of the Lonely.”

“Yes. And you did it—you… you did it.” Another kiss. “And then one night, after we found Daisy’s 21-year Dewar’s whiskey and got into it, I ended up crying on your lap all night about my grandmother’s plants.”

His laugh is wet, but real. “Gods, I’d forgotten that.”

“I didn’t. Definitely not one of my better moments.”

“Well, it was only fair,” he said, stroking my hair. “You weren’t there when she passed, and that wasn’t your fault at all, but her plants died before anyone even knew to check on her. I know, Jon. You felt awful about it.”

“I still do. How pathetic; it’s been a long time.”

“It’s not pathetic. It’s one of the things I love about you; you don’t stop caring, no matter what burns you, or bites you. It matters, Jon.”

“Even… in your ending?”

He went stiff.

I waited. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked. Maybe I just ruined everything. Maybe I—

“Yes,” he whispered. “Even then. Because you became a god, Jon, and you were going to end the world your way—but the moment I… the moment you realized that meant I would die, you changed course. You steered the whole thing away from total destruction. Even then, you cared.”

It was my turn to be still. “I wasn’t a god.”

“You were. Sasha thinks you might be now, too.”

I laughed. “Right. A god.” I pulled back, expecting his matching grin.

He was not grinning. 

“I’m not a god. I’m going to need an income, for crying out loud.”

Martin didn’t blink. “You became something else—something that wasn’t an avatar. Something none of us were. You changed the first time like all of us did, but then you changed a second time. That’s the difference.”

“Martin, I didn’t—”

“It wasn’t another version, so don’t try that. It was you. Just you. But you’re right, anyway.” The tension was gone. “We are here for each other.”

So we were putting talk of deification in the ‘later’ pile. All right. “Someone very wise said that to me,” I complimented unnecessarily, since we’d literally just discussed the moment. I sighed. “I am very bad at flirting.”

“I like the way you do it,” he said, and kissed me.

And then there came a knock at the door.

#

We both jumped. 

“Hang on,” he said, and headed for the door.

“Wait!” I said.

“If it was someone bad, we’d have been alerted,” said Martin, and opened the door.

Tim.

Tim stood—

Tim, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and a scowl, with old burns on one arm and a gaze that slid right past Martin and onto me.

Oh, gods. Oh, gods.

“So it’s true,” he said. “They did find one of you.”

And it was not his playful voice, and it was not his on-the-edge-of-flirting voice, and it was not his before-the-worms sharp and loving joy, and as he pushed right past Martin and came my way, I knew he was going to hit me.

I was going to let him.

(I don’t forgive you—)

It had been my fault, all of it. Not being a good enough friend. Not being a good enough Archivist to save him. 

(You really think he wanted you to give more of yourself to the Eye?)

(Yes because he SAID—)

And even though this Tim had obviously not died in the Unknowing, I’d hurt him, and (I don’t forgive you) I would let him do whatever he wanted.

Whatever he had to do.

“Wait—” said Martin.

Tim embraced me.

My mind, too shocked, catalogued the differences between his body and Martin’s, the unrelenting firmness of him, the unfamiliar triangle shape, the—

“You asshole,” he choked, tears in his eyes.

And then he hit me, anyway.

#

Me-shaped bags of eyes could still get knocked on their arse even if their boyfriend thinks there’s been deification, and I went down like a sack of wheat.

“Tim!” Martin shouted, tackling him, late because he honestly never understood how much Tim hated me, and had thought to the end that we could work it out.

Tim pulled away from him, slid to his knees, and yanked me off the floor. Cartoon imagery flashed through my head of rubbery victims being punched to the ground and springing back up like Weebles, but he didn’t hit me again.

He gripped my shoulders and stared into my face.

“Fuck’s sake, Tim!” Martin said.

“It really is you,” Tim said. “You.”

“I’m sorry,” I said.

He stared at me. Red streaks richened his brown hair. His eyes, too, were lighter—sort of a flame gold, rather than his familiar chocolate-brown. “What?” he said. 

“For everything?” I added pathetically.

“Moron, I hit you.”

“Great, Tim, just great,” said Martin, marching past us both to his second room. “I just get into explaining the kind of community we’ve built here with blood and sweat and tears, and you blow in and do this!”

I’d forgotten just how good a puppy face Tim had. “So my timing was spectacular, as usual?”

“Magnificent.” Martin muttered.

“Sorry!” Tim called after him, sounding anything but.

I stared at him.

He looked back. 

“You’re alive.” I couldn’t help the tears, the hitch in my voice. “You’re alive!”

“Uh,” said Tim. “You’re gonna mess up that shirt.”

“Oh, go to hell,” I said, and wiped my face on my sleeve.

“Yeah, no,” said Tim. “Already did that. Took the world with me. Not a good time. Zero stars, would not recommend.”

“Oh, gods, I missed you,” I said thickly. “You can hit me again if you want. I get it.”

“I’m good,” he said, settling back on his haunches. He wasn’t smiling at me, but it wasn’t a look of hate, either. (My heart swelled.) “I just had to do that once to see how you’d react—and because of what you did.”

“Only once? What did I do in your world?” I said. “Besides completely failing you.”

Tim sighed. “Table that for a second, boss.”

That took me a moment. “I am far from your—”

“When we were about to take out the Circus, you fucking shoved me out of the way,” he said.

I blinked rapidly at him. “I what?”

“You kept your head in the Unknowing,” he said. “You kept all of us clear. Even Basira, though she decided she’d done it herself after you were gone, but whatever. You… you took the detonator from me.”

Wait. “I kept my head?”

“Yeah.”

“The way Jonah…”

“Who?”

“The way… Elias wanted me to?”

“Yeah. You did. And you made some fucking deal with Helen, and you shoved me into her door, and you took my revenge from me.” His jaw tightened, muscles working along the sharp angle. 

I swallowed. This was a lot to take in.

In his world, I’d been more in the Eye.

In his world, I’d been the better Archivist.

In his world, I’d given everything to try to save him.

And… I’d still failed. “What happened?”

“You died. You knew just where to set the plastic explosives. There wasn’t anything left of you after the theater blew.”

Had I done that on purpose? 

I suddenly knew that I had. I’d known what Elias was trying to do, and, seeing no other way, I’d removed myself from the equation. 

Gods, that worked out well. Ugh.

All the blood drained from my face. I had to know. “What did Elias do then?”

“Do?”

He didn’t even know? “For Archivist.”

“Oh. Basira.” Tim shrugged. “Not that it mattered.”

“Why… why didn’t it matter?”

“Because I burned the whole fucking world a year and a half later, so yeah. It didn’t matter.”

His look was challenging now. Hard. Yet…

I knew he feared my response. Why?

“I’m not sorry I hit you,” he said. 

“It was due,” I said. “I lost you in my time. I would’ve given anything for you to have that chance.” And it just tumbled out: “We were friends. And then Sasha… and everything happened, and I never hated you, but I’m terrible at interpersonal communication, and I could’ve tried harder to talk to you, but all we did leading up to the Unknowing was fight, and I thought… I thought I’d have more time.”

“Sounds about right,” he says, low. 

“I wasn’t enough to keep anyone’s head clear. Not even my own.”

His eyes went huge. “You werent?”

(The Eye offered to show me.)

(Oh, gods, I needed to know, this was Tim, I needed to know.)

Please don’t take all of me, I asked It, and—

Saw.

Saw Tim, falling into rage too bright to be depression and too dark to be anything else. Living in the Archives for months like some kind of troll, physically attacking anyone who came near. Obsessing over what I’d done, what I’d taken from him—his revenge, his closure with Danny, his death.

His glorious death, which he’d wanted, like some fictional barbarian.

Saw his irritation at Basira, whose arrogance knew no bounds (and that tracked—she’d thought she had just ‘reasoned’ her way out of the Unknowing after spending months in the Archives, feeding the Eye). Saw his rage at Elias, whom he knew had something to do with all of this, and his irritation because Elias knew better than to come anywhere near him.

(Because Elias put Elias first. Elias never got his hands dirty. Elias stayed out of danger. Elias—)

I saw Tim encountering a tale of Desolation one day, as he did filing literally out of boredom, and his entire self surging in response to the sensation of burning-eating-sizzling up his hands and his arms and his throat and—

He burned the Archives down, did not even know if anyone survived because he walked away and did not look back.

Walked away into Chelsea, into places he could never afford, filled with people who looked down on everyone like him, and he burned that, too.

Jude found him three days later, sitting on the banks of the Thames near Tilbury, bubbling the mud like lava, and took him under her flaming wing.

All of it, in an instant, and then a beautiful thing: It nudged me gently back into myself.

I’d lost no time. I’d lost no thoughts. He was still looking at me, waiting for my response.

Thank you, I thought at It.

I swallowed again, tasting bile. Tears stung my eyes. “I wasn’t as good an Archivist, I suppose.” I swallowed around the lump in my throat.

He looked a little haunted. “Wow. So. Not all sold out, then.”

“Not then, I wasn’t. I tried to stay human, and that’s why I couldn’t save anyone. You did it, in the end. You used the detonator. And… you died.”

“So I got them,” he said, suddenly vicious and hungry. “You’re saying I got them.”

“You did.” (I don’t forgive you—)

“Then I don’t care about anything else.” 

My face must have said more than I intended. 

He sighed. “Please don’t tell me you walked around feeling bad because I got exactly what I wanted?”

“I… of course I… You said…” No, I couldn’t go there. How unfair would  that be? He’d have to say he forgave me just out of social expectation. I changed tack. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “You must have been so angry to do go the way you did.”

“Yeah. I was. But it’s been a long time, boss. I was… it was just me, feeding the Desolation, for years at the end. Had a lot of time to think. Had to think. Part of how it fed on me was making me think about everything I did wrong.”

“That’s so cruel,” I whispered. 

He shrugged. “They are cruel. All of them. And…” He sighed. “After we lost Sasha, I lost myself.”

“I think we all did, a little. And again, Tim, I’m not your boss.”

“Yeah, wel, you didn’t completely fail, either, so you’re just going to have to be flexible today.”

“I did fail! You have no idea what I did.”

“Pretty sure moping was involved,” he drawled.

“Now, that is not fair. Also true, but that is beside the point.”

He actually grinned.

It wasn’t his grin of old, free and wild and asymmetrical. But it was there. Tim Stoker grinned at me.

Tears stung my eyes again.

“Right. If you’re done being stroppy?” said Martin, carrying a tray.

“I’m still angry,” said Tim.

“Isn’t that your secret? You’re always angry,” said Martin.

Tim pointed at him with both index fingers. “I understood that reference! But yeah, he’s… he’s not my Jon. I’m okay.”

Ouch. 

He caught the look on my face. “You’re the Jon I was friends with. Not the sanctimonious prick at the end who knew better than everyone and wouldn’t listen to anybody.”

“I did that?” I blinked at him. 

He stood and offered a hand. “He did. But not you. I swear, if you’d been that guy, macking all over Martin and negging him while you were at it, I really would have killed you.”

I stared at him. At his hand. At him. 

He was not joking.

I swallowed. “How do you know I’m not?” 

“His body language and yours. Look. You get into Desolation… you get into the thing where your whole hunger is destroying anything that makes a person human, and creating bodies out of wax, you get real damn good at reading people. Knowing just the perfect moment to strike, or when you’ve already lit the match that’s gonna leave them in ruins.”

My eyes felt huge. “G… good for you?”

He snorted. “Yeah, you’re fine. Get up, boss. Martin made something, and we’re gonna eat it.”

I don’t know why I took his hand. I half-expected him to burn me like Jude, but he didn’t. “You walked in here ready to murder me?”

“Yeah. You’d do the same for him.”

He was right. If the situation were as described, I absolutely would.

Martin had made a lovely little tray of scones and sandwiches and tea. He’d added a few flowers, though I had no idea where they’d come from.

Was his second room converted to a kitchen? I’d have to look later.

He smiled at me. “Human things include eating.”

“I suppose,” I conceded.

Tim watched me. We weren’t good yet; but we were better. I’d accept better.

Better could be grown into good.

(I don’t forgive you… but thank you for this.)

Maybe we could even grow good into great.

Maybe this really was our second chance.

Maybe I needed to grab it with my eye-filled hands and hold on with all my weird little might.

“Cheers,” said Martin, toasting me with a scone.

“Gods, I love you,” slipped out, and I obediently dug in.

#tma #tma fic #tma spoilers #tma au #the magnus archives #magnus monsterverse #magnuspod #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tim stoker #jared hopworth #desolation!tim

[strangerobsession]

Had fun with an incorrect quotes generator with the ST crew and my OC. Enjoy the madness.

Try it yourself!

Eddie and April

April: Is something burning? Eddie, leaning seductively on the counter: Just my desire for you. April: Eddie, the toaster is literally on fire.

. . .

Eddie, sweating: April, there's something I need to ask you- April: Finally, you're proposing! Eddie: How'd you know? April: Eddie, you've dropped the ring five times during dinner. April: I even picked it up once.

. . .

April: When you said 'Magic in Bed', I wasn't expecting this.... Eddie: *pulls out card from deck* Now, was this your card? April: Holy moly-

. . .

April: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt. Eddie: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

. . .

Eddie: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy. April: I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep. Eddie: I said within reason, April. How about I murder that guy? April: So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't? Eddie: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

. . .

Eddie, April, Gareth and Jeff

Jeff: I'm cold Gareth: Here, take my hoodie. *meanwhile* Eddie: I'm cold. April: I can't control the weather, Eddie.

. . .

Gareth: Do you love April? Eddie: Yeah, I do. Gareth: Jeff! I told you I knew it! You owe me 100 bucks! Jeff: We all love April. You should've asked if he was IN love with her. Eddie: I thought that was implied. Jeff: ... Gareth: ... Eddie, looking straight at Jeff: Congrats Gareth, you just won 100 bucks.

. . .

Eddie: ARE YOU- Jeff: Fucking. Eddie: KIDDING ME?! YOU- Jeff: Fucking. Eddie: IDIOT! Gareth: ...What was that? Jeff: April banned Eddie from swearing, so I'm helping him out.

. . .

April: I love you. Eddie: I love you too. I've waited so long to hear you say that. *April and Eddie kiss passionately* Jeff, to Gareth: You owe me 20 dollars.

. . .

*Everyone is playing a board game together* Eddie: I will put 'A' down to make 'A'. Gareth: I will add onto your 'A' to make 'AT'. Jeff: I will add onto your 'AT' to make 'RAT'. April: I will add onto your 'RAT' to make 'BIOSTRATAGRAPHIC'. Jeff: *flips the board*

. . .

Eddie, April, Steve, Nancy and Robin

Steve: You're a lying piece of shit! Eddie: Oh yeah! You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD! Nancy: I'm leaving and I'm taking Robin with me! April, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

. . .

Nancy: Guys... the principal just called- Robin: It was April! April: It was Steve! Steve: It was Eddie! Eddie: It was me!

. . .

April: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast? Steve: Several traffic violations. Robin: Three counts of resisting arrest. Nancy: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks. Eddie: Also, that's not our car.

. . .

Eddie: April's first detention, I'm so proud. Steve: Woad, back up. Why did she get detention? Nancy: Because she's an idiot. Robin, terrified: She can do that??

. . .

Robin: Poison is a magic transmutation potion that turns people into corpses. April: This knife is actually a magic wand. Eddie: Meet me in the Denny's parking lot for a wizard duel. Nancy: *cocks gun* Magic missile. Steve: What the fuck is wrong with you people.

. . .

April, Eddie, Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Erica

Dustin: Just be yourself! Eddie: Really? Dustin, I have one day to win over April's parents. Eddie: How long did it take for you guys to like me? Mike: Couple of weeks. Lucas: Six months. Erica: Jury's still out. Eddie: See Dustin! 'Just be yourself' what kind of garbage advice is that?!

. . .

April: Eddie is too tall for me to kiss him on the lips. What should I do? Dustin: Punch him in the stomach. Then, when he doubles over in pain, kiss him. Lucas: Tackle him! Erica: Dump him. Mike: Kick him in the shin! Eddie: No to all of those! Just ask me to lean down!!

. . .

*after the Squad has been separated for a few years* Dustin: So, what have you been up to lately? Eddie: Leading a revolution with April. Dustin: Good for you! Me, I've joined the mob. Eddie: *nods* Oh, how cool! That's awesome! Dustin: I know! Anyway, have you heard from the others? Lucas? Eddie: Happily living as a hermit in the woods. Mike? Dustin: Wrongfully locked up in an asylum, which reminds me, we need to break them out later. Erica? Eddie: Cult leader. Dustin: Yeah, that sounds about right.

. . .

Erica: Dumbest scar stories, go! Dustin: I burned my tongue once drinking tea. April: I dropped a hair dryer on my leg once and it burned. Lucas: I have a piece of graphite in my leg for accidentally stabbing myself with a pencil in the first grade. Mike: I was taking a cup of noodles out of the microwave and spilled it in my hand and I got a really bad burn. Eddie: I have emotional scars.

. . .

April: Bye Eddie! Bye Erica! Bye Mike! Buy Dustin! Bye Eddie! Lucas: You said 'bye Eddie' twice. April: I like Eddie.

#stranger things #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #stranger things oc #eddie munson x oc #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #hellfire club #stranger things gareth #stranger things jeff #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #incorrect quotes #stranger things incorrect quotes